Adam groaned and reached down to palm his cock, his shaft already hard, his balls heavy.
Damn it, he missed sex. He missed the intimacy of it all. The smell of another man. The feeling of skin on skin. The sheer heaven of having another body pinned beneath him, of thrusting into a tight arse. The vaulting, exquisite bliss of orgasm. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d fucked someone.
Fuck. He hated this, hated the fact he was alone, and yet the last thing he wanted was the company of others. He couldn’t have it both ways, for God’s sake. Christ, it was enough to drive a man to drink.
The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. Fuck lying in bed, tormented by memories. What he really needed was a good stiff drink. Or three.
Fuck it. Where’s the bottle?
Chapter Thirteen
Paul fumbledwith the front door, his fingers refusing to work properly. Of course, it would have been easier if he could see the damn keyhole.
God, I must be drunk. There’s a flashlight on my phone.
He dug into the pocket of his shorts and pressed buttons, making the phone pulse as it came to life in his hands. Once the torch was at its brightest level, he aimed the key at the hole, squinting as he tried not to miss it. He pushed too hard and the door flung open, thankfully not hitting the wall but the rubber stopper set into it.
“Shh,” he whispered, his finger across his lips. “Don’t wanna wake up Adam.” The house was in darkness, and he figured Adam had long since gone to bed. The only light coming into the hallway was from the door behind him, and a chink of light through the drawn curtains in the library. He could almost taste the silence.
Silence that was shattered when his phone burst into life.
Paul’s fingers slipped as he tried to quell the ringtone. “Shh,” he whispered, the phone against his ear. “Too bloody loud.”
“Where did you get to?” Taylor’s voice nearly split his eardrum. He groaned when he realised the reason for this: he’d got the bloody thing on speaker phone.
He held it away from his head and spoke into the mic. “Taylor, you’re on speaker, stop yellin’. Lemme get outta the hall.” He stumbled into the library, feeling for the armchair closest to the door, and dropped himself into it. He didn’t bother with the lights: they’d only hurt his eyes. Not that he wasthatdrunk, but he was definitely way past tipsy.
“There, that’s better, don’t wanna wake up the dinosaur, now, do we? ’Cause maybe this time he’llreallyspank me.”
“The what? Dinosaur? What dinosaur? Spank you?” Taylor had lowered his voice, thank God, but his chuckle was still clearly audible. “What are you on about?”
“Yesterday. Adam threatened to spank me. Think it was him tryin’ to scare me off, y’know? Make me wanna leave?” He guffawed. “Well, he got more than he bargained for, only, it sorta backfired on me, too.”
“Okay, want to start at the beginning? And why would it backfire on you?”
Paul huffed out a sigh. “Uh-uh. Let’s talk about that bloke you tried to set me up with tonight. You didn’treallyexpect me to get off with him, did ya?” He toed off his trainers and kicked them across the room.Better make sure they’re out of Adam’s way before he gets up though.
“That’s why I’m calling. One minute you were talking with him, the next, I came back from the bathroom and you’d gone. What was wrong with him anyway?” In the background Paul could still hear music, the party not quite over yet. There was still the chatter of voices, mingled with laughter.
“It wasn’t that there was anythingwrongwith him,” Paul began, “he was just too young. Too nice.” And it wasn’t as if hehadn’t been interested in Paul: that hard-on was pretty difficult to miss. The only problem was, Paul had been as limp as fuck.
And the dick don’t lie, ladies and gents.
The quietness of the library only amplified Taylor’s incredulous snort. “Young? He wasyourage, you moron. And what do you mean, too nice?”
I could just shut up now. I could shut my fucking trap, say goodnight and go to bed.
Except he knew he wasn’t gonna do that.
“Look, don’t try to set me up with any more guys, okay? There… there are things you don’t know about me.” His heart was hammering, his breathing shallow.
He heard a door close and the noise dimmed. “That’s better,” Taylor said quietly. “Now I can hear you. So, these things I don’t know. Tell me. I thought we were friends.”
“Weare, Taylor,” Paul said with a groan. “There’s a reason I haven’t had that many dates. I’m… I’m a kinky little shit and most of the guys I meet are too fuckin’ vanilla for my taste.”
There was a moment of silence, which only served to ramp up Paul’s nerves.
“Kinky?” Taylor giggled. “Are we talking, ‘Tie me up, Daddy, I wanna be spanked?’”
