Stalking the Kilt

by Keely Jakes

  Dane reached for his wallet and pulled out what he hoped was enough cash to cover his half of breakfast as Sully returned to the table. When he tried to hand it to the man, Sully frowned as he shook his head. “Nae, laddie, this meal’s on me. Ye can pick up the next one.”

  Dane could not help himself. He started laughing. “I only wish I could,” he said as he returned the money to his wallet.

  Checking his phone, he saw there was still plenty of time before his flight. He just was not sure what to do with it. Though he would love nothing more than to drag Sully into the nearest room with a lock on the door, he did not want the man to think less of him for such slutty behavior. He was also sure the airport did not have a room available for them to use to get up close and personal for the next hour or so.

  “I guess it’s time to say goodbye,” Dane said as he slowly stood up.

  Sully blinked, studied him, and sighed. “If that’s what ye prefer. I was hopin’ ye’d be interested in ducking into the employees’ loo for a moment of privacy before we go our separate ways.”

  This time it was Dane who blinked in shock. Then he began to grin. “Really?”

  “Aye, laddie. I’m not done with ye quite yet. I need ta taste those lips, and whatever else we can do in the next fifteen minutes.”

  Dane looked around and found that the restaurant was still relatively empty of other diners. Taking a deep breath, he slung his briefcase over his shoulder and grabbed the handle of his suitcase. “All right. Let’s go.”

  Sully’s deep-throated chuckle had him grinning in response, a grin so big that his cheek muscles started cramping. But he could not stop. Dane followed the Scotsman across the restaurant and down the hall to the door marked “Employees Only”.

  Once both men, and Dane’s suitcase, were inside what turned out to be a good size room containing a sink and toilet on one side and tall shelves filled with cans and paper goods, Sully pounced. Dane barely had time to release the suitcase before he was swept into the bigger man’s arms. Two big, hard hands stroked down his spine to cup his rounded ass. In the next instant, Dane found himself airborne. He grabbed Sully’s shoulders to keep from tipping backwards. At the same time, his legs parted, lifted, and wrapped around the man’s hips.

  “Hi there,” he whispered against Sully’s lips. “Come here often?”

  “Not nearly often enough,” the man answered, his voice an octave deeper than it had been just moments before.

  In the next instant, Sully tilted his head closed the last inches between them, silencing anything further Dane had to say with a kiss.

  The kiss, like everything else about their encounter, was intense and perfect. Sully shifted his hold so one arm wrapped around Dane’s waist while the other cupped the back of his head. Sully then took command of the kiss, parting his lips, then tracing Dane’s with the tip of his tongue until Dane parted them and allowed him entrance.

  Between lips, tongue, and hands, Sully led a willing Dane down the path toward dark seduction. Dane didn’t care where they were, or who might be just outside the door listening to their animalistic grunts, groans, and moans. He tightened his arms and legs around this tall, solid tree of a man.

  He parted his lips further, their tongues dueling from one mouth to the other, exploring, tangling, tasting as their moans harmonized.

  Dane was shocked at the intensity that kept building between them, sending his nearly forgotten libido into a skyward spiral. His cock throbbed with each racing heartbeat. It was so hard that Dane was certain he could use it to drill holes in diamonds without a problem. Never before had he responded to a man as immediately, and strongly, as he was to Sully.

  He wasn’t sure if it was the man, his brogue, or the kilt that had him mere seconds from coming in his pants. Whatever it was, they needed to slow things down to mere warp speed because he really did not want to have to spend the next five hours wearing wet, sticky, cum-filled pants.

  Tearing their lips apart, he turned his head as he panted, “We have to stop.”

  He could not look at Sully, did not want to see the man’s disappointment that he was throwing the brakes on this … whatever it was. Instead, he laid his cheek on the man’s shoulder as he caught his breath and tried to think of anything that would pull him back from the near orgasmic state he found himself in.

