Nicol moved more slowly, more shyly, setting each garment aside with care, though to his credit, he kept going till he was fully naked. And God, what a sight he was without his clothes. His body was broad and rangy—he was a well-made man, despite being on the thin side.
Though his hair was fairer than Lindsay’s—at least when Lindsay’s was unpowdered—his skin tone was a shade or two darker and he was far more hirsute too, his lean chest furred with light brown hair that narrowed as it ran down his belly before flaring again round his cock.
“You look like a Viking,” Lindsay murmured, when Nicol loosened his hair and the strands tumbled about his face. “So tall and strong and fair.”
Nicol flushed. “You look like a—” He broke off, flushing deeper
“What?” Lindsay said. Suddenly he was horribly conscious of his powdered hair and made-up face. Christ, he could pass for a whore.
Nicol swallowed. “Like a—like a prince or something.” He shrugged, plainly embarrassed, and looked away. Lindsay found himself half-frowning, half-smiling in response.
“A prince?” he said slowly.
A combative expression crossed Nicol’s face and Lindsay realised he thought he was being mocked.
“It’s not so surprising,” he said tightly. “You obviously spend a king’s ransom on your clothes.”
Lindsay smiled and stepped towards him, closing the gap between them. “I’m not teasing you,” he said, his voice low now. “Just surprised. I didn’t think you liked my clothes.”
Drew swallowed visibly. “When did I say that?”
“You didn’t,” Lindsay whispered. “I just sensed you disapproved of my attire.” Mere inches separated them now. Lindsay felt the pull of Nicol’s body as surely as if he were being roped in.
“Well, I suppose I do disapprove,” Nicol breathed, his eyes on Lindsay’s mouth. “But that doesn’t stop you looking like a prince.”
Lindsay laughed softly. “Ah now, Mr. Nicol. Is that a compliment, or not? I find I’m really not sure.”
Nicol raised his hand and touched the mouth he’d been staring at, his fingertips tracing Lindsay’s lips. “Call me Drew,” he murmured.
“Drew then,” Lindsay repeated obediently, his lips shifting under Drew’s fingers. “What do you want, Drew?”
Drew gazed at him helplessly.
“How about a kiss?” Lindsay offered. “You seem to like my mouth.”
Drew’s flush deepened. “I’m not sure.”
Lindsay raised an amused brow. “What then?”
“Let’s lie down.”
That sounded promising at least.
“All right.” Lindsay strolled to the bed, pulling back the covers to expose white sheets before laying down on the mattress and shifting his body to one side. When Nicol didn’t move, he added with a smile, “Aren’t you going to join me?”
Drew’s answering laugh was uncomfortable but, somewhat to Lindsay’s surprise, he did as suggested, first lowering himself onto the mattress then slowly, stiffly, unbending his long, rangy body till he lay parallel to Lindsay. Close, but not yet touching and deliciously naked.
His tantalising scent was stronger without his clothes, the faint notes of stone and metal teasing at Lindsay. The scent of something strong and elemental and unchanging.
“Can I touch you?” Lindsay whispered.
Drew nodded, then threw his arm over his face, as though to blot out the reality of what he was doing. Blinding himself to what was happening, even as he allowed it to occur.
Tentatively, Lindsay reached out to stroke his hand over Drew’s chest, his fingertips catching sweetly on pink nipples peaked tight from the coldness of the room—or perhaps from desire. With each caress, Drew groaned softly, trembling under Lindsay’s touch, and Lindsay’s gut clenched tighter with building desire. He twisted up from the mattress, leaning on one elbow to gaze down at Drew, as he explored the lean planes of the man’s body with his free hand.
It wasn’t enough. Not nearly.
Levering himself up, Lindsay swung one leg over Drew’s hips to straddle him fully, making the man twist and shudder, his scent sharpening and shifting. But it was the velvet drag of Lindsay’s balls over Drew’s hard shaft that had him crying out and—finally—moving his arm from his face.
