After instructing Mohammed and Emma to bring the rest of the food and drinks, Parveen headed out onto the lanai and to the attractively set table. It took only seconds for her to mention Emma’s news to her husband as Mohammed and Emma claimed their seats.
“That’s great news,” Patrick said. “Please give our congratulations.”
“I will,” Emma chimed. “I’m so excited for them.”
“It’s an exciting time,” Parveen said. “Where are they getting married? Have they decided yet?”
As Patrick took the hamburgers and hotdogs off the grill, placing them on a plate and setting them in the middle of the table, he said, “It looks like we’re going to have to listen to marriage talk, Mohammed.”
Before Mohammed could answer his father, Parveen swatted her husband’s arm before sitting. “I remember you being involved in our wedding plans. You loved every minute of it. Admit it.”
“Maybe every other minute,” Patrick said, a sly grin on his face.
Parveen leaned forward in her seat. “Don’t let him fool you,” she whispered conspiratorially to Emma. “He’s even more romantic than I am. He even cries during movies.”
“Don’t believe a word she says,” Patrick defended. “I’ve only cried at one movie, and that was because I thought Nemo was going to die.”
Mohammed stifled his laughter. “I almost cried too, Dad.”
Ignoring the men, Parveen continued asking questions. “Is this a formal affair or casual one?”
Emma selected a burger and scooped out some salad, placing them on her plate. “I’m not so sure, but I heard something about a beach wedding, possibly. Unlike my brother, his fiancée, Brooke is not so serious. She softens his sharp edges. I like her.”
“Will you be in the wedding?” Parveen asked.
“I suspect so.” Emma flicked her shoulder-length hair, the glossy strands catching the sunlight. “If she does get married on the beach, I think I’ll wear my hair up. It tends to frizz with the sea air.”
Parveen nodded. “Mine does too.”
Patrick tossed his head back, making a show of it. “Gosh, don’t you hate it when that happens.”
When Parveen went to swat her husband, Patrick saw it coming this time. He jerked his arm out of the way before she made contact. “A woman must look her best at all times. Isn’t that right, Emma? It’s easy for men. Quick shower and shave and you’re finished, but us…” She shook her head. “We don’t have it so easy.”
“I know,” Emma added. “It really isn’t fair. It takes Mohammed five minutes to get ready when we go out, and it takes me at least a half hour to blow dry and flat iron my hair, and that’s moving quickly.”
Parveen patted her hair. “I didn’t bother this afternoon since I knew we’d be out here. Does my hair look like an explosion?”
Patrick leaned over and kissed her with ketchup lips on her cheek. “You’re beautiful even if your hair is all over the place.”
“Ignore him, Mom,” Mohammed said. “You look great. Always do.”
“Thank you, my son,” Parveen said. “You know who else looks great? Emma.”
Mohammed and Patrick both mumbled in agreement, their mouths full.
“You look as if you’re glowing.” Parveen’s eyes flitted over the couple seated across from her. “Is that the only news you have to report?”
“Yes, Mom,” Mohammed answered for Emma. “And can we please talk about something else? I’m getting bored with our current topic.”
“Don’t be rude,” Parveen said. “The news of a wedding is something to celebrate.”
“Yes,” Mohammed agreed. “And we have, so let’s move on.”
“As long as you two talk about it, then I’ll be more than happy to change the subject.” Parveen inclined her head. “But just make sure I’m the first to know if there are any noteworthy changes in your relationship.”
“Yep. Sure thing,” Mohammed replied through a mouthful.
The rest of the meal, they chatted about holiday plans, winter break, and future classes that would start quicker than Mohammed wanted. He wasn’t sure if he imagined it, but he couldn’t fight the sense that they were only going through the motions of having a good time, their earlier conversation and his annoyed, if not angry, reaction placing a damper on the rest of the afternoon. After clearing up, he looked at his watch, noticing that he had forty-five minutes to say his good-byes—which could take some time—and drive Emma back home before meeting up with Isaac. It was exactly what he needed to forget about the stressful get-together, to lose himself in all the things Isaac was able and willing to do with him.
