Page 43 of Home Grown Talent
Mason’s dick was grinding against his pecs now, the driving movements getting more frantic as Owen relentlessly worked at his hole. When Owen pressed his tongue inside, Mason howled around his cock and began to buck wildly. It was messy and chaotic and incredibly hot. Moments later, Mason’s whole body tensed up, and he began to shoot, his warm spunk striping Owen’s chest.
“Oh, fuck,” Mason gasped, finally stilling. “Fucking hell.”
Owen gave a helpless laugh at the sheer astonishment in Mason’s voice. “Good?” he asked.
Mason turned his head to look over his shoulder. He was smiling dopily, his hair flopping in his eyes. “Insanely good.” He sighed happily, then added, “Let me take care of you now. Lie back.”
So Owen did. He let his head fall to the mattress with a soft thud, his eyelids closing as Mason’s mouth engulfed his cock again. It didn’t even take a minute. He came in a rolling, exuberant burst of pleasure, back arching, so much come flooding Mason’s mouth that Mason spluttered, then laughed, then coughed.
“Sorry,” he gasped when he’d recovered, manoeuvring himself around till they were lying side by side. “That was very un-smooth.”
Owen stretched out a hand and tenderly brushed the long strands of Mason’s floppy fringe out of his eyes. “Was it?” he asked, smiling. “I don’t mind. I quite liked you choking on my spunk.”
Mason’s eyes widened, and he laughed again, an abrupt, shocked sound. “You are… very surprising, do you know that?”
“Am I?” Owen replied, tugging Mason closer so that his head rested on Owen’s shoulder.
“Yeah,” Mason said, lifting his chin to meet Owen’s eyes. “You’re so sweet in everyday life that I was kind of expecting you to be all—I don’t know—romantic in bed.”
Owen lifted a brow. “Did you think that because I’m not into one-night stands, I’d want to scatter the mattress with rose petals and make sweet, beautiful love to you?”
Mason snorted. “To be honest, that is closer to what I was expecting.”
Owen kissed his forehead. “I can be romantic,” he said. “I can do rose petals if you want.”
“Yeah, no. Not really my thing,” Mason said, nuzzling into his shoulder. “I think I’ll take the rimming and the spanking if it’s all the same to you. We can save the romantic stuff for when we’re cuddling on the couch. Or on a date in publ—” He stopped abruptly, as though he’d just realised what he was saying. Quickly, he added, “Sorry, I shouldn’t assume that…”
“Hey,” Owen said softly, urging his chin up again. Mason let him do it, but his gaze was wary.
“I want to go on a date with you,” Owen said. “And I really want to cuddle on the couch.”
“Okay,” Mason said with a wobbly smile. “In which case there’s no time like the present.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Mason
As so often happened after mind-blowing sex, Mason felt a little … tender, a little at sea as he padded back into the kitchen. He’d cleaned up and dressed, leaving Owen to use the bathroom while Mason went to serve pudding, but the sight of their empty plates still sitting on the kitchen table felt oddly jarring, as if he was waking from a particularly delicious dream.
Only that had been no dream; his body was still alive with pleasure, humming with it, his limbs honeyed and relaxed.
Christ, Owen was…not what he’d been expecting.
And, he guessed, why not? Why couldn’t you be an all-round nice guy, kind and easy-going, and also scorching in bed? Just because Mason had never met that particular unicorn before didn’t mean they didn’t exist…
Misty will be pleased.
The thought intruded unpleasantly. It was true, though. She’d be over the moon if she knew how far he’d managed to ‘push it’ with Owen. This was exactly what she’d wanted to happen. Or, at least, exactly what she wanted viewers to want to happen. And no doubt tonight would make Owen’s response to Mason’s flirting all the more authentic—Misty’s favourite word—whether that was on-screen, out in public, or online.
He chewed on his bottom lip as he set the coffee maker going and started plating up their dessert: slices of tarte au citron, creme anglaise, and a few mixed berries.
When he’d told Owen that he didn’t consider this to be a one-night stand, he’d been telling the truth. A one-night stand wasn’t what he wanted. So how come he felt kind of… dishonest?
Careful, I might think you were planning a seduction…
Well, yeah. Nothing wrong with planning a seduction, was there? Not if they both wanted it. It wasn’t as if Mason faked anything. He hadn’t needed to because he really was into Owen, and the sex had been… Christ, it had been off the charts good. For both of them.
Still, he should probably talk to Owen about the public aspect of their relationship. Owen wouldn’t have a clue about what Misty would expect of them. Mason should at least give him a heads up, help him leverage the attention to promote his business. Yet he felt curiously reluctant to mention it, as if doing so would puncture the intimacy of the evening.