by KC Burn
There he went again. Stupid. It was bad enough he’d woken a couple of times during the night, the ghost of Dallas’s taste on his tongue, cock hard and throbbing, wanting more than was wise, personally or professionally.
That tiny memory was enough to send blood south. Here he was in a gay club filled with gorgeous men, and he knew damn well that none of them would be able to satisfy his damn cock, no matter how many orgasms he had. Bad enough that his nemesis was back in his workplace, but getting fixated on him? Even more than he’d been before? It would have been better if he’d never known how sexy Dallas looked, aroused and rumpled, his shirttails framing a long, slender cock. Will had to cut that shit out before it made him insane.
At least the bachelor up for bids now was the last one of the evening. Will didn’t know if he’d be able to find a Dallas facsimile for a quickie in the bathroom or out back, but he was damn well going to try, or get stinking drunk. Probably the drunk thing, because it had been a long time since he’d trusted his dick to a man whose name he didn’t know. He’d lost his taste for back-alley pleasures years ago. An image of taking Dallas against a rough brick wall, or even dropping to his knees in front of Dallas again pushed him closer to a full erection. Apparently his cock would be happy to have Dallas wherever possible. Which wasn’t going to happen. That blow job, however enthralling, was an aberration. A never to be repeated event.
The bidding stopped, and Will wrenched his mind away from all the ways he could have sex with Dallas. At first, he ignored what he presumed would be Raven’s closing speech. Will sought out the final bidder, and he waved him over. Then Raven’s words filtered into his consciousness.
“Guys, we had a late entrant, so I’m sure those of you without a bachelor won’t mind one more chance. He’s a recent transplant to Orlando, from the cold north. He’s twenty-four and a systems administrator at Idyll Fling. He loves video games and is hoping to meet that special someone one day. Everyone, meet Dallas Greene.”
What the ever-loving fuck? Will whipped around to stare at the stage. Sure enough, his Dallas Greene stood there in the spotlight, smiling shyly, wearing a paisley—goddamned paisley—shirt that showed Dallas had a lot more going on under those suits than Will had realized. And now everyone in the fucking club could see it too.
Will clenched his tablet, the one they’d been using to track donations, winners, and contact information. What was Dallas thinking? Will grimaced. Of course he knew what Dallas was thinking. Fucking up his work, and by association, his mind, wasn’t enough. Dallas needed to seep into all parts of his life.
“Hey, Will? Anything else we need to do?” Tyler, one of the Idyll Fling models and the guy who was supposed to be the last bachelor, tugged at his arm.
“What? Oh, no. Nothing. As soon as the donation clears, I’ll send your contact info to… uh….” Will normally remembered names, but this time, he was drawing a blank. “To number 121 here, and you guys can arrange your date at your convenience.”
Number 121 thanked him. “Tyler, can I buy you a drink in the meantime?”
Not exactly original, since every one of the winners had done the exact same. Thankfully, Tyler agreed, and they left him alone to concentrate on the bidding. Despite having auctioned off over thirty bachelors, the bidding was furious. Not surprising. If Dallas were wearing blue tights and giant S on his shirt instead of that fucking paisley body paint, he’d look just like Superman.
“Congratulations, number 43. Please come up to my colleague by the stage.” Raven waved a hand in Will’s direction. “As always, you can recognize him by his kilt.”
Raven then launched into his closing speech, where he talked up Tartan Candy almost as much as the charity itself. Will tuned him out, because in a moment, he was going to have to make nice with both Dallas and the asshole who’d purchased him. Number 43. Even the number sounded douchey.
Dallas stepped out of the spotlight and off the stage. And at that moment, Will realized this moment was a surprise for both of them. With both shock and embarrassment clear on Dallas’s face, Will understood that this, at least, was nothing more than an awkward coincidence. A galactic coincidence of astronomical awkwardness, yes, but not orchestrated by Dallas.
Somewhere, Will found a smile, but it probably looked more like he’d eaten bad tacos. A tiny part of him was delighted that Dallas looked almost as sick as Will felt.
