by Anna Zabo
Only needed one hand to hold his cuffed wrists. The other I wrapped around his cock and stroked him as furiously as I fucked him. Simon gave an anguished cry that hung between pleasure and pain. “I gotta . . . please let me come. Please, please . . .” His words fell away into moans and gasps.
Light was everywhere. “Yeah, Si. Come for me.”
He did, coating my hand and tightening around me, and I was gone too, soaring off into a heaven of light and bliss and heat. As a counterpoint to our own release, Lydia groaned deep and long and I knew I’d taken her there too.
Perfect. So fucking good.
Took a while to come down—for all of us, I think. When I could move again, I slid free of Simon and he fell sideways, stretching out his torso and pulling in deep breaths. I wanted to join him, but his hands were still bound together, so I crawled up next to him and unhooked the cuffs from each other. “You okay?”
Simon gave a choked laugh. “Oh yeah.” Another breath. “So much better than okay.”
Relief flooded over my post-orgasmic glory. “I should get cleaned up.” Except I couldn’t move. Fucking Simon like that—coming like that—it made me want to lie there and stare at the ceiling for a while.
Soft footfalls, then louder ones on tile, then Lydia handed me a towel and held out a trash can.
I should have been embarrassed by her seeing me spent and softening, but hell, she’d watched me fuck Simon. Modesty was so two hours ago. I took off the condom, threw it into the trash, and grabbed the towel.
Once I’d cleaned my hand, I offered the towel to Simon. He wiped himself up best he could, then rolled close to me. Funny angles, but hell, we’d move later. Maybe.
There was a gentle clink as Lydia replaced the trash can in the bathroom, then she was back. “Night, guys,” she whispered, and kissed us on the foreheads, me first, then Simon.
Then she was gone, and the door to the room clicked closed.
Something fluttered in my chest, but I didn’t want to figure out what, so I curled up around Simon and pressed my cheek against his warm chest. He smelled of salt and musk. Sex and lube and leather.
After a while, he stroked my hair and spoke, sounding far more together than me. “Maybe I should ask if you’re all right?”
“Yeah, I am.” I tasted the truth there. “Very all right.”
He drew a finger over my cheek. “Come on. Let’s get under the covers.”
In short order, we were nestled in each other’s arms, in the dark, under a sheet and a light blanket. Somewhere along the line, Simon had taken off the cuffs. He brushed a thumb over my lips, and kissed me, slow and sweet. He spoke against my lips. “Thank you for that. You have no idea. But thank you.”
I kissed him back. Didn’t trust myself to speak. I didn’t have a clue what was going on in his head. Didn’t know what was going on in mine, only that here and now, Simon was in my arms, I was in his, and that was enough.
Thank goodness we opened the shop later on Sundays, because all three of us were dragging in the morning, though the sex had been so very worth it. I was sore in every glorious way I loved.
Mr. Purrbody waltzed into the guest bedroom while Ian was in the shower and jumped on the bed. He sniffed the covers with a disdain only cats manage, and stared at me.
“Yeah, well, it was fun, Flufferbutt. Don’t give me the stink-eye.”
He swished his tail, then flopped down near the end of the bed, next to the clothes I’d found for Ian to wear. A fairly innocuous T-shirt and jeans, since no one needed to know he’d spent the night here, though honestly, I was beginning not to care so much. Something I should talk to Lydia about.
A few minutes after the water shut off, Ian exited the bathroom, wonderfully naked, towel drying his wet hair. I must have been staring, because he shrugged. “Figured everyone’s seen it.”
Yeah, but I could gaze at his body for ages, the way his hips moved, the trail of hair from his belly to his cock. Those delicious nipples. His glorious tattoo displayed for all the world to see. “Mr. Purrbody hasn’t.”
He eyed the cat and slung the towel over his shoulder. “Purrbody? You called him McFluff last night.”
“He’s got lots of names. Officially, he’s Lawrence Purrbody, but also Flufferbutt. McFluff. Larry Fuzzbottom.” I laughed. “He’s our judgmental feline overlord.”
