The Veranda (Lavender Shores Book 3)

by Rosalind Abel

  He whimpered.

  As Donovan got to his knees, he started to reach for his dick, but stopped himself, instead putting his hands on both of my thighs, running them over the fabric as he lowered his head and took my dick into his mouth.

  At his wet heat consuming me, I had to put my hand on the back of his head and hold him still, more to keep from orgasming than actually controlling his body. Either way, it worked, he let out a long animal-like growl. His tongue moved along my shaft as his hands continued to stroke over my pants, squeezing my thigh muscles, and then traveling down my calves, across my dress shoes, and then back up again. I released his head. “Slowly. Don’t make me come because I’m going to fuck you after this.”

  Donovan groaned again. He sucked in a few panting breaths around my dick and then began to bob his head, slowly, deliciously, using his tongue up my length, over the head, and dart into the slit slightly before swallowing me once more.

  I was right, I was too aroused to last, and Donovan’s mouth was too talented. “Enough.”

  With instant obedience, Donovan rose off my cock, sat back on his heels, and lifted his gaze to mine. I’d thought I’d seen him full of desire before, but it was nothing compared to how he looked at me now. Like he wanted to devour me, but was simply waiting for permission. I leaned over, and gripped his jaw with my hands and kissed him. I filled his mouth with my tongue, claiming him, teasing him, rejoicing that he was mine.

  Donovan grasped my dick as we kissed and began to stroke.

  The orgasm built in the base of my balls, and I broke the kiss, stepping back, causing the chair to roll away. “Stand up.”

  He did, the trail of precome following him up from the floor like a spider’s web. The sight was too much, and I allowed myself to break the fantasy, just for a second. I bent over and took the head of his cock into my mouth, tasting his salty sweetness, savoring the slickness as he coated my tongue. At his moan, I released him and straightened once more, then turned and pulled open the drawer, retrieving a small bottle of lube and a condom I’d bought earlier in the day.

  As I opened the condom, Donovan stepped nearer and ran his hands over my suit jacket, then dipping them beneath to trace over my body. I nearly corrected him as I hadn’t told him to do that, but it felt too good. I always wanted Donovan’s hands on me. I nearly had the condom out of the wrapper when he curled his fingers around my tie and gave a pull. He started to loosen the knot but I grabbed his hand and shook my head.

  “Aren’t you getting naked?”

  Again, I wondered if I was giving him the fantasy he desired or if it was just what I’d seen in porn when men wore suits. I shook my head.

  “Oh, fuck, Spencer. Fuck.” His gaze traveled down my body, pausing at my exposed erection, then moved onto my shoes and back up.

  His whispers of lust were all the answer I needed.

  “Brace yourself on the desk.”

  Donovan turned around, gripping the edge of the desk like he was about to get frisked, and spread his legs. I finished rolling the condom over my cock and then swiped lube over it as well. Depositing more lube on my fingers, I smeared it over his entrance, though my mouth had probably gotten him ready. He whimpered, but didn’t speak. I pushed in the tip of my thumb and he whimpered louder.

  I lined up behind him, and slapped his hole a couple of times with my sheathed cock. He let out a cry with each smack. “Remember, Donovan, every noise you make, everyone in the firm out there will hear.”

  It wasn’t a reprimand, but I was curious what he would do. When I’d come up with the idea, I’d been a little worried about what people would hear and what they would think. However, in the heat of the moment, I hoped they did hear. Maybe I’d regret that later, maybe not. Either way, I didn’t give a fuck in that moment.

  I lined up my cock with his hole, teasing, pushing in just a touch, not enough to break the surface, then pulled away. Traced over his ass and up his back with my other hand, then stroked over his shoulder and across his chest, and brought my arm around his neck, aligning my elbow with his jaw. Then I pushed in, all at once, and all the way.

  Donovan let out a sharp cry, but cut it off.

  Putting pressure on the underside of his jaw, I pulled him back toward me as I shoved in a touch deeper, eliciting another gasp. I’d been inside him enough over the past week that I knew I wasn’t hurting him, at least not in a bad way.

