Turning to Sam, he says, “I thought you were gone until three?”
“It’s three-thirty.”
Oops.
“We might have lost track of time a little,” I say, enjoying the hell out of Ro’s red cheeks.
Anja smiles broadly. “Such a delicious couple you are. We can go and come back if you like. I bet, properly motivated, you could go all night.”
“Anja, please stop embarrassing our guests,” Georg—Papa Bash—says, amusement playing out across his handsome, barely aging face.
I lean down, whispering into Ro’s ear, my voice rough and my cock already getting hard all over again. “I don’t care where we do this, but I’m not nearly done with you.”
Guess I wasn’t as quiet as I thought because Anja pipes up. “Oh, honey. We don’t mind if you keep going at it.”
Ro’s disgruntled little face is everything to me.
“Thanks, Anja,” I say, winking at her. “Unfortunately, I work bestwithoutan audience.”
“That’s a shame, sweetie.”
Georg shrugs. “Might take a little getting used to, but I wouldn’t dismiss it out of hand.”
Ronan is beet red, and the laughter I’ve been holding onto finally spills out as I rub my thumb over his flaming cheeks. Sam holds up a finger, clearly struck with a brilliant idea.
“Why don’t you use my setup out in the gym?”
“Your setup?”
“Yeah. I’ve got a really nice bed out there, just be careful around my equipment. I’ve got everything taped out, so you can move the camera stuff against the wall. Or use it, if you’d like. Won’t hurt my feelings.”
Ronan whispers a few more details in my ear, and the idea of making love to my man in what is essentially a porn studio…
“Yeah, we’ll take that option,” I say as I drag Ronan toward the front door.
“Babe, I need my bag,” he says, reaching out toward the room.
I stop and put my hands on my hips. “You have two minutes, or I’ll be throwing you over my shoulder and carrying you over there myself.”
Anja fans herself. “Ooh. So manly. Remember, darlings, take your time this round. And don’t forget to hydrate!”
As if on cue, Georg comes out with a big grin on his face, plus a couple of bottles of water, a bottle of wine, and a shopping bag’s worth of snacks.
Ro comes back with his bag, some slippers for himself, and a pair of flip flops for me.
He still looks mad as a wet hen, but he holds out his hand and I take it. We walk out the door to catcalls and well-wishes, and it’s the best thing ever.
Then I take my man to that little porn studio and edge him until he’s ready to commit actual murder. His undoing is a thing of beauty.
And if we spend all Sunday taking advantage of the professional lighting, my phone’s advance camera technology, and the Bashes’ willingness to leave sustenance at the door… Well, that’s no one’s business but our own.
Come Monday morning, we’re spent, walking funny, and being teased by our hosts. It’s well-deserved, but we don’t care. The lovin’ is just too good.
We do agree to give ourselves a little breathing room to process everything, but dropping Ro off at his condo sucks. I mean…he eases my considerable pain with a parking garage blowjob, but still. By the time I get home, I know that—if I have any say in the matter at all—it’ll be the last night we spend away from each other.
I get very little sleep, but then wake up to a text from my favorite guy.
Ronan:Ugh. Let’s never do that again.
