by K. C. Wells
Heath’s smile reached his eyes. “Then I’m doing it right.” He removed his loose-fitting dark gray top and flung it over his shoulder with abandon. “Apparently it’s all about the build-up.” He grinned. “I read that somewhere.”
“Imagine that,” Xavier teased, but then his words died as Heath pushed down his sweatpants to reveal an already hard dick that jutted out from his body. “Oh, that’s going to fit so nicely in my arse.” Xavier’s hole tightened at the thought of that smooth, solid cock sliding into him. Not too long, not too thick.
Just right, in fact.
“Want to tell me what’s just crossed your mind?” Heath smiled. “It looked like a pleasant thought.”
Xavier smirked. “I was thinking about how perfect your dick is, and suddenly you were Goldilocks.”
Heath arched his eyebrows. “And what does that make you?”
He grinned. “I’m a big black Daddy bear who prefers boys to blonde little girls—and my favorite thing to snack on is not porridge.”
Heath flung his pants to join his top on the floor. “Should I be scared?” He crawled up the bed, ignoring Xavier’s dick yet again. Instead, he stopped at Xavier’s head, brought his fingers to his lips, and wiped them before leaning lower to kiss Xavier’s forehead. It was more of a graze than a kiss, Heath’s lips brushing lightly across his brow, but Xavier was aware of the sublime shiver that it generated. Heath repeated the light touch with his temples, then moved lower, eventually reaching Xavier’s mouth.
“Kiss me,” Xavier demanded, lifting his head from the pillow to meet Heath’s lips. They connected, and Xavier took control of the kiss, pouring into it all the need building up inside him.
All too soon, however, Heath broke away, smiling. “You distracted me.” He kissed down Xavier’s neck, moving forward until he reached his Adam’s apple. Heath traced circles around it, nibbling gently before brushing his lips along the hollow of Xavier’s throat. As he massaged the area with his tongue, using wide, soft circles, Xavier shivered.
“S-something else you read?”
Heath’s only response was a chuckle that reverberated against Xavier’s neck. He pulled gently on Xavier’s earlobe, then used his tongue to trace the outline of his ear, lightly and leisurely. It was hypnotic, soothing and yet stimulating at the same time.
“Roll over.”
Xavier blinked but complied, resting his head on his folded arms. Heath shifted up the bed, his knees at Xavier’s hips as he leaned over him. Heath’s dick tapped against his back and Xavier chuckled, but all desire to laugh fled when Heath applied his tongue to the nape of Xavier’s neck. “Ohhh.” Heat raced through him, and he did his best to bow his head, presenting Heath with a greater surface area. Exasperatingly, Heath licked a trail down his spine, pausing at the base. Then he traced a line with his tongue all the way back up Xavier’s spine before heading down again.
Xavier couldn’t suppress his reaction. He drew his knees up under him and presented Heath with his arse, his cheeks slightly parted. Come on. Please.
Heath chuckled. “Is that a hint? I thought I was in charge today.”
“Well, if you will keep missing the road signs…,” Xavier muttered.
Heath laughed, and then warm breath stirred the hair in Xavier’s crack. Finally. Xavier waited for the first lap of Heath’s tongue over his hole, but it didn’t come. Instead, Heath covered Xavier’s pucker with his mouth and… hummed.
“Oh my God,” Xavier said weakly. The vibrations were incredible, and Heath seemed intent on spreading the sensations as he applied his lips to Xavier’s balls and the back of his thighs, humming a little tune. Xavier struggled to place it for a minute, then burst out laughing. “The Rolling Stones? ‘You Can’t Always Get What You Want’? Oh, funny man.”
The desire to laugh vanished as Heath changed the pitch of his voice, making it lower. Oh fuck. That was a whole different set of sensations, slower somehow, sending leisurely pulses of pleasure crawling through him. Then Heath changed the pitch again, only this time it was higher, and Xavier was suddenly fighting the urge to come. He bowed his head to the mattress, his body tense.
“I don’t care what other little sensual tortures you have planned for me,” he gritted out. “Right now I really need you to fuck me.”
Heath’s body was warm as he covered Xavier, his breath stirring the hairs on Xavier’s nape. “But I’m not finished.”
“Oh yes you fucking are,” Xavier growled. He widened his legs, reaching back to spread his hole. “Now prep me.” He ached to feel Heath inside him, to luxuriate in that exquisite burn and stretch.
“Oh wow. Look at you.” A second later, Heath’s hot tongue was exactly where Xavier needed it to be, and Xavier pushed back, wanting more. When it didn’t come fast enough, he grabbed Heath’s head and held him there, pressing him into the crease. Xavier twisted to look at Heath over his shoulder, shivering at seeing his face buried between Xavier’s cheeks.