  I began a rhythm, as slow as I possibly could make it, knowing that I wasn’t going to last with how aroused I was. “Don’t let go of the desk.”

  He whined, and his ass clenched around my cock, which was nearly my undoing.

  As I scraped my five-o’clock shadow against his ear, the way I knew he liked, I ran my free hand over his chest and down his abs as I fucked him. Then I encircled his straining erection, completely slick from his arousal.

  My rhythm increased as my hips took control over my willpower. I began to pump his cock.

  At the feel of him in my hand, and the heat and tightness of him surrounding my dick, I lost control, slamming into him over and over without any thoughts of rhythm or of making it last. “Come on my desk as I fuck you. Shoot all over it.”

  He came at my words, letting out one loud strangled yell, and spraying all over the top of my desk. With the sight of his release and the clenching of his ass, my own orgasm rocketed through me, and I emptied into him, with thrust after thrust.

  My orgasm subsided. I stay buried in him, securing his body to mine. After a second, he tapped my arm around his neck and I loosened it, having forgotten I still had him in a choke hold. I released his neck, and ran my hands over his body, loving the feel of him, of his skin damp from our lovemaking.

  Gradually, I began to soften, and I pulled out of him, though if I could’ve stayed in him all night, I would’ve happily never left the office. I yanked out a nearby tissue and took care of the condom.

  He turned to face me. He looked a little embarrassed. “Pretty sure someone heard.”

  I shrugged. Nothing could concern me at that moment.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Are you kidding? We can try to go again and see how loud we can be for all I care.” Maybe I’d be embarrassed by that later, maybe I wouldn’t.

  Relief washed over him and he let out a long, contented sigh. “That may have been the best thing that’s ever happened to me in my entire life.”

  My heart soared at that. Thrilled I’d known what he needed, what he’d wanted. So grateful that I could be the one to give it to him. “Good. It wasn’t exactly mediocre for me either.”

  Donovan ran his hands over my suit again, lightly, causing me to shiver. He leaned close and kissed me, then met my gaze. “I love you, Spencer.”

  “I love you.” I couldn’t help myself. “Even so, I am going to have to charge you for the cost of refinishing my desk.”

  He burst out with a laugh, but blushed. “Worth every penny.”

  I kissed him again and stepped away. “We should get going. No reason to be late to dinner, if we can keep from it.”

  He looked down at his body, then up to me. “Are you kidding? I need to clean up, and I have no shirt.”

  “Oh right!” I dug into my drawer again and pulled out a pack of wet wipes. “I actually thought about that. It’s not a shower, but it’ll do. And then you can use your shirt to dry off.”

  He looked impressed for a second, then his eyes narrowed. “So you’re expecting me to go shirtless? I’m pretty sure five-star restaurants have a no shirt, no service policy at the least.”

  “You know, I’d like to see you try that, actually, but….” I crossed the office and unzipped a garment bag from where I’d hung it on a coatrack by the door. “You made all the plans for the weekend, so I wanted to do something. Plus, I know how you feel about suits. And if I wasn’t one-hundred-percent certain before, I sure am now.”

  “You didn’t have to buy me a suit, Spencer. I own three or four of them.”

  “Not a sui
t like this one you don’t.”

  Donovan gaped at the suit. Not that I could blame him; it was definitely stare-worthy. I glanced at the clock, then at Donovan’s stunning naked body. “You know, we have enough time for me to wash you off myself. And if I happen to get distracted, I’m sure somewhere else in the city has food. Five-star or not.” I left the suit and headed back to him.

  “What about you? Aren’t you going to change? You gotta have lube on the fly of your pants.”

  “I bet I do. I’ll use a wet wipe. But no, every time you glance at me tonight, I want you to see this suit and remember me wearing it as I fucked you.”

  His cock twitched, despite having just released. “That’s kinda gross.” His cock twitched again.

  “But kinda hot too.”

  He didn’t disagree.

  I pulled a wet wipe from the pack and began to smooth it over his body. “Let me get you ready for dinner.”

