Page 17 of Leather and Longing (Island Tales #3)

Chapter Thirteen

Paul fumbled with the front door, his fingers refusing to work properly. Of course, it would have been easier if he could see the damn keyhole.

God, I must be drunk. There’s a flashlight on my phone.

He dug into the pocket of his shorts and pressed buttons, making the phone pulse as it came to life in his hands.

Once the torch was at its brightest level, he aimed the key at the hole, squinting as he tried not to miss it.

He pushed too hard and the door flung open, thankfully not hitting the wall but the rubber stopper set into it.

“Shh,” he whispered, his finger across his lips.

“Don’t wanna wake up Adam.” The house was in darkness, and he figured Adam had long since gone to bed.

The only light coming into the hallway was from the door behind him, and a chink of light through the drawn curtains in the library. He could almost taste the silence.

Silence that was shattered when his phone burst into life.

Paul’s fingers slipped as he tried to quell the ringtone. “Shh,” he whispered, the phone against his ear. “Too bloody loud.”

“Where did you get to?” Taylor’s voice nearly split his eardrum. He groaned when he realised the reason for this: he’d got the bloody thing on speaker phone.

He held it away from his head and spoke into the mic.

“Taylor, you’re on speaker, stop yellin’.

Lemme get outta the hall.” He stumbled into the library, feeling for the armchair closest to the door, and dropped himself into it.

He didn’t bother with the lights: they’d only hurt his eyes.

Not that he was that drunk, but he was definitely way past tipsy.

“There, that’s better, don’t wanna wake up the dinosaur, now, do we? ’Cause maybe this time he’ll really spank me.”

“The what? Dinosaur? What dinosaur? Spank you?” Taylor had lowered his voice, thank God, but his chuckle was still clearly audible. “What are you on about?”

“Yesterday. Adam threatened to spank me. Think it was him tryin’ to scare me off, y’know? Make me wanna leave?” He guffawed. “Well, he got more than he bargained for, only, it sorta backfired on me, too.”

“Okay, want to start at the beginning? And why would it backfire on you?”

Paul huffed out a sigh. “Uh-uh. Let’s talk about that bloke you tried to set me up with tonight. You didn’t really expect me to get off with him, did ya?” He toed off his trainers and kicked them across the room. Better make sure they’re out of Adam’s way before he gets up though.

“That’s why I’m calling. One minute you were talking with him, the next, I came back from the bathroom and you’d gone. What was wrong with him anyway?” In the background Paul could still hear music, the party not quite over yet. There was still the chatter of voices, mingled with laughter.

“It wasn’t that there was anything wrong with him,” Paul began, “he was just too young. Too nice.” And it wasn’t as if he hadn’t been interested in Paul: that hard-on was pretty difficult to miss. The only problem was, Paul had been as limp as fuck.

And the dick don’t lie, ladies and gents.

The quietness of the library only amplified Taylor’s incredulous snort. “Young? He was your age, you moron. And what do you mean, too nice?”

I could just shut up now. I could shut my fucking trap, say goodnight and go to bed.

Except he knew he wasn’t gonna do that.

“Look, don’t try to set me up with any more guys, okay? There… there are things you don’t know about me.” His heart was hammering, his breathing shallow.

He heard a door close and the noise dimmed. “That’s better,” Taylor said quietly. “Now I can hear you. So, these things I don’t know. Tell me. I thought we were friends.”

“We are , Taylor,” Paul said with a groan. “There’s a reason I haven’t had that many dates. I’m… I’m a kinky little shit and most of the guys I meet are too fuckin’ vanilla for my taste.”

There was a moment of silence, which only served to ramp up Paul’s nerves.

“Kinky?” Taylor giggled. “Are we talking, ‘ Tie me up, Daddy, I wanna be spanked ?’”

Paul couldn’t hold in his laughter. “Oh, you are so close to the mark.”

“Adam was really going to spank you?”

He pushed out a sigh. “It’s a long story.” He didn’t want to go into all that shit. It was too late, and he’d had way too much to drink.

“Or is it more the case that you want him to spank you?” Taylor’s voice was suffused with a definite hint of smugness.

Shit .

“Don’t even go there,” Paul ground out. “I still have a serious case of blue balls, and seeing as I epically failed to get off at your party—in spite of your best intentions,” he added when he caught Taylor’s swift intake of breath, “I’d better go and take care of it.”

Taylor laughed. “G’night, Paul. Go play with yourself.”

Paul gave a loud snort and disconnected the call.

He got out of the chair and groped around on the floor for his shoes.

Damn it, where the fuck are they? He giggled.

