Alluring Passion: A MM Contemporary Bundle

by Peter Styles

  Two can play the teasing game.

  “So, what are you doing?” Chance said casually, remaining where he stood.

  Angel lifted up his head, hips bucking to thrust his cock against the palm of his hand. “Hey, baby,” he moaned hoarsely. “Care to join me?”

  But Chance still didn’t move, instead now planting his hands on his hips. “I thought you said you were tired from band practice.”

  “Not too tired for a little fun,” Angel said. It sounded like a challenge now, and Chance had started turning into a man who didn’t back down from a challenge. Grinning, he started to strip out of his clothes.

  It took a surprisingly short amount of time to pack up and leave Astoria. Only Rocky was sad to see him go, while their representative pretended to be sorry when it was visible in her eyes that she was only glad she would be rid of the trouble of having a gay employee. Knowing that, Chance should have been hurt but he wasn’t. He wanted to be gone just as much as she wanted him to be gone.

  They stayed with Lucille for all of two weeks. She turned out to be a rather aloof and yet girly roommate, and apparently had a heart of gold. There was no room in her band for another guitarist but she had a friend who was looking to start a group of his own and suggested Angel check him out.

  Now, in addition to his new job as a music tutor, Angel had finally settled down and joined a band. They were the King and His Fools—their vocalist had the last name of King—and their first gig was next week.

  Chance had a job now as well, although his was a bit more ordinary than Angel’s. He was a clerk in a health and wellness store, but had recently begun to put some thought into an actual career. College was a long way off, but maybe someday…

  It was a lot to think about, and a lot to adjust to. Chance blocked it all out now as he crawled into bed with his boyfriend. The only things in the world that he wanted was to feel Angel’s touch on his body and to know there were mountains just outside the window. All at once, the world was very big and very small. And now he could choose, rather than stay trapped in a place where he didn’t belong.

  Angel kissed him as their bodies pressed together, ridges of muscle gliding across softer slopes. Their arms wrapped around each other, and their tongues played between their mouths.

  “You’ll really be tired when I get done with you,” Chance whispered. He flicked his tongue against Angel’s and then pulled back teasingly, letting him know that he wasn’t going to be easy to get this time.

  Angel grinned at him. “I’m counting on it. But I wanted to be the one doing stuff to you. It’s been awhile since I was in that ass of yours.”

  A sharp thrill cut through Chance’s body and he held back a whimper of need at the thought of Angel’s cock shoved deep inside him. They had been doing a lot of experimenting between them to discover what worked best, although they still hadn’t come across a definitive answer and really felt no need to. There was no need to define themselves inside the bedroom.

  With his dick throbbing against his leg, Chance loosened his grip slightly on Angel so that he could brace against the bed and roll over. Angel straddled him as he lay on his back, and they kissed again hard before Angel started sliding down his body.

  Chance arched his back, lightly thrusting his cock against Angel’s muscular body. He writhed softly with pleasure, without any of the worry and anxious anticipation that he once had. They fit together, every part of their bodies together exactly perfect.

  Angel slid his tongue down and around Chance’s nipples, trailing wet heat as he went. Chance slid his hands over Angel’s back, stroking him and caressing everywhere he could reach.

  “I love you,” he murmured.

  “I love you, too,” Angel whispered. He slid down lower and lower until his tongue touched Chance’s groin. Then, his licks turned to steady kisses that marched all the way up his dick and ended at the very tip. Gasping, Chance pressed his ass down against the mattress and prepared to thrust upwards when Angel suddenly moved up over him again. The soft heat on his dick was replaced with wet, heated pressure against his ready ass opening.

  “Yes,” he breathed, just as Angel’s dick started to slide inside him.

  Suddenly, a silver shape landed hard on Chance’s face. He gasped, flinching. Every muscle in his entire body went tight, earning a startled yelp from Angel as he pulled away just in time to avoid being crushed.

  “Meow!” said the scruffy cat, fur fluffed up demandingly. His luminous eyes spoke volumes of annoyance at not being the center of attention.

