Page 41 of Leather and Longing (Island Tales #3)

Chapter Thirty-One

Adam hadn’t enjoyed himself like this for a long while.

It didn’t matter he probably had flour all over him.

The process of getting to the part where Paul poured the cake batter into the tins had been really pleasant.

It brought back happy memories of watching his mother making the Christmas cake, stealing a glacé cherry or two when she wasn’t looking, except somehow she always knew he’d done it.

The rich smell of brown sugar, spices and fruit that pervaded the whole house.

Watching her trickle brandy over it for a month, letting it soak into the cake.

“Okay, the tins are in the oven. They’ll take about thirty minutes, and in the meantime, we get to the good part.” Paul’s words broke through his reminiscences.

As far as Adam was concerned, it had all been good.

“What’s that?” he asked.

Paul placed a spatula into his hand. “The lickings.” He chuckled.

Adam laughed. “ Now you’re talking.” He licked over the flat edge, humming with satisfaction. The taste plunged him right back into his childhood, of wrestling with his father to win the prize of the mixing bowl when all the batter had been scraped from it.

Well, nearly all.

“Hey, save some for me,” Paul griped.

Adam held onto the spatula with a tight grip. “You want some of this? I’ll give you this spatula when you can prise it from my cold, sticky fingers.”

Paul guffawed. “Like that, is it?” Adam heard him move closer, and took a careful step back.

“Possession is nine-tenths,” he declared, his arm stretched out, hopefully holding it out of Paul’s reach.

“Ooh, you’re on dangerous ground,” Paul crowed.

“Especially if you want to eat any of this cake when it’s ready.

” He snickered. “Chocolate icing, cream, rich chocolate sponge…” The words dripped coaxingly from his tongue, and for one fleeting second Adam was reminded of the child catcher from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang .

Damn it.

If there was one thing Adam had a weakness for, it was chocolate.

He expelled a reluctant sigh and held out the spatula. “Here. Take it.”

Paul let out a giggle. “We can share it, y’know.” The spatula shifted in Adam’s hand. “Okay, I’ve had enough. You can have it. It is your birthday, after all.”

“Yeah, I was wondering when you’d remember that.” Adam gave a mock huff and went back to sliding his tongue over the smooth silicone, licking up every trace of batter.

Paul laughed. “You lick, I’ll clean up.”

Adam was more than happy with that arrangement.

He sat at the table with his prize, listening to Paul bustle around the kitchen, washing the bowls and implements, wiping down surfaces. “Did your mother teach you to bake?” he asked between licks.

Paul barked out a laugh. “God, no. Mum can’t bake to save her life. I learned all this at school. How about you?”

“My mother taught me when I was about ten. It was just me and my parents by then: Caroline had married, left home and was expecting Dean.” He smiled.

Happy days.

“You haven’t said much about your parents.” The scrape of a chair as Paul sat down.

“That would be because they’re dead,” Adam explained simply.

“My mother died following lung cancer when she was sixty-nine. I was thirty-one at the time. My father didn’t last long after that, barely a month before he joined her.

” He gave Paul what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

“It’s okay. It’s nice to talk about them.

I had a great childhood.” That didn’t mean he didn’t feel a brief pang: Dad would have been eighty that year.

He pushed the thought aside and sniffed the air. “That smells good.”

Paul got up and moved away from the table. The rich aroma grew stronger when the oven door was opened. A moment later, it was more intense.

“Keep your hands off,” Paul told him. “The trays are bloody hot.”

Adam nodded. He held out the now clean spatula. “You want this?”

Paul took it from his grasp. “Wow. You’d never know there’d been cake mixture on this thing. It’s pristine.” A plop followed when the spatula was dropped into the sink.

“Paul?”

“Yeah?”

“In case I forget to say something later, this has been a great birthday so far. Thank you.” Adam hoped Paul could hear the sincerity of his words. He meant them with all his heart.

There was a pause, followed by Paul clearing his throat. “I’m glad. It’s been fun doing this. We should try cooking together sometime. And I mean something bigger than breakfast.”

Adam really liked that idea.

“Come on, where’s my cake?” Adam demanded, picking up his cake fork and drumming it on the kitchen table. The steak had been delicious, a total surprise, along with the steamed asparagus fresh from the Garlic Farm, green beans and sautéed mushrooms.

Paul laughed. “You’ve only just finished eating your dinner. Patience. Let me clear the dishes out of the way first.”

“I still want to know why you took so long putting the cake together,” Adam grumbled. “I mean, how long does it take to sandwich two rounds with cream and cover it with icing?” Paul had disappeared during the afternoon and had shut the kitchen door.

Adam had been burning to know what he’d been up to.

“It was a bit more complicated than that.”

Something in Paul’s voice registered.

