Twenty Times Tempted: A Sexy Contemporary Romance Collection

by Petrova, Em

  Now he got both hands involved. While his right continued to tantalise Balkhi’s balls, he used his left to encircle the base of his cock, getting into a rhythm where as much of Balkhi’s dick as possible was being stimulated at once. As he moved higher, his hand would follow; when he slid back down, his hand would, too. He bobbed up and down, varying his movements—squeezing and releasing with his hand and lips, flicking his tongue around the hard flesh, occasionally allowing his teeth to graze the skin; all the while letting plenty of saliva out to lubricate his ministrations.

  Balkhi had apparently already forgotten about his blue balls. He continued to tense and wriggle beneath Wilkes, occasionally pumping his hips. Mostly, though, he tried to keep quiet. Wilkes could tell by the muffled grunts he could hear that Balkhi was, at first, biting his bottom lip, or pressing his mouth tightly closed to prevent any sounds from leaking out. But after a while, he’d sensed movement up the bed, and Balkhi’s groans had grown even quieter—leading Wilkes to believe that he’d grabbed a pillow from the other side of the bed and was holding it over his face, or maybe biting it.

  The thought both pleased Wilkes and turned him on. The two of them were no strangers to having to be quiet while having sex, but this was different. Back in Camp Bastion, or their Forward Operating Base in the Afghan desert, not getting caught was an absolute must. If they had been discovered, the consequences would have been unimaginable.

  Now, the locked door ensured they couldn’t actually be caught. The worst that could happen would be that they’d be heard. If they were, though, the worst case scenario? Maybe a little teasing from his parents in the morning. The likeliest scenario? Nobody mentioning a damn thing. Stiff upper lip and all that.

  They probably wouldn’t hear anything, anyway. All Balkhi was doing was a little moaning and grunting. The house was an old, solid brick-built construction, so sound didn’t carry easily through the walls. Adding that to the fact both his parents were pretty heavy sleepers—and his dad was a serial snorer—he was sure that a couple of subdued orgasms weren’t going to be overheard.

  All that increased Wilkes’ enthusiasm further, drove him onward. Even as he stroked and sucked at Balkhi’s cock, his own tapped insistently against his stomach, wanting some stimulation for itself. But it would have to wait—right now, the thing that Wilkes wanted most in the world was to make his boyfriend come in his mouth. If Balkhi ended up being a little loud when he climaxed, nothing bad would happen, except maybe a little embarrassment on Balkhi’s part.

  Knowing how hard Balkhi would be trying to keep the volume down, Wilkes couldn’t resist a little cruelty—of the erotic kind. Releasing Balkhi’s ballsac, he reached up and coated his index and middle fingers with some of the saliva that had run down Balkhi’s cock. Then he reached beneath Balkhi’s balls and sought his arsehole.

  Quickly finding the wrinkled pucker, he stroked around and around it with the tips of his fingers, before easing them inside. The hole gradually relaxed, and greedily gobbled him up. Once satisfied Balkhi was comfortable, he began finger-fucking his backside and, at the same time, resumed working his cock. The tension of Balkhi’s body beneath him told Wilkes that if he carried on much longer he would end up with a mouthful of cum.

  Given that was precisely what he wanted, he continued, smiling inside his head as occasional moans and gasps reached his ears. Balkhi’s cock seemed to thicken even further in his mouth and hand, the velvety skin red hot over its core of steel, and salty fluid continuing to seep out periodically.

  The power he held, the sexiness of what he was doing, and the fact he was doing it to the man he loved sent Wilkes’ own arousal spiralling ever higher. God, he needed to be inside Balkhi, needed to come, but first...

  Wilkes sped up his movements; rapidly plundering Balkhi’s tight hole while sucking harder on his bell end and increasing the pressure with which he stroked his cock. He was determined to make Balkhi come soon, and hard. And if he couldn’t keep a lid on it and stay quiet as he did so, then Wilkes would be pretty pleased with himself—making his lover’s aching need for pleasure, for climax, overwhelm his worries about being overheard would be quite the achievement, mischievous as it was.