  Chance patted the cat on the top of the head and then tried to push him away so they could resume. It was a useless gesture, because the feline went limp on his chest and would not be budged.

  Angel rolled his eyes and picked up the cat by the scruff on the back of its neck. “You almost got me killed, Smoky,” he grumbled, shuffling off the bed to drop the cat down outside the bedroom. He shut the door and then stopped by the dresser. “I guess it’s okay. He did remind me that I forgot the lube.”

  Chance giggled a little. “Smoky probably knows exactly what’s going on.” The tom cat had latched onto them one day during a walk, and they were powerless to resist his charms. “All those feral lady cats.”

  Angel slid back up onto the bed, rubbing lube between his fingers to warm it up before sliding his hand down to Chance’s ass. “Well, good for him. All I know right now is I just want the man in my bed, feral or otherwise.”

  Chance ground his ass against Angel’s fingers, pulling at his dick softly with one hand while the other made sure they were both ready.

  Angel straightened up again and pressed his thankfully-unharmed tip hard against Chance’s ass. Chance pressed against it, welcoming it deeply inside his body. They slid together, Angel’s hard cock spearing him, filling him deliciously. His body writhed, already spasming with pleasure; in his grasp, his dick trembled and twitched with barely restrained pressure.

  “That’s it, Chance,” Angel grunted, holding his hips and starting to move inside him. Their bodies rocked together with thrusting, Angel’s hips slapping lightly against his ass. “Make yourself cum for me. Give me your cum, all over me!”

  Chance closed his eyes, losing himself in their rhythm that they made together. His mouth opened, hot breaths escaping his lungs. His heart pounded, and his dick jumped again in his hand. He tightened his ass muscles just slightly, enough to better feel the shape of Angel’s dick thrusting harder inside him. With both hands now, he held his own dick and started to pull on it even harder. His head tossed back, his hips bucked, and burning droplets raced down the back of his hand.

  “Ah…Angel…”

  “Come on, baby,” Angel murmured. “Give it to me.”

  Angel pulled almost all the way out of him, and then shoved back hard inside. Every ounce of his strength went into that single thrust, forcing Chance hard over the edge. Their hands tightened, Angel’s nails bit into his hips and Chance held his cock in a death-grip as spurts of cum splattered against the other man’s washboard stomach.

  With a groan, Angel orgasmed. His body shook and rocked with the force of it, and Chance let it move him as well.

  Then it was over and they lay breathlessly together with Angel’s limp, soft cock still inside Chance’s ass. He didn’t mind. In fact, he rather liked it. It made him feel like they were even closer than ever.

  Angel softly kissed his cheek and then lay his head on Chance’s shoulder. To Chance, that was everything. He was in bed with his boyfriend, in an apartment they shared, with a scruffy stray cat ruling over all of it. Finally, he was where he belonged.

  The End

  Sensational Sinners

  Peter Styles

  © 2017

  Disclaimer

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, ex
cept in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and events are all fictitious for the reader’s pleasure. Any similarities to real people, places, events, living or dead are all coincidental.

  This book contains sexually explicit content that is intended for ADULTS ONLY (+18).

  Chapter 1: Old Fashioned Chemistry

  Wyatt nervously busied himself by scrolling through his phone as he waited. Of course, he had arrived too early; he always did when he was anxious. He was fending off the desire to step out for a cigarette with a Cuba Libre, not wanting to endure the bitter winds of the northwestern city. His eyes flickered to the time on the upper right-hand corner of his screen for the millionth time, noting that there were only a couple of minutes left until their scheduled meet-up time. Wyatt opened Grindr, his app of choice for hookups, and went to his messages.

  Lincoln Prescott. God, that was a posh name. When he had first messaged Wyatt, he hadn’t wanted to respond since Lincoln didn’t have a profile picture. But, Lincoln had offered to video chat with him to prove he was real. That was why Wyatt was so nervous—Lincoln was ridiculously hot. His other meet-ups had been with guys that were rather average, so he had been comfortable and confident. Lincoln though, was on a whole other level. Tucking his phone into his pocket, Wyatt took a deep gulp of his refreshing, heady drink. It was just casual sex; there was no reason to get so worked up about it.