Maybe the dust bunnies had got them. The idea tickled him, and he was still chuckling when he found his way over to the wall to flick on the light switch.

Warm light bathed the library, making him screw his eyes up. What had his eyes opening wide was the sight of Adam stretched out naked on the couch, head propped up by cushions, a bottle of brandy between his thighs.

He was playing with a very heavy, full cock, his fingers lazily stroking the firm shaft.

Paul froze. “Oh, fuck me.”

Adam focused unseeing eyes in his direction, his lips twisted into a smirk. “After what I’ve just heard, that’s quite possible.”

It was amazing how quickly shock sobered the mind.

“How much have you had to drink?” It was a lame question, but better than voicing the first thing that came into Paul’s head.

God, yeah, want that.

“Don’t pull that shit on me, boy.” Adam hauled himself into an upright position, clutching the bottle.

“I heard every word.” He waved it in Paul’s direction.

“You know, you’ve got a filthy mouth.” He reached down to the floor for his cane that lay beside the couch and picked it up.

With his other hand he held onto the brandy.

Judging by the way he moved, Paul estimated he hadn’t drunk that much of it.

“Adam, I’m sor?—”

“Oh, I bet you are.” Adam used the cane to help him rise unsteadily to his feet, but when it slipped from his grasp, he started to fall forward, flinging the bottle onto the couch.

Oh fuck.

Paul darted over to catch him, but Adam’s weight proved too much, and the two of them ended up on the floor, Paul trapped beneath him. Adam’s head landed on his shoulder, and he turned, burying his head in Paul’s neck, his lips brushing over the skin.

“Fuck, you smell good,” he said in a throaty whisper.

Much as he wanted this—and God, did he—Paul wasn’t about to let Adam go any further, not when he wasn’t stone cold sober. He placed his hands on Adam’s chest and pushed up, trying to wriggle out from under him.

Adam let out a drunken growl and grabbed his wrists, shoving them over Paul’s head and pinning them to the floor. He hovered over Paul, his face scant inches away, the faint trace of brandy clinging to him. Paul could feel the heat pouring off Adam’s bare skin.

Adam ground against him. “Why’re you hard? You been thinking about me?”

Fuck it. Just go with it .

He could regret it in the morning when he was sober. When they both were. Right then there was the very real possibility he was about to get fucked, and his hole clenched at the prospect.

“Can you blame me?” he said, his voice uneven. “My employer’s fucking hot.”

Adam tightened his grip on Paul’s wrists. “I thought your employer was a dinosaur.” His voice, tinged with amusement, was equally breathless. He rotated his hips, grinding against Paul’s groin, before dropping his head to nuzzle into Paul’s neck.

God, he’s strong.

The feeling of being totally helpless, overpowered, dominated, was a heady one. Paul was almost dizzy with lust.

“As far as I know, dinosaurs didn’t come equipped like this.” He did his best to push up from the floor with his hips and meet Adam’s dick, the small thrust causing it to slide over his own. Adam slowly raised his head, his breath coming faster, those gauzy eyes seemingly looking right into his.

Oh, sod it.

Paul craned his neck and brought their lips together in a fervent kiss, his body straining with desire. When he stopped, Adam grimaced, clearly unhappy. He aimed for Paul’s mouth, connecting with the corner of it and then sliding to cover it with his, the kiss all teeth and tongue and heat.

Adam growled into Paul’s mouth and keeping one large hand at Paul’s wrists, he grabbed Paul’s chin and held him immobile.

“You are so gonna get fucked.” Before Paul could speak, his mouth was taken again in another scorching kiss, Adam’s tongue plunging deep, exploring him with a thoroughness that made Paul ache for more.

He lost himself in the passion, the anticipation, the feel of those hands holding him down.

He pushed a moan between Adam’s lips, his body on fire.

When Adam finally came up for air, Paul drew in long, shuddering breaths. He pulled against Adam’s grip, testing his restraints. Not that he had any desire to be released: the sensations that coursed through him were too fucking delicious.

He murmured against those full lips. “This wasn’t listed as one of the employee benefits.”

To his dismay Adam released his wrists and sat up, straddling Paul’s body.

His gaze focused on Paul’s face with uncanny precision.

Paul took a moment to enjoy the view: the rapid rise and fall of Adam’s chest, the heavy dick that curved upward, the equally heavy-looking balls resting on his own dick that pushed against his zipper.

“I don’t recall giving you permission to speak.”

Adam’s words dropped onto his skin, sending shivers rippling through him.

Fuck, that’s hot.

He let out a groan that came from somewhere deep inside, his own words the result of some instinct that pushed at him insistently.

“Sorry, Sir.”