Chapter Five
It was as if time was stuck in quicksand.
Every time Isaac checked the digital clock on the register, he could have sworn it kept reading the same thing. If eight didn’t roll around soon, he was going to scream and then hang himself by a jeans leg on an exposed steel rafter.
But he didn’t want to kill himself.
What he wanted was Mohammed.
He helped two customers who were slightly on the needy side, which made twenty minutes roll by. And when he checked the last customer out and looked at the time, there were only four minutes to go. Four excruciating minutes. That was if Mohammed was planning to show. That thought made him want to vomit up the contents of his stomach. Swallowing hard and fighting nausea, Isaac looked at the monitor again. Still four fucking minutes!
* * * *
Mohammed spotted Isaac through the glass front of the store. Even the end of day smudges couldn’t detract from his stunning good looks. He felt a punch to his gut as he stopped just short of the store’s entrance.
Can I go through with this?
Two women chatting amicably passed by, giving him a second glance, their hands clutching numerous pastel-colored bags from many different stores. He willed his feet to move before he attracted even more unwanted attention. They felt leaden, and his breathing labored. Get a grip.
He concentrated on the most basic things like breathing and walking at a normal pace until he was standing less than a foot away from Isaac, who seemed too preoccupied with the monitor on his cash register to notice him. Short of passing out, Mohammed wondered how he could get his attention without appearing too eager. Throat clearing had always worked in the past.
Isaac looked up, and his breath stuck in his throat. He stared into those eyes that made his brain go blank for more than a few seconds. When he was able to form a thought or just a word, he managed, “Mohammed.”
He had changed into the sweater he had bought that afternoon, and it looked better on him than Isaac had imagined. He realized that his smile was wavering, a nervous tick in his upper lip that he never could seem to control when he was under stress. The handsome man who was staring back at him seemed cool, reserved, and perfect in every way. If Mohammed was nervous, it didn’t show.
“Did you think I wouldn’t come?”
“Only for a minute or two.”
His smile was sexy but oddly genuine and borderline calming.
“Which begs the question,” Isaac said. “Why did you?”
“Would you like me to leave?” He pointed to the door. “All I have to do is walk that way, and we can forget all about this.”
“No. I want you here. I was the one who asked, remember?”
“Not something I’d likely forget.”
“Where’s—”
“Let’s not talk about Emma. She has nothing to do with this, with you and me.”
Isaac didn’t see it that simply, but if Mohammed didn’t have guilt for what he was about to do, then why should he? “We’ll be closing soon, and I told my manager that I’d shut down everything. I’ve pulled most of the reports and the official stuff that goes along with end of day duties, so I won’t be long.”
Mohammed looked around. “I’m sure I can keep myself occupied.”
“I like the sweater on you, by the way. Brings out your eyes.”
He ran
his hand down the tight fit of the soft fabric. “I wore this for you. Wanted you to see what it looked like on me.” His dark, thick brow arched, adding to his air of confidence and sexiness. “I’m glad you approve.”
Isaac’s throat tightened with lust. He wanted to be as smooth and unscripted as Mohammed, but it wasn’t in his DNA. “I do” was the best he could manage.
After closing the door and locking it, shutting down the two registers, and calling in the day’s sales numbers, Isaac met Mohammed on the sales floor. He had a striped tank draped over his shoulder. “I wanted to get this earlier today but didn’t know if it would look good on me. Do you mind if I try it on?”
“Sure.” Isaac walked Mohammed to a cluster of dressing rooms at the back of the store, which resembled mirrored closets rather than rooms. He selected and unlocked one. “Here you are.”
When Mohammed walked by, Isaac didn’t expect to feel the weight of his body brush against his own. It was silly, he knew, but he still was in work mode, and the spine-tingling connection took him off guard. Isaac felt the heat rising within him as he went to shut the door.
“Why are you doing that?” Mohammed asked.
“Doing what?”
“You’ve seen me naked,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Plus, no one else is here so who is going to see?”
“Y–yes,” Isaac stuttered. “I guess you’re right.”