I swear, if any cat could give me a raised eyebrow, my cat could. “Love you too, sweetheart,” I said to him.
“Aww.” Ian tossed the towel on the bed. “Is he making fun of you?” Only took a few scratches on the head, and Lawrence demonstrated his surname by purring up a storm for Ian.
“There’s some clothes you can borrow.” I’d already dressed, as had Lydia. Not that Ian was slow or lazy, I’d just decided to go down on him before he crawled out of bed.
“Thanks. I’m okay with wearing my stuff from yesterday, but if we’re going to get an audience in the shop . . .”
Someone might notice he hadn’t changed and I didn’t want to hand Marlina another reason to give us grief, even if I was less worried about being out. I closed the distance and kissed him. “It’s fine.” He tasted of toothpaste and smelled of my woodsy shower gel, and I wanted more than his mouth. I craved the heat and passion of him fucking me until I couldn’t breathe.
He must have sensed my mood, because he placed a finger on my lips. “Don’t. We have to work.” He backed away and grabbed the jeans. “Bad enough that I’m going commando in your pants. Gonna be thinking about you all day.”
Oh, as if that would cool down my blood. I scratched Purrbody under the chin and was granted a deep rumble and a display of a tummy of white floof.
“Is it a trap?” Ian pulled on the simple black T-shirt and eyed the cat’s belly.
“No. Actually likes his stomach rubbed.” I demonstrated and those purrs got louder.
There were thumps up the stairs. “You guys about ready?” Lydia leaned against the doorframe, and my heart did a little flip. She was glowing and seemed happy, if a bit tired around the edges.
God, last night had been spectacular. The memory sang through my veins. Ian. Lydia. The cuffs. Her getting off. I had to be the luckiest guy alive.
“Yeah,” Ian said. “I have to get my shoes on.”
“Larry’s been distracting us.” I gave him a final pet.
“Poor neglected baby.” She pursed her lips at the kitty. “I should spend a few nights with him. I’ve nearly finished my freelance work, so I can take some time at home.”
A shuffle as Ian tied his shoes. He stood up and there was trepidation and worry in the line of his back. “I’m sorry I’ve disrupted everything in your life.”
“No, no.” Lydia strode into the room and took Ian’s hands. “God, no. You haven’t done anything. You’ve been nothing but a joy.”
He had, both in the shop and in bed. The sex had been wonderful, but I was also getting to live a piece of my dream working next to—and learning from—a real live Hollywood miniature set artist.
“I—” Ian seemed at a loss for words. Then he laughed and caught my eye before focusing on Lydia. “You two are something else.” He gave Lydia’s hands a squeeze, then dropped them. “We should probably get going.”
We left Mr. Purrbody lounging on the bed, trooped out to the SUV, and Lydia drove us into town. I sat in the front, and Ian in the back.
As the businesses started appearing along Main, Lydia asked, “Any objections to swinging by Stomping Grounds?”
“No!” Ian and I answered emphatically, practically at the same time, and Lydia laughed. Soon enough, we were in the shop and ordering our drinks. The barista gave Ian a raised eyebrow. “So now you’re bringing ’em in for coffee?”
Oh man, Ian blushed nicely at that. “Well . . . yes.” His smile was coy. “Figured it’s easier to carry their coffee this way.”
“As if I’d let you pay . . .” Lydia slapped down a twenty on the counter.
Ian and Lydia jostled and laughed over the
bill, but Ian gave up gracefully to Lydia in the end. My heart melted in my chest. I— This. This was what I’d always wanted.
It had been less than a week. Slow down, Si. Don’t get too attached. This kind of relationship, with all its complexity, could always fall apart. But my soul tied itself up in knots at the potential for so much more and I clung to that hope.
Coffees in hand, we drove the extra couple of blocks to the shop, parked in our spot in the alley, and clambered into the back rooms of End o’ Earth. After Ian headed into the main part of the shop to check on the set, Lydia bumped me with her shoulder. “You okay?” Concern there, and love. Always love.
I nodded. “Trying not to get ahead of myself.” I studied the path Ian had taken. “But he’s— Well, you said it yourself.”
