by Clare London
Benjy met them there, flicking through the shots on his camera. “They’re good.”
“Good?” Behind them, Sven sounded unconvinced.
“Yeah. Not the familiar edge, I admit. But there’s depth and emotion to this that’s much more powerful.” Benjy held Zeb’s gaze for a long moment. “I’ll make sure you look right every time, punk. Whoever you are.”
“Whoever—?” Zeb went very still.
Benjy laughed. “However. I said ‘however you are.’ I’m here for you.”
Zeb laughed too, though shakily. “Thanks.”
“And you look pretty tasty in the blue.” Benjy’s mischievous look returned, this time cast in Dom’s direction. “Here. For you two.” He slid a small item into the front pocket of Dominic’s jeans, then went back to the cameras.
Zeb tugged on Dom’s sleeve. “Let’s go,” he hissed. “And quickly! If Sven says sweetie one more time, I won’t be responsible for the violence.”
They almost ran down the stairs, chuckling. No one and nothing distracted them as they came out onto the street. If anyone did, Dom had every intention of smacking them on the nose as he had the reporter.
“Do you have your car?” Zeb asked.
Dom stared at him. Car? What car? He couldn’t think straight. All he could see was the vision of Zeb twisting and smiling and damn near nude, apart from those bloody ridiculous blue trunks. It was as if the memory had been burned onto his mind’s eye, making him feel simultaneously too hot and too cold, so he opened his mouth and let the nonsense out in a burst of his trademark honesty. “He was right. That photographer bloke. You do look tasty in blue.”
Zeb laughed.
The sound was slightly nervous but still completely, utterly charming to Dom. “But even better out of it,” he said huskily.
Zeb blinked rather faster than before. “Really?”
“Really.” Dom cleared his throat. There were too many bloody people on the street, but that wasn’t going to stop him asking. Ridiculous that he should feel so nervous! “I don’t force myself on anyone, but if you don’t want the next step, you’ll have to take yourself out of my physical reach. I want us to go back to my place, right away. I’m not good at the pretty speeches or romantic gestures… but I want you. I don’t mean in a cruel or angry way, I only want what you want to give. But I won’t be responsible for my actions otherwise.”
“Dominic?”
Dom loved the way Zeb always gave him his full name. Sexy as hell—the same as how he looked so serious sometimes, and how he enjoyed his food so enthusiastically, and discussed the movies they’d been to, and allowed Dom’s sweeping generalization that all reality TV shows were crap, and agreed with him about the quality and sweetness of the air on the top of the hills—and especially sexy was the wicked smile on Zeb’s face right now.
“That’s the most romantic thing I’ve heard for a long time,” Zeb said breathlessly. “So let’s go back to yours now, right?”
DOM drove as carefully as he could. Thank God there were no accidents at Regent’s Park or roadworks at Paddington. Or, God forbid, any parties of schoolkids, suicidal cyclists, or bumbling pensioner drivers to get in his way. All he could think about—hear, feel, smell sitting next to him in the car—was Zeb.
They didn’t speak or comment for the whole of the journey, but to Dom’s delight, Zeb seemed as aware of him in return. Every time Dom swung the car around a right-hand turn, Zeb nudged up against him. At one point Zeb put a hand on Dom’s knee and didn’t remove it for several minutes. Dom could smell Zeb’s distinctive citrus cologne and hear his shallow breathing. The air felt too thin to him and his heartbeat was racing. He felt everything inside him quicken, exactly as if he were on top of a mountain.
The fates smiled on him. There was a parking meter right outside his house, no sign of any paparazzi, and even a patch of blue sky settling over the whole street. Maybe he’d imagined the blue sky, because he couldn’t actually take his eyes off Zeb and his mischievous smile.
The key to his front door stuck for a few frustrating seconds, and then they both stepped into the house chuckling, virtually on each other’s heels.
It all ground to an awkward halt.
Dom and Zeb paused in the hallway, staring at each other. They were a little out of breath, though neither had run anywhere. Dom slipped off his coat and hung it on the hook by the door. Zeb just stood there, tugging at the hem of his denim jacket. Dom couldn’t help noticing it was a very restrained style, unlike some of the stuff he’d seen Zeb wear. In fact, recently Zeb looked a lot less like the fashion model Dom had first met, and much more like… just a bloke. Admittedly a bloody good-looking bloke: a witty, sassy, clever, principled bloke. A bloke who had somehow entangled himself so far into Dom’s psyche that Zeb only had to gaze up into his face, and Dom’s prick started pushing for release inside his trousers.
