Some unnamed force propelled Ken forward instead of taking a step back. He flew off the stage and right into Dirk’s lap, as if it was the safest place in the world. It felt right, straddling Dirk’s thighs.
“What are you doing?” Dirk asked with a low growl.
The sound lit Ken’s nerves on fire. Although the grumpy bear asked silly questions he knew the answers to, he didn’t shove Ken aside, much less comment when Ken wrapped his arms around his neck.
“I said I’ll help you forget your pain.” Ken waited, testing Dirk’s reaction. He didn’t think surviving Dirk’s potential rejection was possible, though, not after all he’d done to lure him here.
“You don’t need to do that.”
“I want to.”
“Why?” Dirk asked, frowning.
With his teeth, Ken caught Dirk’s bottom lip, nipping at it. His breaths hitched when Dirk settled one arm around his waist. Dirk’s other hand cupped Ken’s ass, pinching one cheek through the thin fabric of his briefs.
Shifting uneasily, Ken found movement impossible. Dirk held him tight, his grip like iron, unyielding.
“No reason. Can’t we just be two strangers who happened to meet and fall in love?”
Dirk’s harsh laugh jarred Ken’s insides. “Love? Give me a break. The world doesn’t work like that.”
Grabbing Dirk’s left hand, Ken traced the line of discolored skin where Dirk’s wedding band had once sat. Somewhere between the park and the club, the man had slipped off that infernal ring, likely placing it in one of his pockets. The fact that Dirk hadn’t tossed the band off the bridge, though, had told Ken enough. Dirk hadn’t moved on from his bastard of a husband. But Ken had meant every word he’d told Dirk earlier—if Dirk would eventually be his to keep, the thought of sleeping with other men would never occur to him.
Releasing Dirk’s hand, Ken pressed his head against the man’s chest, closing his eyes. Dirk’s chest rose and fell against him, his heart beating as fast as Ken’s, uncertain yet excited about the unknown.
“Sorry,” Dirk murmured. He shifted his hand from Ken’s ass to stroke the length of his spine, his touch possessive, yet unexpectedly gentle.
“You apologize too much,” Ken stated.
To shut Dirk up, he kissed him. Unsurprised, Dirk clasped the back of his neck, and Ken melted against the man’s heat, yielding to the demanding press of his mouth. Stop talking, start fucking. Ken had always said those words to his hook-ups, but Dirk wasn’t a mere distraction.
For as long as Ken remembered, he’d switched men as often as he’d changed condom flavors. Relationships never interested him. They took too much work and crushed the soul. Wanting something more than casual sex frightened him.
Dirk seemed a little off the dating game, too. He struck Ken as a “forever” kind of guy. Both of them had issues, but the kiss finally pushed them both off the edge.
Dirk released his mouth. Both of them panted.
“No more regrets,” Ken said, his implication clear.
“We can’t do this here,” Dirk murmured.
Chapter Six
“Who says we can’t?” Ken responded, daring Dirk with his eyes.
Unexpectedly, Dirk buried his face into Ken’s chest, his breath warm against the skin. “I’m this close to losing control.”
Ken tilted Dirk’s strong, unshaven jaw, fingers digging into the flesh. “Why don’t you let go? I can feel your frustration and pain, and it’s eating you up, honey bear.”
The hitching of Dirk’s breath and his dilating pupils were answer enough.
“I can’t. I’m a married man,” Dirk mumbled. Weak protestations, and they both knew it.
“Guess what, honey bear? I don’t see a ring on your finger.” Ken didn’t add Dirk’s loser ex wouldn’t give a damn either way who Dirk fucked. “Forget it, just for one night with me.”
Ken knew the battle had been won before it even began. Dirk settled his hands on Ken’s waist, his grip strong, powerful, and capable of breaking bones. But again, Ken knew that Dirk would never hurt him.
“Kiss me,” Ken demanded, silently pleading Dirk to lead the dance. Today, he’d seen a glimpse of the domineering side of Dirk’s personality and wanted more.
Dirk heeded his demand, now gripping Ken’s wrists, disabling movement. Bolder now, Dirk took his mouth, all tongue, teeth, and unrestrained passion. Responding, Ken sunk his fingertips into Dirk’s shoulders.