  Less than a minute later, Wilkes got his wish. His efforts paid off in spectacular style as Balkhi froze for a second or two, then arched his back, his body bowing. Dropping back down to the mattress, he gave several short, sharp jerks of his hips, then flooded Wilkes’ mouth with semen, while at the same time letting loose a long, low moan. It wasn’t nearly as loud as Wilkes had hoped, but the almost-violent reaction Balkhi’s body had had to his climax more than made up for it. Somewhere amongst the thrashing, Wilkes’ fingers had been expelled from Balkhi’s arse.

  Swallowing down each jet of warm fluid that entered his mouth, Wilkes then taunted Balkhi a little more by licking and slurping at his now-sensitive shaft until every scrap of the ejaculate was gone. Only when he’d dragged the edges of his teeth lightly up and off Balkhi’s cock did he emerge from the bedclothes and flop down beside his lover, grinning.

  Wilkes couldn’t see much in the dimness of the room, but he could see enough to know Balkhi turned his head to look at him, a lazy, satiated grin on his own face. “You, Hugh Wilkes, are a very, very bad man.”

  Shrugging, Wilkes shot back, “It’s your fault. You made me this way. I used to be a very good boy.”

  Letting out a snorting laugh, Balkhi replied, “I very much doubt that. Now...” He reached beneath the duvet, grasped Wilkes’ still-erect cock and began slowly pumping it. “What do you think we should do with this?”

  “If you’ve no objections, I’d quite like to bury it inside your delectable arse.”

  “No objections at all. Though I hope the bed does not squeak.”

  Chuckling, Wilkes said, “It’s not too bad, I don’t think. But if it is, I’ll just have to go really slowly.”

  Balkhi groaned. “You know how that drives me crazy.”

  “I do. Maybe I should do it anyway, even if the bed doesn’t squeak.”

  With a gasp, Balkhi replied, “See! You are a bad man.” He paused. “So yes, maybe it is my fault then. But I do not mind. Perhaps I like you that way.”

  Grinning wickedly, he reached out and grasped the back of Wilkes’ neck, drawing their faces close together. “Kiss me, Hugh,” Balkhi whispered. “Then fuck me. I want to feel you inside me, your thick cock stretching me and filling me with such pleasure.”

  Wilkes responded by moulding his mouth to Balkhi’s, immediately delving inside and twining their tongues together. They kissed for several smouldering minutes; hands tangling in hair, cupping cheeks, exploring chests, stomachs, cocks.

  Pulling away, breathless, Wilkes ground out, “Sorry, Rustam, but I can’t wait any longer. I have to have you now. Now I feel like it’s me who’s in danger of having blue balls.”

  Balkhi, who’d once more fisted Wilkes’ shaft, said, “We cannot have that now, can we? I hope you have a condom and lube nearby.”

  Biting back a moan as Balkhi’s firm grip on his dick increased, Wilkes said, “Rustam, when you’re around, I always have a condom and lube handy. You’re so damn sexy, I want you all the bloody time!”

  “You are saying that like it is a bad thing.”

  “Oh no, I’m not. Definitely not,” Wilkes growled, then moved in for another breath-stealing kiss, before moving off to get what he needed to make love to Balkhi.

  Chapter Sixteen

  By the time Wilkes got back to Bulford Camp, he was physically and mentally exhausted. Despite this, he was happy. Very happy. Coming out to his family had lifted a huge weight from his shoulders. On top of that, he’d had a fantastic weekend. Granted, he and Balkhi hadn’t had a great deal of alone time—except at bedtime, which, after Balkhi’s initial reticence, they’d made the most of—but he’d still had a great time socialising with his immediate and extended family, introducing them to Balkhi, and so on. His mother had also done him proud with his dad’s birthday
present—so he was in good books, there, too. Always a bonus.

  Seeing his family and Balkhi making the effort to get to know each other, and getting along, was hugely gratifying, and the fact that everyone had taken his announcement completely in their stride boosted his confidence when it came to telling his army buddies and colleagues. He wasn’t ready just yet—he needed a little recovery time from the weekend—but he wouldn’t be putting it off any longer, or making excuses. As soon as a good moment presented itself, he’d take the opportunity and get it over and done with.

