“Deviant?”
“In for a penny, in for a spanking,” Cal said. He pressed the backof his hand to his forehead and heaved a fluttery sigh. “Oh no, sir. I’m a good man. What of my reputation?”
Joe snorted as he stood up. The dull ache of lust clenched in his balls, a sharp, immediate need that shouldered the mess of everything else aside. He didn’t need to think about it. All he needed to do was grab both ends of Cal’s wrinkled tie and twist.
“A good man?” he asked as he pulledon the makeshift leash.
For a moment Cal didn’t shift, his jaw set as he leaned back against the twisted collar. Then he gave in and took a step forward. Joe had the edge on him in height, if only by an inch or so, and Cal had to tilt his head back to look at him.
“Good enough,” Cal said. He brushed his hand over Joe’s crotch in a quick taunt of a caress that pinched pleasure deep in Joe’s balls.His hand drifted up to Joe’s hip, and he twisted the waistband of the loose black sweats around his fingers. “Good enough at some things.”
Joe kissed him. He wanted, for a second, to take his time, to explore Cal thoroughly and to coax something like a plea from that smart mouth. But that wasn’t what this was about—there was accepted practice for nearly anonymous hookups, the same as there wasfor anything else—and Joe didn’t have the patience for it anyhow.
He bit Cal’s soft, ripe lower lip and then slid it from between his teeth. “I guess I should take you for a test drive, then,” he said as he stepped back. The tie slipped from between his fingers, the wrinkles set with sweat now. “See if your ‘good enough’ will… satisfy.”
Amusement played over Cal’s face. “You wanna kick the tires?”
“I want to fuck you,” Joe said bluntly. The words felt rough in his mouth and as salty-sour as sex. “Finish taking that shirt off. Leave the tie.”
Cal considered that for a second, his eyes hooded and amused. Then he did as he was told. Ink was scrawled over his broad shoulders and down his upper arms in bold, black lines. There was no theme or style to them. An elegant raven, shadow etched insoft gray, shared his bicep with a messy-edged tribal dragon. A rose bloomed in heavy red on his ribs, the only piece of color on his skin, and the edges of the petals scuffed down to pink where it curled over his ribs.
It worked like graffiti on a beautiful building—the rough edges of it drew attention to the lean muscle and long bones underneath.
“Custom paint job,” Joe said. “I like it.”
Cal smirked and grabbed his cock through his trousers. The gray fabric outlined the heft of it, half-risen to the occasion. “You should see what’s down here.”
“That’s the plan.”
Cal’s eyes tracked appreciatively down the hard line of Joe’s stomach to the obvious line of his erection under his sweats. He dabbed a damp line with his tongue over his lower lip, and he flexed his fingers lazily aroundhis cock. “You first,” he said.
Something dark and hot twisted low in Joe’s stomach. He wasn’t sure if he felt smug at Cal’s obvious interest or thrown by the shift in the balance of power. Joe was—even if not on his own merits—a wealthy man. He didn’ttryto be a dick about it, but the weight of all that money had its own gravitational field.
“See, I’m supposed to be the one taking advantageof you,” he said as he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his sweats.
Cal shrugged and watched, his eyes hooded with lust, as Joe slid the black cotton over his hips and down his thighs. His cock stood proud from between his thighs, the skin taut around the thick jut of his shaft. He wrapped his hand around it and passed his thumb over the head. Slick precome smeared under his fingers.
Was he really going to do this, he wondered with a flash of something almost panic. It scraped the back of his throat as he took a deep breath. No excuses this time. No Kristen to pretend she didn’t knowsomethingas she took him back to her straight, white-linen bed. No Edward to discreetly not notice anything as he waited in the car.
Hell, it was the first time since he was fifteen that he’dfucked someone whose name he was 100 percent on.
Some sober little part of his brain—sober or scared—dug its heels in. It was an awful idea, and it wasn’t too late for second thoughts. Joe decided he didn’t care… not enough, anyhow.
“Who’s the rose for?” he asked.
Cal looked surprised for a second. He reached over and rubbed his ribs were the ink splashed. “It’s… I wanted to feel pretty,” hesaid, the brief stammer covered with a smirk.
It turned out Cal wasn’t a good liar. Joe let it go. It was hardly important to the next half hour.
“Your turn,” he said as he glanced pointedly down at Cal’s trousers. “Unless you’ve changed your mind?”
Cal chuckled with a low, dark sound in the back of his throat as he unbuckled his belt. “I don’t really do second thoughts,” he said. “Ask my brother.Half the time I don’t even think about it once.”
He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his trousers and pushed them down over his hip bones. The striptease had been Joe’s idea, but he didn’t want to wait anymore. He stepped forward and pulled Cal into a rough, eager kiss.
No second thoughts for either of them, then.
He bruised the kiss onto Cal’s lips with sharp teeth and eager mouth asthey stumbled backward a step. Cal grabbed a handful of Joe’s ass and squeezed the tight curve of muscle. He dragged Joe closer, until Joe’s cock rubbed against Cal’s hip, the gray fabric of the trousers rough against tender skin. It made Joe squirm with the hunger for more contact. He thrust roughly against Cal, and his cock rubbed against fabric again and then slid over the waistband to brushagainst tight, warm skin. He groaned into Cal’s mouth, over the slick muscle of his tongue, and ran his hand down Cal’s broad back. He traced over the heavy bands of clenched muscle to the vulnerable dip of Cal’s spine.