  He chuckled but began fondling my dick, which I hadn’t put away yet. “You know, I’m getting less hungry by the second. Well, kinda.”

  From my body’s reaction to his touch, I knew that we were going to miss our reservation. I let the wet wipe fall to the floor and motioned toward the couch against the far wall. “Have I mentioned that I have some… therapist fantasies?”

  Thirteen

  Donovan

  Leaning forward just in time, a glop of cheese landed on the plate instead of my lap. I looked at Spencer and gave a shake of my head. “I forgot I was wearing a designer suit there for a minute.” I glowered at the burger. “As good as this is, I feel like this suit deserved so much better for its first meal.”

  Spencer was mid-bite and chewed before replying. “It’s okay. I was thinking, when we got back to the hotel tonight, maybe we could do a role reversal. This time you keep the suit on.”

  It took a heartbeat to speak. The lump in my throat having nothing to do with burgers. “Yeah, that might need to happen.” Dear God, two suit fantasies lived out in one day. I didn’t know how much more I could take. I didn’t think anything could surpass what we’d done in Spencer’s office, but it sure wouldn’t hurt to try.

  “I am sorry that I messed up your reservation.” He grinned. “No, actually I’m not. Nothing could make me sorry about what we did. But hopefully they didn’t have your credit card on file.”

  I shook my head, keeping the lie to the nonverbal variety. The restaurant did require a credit card to hold a reservation, and I was certain the no-show fee was substantial. Like I cared. Like there was any amount of money I wouldn’t have forked over to stay in Spencer’s office as long as possible. I took another bite of my cheeseburger and placed my hand on Spencer’s leg, glanced around at the other diners of Cove Cafe, then squeezed his thigh.

  “This idea of yours was brilliant. Nothing to worry about. No Lavender Shores natives looking over our shoulders, and to top it off, we are deep in the Castro. We can be as gay as we want to be.”

  “It is pretty wonderful. Although, I’m pretty sure we stick out like a sore thumb, wandering around in our suits.”

  He chuckled. “Oh, come on, we just passed that naked guy walking out of the porn store wearing nothing but a guitar over his junk. I know the Castro is tame compared to what it used to be, but I’d say we can get away with pretty much anything.”

  “Naked man is one thing, guys in designer suits is another.” I adjusted my tie, making sure my fingers were free from grease beforehand. “Not that I’m complaining. I think this is just taking my suit fetish to a much deeper level. Which I didn’t know was possible.”

  “You know, I’m totally fine with that.”

  It truly was a completely different experience having a meal with Spencer in San Francisco. He wasn’t my ex-brother-in-law. He wasn’t an Epstein; I wasn’t a Carlisle. We were just two regular men on a date. Two men who’d wanted to be with each other for a decade. Two men who’d just had killer rounds of sex, donned suits, and driven to the Castro for cheeseburgers. Well, maybe regular was an overstatement.

  Part of me had expected the nerves to follow me down from Lavender Shores. I had done my best over the past week to let go of the fears of Spencer freaking out from some flashback from reparative therapy or childhood guilt. It had taken a concerted effort. But now that we were here, far away from home, nearly as anonymous as we could be to those around us, all those worries seemed inconsequential. Maybe the cheeseburger was perfection, or maybe I was just happier than I could ever remember being. Whatever it was, it was the best damn meal of my life. Way better than five stars.

  We finished eating, paid, and walked out of the restaurant hand in hand. The summer night was cool, the salt breeze from the bay as thick as the stars overhead. The layers of the suit and the warmth of Spencer’s hand in mine made the temperature perfect. We were surrounded by weekend partiers in the Castro, in plain view of everyone, but still, it was just Spencer and me. Maybe a small miracle, but it felt like the biggest slice of magic imaginable.

  Typically, the quiet serenity of Lavender Shores felt safe and protected. However, at the moment, it couldn’t compare to the bustling crowds, busy street, and glare of neon lights.

  Spencer glanced around, then turned a playful smile on me. “I know we just ate, but there’s one more place we have to go while we’re still wearing suits.”

