Tied to Trouble (Gamers)

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Tied to Trouble (Gamers) Page 7

by Megan Erickson


  “Chad, I don’t think Austin wants to know how big your dick is.”

  The man was in front of him now, crushing the notebook to Owen’s chest so he was forced to stop writing and look up into Chad’s face. Chad was smirking, damn it, like he always did. He leaned in, so his breath fanned Owen’s face. “Actually, I’m hard now. Measure for yourself.”

  Owen glared, despite his pants getting a little tight. “Do you ever think of anything other than sex?”

  Chad ran a finger down Owen’s throat. “Not when you’re around, wearing that damn bow tie.”

  He swallowed. “My bow tie gets you hard?”

  Chad shook his head then took two steps back and shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Nah, the thought of taking it off you gets me hard.”

  And then he turned around and twirled a finger in the air. “Let’s wrap this up, O. Got things to do, bow ties to untie, know what I mean?” He winked at him over his shoulder as he walked away.

  An hour and a half later, they were at the lesser-known and lesser-visited Charity Woods Park. The sun was setting, throwing the sky into a mix of reds and pinks and oranges.

  Owen finished taking pictures and slipped his cell phone into his pocket. Chad was on the stage, pretending to perform a monologue. He watched him for a minute as he stretched his hand into the sky and bellowed something with a bad British accent.

  “Are you done?” Owen called.

  Chad straightened and motioned for Owen to join him. Owen shook his head and Chad rolled his eyes. “Come on.”

  “This park isn’t as clean as the others. And these are my work clothes.”

  “I’ll buy you new pants if something happens to yours, ya priss, now get the fuck up here.”

  Owen sighed and hauled himself up onto the platform, careful not to let his pants touch the dusty wooden floor of the stage. A now-defunct theater group used to hold productions at Charity Woods, but now the stage in the far corner of the park sat mostly unused. A stone monolith. Sometimes a small folk band performed, but it was a hike from the main area of the park. There was only a small parking lot nearby.

  They were alone, the sun was setting, and Owen hadn’t forgotten that Chad wanted to untie his bow tie.

  Chad leaned against the side column of the stage as he gazed around him. “You know, I get that this is the most decrepit of all the ones we’ve seen, but doesn’t that fit the theme?”

  Owen had been thinking the same thing, but he thought Chad might mock him for it. “Yeah, it does, actually.”

  Aric’s Revenge, set in a medieval fantasy world, was the story of a man who sought revenge on the king who stole his wife. In the end, he conquered his enemy—along with the help of some dragons—reclaimed his wife, and took over his enemy’s kingdom. Because of the little dragon issue, the castle Aric took over was quite damaged.

  Chad tapped his boot on the floor. “Maybe cover this with some hay or something? Set up some old-timey lanterns.”

  Owen nodded. “I like those ideas.”

  Chad’s lips turned up. “I’m good for something other than a blow job, huh?”

  The self-deprecating humor had been funny at first, but now Owen was wondering how much Chad believed in what he was passing off as a joke.

  Owen clenched his jaw. He needed to quit analyzing the other man. He wasn’t his problem. Chad was a grown man who could take care of himself and his own self-esteem issues.

  Owen stepped toward Chad, loving the way the sun cast his skin in warm tones. He smiled with intent, and Chad must have noticed, because he settled his back against the wall and arched his neck, watching Owen approach through lowered eyelids.

  Owen gripped his hip, slipping his thumb under his T-shirt to rub that smooth skin where it dipped below his hip bone. “I don’t know. You’re pretty good for this, too.” He kissed him then, forcefully, so Chad’s head fell back against the stone column behind him. He liked it, though, or at least he seemed to, because he moaned in Owen’s mouth and reached up, cupping Owen’s jaw, pulling him close like he wanted to melt into him.

  Those hands wandered down Owen’s neck as they drank from each other, then lower still, until they were tugging on the bow tie around his neck, loosening it, until the two ends hung down by his collar. The air cooled his bare neck as Chad undid his top button and ran a finger along the base of his throat.

  Chad pulled back, licking those full, wet, swollen lips. He pressed his forehead to Owen’s as their hips churned and their feet moved restlessly. Owen palmed Chad’s ass and squeezed. Chad’s hands were going lower now, until he opened Owen’s belt and stuck his hand inside to wrap his fingers around Owen’s shaft.

