I blinked.“Does that mean something different in British?”
“No, er, he’s an actual clown.Sol Demetrio, he’s touring with Cirque de Lune.I think they’re in Spain this time of year.”Armand cleared his throat.“We don’t speak much.”
Damn, I had to go and make him talk about his estranged father.“Is he a mime?”
It worked.Armand chuckled, low and warm, though it raised in pitch as I took another step closer, holding eye contact as I unclasped my shirt.Our knees were touching.High on the way he was looking up at me—eyes dilated, full lips parted and begging to be kissed, something almost worshipful in his gaze—I decided that if I was already standing on a cliff, I might as well jump.
“No touch,” I breathed, letting my button-up fall before straddling him.
“Oh god—”
I kept my weight on my knees, even though my skin was tingling and I wanted to sink fully onto his lap.It was equally tempting to touch him—his face was mere inches away, all hot and bothered and handsome, and damn I was in big trouble.
Armand whined, his hands twitching at his sides like he wanted to reach for me.He slipped them under his thighs.“Lucas ...”
“Sh.We’re still in the interview.”I kept my focus on his face and the job at hand instead of the all-too-familiar imposter syndrome creeping in.It was a little mean, but I dipped my lips closer, a breath away.“Who was your first kiss?”
“Mm.”Armand was practically vibrating where he sat.“My friend Florabelle.Behind the community center after dance club.I was eleven.”He wet his lips.“Maybe twelve.”
I leaned back, enough to pull off my undershirt, leaving my full chest exposed.
“Lucas.”Armand was struggling not to free his hands.“Bloody hell—”
“Professionalism, Mr.Demetrio,” I managed a playful chide as my face flushed at his rapt attention.It wasn’t the first time he’d seen me undressed, but it was the first time I’d gone so slow with it.There was no heat-of-the-moment frenzy to provide safety.The light was on and there was nowhere to hide.“So, when you were eleven maybe twelve, were you already coming up with weird comic ideas?”I braced both hands on the top of the couch, bracketing Armand’s head.“WasSurrogate Goosealready percolating in that cute little noggin?”
He let out a strangled noise that was half broken growl, half moan.“Lucas, if you don’t let me touch you, I’m going to do something very embarrassing.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”He’d given enough real answers for me to sprinkle through a handful of posts; add to that some of the sightseeing photos I took, and I’d be set for the next few days’ worth of work.I reached for his wrists, pulling his hands free from beneath his thighs and guiding them to rest on my still-unfortunately-clothed knees.“Will you do the honors this time?”
He wasted no time undoing my zipper, fingers fluttering dangerously close to the love handles I couldn’t seem to get rid of no matter how hard I tried.He was, however, still fully clothed, which was unacceptable.I got to my feet long enough to tug my pants and underwear to the floor, meeting his heated gaze.“Now you.”
He rid himself of his layers at record speed.Every inch of my skin tingled, desperate for him to touch me, but I hadn’t yet returned to his lap.I wanted to see how long I could keep up the no-touching bit.“Can I try something?”I worked overtime to keep my voice steady.
Before I’d finished my question, he was nodding.“Anything.Anything you want.”He was flushed pink everywhere, chest rising and falling heavily, and I couldn’t help but drop my gaze to where he was thick and straining with want.
I licked my lips.“Lay back on the couch.Hands up on the armrest.”I waited until he’d almost instantly complied, staring up at me in delicious anticipation, to repeat, “No touch.”Carefully, I straddled him.Armand let out a soft moan, the armrests creaking where he gripped them.
“This okay?”I was fairly confident it was, but I wanted to make sure before proceeding.Armand already looked debauched and I’d barely touched him—his dark locks splayed out over the armrest he leaned against, ethereal in a way that made me lose my breath.
He swallowed, his eyes wide and dark and burning.“’S more than okay,” he breathed.
“Good.”I let my lips brush his collarbone, feeling each and every shiver that ran through him, his muscles jumping as I flicked my tongue over a hardened nipple.He writhed against the cushions, keening and arching upward as I traversed lower and lower, my lips dancing at his hip bone.“I know it’ll be difficult,” I managed, my mouth already watering, wanting to taste him, “but I want you to keep your hands up there or I’ll stop.”I was aching for his touch, but the sight of him like this—open and trusting and so visibly turned on—was too good to pass up.
He whined, biting his lip.“Y-yes, Lucas, please—”
I took him into my mouth a little at a time—not because I needed to work up to it, I’d had plenty of experience being on the giving end before, but because I wanted to relish every second of Armand coming undone.His broken little noises, the way his head snapped back against the armrest when I’d taken him to the hilt, his heels scrambling for purchase against the couch cushion as I let my fingers come into play.
His knuckles had gone white beside his head, and except for the occasional twitch, he didn’t reach down to grab my hair.The thought of him doing so filled me with such molten desire I couldn’t help but take myself in my other hand, stroking myself and Armand in tandem.
He was hot and slick in my throat, and as my thumb teased the entrance between his cheeks I knew he wouldn’t last much longer.Desperate for release, I freed him with a filthy-soundingpopand raised myself up to grind both our lengths together, gasping at Armand rocking against me with abandon.
He crashed over the edge as I captured his mouth with mine, and I followed right behind.
We lay collapsed for a long time, relearning how to breathe.
“Well,” I finally said, voice low and rough, “good interview.I think we can leave out this part, though.”
Armand let out a breathy chuckle, turning his head to capture my lips, humming into my mouth and sending my heart fluttering up through my throat.There were still so many layers to him, so much of his life I hadn’t yet uncovered, but this felt like progress.Like maybe Armand would let me in, sharing everything with me the way I wanted, the way I had with him.
