"Where would we? Like your whole family is in your granny's cottage."
"Well, you've got a whole castle don't you?"
"I do."
"Then let's go have a sword fight, Charming."
Chapter nine
Duncan
Lead the way, Charming
RhysReidissomethingelse. He's attractive but it's almost like he doesn't know it.
He's funny, but again, every time he drops a delightful line his eyes light up like it's a surprise to him.
And right now he's almost frozen in time. His beer is halfway to his lips, H-O-P-E taunting me from where his veiny hand grips his glass. W-I-L-D dances along his other hand as it sits in a fist on the table.
I want both words wrapped around my cock.
And I think he does too.
I watch the letters as he lowers his beer back to the table without taking a drink.
"Did you just ask me to have a sword fight?"
I shrug. "I did. I say we finish these pints, head up to your castle, take out our sticks, and show each other what we've got."
"You're talking about sex right?"
I bark out a laugh. Fuck he’s cute. It’s like he's clinging to innocence and it makes me want to push him even more. The minute he slid into his chair wearing his perfectly coordinated Canadian tuxedo I knew a distraction was needed.
"Aye," I lay on the accent as thick as I can. "Let's go back to your castle and fuck."
The air between us thickens.
My mouth waters.
His eyes dance across my face, then down, then back up. When his refreshing green irises meet mine again, I wink.
"Sure, yes, fuck it, okay, I want to, umm, yep, let's do it." Rhys mumbles more to the top of his glass than to me. He tosses back what's left and sets his glass down with an echoing thunk. I savor my final sips as he wipes his palms down his thighs.
"Lead the way Charming." My hand gestures for him to go first.
The walk to Bonn na Craic from Granny’s wasn’t bad and Del agreed to come get me if I got stood up. When I told her this wasn’t a date she laughed and patted my hand saying "whatever you need to tell yourself baby brother."
I follow Rhys out of the pub and across the street to a sleek forest green range rover. The car smells like a garden center, which I wasn’t expecting. And, oddly, the radio isn't on. I assumed he'd be the kind of guy to have music playing all the time. I mean, not that I have hockey highlights constantly going but I do have sports and comedy podcasts queued up and ready whenever.
Rhys is driving with one hand draped over the wheel, while his other hand fidgets with the top button of his shirt.
There is a mural of artwork on the fabric and I cannot wait to see it up close.
But his strong fingers, calloused from playing guitar, momentarily hypnotize me. When he shifts and runs his hand through his hair I blink out of it and reach for the radio volume. It's tuned to a local station andNothing Compares 2Urings through the speakers.
I start to hum along as we wind up the road to the estate.
Rhys’s chin tilts like he’s singing along–how can you not–but I can’t wait to make him sing with my hand around his cock.