A joy. Utterly. That was the problem.
“You’re worried it’s too good to be true.”
“Pretty much.” I knew myself, how fast I fell and how hard it hurt when the seemingly inevitable happened.
She kissed me and tasted of cinnamon and java. “I love you, Si. Go spend the day with that lovely man.”
Now, that was an order I could follow. I headed out into the store. Dexy would be in soon and Lydia would do some restocking. Everything was in hand, except for my heart, which I could never corral. Maybe I’d get burned. But Ian seemed happy too, so maybe I wouldn’t.
Only one way to find out. I stepped out into the store and found him by the set, which he’d already uncovered.
A breathtaking smile greeted me. “Let’s get to work.”
“I’m all yours,” I said, and meant every single word.
According to Ian, we got a shitload of work done that Sunday, despite answering questions from Wolf’s Landing fans. It’d been pleasant, actually. I fielded a few inquiries about painting, model building, and miniatures. Some folks said they’d seen me working before, but never had the courage to come up and ask about model construction or miniature painting.
We must have been getting people coming over from Howling Moon, because I kept spying some Wolf’s Landing T-shirts I hadn’t seen before. It was about the time of year they put out new ones. I’d have to look at the newer designs sometime.
During one of the lulls, Lydia wandered back with some bottles of water, and I set down my brush. “Do you think maybe I should teach a workshop on miniature and model painting?”
“Yes,” Lydia and Ian answered in the same tone, one that had duh rather than a period at the end of the sentence.
Huh. Okay. I put that on my mental to-do list.
“I should give you one of my sculptures to paint.” Ian shoved some strands of hair out of his face with the back of his wrist. “I bet it’d be stunning.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. Luckily, Lydia spoke. “Wait, you sculpt?”
And they were off, Ian filling in Lydia on his sculptures and her offering shop space. My heart did a dance in my chest, seeing them animatedly discussing his art.
Please. A silent prayer. I wanted this to work.
By the time that night rolled around, we were all exhausted. Once the shop was locked up, and Dexy had waved her goodbyes, Ian took a breath. “I think I need to go home tonight.” There was trepidation in his words. He met my gaze. “As much as I love this, I’m so worn out.” As if to punctuate the statement, he yawned, then looked completely sheepish. “Sorry.”
I held back a yawn of my own. Barely. “No, totally understand.” Mostly because I was also beat-ass tired. I pulled him close and stole a kiss. “Besides, having energy is good for other things.”
Lydia nearly held back a snicker and that turned into a yawn. She’d been burning the candle too much lately also.
Ian drew me back in and his lips and tongue took my breath away. As did the feel of his body against mine. “Just you wait.” Then he broke the kiss and smiled. “I’ll see you guys bright and early tomorrow.”
Still, there was a pang in my chest when he sauntered down the alley to the walkway that took him back to Main.
“Hey, come on,” Lydia said. “Let’s go home.”
I climbed into the SUV. Lydia was kind enough to leave me to my thoughts during the ride home, and as we went through the evening. She knew me well, especially after all this time. When we settled into bed for the night, I pulled her to me. “I love you so much.” Her hair was soft against my lips and her skin warm.
“Oh, Si, I know,” she whispered, as if she’d heard all the words I hadn’t said. The fears. The worries. All the what-ifs. “I know, I know. It’ll be okay, whatever happens.”
On some level, I knew it would. I had her. I would always have her.
But I wanted Ian too. For the first time, I wondered if that made me greedy.
Monday came and went much as the other days with Ian in the shop. We worked and laughed and fielded questions from customers and Wolf’s Landing fans. I soaked in as much of Ian’s presence as I could: his long limbs and stunning smile. Everything. Time was ticking on, and the set looked better than ever. Soon, he wouldn’t be working his magic in my shop. He’d be back on the Wolf’s Landing lot, and life would return to normal at End o’ Earth.
I wasn’t ready. Seemed like he wasn’t either, given the sometimes-mournful glances he gave the shop.