With subtle movements, he began to divest Dirk of his clothes. Dirk’s tie went first. He unfastened the top buttons of his white shirt next. Unveiling the hard expense of Dirk’s broad chest and torso, Ken licked his lips in anticipation.
“Like what you see?”
God, even Dirk’s voice had changed, turning deeper, harsher. Never in his entire life was Ken more turned on.
“You know I do,” Ken replied, startled by his own voice, husky and full of need.
“So good,” Dirk muttered, his tongue lashing Ken’s lips. Kissing his way down, Dirk sucked the chords of Ken’s throat, his beard bristles harsh against Ken’s skin.
When Dirk closed his mouth over Ken’s nipples, Ken cried out, aware of his erection straining against his briefs. Dirk rolled his tongue around the bud until it hardened. Sensing the slight edge of teeth, Ken gasped when Dirk bit down, leaving his mark. Pulling away, lust lit Dirk’s eyes after seeing the bite. Ken shuddered, unable to recall any other man who was capable of such a visceral reaction.
“I need, want more of you, Ken.”
Looking deep into Dirk’s eyes, he pressed a hand on Dirk’s chest to feel the galloping heartbeats, so like his own.
“I’m all yours, honey bear. I’m not going anywhere.”
****
Somehow, they ended on the tiny stage, with Dirk straddling his delightful and sexy little stripper. Obviously refusing to be a dormant participant, Ken tugged at his clothes. Annoyed, Dirk let out a low snarl and let Ken peel away the last inch of his clothing.
Fully nude, Dirk looked at Ken, expecting a backlash of some sort, an off-handed comment about his imperfections. Warren had never seemed to run out of them. Dirk needed to go to the gym often, to lay off the carbs, to wash the dishes. With Warren, lists were endless.
Ken, though, stared at him like he was the most perfect specimen he’d ever laid eyes on. A first for Dirk, and he couldn’t deny his pleasure.
“Wow,” Ken commented.
“Are you talking about my dick?” Dirk asked, not embarrassed by his thick and curving member.
Ken let out a breath, feigning insult. “I’m not that shallow.”
“You were clearly looking down below,” Dirk said, amused when Ken shifted his gaze back to his face.
“Do what you did before,” Ken pleaded, still underneath him.
Dirk raised one eyebrow, brushing a finger across the imprint of his teeth around Ken’s nipple.
“I like seeing your marks on me,” Ken said, flushing, the reaction riling up Dirk’s “inner bear.”
“Mine,” the mark all but screamed, but Dirk wasn’t entirely sure about that. For tonight maybe, but when tomorrow came, would things painfully return to normal? Well, he couldn’t care less, not tonight.
Dirk created a path of hot kisses from Ken’s neck to hip. One look down and he knew Ken was close to bursting, not that he couldn’t say the same for himself. Noticing where Dirk’s gaze lingered—at Ken’s long and needy prick—the stripper closed his thighs, or tried to anyway. Dirk kept them firmly apart, planting one kiss on Ken’s left inner thigh, then his right.
“When are you getting to the good part?” Ken demanded, slightly breathless.
“Hush. I intend to fully enjoy every inch of you.” Dirk blew at Ken’s tip, tongue lashing out to lick at the pre-cum, making the man shudder.
“Damn, baby. You’re going to be the death of me,” Ken accused.
Dirk tongued Ken’s slit with relish, swirling his tongue under the head. “I should be the one saying that.
”
Dragging his tongue down Ken’s length, Dirk savored every dirty curse and groan of pleasure that he wrangled out of Ken’s throat. Not neglecting Ken’s balls, Dirk sucked at each one before moving to the puckered hole.
“Not there,” Ken murmured, but his protests died quickly enough.
Dirk traced circles around the rim, hands firmly holding apart Ken’s thighs. Pushing one tongue inside Ken’s ring of pink muscles, he fucked and licked Ken’s asshole until the man begged for mercy. Dirk didn’t think he could get enough of Ken’s pleas.
“Need to be inside you soon,” Dirk said, blowing at Ken’s tempting little hole.
“I want you inside me now … please,” Ken said, adding the last word like an afterthought, making Dirk chuckle.
“Lube and condom?” he asked hopefully.
Ken grinned. “Lucky for you, I have them nearby. Check the right back pocket of my jeans.”