He watched as Mohammed stripped off his sweater, exposing smooth, tanned skin that glowed in the yellow lighting of the dressing room. He had dark curling hair that filled the area between his nipples, and a slim trail ran the length of his abdomen and disappeared into his waistband.
Mohammed tossed the sweater at Isaac. “Hold this.”
The sweater felt warm and possessed Mohammed’s masculine scent, a blend of soap, cologne, and man. His muscles rippled as the tank slid over his body, Isaac catching a glimpse of furry armpits. Isaac tugged at his collar as Mohamed half spun then did his best strongman routine, flexing biceps. He was the most beautiful man he had ever seen. And he knew that he was about to make the biggest mistake of his life.
“Do I look sexy?”
“More than you’ll ever know.” He sounded winded, and he hadn’t exerted himself.
“If you say it brings out my eyes, I’ll punch you.”
“It brings out your other assets.”
Mohammed stopped flexing and looked at Isaac longingly. “Why did you want me to meet you here specifically?”
Isaac blinked once, twice, his brain wiped of any thought for what felt like an eternity.
Before he could recover and give an answer, Mohammed yanked Isaac into the space, which was tight for two men, and shut the door behind him. In seconds, Mohammed’s tank was on the floor along with the sweater Isaac had just been holding.
“Was it because you wanted to fulfill a fantasy that I could help you with?” Mohammed was standing so close that he could feel his hot, sweet breath against his face.
“Yes,” he answered with a curt nod. “I’ve always wanted to … you know … do this. In here.”
Mohammed’s hands moved quickly, untucking Isaac’s shirt from his pants. He started to unbutton from the top. “We don’t have a lot of room, but I don’t think we’ll need much, do you?” Mohammed’s fingers tickled Isaac’s skin as he plucked all the buttons open.
“No,” Isaac said, now able to shrug out of his shirt and allow it to puddle to the floor.
Mohammed ran his gaze over Isaac’s naked chest. He felt exposed but more emotionally than physically.
“I don’t look as good as you.”
Mohammed shushed Isaac as his hands caressed him tenderly, moving from shoulders to chest and stopping with both hands around his waist. Isaac felt drugged and dreamy in the mirrored room, his image duplicating itself over and over and over, appearing seemingly endless. Limitless.
“You are amazing.” Mohammed’s voice was a throaty growl, rough with sex. “I thought so from the first day of class.”
“You did?” Isaac didn’t hide his surprise. “But I never saw you looking at me.”
“Guess you didn’t look at the right times.” Mohammed forcibly pulled Isaac against him. There was a hunger in his eyes. And when he kissed him, it was hard and deep.
Isaac’s brain buzzed, and his heart soared as Mohammed’s probing hands and tongue sought out and conquered. Isaac could not suppress his moans and sighs. When Mohammed started to work his pants’ button and lower his zipper, he worried that he was going to lose is then and there.
“You are so hard,” Mohammed said, gripping Isaac’s cock. “I love holding you like this. Makes me feel powerful and alive.”
“Makes me feel good.” Isaac was having difficulty shaping words that sounded intelligent due to Mohammed holding him in that way. He thrust, sliding his cock along Mohammed’s clenched fingers.
“I want you to feel good.” Mohammed skirted his hot lips down Isaac’s throat. “And I want to be the one doing it.”
“Me too.” Isaac heard his desperation. But he was desperate in every way possible. He clenched his ass, causing his pants to slide lower from his butt cheeks. Releasing his grip, Mohammed fell to his knees, lowering Isaac’s pants on his descent. Isaac looked down, and the scene unfolding was the hottest he had ever witnessed. He refused to close his eyes with lustful abandon because he wanted to sear this moment in his brain for the rest of eternity. His cock was hard and throbbing and an inch away from Mohammed’s parted lips. Mohammed licked one full, long lick over Isaac’s cockhead, causing his heart to skip a few beats and his dick to jump.
“You taste so damn good.” Mohammed filled both hands again and applied expert pressure. He started slowly at first by delivering soft baby kisses over and under his shaft.