  “Getting started without me?” a deep, husky voice purred from behind him.

  He turned his head to see Lincoln approaching the bar, wearing a smirk on his face. Wyatt’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of him. He was even more beautiful in person. Lincoln was built like a professional athlete, filling out his dark gray suit perfectly. His tanned complexion was flawless, contrasting perfectly with his vibrant lime green eyes as well as his tousled raven curls and stubble. His bone structure was impeccable, his lips full and nose straight. Why in the hell did he pick me? Wyatt found himself wondering. Wyatt’s lips curled into a nervous smile, “Ah, just a bit.”

  Lincoln sat down on the bar stool next to him, “It’s alright, I’ll forgive you this time,” he said, with a wink. The gesture sent butterflies soaring through Wyatt’s stomach, causing him to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling like a fool. Lincoln then turned to the bartender, grabbing his attention before asking for an Old Fashioned.

  “Interesting drink of choice. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone order one of those but my granddad,” Wyatt joked. He had always been the type to find comfort in humor, even if some of the time it ended up with his foot in his mouth.

  Lincoln glanced down to Wyatt’s drink, noting the lime wedge floating in the dark, fizzy liquid. “You’re going to critique my choice of drink?” Lincoln fired right back, a humorous gleam in his eyes.

  “Calls ‘em as I sees ‘em,” Wyatt grinned.

  He chuckled then, the sound giving Wyatt goosebumps. Lincoln’s voice was so deep and pleasant, making his laugh sound sultry and intoxicating. It was inevitable that Wyatt was going to make a fool of himself at some point, knowing he was going to do anything he could think of to hear more of his laughter. “You’re cute,” Lincoln said, at the end of his chuckle.

  “I guess you’re not too shabby yourself,” Wyatt smirked.

  “Think so, huh?” Lincoln challenged, raising a brow at him.

  “I suppose. I’m not entirely convinced yet though.”

  His lips pulled into a smirk. “What would it take to convince you?” Lincoln questioned before taking a sip of his Old Fashioned.

  “Well, what do you do for a living?”

  Lincoln’s bright green eyes shimmered with curiosity. “What does my job have to do with my level of attractiveness?”

  “It plays a heavier hand than you expect. If you were, say… a garbageman, you would definitely be the most well-dressed and sexiest one I have ever seen. But, if you were an actor or supermodel, you’d be on par,” Wyatt humorously explained.

  He gave another throaty chuckle. “And if I’m a marketing executive?”

  Wyatt was the one to give a curious look then. “Are you trying to live the life of Mad Men?” Lincoln was a well-dressed, handsome, marketing executive drinking an Old Fashioned. “Gotta say, you are one dedicated fan.”

  “Such a smartass,” Lincoln laughed. It pleased Wyatt to see that he could take a joke rather than just get offended. Wyatt’s sense of humor was probably one of the primary aspects of his personality that kept him single. People just couldn’t take a joke anymore.

  “At least I’m smart, right?” he chuckled.

  “At least,” Lincoln smiled. “What about you, hotshot? What do you do for a living?”

  “Part-time bum, part-time graphic designer,” Wyatt replied. When Lincoln furrowed his brow, Wyatt explained, “I’ve had some pretty good luck in my field, so I don’t work much. When I do work, it’s from home.”

  “I knew you would be the artsy type.”

  “Oh?” Wyatt questioned. “Do I just ooze artistic ability?”