Dirk raised an eyebrow. Unwarranted jealousy hit him like several lethal punches in the gut. He had no right to feel it, but still, it galled Dirk. No other man should be inside Ken after tonight. “I take it you do this sort of thing often.”
Ken narrowed his gaze. “What the heck are you implying?”
“It wasn’t an insult,” Dirk murmured, running his palm up and down Ken’s left inner thigh.
What the fuck was happening to him? He was reacting like some possessive and undisciplined teenager and felt guilty.
“It better not be.” Ken eyed his expression, then pursed his lips. “Aren’t you going to ride me, honey bear?”
“You’re really one of a kind,” Dirk grumbled, reaching for Ken’s jeans. Finding the packets of condoms and lube, he broke the foil of one, sheathed his dick, and knelt in front of Ken. He propped Ken’s legs above his shoulders.
“God, I hope so. The world wouldn’t know what to do with two of me,” Ken joked, as if apologizing for his initial outburst.
Lubing his fingers, Dirk squeezed a generous amount down Ken’s crack. He moved like a man with a sense of urgency, somehow terrified Ken would retract his offer and tell Dirk he’d changed his mind.
If Dirk had a choice in the matter, he wouldn’t be taking Ken like this, on the floor of a stage in a strip club’s private room. Well, no backing away now.
He slipped a finger inside Ken’s hole, then a second, curling them inward. Gasping, eyes widening, Ken gripped his shoulders.
“Do that again.”
Dirk reached for Ken’s gland again, loving the sound of Ken’s gasp. Inserting a third finger, he widened Ken for his access.
“Now,” Ken whispered.
Blanketing his body over Ken’s, Dirk gripped his hips and pushed in his cock head. Slow and steady, Dirk pushed inside Ken, gauging his reaction. Every inch of delicious progress felt like a torturous but satisfying crawl. Finally, buried fully inside Ken, Dirk groaned when the man’s inner muscles clamped around his shaft.
“Deep breaths,” Dirk instructed, wondering how long he’d last. “Fuck, baby. You’re so tight, so amazing around my dick.”
“Keep the poetry running.” Ken gasped when Dirk began to move.
Using slow thrusts at first, Dirk eventually found a rhythm. He pumped in and out of Ken, aware of their sweat-slicked skin touching. Each time their bodies collided, he went deeper, faster, breaching Ken’s most intimate places. Ken looped his arms around Dirk’s neck, his breaths hitching.
“Fuck me harder, honey bear,” Ken insisted.
Dirk reduced both of them to pants and animal noises. Something started unraveling inside him, weeks of tension melting away. With Ken’s warm body pressed close to his and the man’s thundering heartbeats echoing his own, Dirk forgot about his pain, his problems.
And he forgot about that awful ring that always sat heavily on his finger, and about those ruined photos buried at the bottom of the river.
Nothing else mattered but the meeting of their bodies.
Shifting the angle of his thrusts, Dirk entered Ken again. Judging by Ken’s gasp, he’d hit a sweet spot. Aiming for the spot repeatedly, Dirk reached for Ken’s prick at the same time.
Gliding his fist up and down, Dirk timed his thrusts in tune to his hand movements as the pressure inside him built. Ken raked his fingernails across his back muscles, perhaps even drawing blood, but the slight pain only turned Dirk on. What a wild sexy little thing he had under him.
Fuck. Dirk couldn’t wait to have Ken all over again. It didn’t occur to him that there might not be a next time when it was all too easy to imagine being inside Ken every night and the first thing every morning.
“I won’t last long,” Ken confessed.
His mouth was slightly parted. Too tempting for Dirk not to take Ken’s lips and thrust his tongue down the man’s throat. He pushed deeply into Ken. Tearing his mouth from Dirk’s, Ken let out a cry and exploded, seed spilling over Dirk’s hand, leaving splatters on Dirk’s torso.
Not far behind, Dirk pushed into Ken several times before exploding into the condom. Every muscle in his body unknotted. Collapsing on top of Ken, Dirk closed his eyes. Feeling Ken’s lips on his eyelids a second later, he opened them, wondering when the hell this strange dream would end.
“We should do that again. Soon,” Ken said, running fingers through Dirk’s sweat-soaked hair.