My fear was that whatever lay between us would end the minute he and the set left. Was this a fling to him? Or worse, a way to repay me? I had no idea. We should talk about where this was going, but there wasn’t time or the privacy we needed while we were working. Lunch in the back didn’t afford us the space, not with Dexy and Lydia in and out. While they both knew what was going on, I didn’t want to spill my guts in front of Dexy, and I wasn’t sure Ian wanted to have this conversation while Lydia was in the room.
We’d eventually all talk, but that was putting the cart miles before the horse. So, I’d see if he wanted to get a beer tonight.
As it turned out, it would be a celebratory brew, because about half an hour before closing, Ian eyed the model and said, “I think we’re done.”
“Really?” To me, the model could’ve been mistaken for the photographs of the set, but I wasn’t the professional.
A slow nod. “Yeah. I’m at the stage where I keep wanting to touch up my touch-ups . . . and that means there’s nothing left to do and my perfectionism is taking over.”
I set my brush down and leaned back in my chair. It was beautiful and so very Wolf’s Landing. “Wow. We did it.”
His smile set my blood on fire, as did his warm hand on my shoulder. “That’s right—we did it.”
Tingles surged up and down my back. I helped build a set for my favorite TV show. And I’d met—and slept with—Ian. Life didn’t get much better.
“Now I have to figure out how to get it out of here and back to the lot.” Ian laughed. “It’s not gonna fit in the Mini.”
Not anymore, it wouldn’t. Oops. It was also going to be damn tricky getting it through the door. “We can use the SUV.” It would fit in the back of that. “But I think we’re gonna need everyone’s help to get this out of the front door. Or the one in the back.”
Ian’s eyes got wide. “Oh, shit. I forgot about the door.”
Though there were people around, I grabbed his hand. “Hey, we’ll get it out. Promise. You said you were good at squeezing things into tight places.”
There was that reddening I loved. “Yeah. Okay.”
We tidied the area and covered the set one final time. Ian looked around. “I’ll pack up my supplies tomorrow.”
Good, more time for us tonight.
We got the rest of the store cleaned up, I let Jesse out the front, and Ian and I headed out the back. Once I set the alarm and locked the door, I turned to him. “Up for a beer to toast our success?”
Ian stuffed his hands in his pocket. “I’d love one. But I need to take a raincheck tonight. There’s a meeting on set at five-thirty tomorrow morning and Anna wants me there. We’re going over the shooting schedule and pl
ans for Wednesday.”
Well, shit. There went having a conversation, or anything else. “Okay.”
I must have failed to keep the disappointment from my voice, because Ian stepped forward. “Hey.” His voice was soft and his fingers cupped my face. Heat from his body radiated against mine.
He brushed his thumb over my lips. “There’s nothing in the world I want more than a beer with you.” His mouth met mine, and our tongues tangled until I moaned into him. Our bodies brushed, dicks rocking against each other.
Oh yeah, he was still into me. Ian broke the kiss, and that was sensual and breathtaking, the slow pull apart, the way he sucked on my lower lip. “I want you so bad.”
“Same,” I whispered.
He slid his hands down my back and pulled us together tight. “I can tell.”
Couldn’t help the hiss as he ground into me. So fucking good.
He backed off. “Come on, I’ll drive you home.”
When we reached my house, he wrapped his hand around my neck and claimed my lips again. Still so hot and demanding. His fingers traced the length of my shaft in my jeans until I was squirming in my seat and incapable of anything but throaty whimpers.
“Yeah.” Ian palmed my cock. “That’s what I like.”
“Me putty in your hands?” My whisper filled the car.
“Mm-hmm. Exactly.” He heaved a sigh. “I’d blow off the meeting tomorrow, but truth is, Anna scares the shit out of me.”
I’d heard that about the director, that she was good, and fair, but exacting and she’d call you on the carpet if you screwed up. “Don’t get in trouble on account of me.” I brushed his cheek with a shaky hand. “I’ll be here tomorrow. And the next day. And the one after that.”
I couldn’t get a read on the emotions that flickered over Ian before he kissed me again. This one was sweet, though, and he’d finally relented on my cock. “I want you to do something for me,” he said.