“Hey, Will.” At the familiar voice, Will broke eye contact and turned away.
Jaime, Caleb’s cousin, wiggled his auction paddle, 43 practically flashing neon. Fucking figured. There was no part of Will that could scrounge up a smile for this.
With abrupt movements and sharp, brief sentences, he performed introductions, gritting his teeth just a bit over Jaime’s name, and completed the necessary transactions. Before Jaime could spirit Dallas off to the bar, presumably to ply him with alcohol, Will gripped Dallas’s bicep. “Can I speak to you for a moment?”
Jaime frowned and took a step forward. For a moment Will had forgotten that Jaime had been in the Army and was an EMT. He had an almost insufferable need to help people, when he wasn’t banging half the gay guys in Orlando.
Fortunately, Dallas smoothed things over. “It’s fine, Jaime. I work with Will.”
“Okay, Dallas, but please find me afterward.” A demand more than a request, but Dallas merely smiled and agreed. A tic in Will’s temple started flexing, one that hadn’t shown up since that day in the Human Resource Manager’s office, where she ruined his fucking life. Because of Dallas.
That was all Will needed, and he steered Dallas toward the tiny storage room the club manager had loaned Tartan Candy as a staging area, along with the changing room.
Dallas had gone along docilely enough, so after Will shut the door behind them, he didn’t expect Dallas to whirl around, looking as angry as Will had seen him.
IT HAD been a fucking shock seeing Will. Dallas almost hadn’t recognized him out of his cargo shorts and T-shirts. Will looked utterly delicious in a forest-green dress shirt that matched the green-and-blue kilt he’d been wearing.
A kilt. Dallas had thought he’d swallow his tongue. He’d thought Raven was gorgeous in his red-kilted splendor, but Will, without his trademark surfer dude look, appeared much more like what Dallas imagined a Scottish Highlander would look like, right down to the wild blond shoulder-length hair. The kind in the romance novels he’d stealthily borrowed from his college roommate’s girlfriend, a guilty pleasure that had eventually led to Dragon’s Ruin. Of course, in those books, the Highlander always found a feisty lass to marry, when Dallas would have far rather he’d gotten together with his taciturn second-in-command.
As soon as he’d gotten over his shock, he’d remembered the blow job. It had made the introductions to Jaime even more awkward, but at least Dallas had been unaware of Will’s presence while he’d been on stage. He might have frozen right there, under the spotlight. It had been hard enough to smile while Raven had talked him up to the crowd.
But it didn’t take long to register Will’s ire, reminding Dallas forcibly of Will’s ignominious escape and his own hurt and anger. He had no idea why Will was pissed off, but Dallas was the one who’d been wronged here, and if Will wanted to talk, Dallas was getting some explanations.
“Well? What do you want?” Dallas probably shouldn’t talk to his boss like that, but after Friday, those waters were damned murky.
Will’s eyes widened at Dallas’s aggressive tone, but it didn’t take long for his frown to return. “What are you doing here? Did you follow me again?”
“Think you’re God’s gift to gay boys?” The blow job had been stellar, but still. “Beck invited me.”
A little muscular tic started up at Will’s temple, telling Dallas louder than words that Beck’s invitation didn’t improve Will’s mood any.
“If I was going to follow you, Will,” Dallas sneered, “it would have been Friday afternoon. When you pulled a runner like a guy who’d just remembered he had a
boyfriend.”
This time, Will’s surprise made him step back. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”
The statement seemed genuine, but he needed to confirm Will’s single status almost as much as he needed a reasonable explanation for Will’s disappearing act.
“What about Jesse?”
“Jesse? How did you know about Jesse?”
God. Will wasn’t a stupid man, but he was trying Dallas’s patience. “It wasn’t exactly a secret around the office, you know.”
A hint of pink colored Will’s cheeks, and he looked away. “I wasn’t cheating on anyone.”