  “Fuck,” Owen muttered.

  Chad stroked once then locked gazes with Owen from under his lashes. “You trust me?”

  Owen scrambled for his brain to catch up, which was hard, because every thought was pretty much centered in his dick right now. “What?”

  “Do you trust me?”

  He blinked. “Do I trust you how?”

  It was Chad’s turn to blink. “To make you feel good.”

  Owen moaned when Chad stroked him again. That question he could answer with certainty. “God, yes.”

  Chad grinned, whipped off the bow tie from around Owen’s neck and then dropped to his knees. Owen slapped a hand on the wall above Chad’s head, needing to hold onto something as Chad pulled his pants down to midthigh. Then that talented mouth was sucking Owen’s balls into his mouth, rolling them around on his tongue, and Owen bit his lip to keep from yelling.

  He reached down and fisted Chad’s hair as that mouth left his balls and moved on to his shaft. Chad gave the tip a kiss with a wink, and lapped at the slit.

  Then he leaned back and with a startling efficiency, tied the bow tie at the root of Owen’s cock.

  Owen’s green, polka-dotted bow tie was around his dick. Like a nerdy cock ring. And it was actually pretty fucking hot.

  Chad sat back on his heels, admiring his handiwork, then he lifted his gaze to Owen’s. He rose slowly to his feet, so he stood in the middle of Owen’s hands, which were braced on the wall. Chad then turned around and lowered his jeans.

  Owen’s breath left his lungs in a whoosh. Commando. Chad was fucking commando. And his ass was perfection. Completely. Round and firm and begging for Owen to touch. To kiss. To lick.

  To fuck.

  Chad moved his feet apart as far as his pants at his knees would allow. He placed his hands on the wall inside Owen’s then looked over his shoulder. “I want you to fuck me like that.”

  Owen might come right there. Just like that. Without touching his dick. Without touching Chad. Because the sight of his bow-tied cock rubbing along Chad’s perfect ass, that hazel gaze daring him…well, it was a little much.

  He reached out and palmed Chad’s ass, who moaned a little and arched into his touch.

  “We’re in a public park.”

  “No one’s here.” Chad’s eyes sparked. “Live a little, O.”

  Owen leaned down and bit the side of Chad’s neck, unable to stop both his hands from caressing Chad’s ass. “We could get arrested. I want a bed. I want to take my time.”

  Chad wiggled his ass, so Owen’s cock snugged into his crease. “Aw, man. We both know we’re not that couple. We don’t fuck nice and slow in a bed.”

  “I already told you what it’ll be like when I fuck you. And this isn’t it.”

  “Yeah?” Chad said breathlessly, grinding his hips back in to Owen. “Then how ’bout we do it your way next time?”

  Owen rested his forehead on the nape of Chad’s neck. “The things you make me do,” he said, knowing he was giving in, but he couldn’t help it, because this was thrilling and naughty and he’d been dreaming about his cock in Chad’s ass since day one.

  “Don’t act innocent back there, Mr. Bow Tie. You make me do these things to you.”

  Owen looked down at his dick, sliding in the crease of Chad’s ass, slick with precome
, the bow tie obscenely wrapped around the root. He wanted this. He wanted Chad. And he wanted him now.

  He reached around and fisted Chad’s cock. “Need a condom.”

  Chad bent down and dug around in the pocket of his jeans. He handed Owen a condom and a small sachet of lube. “Haven’t carried this shit around in my pockets in months. This is because of you, Mr. Turtle Bow Tie.”

  “We’ll see who’s the turtle when I’m fucking your brains out,” Owen muttered as he unwrapped the condom.

  Chad grinned. “I’m counting on it.”

  …

  This was straight out of a fantasy Chad hadn’t known he had. That bow tie on that monster dick had Chad so hard, he worried he’d shoot as soon as Owen got inside him.

  He heard the sound of Owen slicking up his condom-covered cock with lube, then a hand landed on his hip, and a slick finger ran from behind his balls to circle his hole. He sucked in a breath and pressed his forehead to the wall as Owen continued that slow torture, loosening the muscles.