“That’s a promise,” Dirk rasped, rolling off Ken before he crushed him. Staring at the white ceiling, Dirk decided he didn’t want this night to end. Reckless, nervous, yet excited, like he ran on drugs, he reached for Ken’s fingers. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Ken turned onto his side, placing a hand on his chin, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Where do you want to go?”
“Let’s continue this at my place. Have dinner first.”
Dirk didn’t know who the fuck took over his body. The old him would’ve never had the courage to ask out another man, especially a sexy stranger like Ken, so casually, like it was the simplest thing in the world. Seconds passed. Dirk mentally stilled himself for rejection, but Ken gave his huge fingers a squeeze.
“Dinner sounds awesome. I’m starving.”
The next thing Dirk knew, he’d disposed of the condom in a nearby trashcan, they cleaned themselves up, and started putting on their clothes.
“I’ve got to confess,” Ken began, leading the way out.
Despite the turns and twists of the corridors, Dirk felt more certain of himself now, confident after so many weeks of second-guessing himself. Heck, he felt amazing, still a little surreal. They passed more strippers and private clients on the way out. Ken shut the exit door behind him. The night air blasted their faces.
“You were saying? Confess what?” Dirk asked.
“I thought after the dance, we’d say our goodbyes and part ways.”
“What gave you that impression?”
Part of him wondered how they’d gone from being strangers to being comfortable around each other as if they’d known each other for years. Then again, it had been one hell of a strange day. At the very least, he managed to learn something positive from this experience. Warren’s betrayal didn’t ruin him completely. He could still have fun, be normal. Move on.
They walked out of the alleyway and along streets with familiar names, passed landmarks Dirk couldn’t for the life of him remember seeing at night. How long since he’d last gone out on a date? Keeping busy seemed like the best solution after Warren had moved out. Most nights, Dirk wasted away at the office. No doubt he was close to earning a promotion, but what was the point of savings if he had nothing to spend it on?
“When you told me your story, I became insanely jealous,” Ken finally answered.
“Jealous?” Dirk asked, confused.
“For once in my life, I want to experience something like that, to have someone who loves me that much, that my absence could cause so much pain.” Ken looked into the distance. “Then again, if Warren and I changed places, it would be a completely different story.”
A pang of guilt shot through Dirk. “What happened between us back at the club—" he faltered, unsure of what to say.
“You needed me and I felt the same,” Ken finished, rubbing his fingers together.
By reflex, Dirk reached for them, surprised to find them cold. He blew at them, wondering why Ken’s face turned a shade of pink when the man never showed any indication of being shy before. Something had changed between them, Dirk knew it. But exactly what, Dirk didn’t know.
“Dirk, why did you ask me back to your apartment? Is it just because the sex was amazing or something else?” For once, Ken sounded sober, serious almost, as if Dirk’s answer mattered.
Dirk blew out a breath. “I wish I had the answer. All I knew was I didn’t want this night to end. If this is a dream, I’m going to milk every moment of it.”
To Dirk’s surprise, Ken linked their fingers together. Warmth suffused him, traveled up his arm and right to his chest until it hurt to breathe. What was this feeling?
“You keep calling me a dream. I’m not sure if I should be insulted or happy,” Ken remarked.
“How can I not? Nothing about today has made any sense. What you did, approached a stranger out of the blue … this stuff only happens in romance books.”
Ken raised an eyebrow. “So tell me, honey bear, what happens in the end?”
“It veers off into fantasy. Real life hurts,” Dirk mumbled, suddenly aware of the wedding ring in his pocket. A useless piece of metal with no sentimental value—that was all it was. “Thank you, though. I won’t forget tonight.”
“Neither will I. But you’re forgetting something, honey bear.” Ken tapped at Dirk’s wristwatch. “It’s only midnight. The night’s young.”
Chapter Seven
Darkness greeted Dirk behind his closed lids. He drew in a sharp breath, refusing to wake up even though he heard his alarm go off half an hour ago. Time to go to work, face the music of his monotonous and sad little life, but he refused to get up. Dirk wanted to chase after that dream again, so vivid and painful in his head.
Curling onto his side, Dirk reached for his spare pillow. Luther had always made fun of him for having too many pillows. Dirk couldn’t tell his best friend the pillows distracted him from the empty space on the other side of the bed, where Warren used to sleep.
Strip Me Page 4