There was an odd note in his voice, though, one Dallas needed to investigate further. “That didn’t sound convincing, Will. Convince me that you’re not a cheating scumbag.” He hadn’t known until that moment how much he was hoping Will wasn’t a cheater, and how much he didn’t want to be “the other man.” At least with Hugh, he knew… or thought he knew… he was the only guy. The women Hugh dated to stay in the closet didn’t count, but now that Dallas was living out loud, he didn’t think he could go back to even that half life he’d had with Hugh.
“For fuck’s sake.” Will’s anger had returned, but not the tic in his temple, which reassured Dallas some. “Fine. When you and I worked together, Jesse and I were having problems.” The pink in his cheeks got darker. “I’ll admit, I thought you were hot, and I think, at times, it only served to illuminate the cracks in my relationship.”
Oh holy fuck. Will had noticed him that way too. He’d suspected after Friday, but this was almost a signed affidavit.
“And what happened?”
Will frowned. “I got laid off. Things got worse, and when we broke up, I moved back in with my folks until I got a job offer from Florida. Happy?”
Aside from the little pinprick of pain when he realized Will’s parents hadn’t kicked him out for being gay, Dallas was actually happy. “And no new boyfriends?” Asking about sexual partners would probably only piss him off, but at least that wasn’t cheating.
Will snorted. “Like I’ve had the fucking time for that.”
Even better. If he’d just be reasonable about Dallas working at Idyll Fling, there would be time for boyfriends. Dallas would make sure of it, although that might be more of a battle than the ones he’s faced so far.
“Well, if that’s it, then….” Dallas reached for the door, but Will stopped him.
“That’s not it. I didn’t drag you in here to talk about Jesse.”
“Oh?” Right. Dallas had completely derailed the conversation Will had wanted to have.
“You need to be careful around Jaime.”
“Really?” Somehow he didn’t think Raven would have arranged for Jaime to “buy” him if he were the dangerous sort. At first glance, he was every bit as hot as Will, and he seemed sweet.
“He’s a player. Sleeps with just about anyone and isn’t interested in anything but sex.”
Was he now? Sounded like jealousy to Dallas. He stepped closer to Will. “What if I want sex?”
Will’s expression darkened, confirming Dallas’s suspicions. He took another step, the fabric of their clothes rustling as they brushed.
“What if I want it right now?” Without waiting for an answer, he bent his head and captured Will’s lips in the kiss he’d been dreaming of. Whatever happened, he wasn’t going to let Will cheat him out of kissing this time.
He’d barely got his tongue inside Will’s mouth when Will pulled away and stared at him. Dallas tried to hold strong, but he wasn’t sure he’d survive Will saying he didn’t want this.
Their gazes held, and Will’s breathing became more rapid. They were still close enough that Will’s chest moved against Dallas’s, and Dallas’s erection—almost painfully constricted in too-tight pants—brushed against Will’s sporran.
Then Will twisted the sporran to the side before he pushed Dallas up against the door and plastered his lips over Dallas’s.
Victory!
Dallas dug his hands into Will’s hair and plundered his mouth, showing Will just how much he wanted this. Will wrapped his arms around Dallas’s shoulders and kissed him back, demonstrating more than one talent that mouth had. Considering how quickly Will had gone for his cock the day before, Dallas hadn’t expected this. Will didn’t seem to be in a hurry to get them naked.
Oh God. Naked. Kilts. Dallas must have lost his fucking mind, to have forgotten that one tiny piece of information. Was Will naked under that kilt?
He groaned into Will’s mouth as his dick tried to batter its way through his zipper. He had not thought these pants through at all. He couldn’t complain, though, because Will shifted to dust light, sucking kisses over his jaw before nipping at his earlobe. Dallas shivered, and groaned again, pressing his groin against the heavy erection seeking his through Will’s kilt, heedless of the pain from the zipper. Will began pinching at his nipples and stroking his belly just above the waistband of his damnable pants.
Dallas returned the favor, attacking Will’s neck with his mouth. The answering groan he got only made him more frantic. The fine tremors shaking Will’s frame matched Dallas’s shivers. God. What was it about Will that made him so fucking crazy?
Will moved his mouth back to Dallas’s, and this time the kiss was nothing less than voracious, tongues fighting as they devoured each other. Everything disappeared but Will’s scent, and his heat, and the desperate, driving need that centered in his cock but it was like every part of his body needed the release only Will could give him.