  “That does really narrow things down, considering where we are.”

  He pointed across Castro Street toward Market. “I think it’s dessert time.”

  I didn’t have to ask for clarification. Right at the beginning of the strip, the glowing yellow sign for Hot Cookie welcomed each new visitor. I couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Really going to play the role of tourist tonight?”

  “Hell yeah!” He looked at me with his bright eyes, his voice filled with childlike excitement. “In fact, the whole weekend needs to be a tourist weekend. Tomorrow, we can go to the Golden Gate Bridge, walk by the Full House houses. Sunday we go to Alcatraz, Fisherman’s Wharf, maybe Coit Tower.”

  His excitement was contagious. “How many hours in a day do you think there are?”

  “Good point!” He laced his fingers with mine. “Scrap the Full House houses. We want to make sure we leave enough time for plenty of hotel sex on that king-size bed.” He winked. “Although, I’ve read some books about some pretty sexy things happening on Alcatraz if you manage to spend the night there.”

  “I don’t know what kind of books you’ve been reading that include prison sex, but apparently there’s some more fetishes that we need to explore.”

  “Oh, definitely. Definitely.” He headed down the sidewalk pulling me along. “Come on, let’s get some cookies.”

  I nearly skipped along beside him. So extremely happy. And then it hit me. Spencer was happy. All the worry and stress I’d seen in his face the past weeks, the bags under his eyes, all of it, gone. He didn’t look older and tired anymore. In fact, he looked fresher and happier than I had seen him in ages. He wasn’t going to freak out. The past wasn’t going to overwhelm him and cause him to run. Maybe it was too good to believe, too good to trust, but I decided to do just that—trust Spencer was truly the man I knew him to be. Trust that we had paid whatever price was required by our long wait. No more waiting for the shoe to drop, I was going to enjoy every second with him.

  The first thing on that list? Cookies!

  The place was basically the size of a shoebox. Nothing more than a double long display case filled with every type of cookie imaginable. Neon sign in the window, and a string of red-and-white men’s briefs with the words Hot Cookie emblazoned on the crotch hung overhead.

  The cute redhead behind the counter stood up straighter as we walked in. “Holy shit! To think I was pissed I couldn’t get today off! Two hot daddies in suits. Fuck yeah!”

  We both laughed, but I noticed a blush rise to Spencer’s cheeks. Just when I thought he couldn’t get any cuter.

  The redhead wasn’t done. “For you two, pick any two cookies
you want, they’re free.” He winked, and the teasing left his voice. “If you want to hang around until closing, I’ll give you each a dozen for free then.”

  Spencer burned bright at that.

  “Thanks for the offer, but I think we will probably stick with cookies right now.” I moved to the counter, focusing on the trays of cookies instead of the kid who was eighteen if a day. I pointed out a large sandy-textured cookie to Spencer. “I hear their snickerdoodles are the best.”

  He glanced at the cookie, then with a grin and impossibly turning one shade brighter, he pointed toward the other side. “These. We need to get these. The white one has a curve that matches yours.”

  I leaned over and sucked in a breath. The tray was filled with dark and white chocolate penises. Nearly life-sized. And under the smooth chocolate shaft, each supported two bulging testicles, covered in toasted coconut.

  Spencer lowered his voice, though I imagined the redhead could still hear him. “Although, you do a better job trimming your balls.”

  Before I could respond, the redhead piped in, confirming my suspicion. “Daddy knows how to trim. It really is my lucky day!” He opened the back of the display case. “Macaroon penises coming right up. White or milk chocolate?”

  We insisted on paying for our cookies, despite a blatant offer for a threesome later, and rejoined the crowds walking along the Castro. Spencer had chosen the white chocolate penis that had a curve like mine. He held it up between us.

  I stared at it. “You can’t be serious?”

  “Oh come on, Doctor!” He shook the cookie. “How many times in life do you get the chance to toast in the middle of the street with two penises while wearing designer suits? You can’t let a moment like that pass by!”