  “I think maybe you do,” Lincoln started, polishing off his Old Fashioned and signaling the bartender to refreshen both of their drinks. He turned back to Wyatt, scanning him from head to toe, making Wyatt shift his gaze away. It wasn’t that he had low self-esteem, but he admittedly was a little self-conscious in Lincoln’s presence. He was naturally lean, being lanky with a bit of muscle to him but not much. His natural blond hair was bleached to a pure white, which paired well with his cerulean blue eyes. Wyatt was as sharp of a dresser as Lincoln, but he was dressed fashionably in fitted black jeans, a t-shirt, leather jacket and ankle boots. He knew he was a decent-looking guy, but he viewed Lincoln as being out of his league. His mind couldn’t help but contemplate why a man like him wasn’t already tied down. Perhaps he was just the player type, one who didn’t want to settle down. There was nothing wrong with that, but it had to be lonely. Wyatt definitely was, but it wasn’t for lack of trying to find someone. “Would I recognize any of your work?” Lincoln asked.

  Lincoln’s sensual voice cut through Wyatt’s distracting thoughts, bringing him back to the present. “Trying to solicit a commission from me?” he questioned in a joking fashion, then tutting and shaking his head, “You can’t afford me, Mr. Prescott.”

  Lincoln’s eyes darkened at the end of Wyatt’s comment, his expression degrading into a smug look. “I don’t think you know that for certain.”

  “I do,” he stated matter-of-factly, Lincoln’s face growing skeptical. “I’m priceless,” Wyatt explained with a wink.

  Lincoln was in a fit of laughter, shaking his head and elbowing Wyatt’s side, “God, you’re a mess, aren’t you?”

  “Guilty as charged,” Wyatt chuckled, a light blush coming to his pale cheeks. “But the world is so fucked up that, if we don’t keep laughing, we’re all going to become like self-aware robots that kill themselves. So I’m just here to maintain the population.”

  Clearly, Lincoln was tickled by Wyatt, the smile never faltering from his lips. “Saving lives one joke at a time?”

  “Precisely,” Wyatt avowed.

  The bartender returned with their drinks. Lincoln raised his glass in the air to make a toast, “Thanks for saving my life. Cheers to you.”

  He laughed boisterously, clinking his glass to Lincoln’s, “To me.” Wyatt sat the glass down after having a drink, his eyes returning to Lincoln. “I have to know. What’s the deal with no profile picture?” he asked, curiously. The question had burned away in the back of his mind since they had first video-chatted.

  Lincoln’s shoulders lifted in a shrug, his expression staying calm and pleasant. “My job requires me to keep a certain level of privacy. I don’t want people having pictures of me and slandering me in some way.”

  “How do you know they don’t just screenshot your picture when you video-call them
, then?” Wyatt challenged, curiously.

  “When someone takes a screenshot, it makes a noise, so I can hear it through the call usually. When I meet up with the guy, I ask him kindly to delete it. You’d be surprised at how easily people listen when they are embarrassed,” he explained to Wyatt, chuckling lightly at the end of his spiel.

  “So how do I know you are really who you say you are, if I don’t have any way to identify you?” Wyatt questioned.

  “That’s part of the mystery of me,” Lincoln winked.

  Another laugh passed Wyatt’s lips, “Damn, that was surprisingly charming.”

  “I happen to be a charming man,” he mockingly boasted.

  “Apparently so,” Wyatt sighed, dreamily.

  Lincoln took a sip of his drink, stirring around the fruit garnish before looking back to Wyatt. “What is someone like you doing on Grindr?”

  “Doing what everyone else is, I suppose,” Wyatt ribbed.

  “I mean, how hasn’t someone snatched you up? Are you secretly crazy or something? I just want to know, for my own safety,” he flirted, openly.

  How hasn’t someone snatched me up? Wyatt repeated in his head, utterly shocked that someone like Lincoln would be asking him that. He tried to act confident, though replying, “I don’t know why I’m not in a relationship yet, honestly. Some speculate it’s my armor of sarcasm and dry humor. Others believe the problem to be connected to my hermit-like tendencies.”

  “I like the sarcasm,” Lincoln purred, his arm extending and resting on the back of Wyatt’s bar stool. “So you’re a homebody?”

  “Definitely. My apartment is my hideaway. Usually I only go out for errands and then arrangements such as this one.”

  Lincoln smirked smugly, “I’m honored to be one of the reasons you’ve left your apartment today.”

  “As you should be. I don’t leave it for just anyone,” Wyatt joked.