Adam folded his arms across his chest. “Okay. What have you done?”

A dull clunk of a plate being placed on the table. “Happy birthday.” Paul snickered. “You need to touch it.”

“Touch it?” Adam echoed. “Why would I want to do that?”

“Because I chose its shape especially for you.” More snickers.

“What about the icing?” Adam didn’t want to ruin it by trailing his fingers through sticky topping.

“It’s more of a chocolate glaze than icing,” Paul told him. “It’s made from melted chocolate, but it’s been in the fridge so it’s firm to the touch. It’s about a foot in front of you.”

“Where, here?” Adam reached for it, his hand landing rather heavily—right on the cake, which was closer than he’d thought. “Oh fuck.”

It didn’t matter what the shape had been. Right then there was a smooshed mess, and part of it seemed to have broken off.

What the fuck have I done? His face burned with embarrassment, his muscles tensed. How could I have done something so stupid?

“Paul, I?—”

Paul was laughing. The little shit was laughing at him.

“You think this is funny?” he said through gritted teeth.

His words appeared to have a sobering effect on Paul, who hiccupped, his laughter not entirely dying out. “You knocked one of its balls off,” he said, still giggling.

Balls ?

“What?”

Paul’s fingers wrapped around his wrist and pulled his hand gently until Adam’s fingers touched the cake. He explored its shape until?—

Oh my God.

“You shaped it like a cock.” What lay beneath his fingers was unmistakably the head of a cut dick. A rather large dick, covered in chocolate.

“Uh huh,” Paul said, “and you just castrated it.” Another smothered giggle. He took a deep breath as if to regain his composure. “It’s okay, really. It’ll still taste good.”

“You didn’t have to laugh that much,” he grumbled.

Paul spluttered. “But it was funny. Anyone could have done it, and I’d still be trying hard not to wet myself from laughing.”

Adam growled. “You know what? Fuck you.” He flexed his cake-covered hand and leaned forward. “You know what would be funny, though?”

“What?” Paul let out another hiccup.

Adam raised his hand. “This, in your face.”

A moment of silence. “You sure you wanna do that?” Paul’s voice was softer, closer, yet more laughter bubbling just below the surface.

Adam caught the unspoken challenge and grinned.

Play time.

“I’m sure.” He followed the sound of Paul’s voice and with slow deliberation smeared his sticky, cake-coated hand all over Paul’s face.

More silence. Adam tensed, awaiting retaliation.

“Two can play at that game, y’know.”

It was Adam’s turn to chuckle. “You think you’ve got the balls?”

Paul guffawed. “As a matter of fact, I do.” Seconds later Adam had a face full of chocolate dick cake.

He ran his tongue over his lips. “Hmm, nice. Tastes good.”

Paul snickered. “It would taste even better from a fork.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Adam felt along the length of the cake and grabbed its remaining intact testicle. He lifted it to his mouth and took a large bite out of the chocolate sponge. It tasted sinfully rich and wickedly delicious. Adam held out his hand to Paul. “Want some?”

“Don’t mind if I do.” The words were almost a purr.

Adam caught his breath when a hot, wet mouth sucked on his finger, taking him deep.

Fuck . Even better. Foreplay.

He stifled a groan when Paul rolled his tongue around his finger, sucking harder. Another finger was given the same erotic treatment. Adam’s dick began to fill. Paul was really getting into his cleaning routine, a low moan escaping from his lips while he let Adam fuck his mouth with his finger.

God, Adam loved that mouth.

He pulled free, not missing Paul’s mewl of disappointment.

“I have something much better than that for you.” With one hand he undid the waistband of his jeans, lowered the zip and freed his stiffening cock.

With the other he scooped some of the cream filling onto his finger and transferred it to the head of his dick.

Paul’s breathing hitched. There was the rapid scrape of a chair across the floor, the table shifted and oh my fucking God, Paul was under it, his hot tongue slowly licking off the gooey mess. Adam sagged into the chair, his cock jerking, legs spreading to give Paul room.

“God, your dick tastes good,” Paul groaned before licking it once more, his tongue teasing the slit.

Adam shifted, pushing with his hips, wanting more. Paul’s hot breath on his cock, sticky fingers around his shaft…

Everything ground to a halt when Paul slowly and carefully pulled up the zipper of Adam’s jeans. His dick poked above the waistband, hard and hot.

Adam growled. “Don’t stop now.”

A moment later Paul was out from under the table.

“I’m stopping,” he said, breathlessly, “because I’d rather do this A, without the food element, B, somewhere comfortable where there’s no danger of me banging my head if I get a little… enthusiastic and C, where there’s a supply of condoms and lube ready for when you decide we’re gonna fuck.”

He had a point. Several good points, in fact.

Adam grinned like an idiot again. This was shaping up to be a great birthday.