  Things would be a little different with his colleagues, though, most especially those that had been out in Afghanistan with him on his last tour. He’d have to be creative with the truth if they asked how his and Balkhi’s relationship had come about. Even though it didn’t really matter anymore, he didn’t want them knowing what had been going on under their very noses out in the desert. He also didn’t want to risk getting into trouble with his superiors—the last thing he wanted was a disciplinary, and if word got to Major Hunter that anything “untoward” had happened in Afghanistan, he’d be the first to bring a ton of bricks dropping onto Wilkes’ head.

  Annoyingly, if all this was happening with a woman, Wilkes suspected Hunter and anyone else involved would turn a blind eye to the fact they’d gotten together in Afghanistan. But adding same-sex relations, and with his interpreter, no less, to the equation, the risk of ructions was much higher. Almost certain.

  So, unfortunately, lying was his only option. It’d be obvious that their attraction had sparked in the Middle East, but people couldn’t get into trouble for being attracted to each other. Hopefully. As long as he made it absolutely clear that nothing had happened between them until they’d gotten back onto British soil, everything would be all right.

  Locking his car and heading for his accommodation in the Officers’ Mess, he found himself looking forward to a nice shower and an early night, with maybe a few text message exchanges with Balkhi in between. He at least wanted to know Balkhi had arrived back home safely before going to sleep.

  On his way there, he decided to pop into the kitchen for a drink and a snack to take back to his room. He hoped he wouldn’t see anyone, so he could grab what he wanted and escape to the solitude of his room, but it wasn’t to be.

  A voice called out, “All right, Wilkes?”

  Hiding the cringe he so badly wanted to let out, Wilkes turned to the owner of the voice. Captain Tom Wolfe was a good mate, and one he’d seen a fair amount of since they’d both returned from Afghanistan—Wolfe had done the tour before Wilkes, but transport screw ups meant they’d only had the briefest of handovers. But right now, he wasn’t really in the mood for chatting. Still, he didn’t want to upset his friend and colleague, either, so he forced a grin onto his face and strode over.

  “All right, Wolfe? How’s it going?”

  “Not bad thanks, mate, not bad. What about you? Where’ve you been? Haven’t seen you around much lately—you finally got yourself a girlfriend?”

  Shit. You had to fucking ask, didn’t you?

  It took a monumental amount of effort to keep the smile on his face as he replied, “Just got back from Wolverhampton. It was my dad’s birthday this weekend, so there was a big family do. It was great seeing everyone—it’s been a while since we all got together.”

  Something in his tone or body language clearly didn’t sit right with Wolfe, because he narrowed his eyes. “That’s nice, mate, but you haven’t really answered the question now, have you? That’s this weekend covered... but what about the one before that?”

  Wilkes shrugged. “This and that. What’s this, anyway, one hundred questions?”

  Now Wolfe’s eyebrows rose. “Now I know you’re hiding something. Come on, out with it. Who is she?” He cooed mockingly. “Tell your uncle Wolfe.”

  It was then that Wilkes realised this was it. This was the “good moment” he’d been waiting for. With Wolfe, anyway. Glancing around to make sure no one was listening, he said quietly, “Actually, mate, you got a minute? Can we have a word in private?”

  Frowning, Wolfe nodded. “Of course, mate.”

  “Let me just grab a drink and something to eat and we’ll head to my room.”

  A few minutes later and the two men were installed in Wilkes’ accommodation. Wilkes took a gulp of the tea he’d made, to buy himself a moment to screw up his courage, and regretted it as the scalding liquid travelled down his throat. Coughing and spluttering, he put the drink down and struggled to compose himself.

  Wolfe looked concerned. “Wilkes, come on now. You’re stalling. You’ve got me worried here. What’s going on? Have you got someone up the duff?”

  The snort escaped before Wilkes could stop it. “Er, no. Nothing like that. It’s nothing to worry about. Just shut up a minute, and let me get this out, all right? It’s not easy.”

  Holding his hands up, Wolfe then pinched his thumb and index finger together and drew them across his lips in an I’m-zipping-my-mouth-shut gesture.

  Nodding, Wilkes said, “Okay, you’re half right.” He huffed out a heavy breath. “This weekend, I was at home. The weekend before, I was in London. At my boyfriend’s place.” His heart pounded madly as he waited for the response.

  This time, Wolfe’s eyebrows almost shot clean off his face. “Your... boyfriend?”