A bloke in blue briefs. Dom wondered for a wild, shameful second whether Zeb was still wearing them, or whether he’d changed back into something more respectable. Respectable. Huh. Dom was the one imagining his date spread out on the bed, laughing and flushed and stark naked. He was the dirty old pervert.
“Dominic?” Zeb was peering at him, a worried look on his face. “Shit. I understand. Too fast, right? Or maybe it’s not the same now we’re back here. You know, away from the glamor.”
“What?” And God, did that come out like a bark!
Zeb shrugged very gently, his gaze skittering away from Dom’s. “I’ll make my way out, no problem at all. Sorry you had to sit through all that crap at the studio. I never expected—”
“What?” Dom repeated. The panic was a physical lump in his throat. He tried to tone down his volume. “I mean, no, I’m not sorry at all. And don’t go. Please. Don’t go.”
“You looked upset….”
“Everything’s fine. Everything’s good. Very good.” Why the hell was his expensively educated vocabulary failing him now? He might not be the softest speaker on the planet, but he could usually express his wants and needs without scaring the horses.
Zeb gave one of those wicked little smiles he had, the ones that made the back of Dom’s neck tingle. “I’m glad to hear it.” He reached forward and ran his hand along Dom’s forearm. It was a tentative move and almost shy—though Dom had no idea why the confident Zeb Z would be nervous of approaching a clumsy old bear like him. “But we’ve never actually discussed this. You know, the… intimate terms of the deal.”
“Fuck the deal,” Dom said as clearly as he could. “This is just about us. Isn’t it?”
“Yes, I suppose it is. I’m just… not used to this kind of thing.”
“Sex?” Dom asked bluntly, not believing Zeb for one second. How come he was playing so coy?
“No! I mean this sudden move. So soon. So… unexpected.”
“Unwelcome?” Dom was worried that his voice broke on the word.
Zeb’s eyes widened in that semishocked way he had when Dom raised his voice or was particularly aggressive. Dom was just thinking—irrationally, wildly—about grading it on a scale of sexy compared to all of Zeb’s other mannerisms, when Zeb leaned even farther forward and kissed him full on the lips.
With tongue.
Plenty of it.
“No,” Zeb whispered into Dom’s mouth, “not at all unwelcome. Quite the opposite, in fact.”
Thank you, whatever gods are above!
Dom thrust his arms around Zeb’s waist and pulled him into a hug from knee to chest. Zeb snaked a hand under the hem of Dom’s shirt and ran his fingernails along Dom’s skin.
Dom sucked in a thick breath. “I’ll take it wherever we are, believe me,” he growled at Zeb. “But my bedroom’s more comfortable.”
Chapter Twenty-One
AIDAN had been right when he told Dominic he didn’t usually do this kind of thing. But for that glorious moment in the hall, he’d drawn on the best of both himself and Zeb, and played for what he wanted. And oh God, but he wanted Dominic!
The desire clenching in his gut was hot and bold, and for once Aidan wanted to follow that path. His previous experience with men had been slow, steady, and way too cautious—and even then, he’d racked up a history of startlingly bad choices. So why shouldn’t he follow the Zeb path in more than clothing and attitude, and grasp some happy, strings-free sex as and when it presented itself?
A whole new me.
Aidan paused in the doorway of Dominic’s very masculine bedroom. That wasn’t really the case. He was still himself—Aidan, the one in the background, the more timid twin, a quiet, creative, deep-feeling man—but the Zeb persona was very empowering. Had the modeling shoot been that horrific, or had he secretly enjoyed flaunting himself? Maybe everyone had a show-off inside them, maybe everyone enjoyed the limelight. Was it just that some people reveled in it while others held back, feeling guilty at their perceived weakness?
“Zeb?” Dominic pressed up against his back, gentle now, his mouth at Aidan’s neck, his breath heating the nape. Dominic touched his throat, then ran his fingers slowly down inside the neckline of Aidan’s T-shirt. “May I?”