  Chad couldn’t stop his hips from churning, easing back, wanting that finger to slip inside…

  The hand on his hip tightened, and Owen’s voice was firm. “My pace.”

  He growled. “Just do it already.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You won’t.”

  “I want it to feel good.”

  “It will.”

  That finger pressed, and Chad moaned.

  “Do you have an answer to every question?” Owen asked.

  He was having a hard time thinking now, because that finger was slipping inside, up to the first knuckle, and it’d been a long time, a really long time…

  “Not so mouthy now, are you?”

  Owen was talking. Chad was supposed to talk back, right? He licked his lips, but no sound was coming out, nothing, because that finger was moving agonizingly slow inside. Chad had always thought he liked fast and hard and rough, but that sure hand on his hip and the slow torture of Owen’s finger was all he could focus on, all he could think about.

  He was consumed with it.

  There was more pressure, and he thought there was another finger now. A voice cried out, and he realized it was his as that hand left his hip and caressed his back and ass and thighs. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” a voice chanted, and who would have thought? Because that was Chad’s voice. That was him, slowly being driven out of his mind by Owen.

  “You are so tight, Chad, goddamn,” Owen muttered. “I want to make sure you’re loose enough for me.”

  “Right,” Chad was able to gasp. “Because your dick is a fucking monster.”

  “But he’s a gentleman monster, thanks to you.”

  Chad barked out a hoarse laugh. “Oh, shit, you’re making a sex joke. Good for you, O—oh.” His voice cut off as the pressure increased, and Owen brushed over his prostate, sending Chad’s vision wonky.

  “Still wish we were in a bed,” Owen muttered.

  Chad struggled to breathe, let alone talk. “I never thought we’d fuck first in a bed.”

  “Oh, so we’re public fuckers?”

  “No, we’re forget-the-bed, gotta-have-you-now fuckers.”

  Owen didn’t answer for a while, and those fingers kept up that delicious torture. Finally, he answered, “Yeah, we’re definitely that.”

  “Now fuck me,” Chad said around a moan.

  Those fingers were gone then, and something much bigger was pressing against him. Chad curled his fingers into fists. He preferred to bottom, but it’d been a long time since he’d been with a man. His last couple of partners were women, and he was a little out of practice, and Owen was by far the largest man he’d ever been with.

  A hand stroked his back. “Breathe, Chad.”

  “Tryin’,” he answered on a grunt as the head of Owen’s cock slipped past the first ring of muscle.

  Chad turned his head and bit his fist, squeezing his eyes shut as Owen continued to press forward. The hands on Chad’s hip and back were shaking a little, so Chad knew he wasn’t the only one being affected by this.

  The heat and the pressure and the feeling of someone else inside him. It was a lot. It’d always been a lot. So why did it feel like so much more with Owen? And by more, he didn’t mean Owen’s girth.

  Owen’s breath was coming fast now; Chad could feel it on the sweat-slicked skin on the back of his neck. And then Chad’s body gave way to the intrusion, and Owen sank in to the hilt.

  Owen’s breath stuttered. Chad released his breath in a gush. The hardness inside him pulsed, and he could feel the soft silk of the bow tie on the sensitive skin where Owen had entered him.

  Owen’s voice was low. “You ready for my pace?”

  “Bring it,” Chad answered through clenched teeth.

  Owen took his time, pulling back and pushing in, again and again. Each time, the head of his cock rubbed along Chad’s prostate, but it wasn’t enough, he needed harder, more, and he was just about to ask for it, demand it, when Owen reared back one last time and then surged into Chad so hard, his head clunked against the stone.

  But Owen wasn’t stopping now. He plunged into Chad’s body again and again. Chad locked his arms to brace himself against the wall so he didn’t get a concussion because yes, yes, yes, this was what he wanted, this thrusting, this claiming. And fuck, he hadn’t known Owen had this in him. This strength. This passion.

  Or maybe he did know, maybe he’d known all along this intensity lurked beneath the surface and that was why he’d been so drawn to Owen. Either way, he was getting the fuck of his life from the nerdiest guy he’d ever met, who currently wore a green, polka-dot bow tie around his dick.

  Chad hadn’t realized he had a nerd kink.

  Or a bow tie kink.

  But he did.