  He focused on breathing and calming himself as he waited for Sully’s response. He hoped it would not be a fist in the face, because he did not want to have to explain how he got a black eye, or worse, to the conference organizers.

  “Thank ye,” Sully said just as Dane was sure the man was going to throw him through the nearest wall. “I’m not sure either of us could bear walking around the airport a hard cock leadin’ the way.”

  Dane unwrapped himself from around Sully, and once he was back on his feet, he took two steps back, a set of metal shelves halting his retreat.

  “It’s not that,” he said softly. “I was about to, um … you know.”

  His cheeks burned fiery red as his gaze dropped down, and he saw the truth of Sully’s statement. The front of the tan utility kilt was definitely not lying flat as it should be. Not flat at all.

  “Ye were?” Sully asked, sounding shocked.

  Dane nodded, his eyes glued to the front of Sully’s kilt. Finally, he swallowed hard and forced his gaze to rise until he was once again looking the man in the face. “Um, I was wondering something. Purely for research purposes,” he said softly.

  Sully’s grin turned wicked as his deep blue eyes glowed. “Research purposes, eh? Well, I’ll put it ta ye like this. Ye may peek under me kilt, providin’ ye deal with anythin’ ye find under there.”

  Dane licked his lips, and swallowed hard before he said, “Deal.”

  ****

  Sully had to fight to keep back the chuckle that wanted to break free as Dane just stood there, staring at his kilt for the next half minute. Finally, the man reached out and touched the waistband just over his left hip.

  “Get on with it, lad. It’s not goin’ ta raise itself,” Sully said, as the clock in his head tick-tick-ticked away the minutes. They only had so much time before they would have to leave this relatively private place and rejoin the traveling masses.

  He bit the inside of his cheek to keep back the laughter, and the moaning, as Dane slowly slid his hand down the fabric, missing his cock by mere inches. When he bent down, it was all Sully could do to keep from bending forward and grabbing the round mounds of flesh that made up the man’s ass. He wished there was a way to stop time so he could strip the man and explore every inch of him, including kissing, licking, and nibbling on every inch of his glorious ass.

  Sully sucked a breath when Dane’s hand touched his knee before starting the slow slide northward. This time Dane’s fingertips caressed his thigh as it slowly lifted the fabric higher and higher.

  Thankful he was only a few inches from the door, Sully leaned back. Locking his knees, he rested against the panel to keep from sliding to the floor as his muscles and bones seemed to liquefy under the attraction for Dane that was growing stronger by the second.

  “Oh, my.” Dane’s words were whispered, his tone worshipful as he raised the kilt high enough to see that Sully was indeed wearing only shoes and socks under his kilt.

  Sully sighed when fingers wrapped around the middle of his cock, then pulled down, exposing the head of his uncut cock. A moment later, a warm, wet tongue licked at the tip, then swirled around the head. Dane cleaned away the drops of pre-cum that coated it, and sent Sully’s need ratcheting a little higher.

  “Oh, sweet mother of mercy,” Sully whispered as Dane wrapped his lips around the head, sucking lightly at it.

  Sully fisted his hands to keep from grabbing Dane’s head and fucking his mouth as his body was demanding. Struggling to maintain control, he forced himself to remain still and allow the little man his fun. But it was a battle.

  A battle he conceded when Dane suddenly took him in all the way to the root
. His arousal surged until he teetered on the knife’s edge of his orgasm. His balls drew up, and his entire body tightened in preparation. “Dane, lad, I’m close. Too close.”

  His right hand came out from behind his back, ready to take over and stroke his cock to completion. Instead, Dane sucked his way to the head, then dove down the length again and again, the suction just right to trigger his orgasm.

  Locking his jaw over the roar of completion did little to silence the sound as Sully’s orgasm seemed to start at the periphery of his body and rolled through him to emerge in long, pulsating waves of seed, all of which Dane drank down.