It was a side to Dominic that Aidan hadn’t seen: this careful, solicitous behavior. Aidan knew that if he said no now, Dominic would step away. Yet Aidan had no desire to do that. He turned so he was facing Dominic, slid his hand around the back of Dominic’s neck, and drew him in to a new, deep kiss. “My turn to say please.”
Dominic chuckled and pulled himself out of Aidan’s grip. He peeled Aidan’s shirt up and over his head, letting it fall to the floor.
Aidan did the same with Dominic’s shirt, letting his hands linger on the muscled torso beneath. Oh God, but Dominic was fine! Aidan flattened his palms on Dominic’s pecs; the dark hairs were warm between his fingers. He stretched out his little finger and flicked a nipple—a dark brown nub on a lighter brown circle, surrounded by even more of the soft, sexy curls.
Dominic gave a moan, only half under his breath. “Ouch.”
“It hurts?”
“In the best bloody way,” Dominic said with a grin. “If I don’t get my jeans off soon, I’ll end up in hospital with dangerously trapped circulation.”
“Not a good thing for a mountaineer to have, I suspect.”
Dominic laughed again. His breathing was heavier than before. He gripped Aidan’s shoulder with one hand and used the other to release the button and zip on his confining jeans.
Aidan quickly unzipped his own, and they got into an amusing kind of race where they both tried to get their shoes, jeans, and underwear off quickly, without tripping over each other’s pile of discarded clothing.
Aidan caught Dominic’s gaze running up and down Aidan’s body—and his brief look of disappointment. Embarrassment washed over him in a mixture of fire and ice. Surely he wasn’t that lacking in inches—
“You left the blue ones behind,” Dom said thickly. “Pity.”
Aidan’s relief made his laugh too loud. “You only want me for my designer briefs, eh?”
Dominic’s pupils grew so large that Aidan could barely see the brown irises around them. “No way. I want you for much more than that.”
Aidan gazed at Dominic: several inches taller, many pounds heavier, definitely fitter… and just the perfect man. Dominic’s torso had a fine covering of dark hair accentuating the lines of his pecs and rib cage, and his upper thighs were similarly furred. It was as if someone had scribbled over the lines of his muscles with a dark, soft pencil. The cluster of extra hair at his groin was just… extra joy. Aidan’s cock thickened; his skin ached with desire.
Dominic cleared his throat. “Feel free to look all you want,” he said hoarsely. “I’m happy with what I’ve got. But I’ll cope with different expectations, if that’s what you’ve got.”
“Don’t be daft.” Aidan couldn’t hold back his excitement; he was sure it was beaming out of his eyes. “You’re gorgeous.”
“They’re not too much for you? My hairy—” He waggled his brows jokingly. “—credentials?”
Aidan laughed happily. He remembered that night at the club for all the wrong reasons, but also for some of the right ones. “I’d certainly like to enjoy them to the full. Please. Let me hold you.”
They lay down on top of the very large bed. Seriously, it was almost twice the size of Aidan’s own. Dominic had pulled back the sheet but neither of them climbed under it. To Aidan it was the height of decadence to be lying naked on the top of a bed in the middle of the afternoon, with light streaming in from between the open curtains. But at the same time, he gloried in it.
Dominic took longer to settle on the bed, rummaging first in the top drawer of one of a set of matching bedside tables.
“Are you looking for something specific?” Aidan asked hoarsely. He had the most perfect view of Dominic’s back and buttocks, as he stretched out over the edge of the mattress.
Dom cleared his throat, scattered some items on the top of the unit, and then closed the drawer. When he rolled back to face Aidan, he was flushed. “I was just getting… I mean, I don’t know what you’re up for, but it’s best I get things prepared.”
Aidan felt a thrill run down his back like the edge of a feather. “Supplies for the expedition, Mr. Mountaineer?”
“Don’t.” There was a strange tug to Dominic’s voice.
“Don’t…?”
Dominic gave a snort of disgust. “Hell. Just me, being a touchy kind of tosser. Must’ve been something in the air at that bloody studio. Ignore me.”
But Aidan knew what Dominic was saying. This wasn’t the time for teasing, however fond, however used they were to that way of interacting. He shifted closer to Dominic and nuzzled at his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “You’re not being touchy, just sensitive. I’m nervous too.”