  “So this is what you’re like once that bow tie comes off, huh?” Chad panted.

  Owen gripped the hair at the back of Chad’s head and tugged, so Chad was pulled upright and Owen could hiss in his ear, “You never shut up, do you?”

  “You trying to fuck the words out of my mouth?”

  Owen’s laugh was shaky. “I don’t know. This is what we do, snap at each other.”

  “And this,” Chad said. “We do this.”

  A hand left his hip and curled around his cock, then began to stroke. “Yeah, we do. We do this. And we do it so well.”

  “So well,” Chad moaned, unable to do much but parrot words. Because he was going to come. Right here, in this park on a decrepit stage with Owen behind him, fucking him like a possessed man. Like the Dapper Dick himself. “Close,” Chad murmured. “I’m close.”

  Owen’s lips were at Chad’s ear, sucking on the rim, biting the shell, pressing hot, wet kisses on his neck. “Me, too. You feel so good.”

  “You do, too.”

  “Squeezing me like you don’t want to let me go. You want to let me go, Chad?”

  No, no, he didn’t. But he wasn’t going to say that.

  Owen was still able to talk, somehow. “Not sure I want to let you go. Or let you come.”

  Please was on the tip of his tongue. He never begged. Ever. But damn it, he was aching, hurting, and Owen had the power to fix that. Only Owen.

  “Should I?” Owen asked. “Put us both out of our misery?”

  Chad tried to swallow, but his throat was dry. “Yes.” He just barely clamped his lips shut before saying please.

  “You first,” Owen whispered.

  “No, you.”

  Owen laughed. “You should see what this looks like, me fucking you with this bow tie wrapped around my dick. It looks so hot, Chad, watching you take me like this.”

  Chad made a strangled sound, and then with one last flick of Owen’s wrist he was coming, coming, and he might have cried out, he wasn’t sure, because Owen fucked him through it, and when Chad whimpered at the harsh grip on his spent cock, Owen was coming, too, releasing himself into the condom inside Chad, that gorgeous big dick pulsing.

  And then there
was silence. Except for heavy breathing and the rustled fabric of their clothes as they shifted to get more comfortable.

  Chad exhaled as Owen slipped from his body, and he stayed slumped against the wall, his forehead resting on his fist to the sounds of Owen getting dressed. But Chad couldn’t move, and he knew he’d be sore once he did, so he was just going to lean here. For a while. With his pants down.

  But Owen had other ideas. Chad’s pants were pulled up, and then he was turned, gently. He stared at the top of Owen’s bent head as the other man pulled up the zipper of his jeans and buckled his belt, redressing Chad in a way he normally would have hated, but now he just felt…taken care of.

  And that was a new fucking concept.

  Owen lifted his head, meeting Chad’s gaze, and they stared at each other for a moment. Chad reached out a hand and brushed a strand of hair that had escaped from its hair-sprayed home. He didn’t talk. Because he didn’t know what to say. What they’d just done shouldn’t have been anything. It should have been all it was, a fuck in a park with a guy that turned his crank like no other.

  But this was confusing, this warmth in his chest. And that warmth got even more confusing when Owen stuffed his hand down one of Chad’s jeans pockets. Chad looked down, at the scrap of green that peeked out.

  He glanced at Owen, whose expression was the softest Chad had ever seen. He looked sated and relaxed and content. Unguarded. Chad wasn’t sure he deserved unguarded Owen. “You’re giving me your bow tie?”

  Owen’s lips tilted. “You think I’ll ever be able to wear that thing knowing what we did?”

  Chad stuffed it farther down into his pocket. “Why, because it’s soiled now? Tainted? You can just wash it.”

  Owen tongued the corner of his mouth. “No, because I’ll be hard all day thinking about doing it again. And that’s pretty unprofessional.” He leaned in, hesitated, then pressed a kiss to Chad’s lips. When he spoke again, his voice was uncertain. “You, uh, want to grab some food?”

  Chad was fucking starving, but no way was he going to sit through dinner and awkward conversation knowing what they’d done and with the bow tie that was in his pocket. He needed time away to gather himself and glue back together all the little bits and pieces of himself that Owen seemed to shatter every time he saw him. He shook his head and lied, “Nah, I got plans.”

 

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