Precum spurted into his briefs. It would be a fucking shame to come in his pants, but he might not have a choice if Will didn’t back off and get him naked. Like he could read Dallas’s mind, Will moved his hands south. Fumbling fingers betrayed Will’s loss of finesse as he tried to wrench Dallas’s pants open. He pulled back, lips swollen, pupils blown.
“Did you paint these fuckers on?” Will sounded half joking, half annoyed.
Dallas let out a breathy laugh and undid his pants. Will grunted in satisfaction as he yanked them down. Once gravity took hold, they slid down to his knees. Will didn’t miss a beat and wrapped a hand around his length.
“Wait, wait,” Dallas commanded, or tried to.
IT WAS the hardest thing he’d ever done, but Will froze at Dallas’s words. He couldn’t quite bring himself to release his hand. Dallas’s cock lay hot in his hand, pulsing with Dallas’s heartbeat, and it was so fucking beautiful. Everything about Dallas was.
He smelled of coconut and lime, with a hint of salt from the precum that had already escaped. In other words, Dallas smelled decadent, like a tropical treat, to be indulged in on a special occasion. It wasn’t Will’s birthday, but it wasn’t often a man he’d dreamed about offered himself up to Will like this. Will had been going to pretend, just for tonight, that nothing existed but the two of them.
But Dallas wanted him to wait. “What’s wrong?” Will whispered, afraid of the answer.
Dallas let out a breathy chuckle. “What’s under your kilt?”
The words didn’t make sense, but Dallas scrabbling under the fabric made things clear. When Dallas got a handful of his cock, Will let out a tortured groan. Dallas toyed with his dick, wrapping his long fingers firmly around him and stroking. He groaned again.
He let his hand move on Dallas’s dick, hoping the command to wait had only been so Dallas could get under his kilt. When Dallas let his head fall back against the door, jutting his hips forward, Will let go for a few precious seconds to lick his palm, then started stroking again.
“Holy fuck.” Dallas’s words were quiet, reverent, and for a few seconds, all they did was stroke each other, but Dallas moved again, biting and sucking Will’s neck. God. It had been forever since someone had hit on one of his hot buttons. So many guys forgot about anything but the dick, and he was no better, having ignored the pleasures of simply kissing Dallas the day before.
“I want to fuck you so bad.” Will hadn’t meant to say that aloud, but D
allas made him crazy.
Dallas lifted his head. “Why don’t you?”
Will’s knees weakened at the thought of fulfilling yet another fantasy. There was only one problem. He might have gone commando at a gay club, but he really hadn’t planned to have sex with anyone. The logistics of hitting the men’s room for a condom would surely shatter the moment.
“No condoms.”
“I’ve got some. In my pocket. Lube too.”
Until Dallas had blown back into his life, Will hadn’t realized it was possible to be pissed off and turned the fuck on at the same time, but it had happened so often in the past two weeks, it was starting to feel normal. He had no right to demand Dallas not screw anyone else, neither did he want to think about anyone else, like Jaime, having free access to Dallas’s body.
He helped Dallas kick off his shoes and pants before guiding him over to the desk. Dallas bent over eagerly, ass lifted, making Will’s mouth water. Will slid his hands up Dallas’s inner thighs, pushing slightly to coax those muscular legs a bit farther apart since Dallas was a bit taller than Will.
After rescuing a handful of condoms and lube packets, he pulled out the one he wanted and placed the rest on the desk.
This little interlude had calmed him a bit, and he took the time to pop on the condom. Once he got going, he wasn’t going to want to pause for protection. Besides, it wasn’t like he was going to be able to hold out for hours. Just long enough to get Dallas wordless and wanting again.
Dallas twisted to peer over his shoulder. “Should I put one on too?” His words were hesitant.
“Why?” It was bad enough that Will wanted to mark Dallas, come all over him, in him. Not that he would. But he’d be damned if he’d give up the reward of seeing Dallas spurt. The scent, the taste. He wanted it all.