“You?” Dominic shook his head, his expression puzzled. “Come here, then. You don’t have to be nervous with me.”
Aidan slid into his arms, and Dominic’s warmth covered him from neck to knees. Aidan’s smooth skin slid against Dominic’s more rugged flesh, sensuous and a little sweaty, and he wrapped his much skinnier legs around Dominic’s, trying to get as close as possible.
“God. You feel… astonishing. Marvelous.” Dominic’s voice was ragged and he ground his hips into Aidan’s, rubbing their cocks against each other.
His heart racing and his mouth dry, Aidan sat up again. He took the opportunity to run his hands down Dominic’s body from the heavy, firm shoulders to his softer belly, snagging the hairs that thickened below that. Dominic’s cock was heavy, lifting up from his groin. The tip glistened with moisture.
A rush of desire swam through Aidan and, scooting down on the bed, he dipped quickly to lap at it. Dominic’s thighs tensed up momentarily, then his legs relaxed and fell open wider. Aidan snuggled into the harbor they made on either side of his shoulders and slid his mouth farther down the shaft.
“Oh fuck.” Dominic groaned louder.
Aidan anchored his hands on Dominic’s hips and began to lick up and down in earnest. He might have been a poor judge of his boyfriends’ integrity in the past, but he’d always been good at the sexual part of relationships. He’d just never had much chance to relax emotionally into one. But here he was, dropping any inhibitions he’d ever had, and loving it. Dominic’s limbs were strong and muscled under his grip, and the hairs on his thighs tickled Aidan’s chin as he dipped deeper on Dominic’s cock. When Aidan paused on an upward stroke to suck around the tip, Dominic yelped with pleasure and hovered his hand over Aidan’s head as if longing to take hold of his hair but afraid to take liberties. Dominic stretched his knees even wider apart.
Aidan had been ready to roll over and take whatever Dominic wanted to give, but something about his response made him pause. He let Dominic’s cock slide slowly off his tongue and sat up on his heels. “You okay?” he murmured.
Dominic raised his eyebrows. He’d gritted his teeth, as if to restrain his moans and groans. “What is it they say? Do bears shit in the
woods?”
Aidan grinned. “Will you turn over? I want to see that arse of yours. I want to get my hands on it, massage it, touch it… slip a finger inside.” His fingertips tingled with the need to caress Dominic all over, inside and out. “If you’d like that.”
Dominic gave out another couple of gargled words that sounded like “bears” and “woods” and rolled over swiftly onto his front. Their legs tangled briefly, and then Dominic resettled himself so he was lying between Aidan’s thighs.
His arse was compact for such a bulky man, but beautifully formed. Aidan felt he was being given his Christmas treat, months too early. He traced the dimples at the base of Dominic’s spine. The skin was dusted with hair even down there. Then he ran a finger down between Dominic’s taut buttocks.
“Jesus.”
Aidan noted how Dominic tensed up, but also how his cheek muscles then relaxed into the touch. Aidan licked the fingers of his right hand and ran them around Dominic’s pucker, patting and stroking the entrance. The skin was darker, and the hairs tangled and deliciously damp with sweat. Dominic gave a long, very heartfelt sigh, and Aidan felt a wonderful, embarrassingly delicious feeling of power.
“Will you”—Dominic’s neck was very flushed and he seemed to be having trouble articulating—“fuck me?”
Aidan’s heartbeat suspended for one glorious moment, then started up again at double speed. “I’d love to.”
It had been a long time since Aidan had topped. He really liked it, but his previous boyfriends had all assumed… well, he wasn’t going to think about them any longer, was he? He ran his hands up Dominic’s thick thighs, caressing the sensitive seam between thigh and buttock, teasing between Dominic’s legs at the back of his balls. The skin along Dominic’s taint seemed to shiver at Aidan’s touch.
Aidan reached for a condom and lube from the supplies Dominic had thoughtfully prepared.
“Go slowly,” Dominic said. He’d buried his head in the pillow and his voice was indistinct.
“That’s how we both want it,” Aidan murmured. He slid a lubed finger inside Dominic and moved gently in and out. God. The channel was tight and smooth, and Aidan could only imagine what it would feel like around his cock.