  The man seemed to know just when Sully’s cock grew too sensitive, for he eased his hold, slowly swabbing his way back up the length one last time, this time licking and cleaning as he went. By the time Dane pulled off and sat back, Sully was having a hard time thinking.

  “That was…” he started, but could not find the words to describe how truly magnificent the blowjob had been.

  “Glad you liked it,” Dane said, sounding nearly as melted as Sully felt.

  “You okay?” Sully asked when Dane leaned against his leg instead of standing up and demanding reciprocity.

  “Uh-huh,” Dane said, sounding anything but. “Give me a minute.”

  “Dane?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “What happened?”

  When the man did not answer right away, Sully grew concerned. Though he wanted to pick the man up, he was currently trapped against the door with Dane’s body leaning against his legs.

  Eventually, Dane pulled the kilt from over his head and looked up at him. He looked so relaxed he appeared loopy with heavy eyelids and a grin that matched Sully’s. “I’m fine. But we’ll need to clean up the door before we leave.”

  Sully blinked. “You came?”

  Dane gave him a look of disbelief before he said with a snarky grin, “Yes, I did. Didn’t you?”

  Before Sully could come up with an appropriate response, a rooster began crowing somewhere in the vicinity of Dane’s pants.

  “Oh, shit. I have to go,” Dane said as he jumped to his feet.

  It only took two minutes for them to straighten their clothing and clean Dane’s seed from where it landed on the door. After one last kiss, which Sully wished had lasted two days longer, Dane pulled the door open and was gone, dragging his suitcase and briefcase in his wake.

  Sully waited a moment before he followed at a slower pace. He sent their waitress a grin and a nod as he passed her in the center of the restaurant. Then, with the hope that he would meet up with Dane once they reached San Antonio, he stepped out onto the concourse. His plane should start boarding in the next few minutes, though he needed to confirm the gate since it had already been changed twice since he’d left Scotland.

  Chapter Three

  Wanting to run for his life after his display of over-the-top slutty behavior, Dane forced himself to maintain a fast walking pace that took him with the flow of traffic. For the first few minutes, he swore he could feel the penetrating sexual heat of Sully’s gaze, but did not look back to confirm his suspicions. Instead, he concentrated on what he needed to do to get the hell out of this airport and away from the man who had just blown down all the barriers Dane had put in place over the last few years to keep himself safe.

  Yet his traitorous heart screamed at him to turn around and go back. While head and heart battled for his attention, Dane ducked into the first men’s room he could find. It was loud and noisy and busy. Stepping into a stall, he stood for a few moments just catching his breath and trying to put his actions of the last hour into some kind of perspective.

  Too bad he couldn’t.

  There was no explaining why he, a two-time bestselling author, would fall to his knees and suck off a stranger just because he was wearing a kilt. Or was it considered a man-skirt since it had not been fashioned from traditional Scottish tartan fabrics?

  “Sir? Are you all right in there?” the restroom attendant gently asked as he knocked on the door, jarring Dane from his thoughts.

  “Yes, I’m fine,” he responded.

  Pushing the flush button, he opened the door and stepped past the attendant without making eye contact. No need for anyone else to be privy to his embarrassment.

  After washing his hands, Dane headed down the concourse once again. He stopped at the big board listing the many departing flights and their gate numbers. As usual when it came to this airport, his gate had been moved, but fortunately only down two gates, and not to the other end of the airport, as had happened to him before.

  Arriving at the gate, ten minutes before the scheduled loading time, he found a seat. Settling in, he shoved his still conflicted feelings into a holding cell and slammed the door. He would pull them out later, when he was alone and had time to examine his actions without interruption.

  Then he would find a way to rebuild the barriers that had fallen while he had been on his knees. He’d had one too many black eyes, split lips, and broken hearts to return to the promiscuous ways of his past. He had an image to build, one that his parents would be proud of, even though they had passed three years earlier within a few months of one another.