Isaac fought against the feeling in his thighs as if they were going to give from under him. He wanted to scream out and beg Mohammed to hurry because he didn’t think he could take any more of such pleasurable pain. But he was spared when Mohammed engulfed his cock and stroked him with both hands. The sounds of wetness echoed around him as Isaac stabilized himself by leaning against a mirrored wall. The glass was cool against his sweating palms as the flutter deep in his gut built until it gained strength and finally overtook him.
Mohammed didn’t let up when Isaac said, “I’m going to come.”
Isaac leaned his head back, and he no longer had the strength to keep his eyes open. When the forceful orgasm ripped through him, he felt as if he was coming apart and there would be nothing left of him when he emerged on the other side. Over and over Mohammed sucked, twisted, and pumped until Isaac was completely drained of his strength and his juices. When Isaac did manage to catch his breath and open his eyes, he was met with Mohammed’s handsome smiling face, his red lips still slick with saliva.
“Have I mentioned how good you taste?”
Mohammed needed him now, needed to have his cock buried deep in the man who made him want to reconsider his entire life. It was crazy, he knew, but Isaac’s blend of sweet and sexy was what he had always dreamed of in a partner.
“How am I doing in fulfilling your workplace fantasy?” He fought back a chuckle as Isaac visibly swallowed.
“I’d say you’re doing a pretty damn good job.”
“Good.” Mohammed gave Isaac a tender kiss, his lips just touching his lover’s. “But it’s not over yet.”
“It’s not?” Isaac’s hazel eyes pulsed, yellow flecks dancing.
“No, babe. It’s just begun.”
Just in case they weren’t alone, Mohammed locked the door of the dressing room. This was going to be too good for it to be interrupted. And once he got started, he didn’t plan on stopping until they both shot their loads.
Quickly, Mohammed unfastened his pants and pulled a condom from his back pocket before shoving his jeans and underwear down around his ankles. His heartbeat thumped in his ears, and he was aware of his erratic breathing.
“Turn,” he growled. �
��Now.”
Isaac spun and widened his legs. Mohammed tore open the silver packet, removed the condom, and slid it down his length. Isaac stilled, every muscle taut and at attention as Mohammed pressed his cockhead against that pink, pulsing bud.
“You want me to fuck you right here, right now?”
Isaac’s strangled whimper said it all.
Mohammed improvised by lubing his cock with spit. He sucked in a breath before sliding his cock deep into Isaac’s tight hole. He exhaled hard when he started to rock his hips back and forth. The dressing room was narrow, but it didn’t stop Mohammed from making the most of it. He’d had sex in many places, but this was a first and, he thought, worth repeating.
“Damn that feels so good,” Isaac said, causing Mohammed to thrust as hard and deep as he could. He wanted to claim every last inch of Isaac.
“Fuck, babe,” he grunted. “You are amazing.” And Isaac was. Mohammed slammed harder and faster as Isaac bucked up against him, meeting every thrust. Mohammed reached around and squeezed Isaac’s hard pecs and pinched his nipples. They perked under his touch, reacting to Mohammed’s loving pinches.
Mohammed felt a bead of sweat race down his spine as his balls jumped and tightened. He buried himself in Isaac and paused. “You like what I’m doing to you?” Mohammed whispered in Isaac’s ear.
“Yes,” Isaac cried. “Please don’t stop.”
Mohammed started to fuck again, and he abandoned Isaac’s nipples to slide his hands down his lean body straight to his lover’s hard cock. He pumped Isaac’s dick as he thrust with a steady, fast rhythm. Isaac’s soft mews turned to animalistic moans of passion as Mohammed tightened his grip around Isaac’s dick even more.
“I’m going to shoot,” Isaac said.
Mohammed was too.
In three deep thrusts, Mohammed’s body was hit by a strong orgasm. “I’m coming,” he said as his brain seemingly exploded and his thighs convulsed. Isaac pressed his body against Mohammed, driving him in deeper, the pleasure almost too much to withstand. Hot liquid poured over Mohammed’s fingers as Isaac shuddered under his purposeful touch. They rode out their orgasms until the intensity lessened and they were able to talk normally.
The Boys of Banana Court: Box Set Page 20