  “Yes. I’m gay. Never bothered coming out before because, well, there was nobody special. But this weekend I decided to kill two birds with one stone—took my fella along to my parents’, came out and introduced him to my family. They took it well. Turns out they’d known I was gay for years, and none of ‘em were bothered. They liked my bloke, too. Big weight off my shoulders. Next step was telling you lot—wasn’t planning to do it tonight, but you kinda put me on the spot.”

  Rubbing a hand over his head distractedly, Wolfe eventually said, “Wow. I mean, um, okay... God, I don’t know what to say.” There was a deep crease between his eyebrows, and his eyes were glazed over.

  Wilkes shrugged. “Nobody died. I just told you I’m gay. You either accept it or you don’t. Though I’m hoping you do.”

  With a sound somewhere between a chuckle and a gasp, Wolfe said, “Bloody hell, of course I accept it. Couldn’t give a shit about that! I’m just surprised, is all. I had no idea you were gay, so telling me that and that you’ve got a bloke is taking my tiny brain a while to process.”

  Wilkes grinned, but inside he was doing circus tricks; cartwheels, handstands, back flips. Wolfe had no problem with his sexuality... thank fuck for that! It didn’t guarantee everyone else would feel the same, of course, but Wolfe was one of his closest buddies, and therefore his opinion mattered. Not that it would have changed anything if he hadn’t accepted it—it would have just meant the end of their friendship.

  Relieved that wasn’t going to happen, Wilkes said, “Well, okay. Great. Glad that’s over with.” Picking up his tea again, he took a small sip, and, having ascertained he wasn’t going to burn his insides this time, he drank.

  “Whoa, whoa! What do you mean, over with?” Wolfe’s expression had gone through many transformations since Wilkes had broken the news, but now he was grinning, and had a wicked glint in his eye. “You think you’re getting away with telling me you’re gay and have a boyfriend, but bugger all else? Not a fucking chance, mate. I’ve known you for a long time, and not once have I had the opportunity to wind you up about your love life—but at least now I know why. I’m going to take this chance now I’ve got it. So... who is this bloke of yours? Anyone I know?” His eyes widened as a thought occurred to him. “Shit, is it someone here? Have you been sneaking around with someone, shagging in dark corners of the base?”

  Wilkes rolled his eyes, but couldn’t stop the smirk that crept onto his face. “No, it’s no one here. He’s not military. You don’t know him, but you do know who he is.”

  “Christ, could you be any more cryptic?”

  “I’m not! I’m answering your bloody questions. H
e’s, uh, the guy that interpreted for me on my last tour. Remember? The mate of poor old Juma Zazai?”

  Wolfe thought for a moment, then his eyes lit up with recognition. “Yes, I remember now. What was his name again?”

  “Rustam Balkhi. Before he was interpreting for us, he was training in London to be a doctor. So he’s gone back to doing that, finishing his education and whatnot. We only got together when we both got to the UK. It’s a fairly new thing between us, but I’ve been going up to London on my weekends off, and I was hoping eventually—once more folk knew about us—he’d come here occasionally, too. He’s a good bloke, I think you’ll like him.”

  Nodding thoughtfully, Wolfe said, “It’ll be great to meet him when you’re both ready. God, he must have been gutted about Zazai. Poor guy.”

  “He was. I was there when he found out—one of the village elders told us about his murder. Or should I say, told Balkhi, as he was translating for me at the time. He held it together pretty well, was really professional, but I could tell he was devastated.”

  “Hmm. Just as well he’s out of there, really, isn’t it? One bloke being killed for working with us is already too many—we don’t want any more.”

  “Definitely not. He hasn’t seen his family in months, poor sod. But I think he’s holding up okay—he knows it’d be way too dangerous to go back. Especially if they found out he was gay, too.”

  As the words came out of his mouth, Wilkes suddenly wondered if they were true. Was Balkhi holding up okay when it came to not being able to see his family? Wilkes missed his family when he didn’t see them, but at least he knew he could visit whenever possible without being in any kind of danger, or putting them in danger.

  But Balkhi going back to his village was a whole different ball game. It wasn’t just distance keeping them apart, but a life or death situation.

  He realised he’d been so focussed on their relationship, getting used to it and all the other things that came with them being together in England, that he’d forgotten about what it meant for Balkhi and his friends and relatives back home.