  He was so caught up in his thinking and planning and strategizing, that he did not indulge in the people-watching he normally occupied his time with. It was when the words “Last call for flight 4224 to San Antonio” sounded that he realized everyone had boarded the plane and he hadn’t noticed. Jumping up, he hurried to the desk, handed the woman there his boarding pass, and raced down the ramp to the airplane.

  Fortunately, he was sitting in on the aisle so he would not have to disturb anyone by forcing them to stand so he could get to his seat. Reaching his row, he met the flight attendant, who took his suitcase and placed it in the overhead bin for him. Dane then settled in, placing his briefcase under the seat in front of him and strapping himself in. Knowing he had several hours before he had any further responsibilities, Dane tilted his head back, closed his eyes, and allowed himself to drift off to sleep.

  ****

  Sully spent the flight writing on a yellow pad with his favorite oversized pen filled with blue ink. It had become a kind of tradition for him to leave his computer at home and do his writing old school when he traveled. Which may be one of the reasons he did not travel much these days. The words sometimes came at him too fast to capture by merely scribbling them down.

  But Sully was set in his ways, and during the flight he forced his rapid-fire brain to slow down so he could capture the beauty that was Dane Murphy on paper. He wished he had been hip and savvy enough to ask the man to take a picture with him, but it honestly had not occurred to him. For now, all he had of the man was a memory that he knew would bring a smile to his heart, and lips, for a long time to come.

  Once he had written all he could remember, filling nearly half of the notebook he’d brought for the flight, Sully accepted two small bottles of whiskey from the attendant and pulled from his messenger bag the autographed book he had bought at the little kiosk where he had first seen Dane. If he could not have the man himself, he would indulge in the man’s words, which, he hoped, would give him a better insight into the man himself.

  ****

  As he walked up the jetway to the San Antonio International Airport, Dane had only one thought on his mind, to find a restroom. Unless his bladder was in imminent danger of bursting, he refused to step foot in an airplane restroom. They were too small, too confined, and everyone on the plane used them. Being in the confined space of the main cabin was restriction enough for him. He was happy that he had slept most of the trip, though once he had awakened, his seat mate began talking, and had not stopped until Dane stood to retrieve his suitcase.

  His bladder was screaming, his nerves were jangling, and all he wanted was a ride to the hotel, a double anything at the bar, and a good meal before retiring to his room for the evening. Somehow during the cab ride, he also needed to shift his mindset to that of “Dane
Murphy, bestselling author”. The closer he got to the conference, the more he wanted to be like his idol and go into hibernation far away from the world of adoring, questioning, and sometimes rabid fans.

  For a man who loved reading and writing, being social because of his newfound success was sometimes more of a challenge than he liked. But he did it, and would marvel at how well he handled it, once the convention was over and he was headed home.

  Instead of hurrying, Dane took his time wandering through the terminal. Though tempted to buy some things in the gift shop, he reminded himself that he had little room in his luggage for souvenirs.

  Instead, he allowed himself a few minutes to kick himself for not finding out more about Sully before they went their separate ways. Like where the man was traveling to, and whether or not he would be interested in maybe getting together again someday. Visiting Scotland was, after all, now sitting at the top of Dane’s bucket list.

  Following the signs to the exit, Dane stepped onto the sidewalk and sighed. San Antonio was a good twenty or more degrees warmer, proving that he would not need the jacket he’d packed until he arrived home again. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, but found himself choking and coughing as his lungs filled with gas fumes and dust.

  He stood for a moment, looking around and orienting himself when a passenger in a passing car caught his attention. A bearded man in a hat. Could that be Sully in the back of that cab?

  Or was his lust-addled brain playing tricks on him again?

  “Need a cab, sir?” the attendant wearing a cowboy hat and boots asked.

  Dane nodded, then followed the man to the next empty cab.

  It was time to put the memory of Sully and their unique, intense, and too-short interlude where it belonged. In the past. Time to move on and possibly, maybe, he hoped, find a man who would knock all thoughts of Sully McKellen out of his brain.