“Yeah, that’s it. Get your tongue in there. Rub your beard between my cheeks and over my hole.” When Heath tried to pull away, undoubtedly to retort, Xavier kept him where he wanted him, and Heath apparently got with the plot, loosening Xavier’s hole with each stab of his tongue. Xavier held him steady while he rocked his hips up and down, Heath’s tongue dancing over his hole, his beard softly rasping the delicate skin. Shivers coursed through Xavier, until he was incapable of keeping still. “Now. Your fingers in me. Now.”
Xavier’s urgency had to be audible, because only seconds later, cool, slick fingers—two of them, thank God—penetrated him, cautiously at first, until Xavier made it plain he wanted the burn, wanted to feel them fucking him. Heath’s breathing was as harsh and erratic as his own, and the little grunt he forced out every time he thrust his fingers deep inside Xavier was a heady soundtrack. Xavier’s cock was like granite, thick and rigid, and he tugged on it, smearing the precome over the head, the slickness adding to the friction as it slid through the hollow of his palm.
“Want to be inside you,” Heath said, his words twisting slightly at the end into a moan.
Xavier knew how he wanted this to go. He rolled onto his back, pulling his knees up toward his chest, his gaze locked on Heath. “Ready for you.”
Heath stretched toward the bedside cabinet, grabbed a condom, and quickly covered up. Xavier felt over the mattress for the lube he knew had fallen there somewhere. He squeezed the viscous liquid into his hand before wiping the residue between his cheeks. Heath shuffled forward on his knees, his legs spread wide, his cock pointing upward. A careful moment of aim and nudge, and Xavier caught his breath at that first slow drive of Heath’s shaft into his body.
“Oh my God.” Xavier couldn’t miss the awe in Heath’s voice. “You should see this. The way my dick looks as it slides into your hole.”
Xavier knew exactly what he meant. He always loved the contrast of Heath’s pale skin against his own rich, dark brown tones. Then Heath when a little deeper, and Xavier closed his eyes to focus on the sensation, forcing himself to relax, to breathe. Damn, it felt good.
Heath almost fell forward onto him, but Xavier caught him in his arms. “Hook your arms under my knees. I want to kiss you while you’re inside me.”
Heath nodded, and a moment later, Xavier’s knees were at Heath’s shoulders as he slowly moved in and out of him. Xavier pulled him roughly down into a kiss, feeding him low moans as Heath filled him to the hilt. Their breath mingled as Heath kept his motions leisurely and gentle, and Xavier had to admit, it was the perfect way to start.
It just couldn’t stay that way.
They kissed, their bodies shifting position, until Xavier had his legs wrapped around Heath’s waist, trapping him there, digging his heels into Heath’s arse as he demanded him to go faster, harder, both of them sweating and neither of them quiet. Heath buried his face in Xavier’s neck, crying out with each thrust of his dick, and Xavier rocked with him, his body buffeted as Heath snapped his hips, slamming into him and for
cing harsh grunts from Xavier’s lips. He tightened his internal muscles around Heath’s cock, pulling more sounds of pleasure from him, and Xavier knew it was going to be an epic come.
Words were superfluous. What said more were Xavier’s hands on Heath’s back, digging his fingers into the firm flesh, moving lower to squeeze his arsecheeks, while they kissed incessantly, locked together, moving together. And when it came, Xavier anchored himself to Heath’s shoulders as he shot hard, shuddering his way through an orgasm that left him limp and thoroughly sated.
Heath’s face was right there, inches from his. “My turn,” he whispered, picking up speed, penetrating Xavier with short, rapid thrusts that felt amazing, until he bowed his head, propped up on his arms, and arched his back. Xavier felt the swell of Heath’s dick inside him, and he held on to him as Heath was carried along on his own wave of ecstasy.
They lay together, Xavier taking Heath’s weight, until at last Heath knelt up and gingerly extracted his cock, holding on to the condom. What passed through Xavier’s head was a single thought, and it stunned him.
I want him with no barriers.
Maybe it was the act of letting Heath take him. Maybe it was the intimacy of the whole encounter. Whatever had prompted the thought, it wasn’t something Xavier ever did, and he wondered at its arrival. How long have I known him? How long have we been doing this? Except he knew such questions were bullshit where the heart was involved, and as much as he might deny it, Xavier’s heart was well and truly involved.
Heath carefully removed the condom, then grabbed the towel that had been hanging over the bedpost. Xavier hadn’t even registered it. With great tenderness, Heath wiped away all residues, then dropped the towel to the floor and returned to lie with Xavier, who instantly pulled back the sheets and covered them both, enfolding Heath in his arms.
Heath tilted his head to look Xavier in the eye, saying nothing, but Xavier caught a glimmer of anxiety. He chuckled, caressing Heath’s bearded jawline. “You were amazing. And that felt… wonderful. Thank you.”
Heath’s eyes lit up, and Xavier knew he’d read the situation correctly. Then Heath closed his eyes and snuggled up, one leg hooked over Xavier’s, Heath’s head on his shoulder, the scent of him filling Xavier’s nostrils.
Xavier closed his eyes and replayed the foreplay, recalling how intimate and tender the experience had been. Then he realized why it had felt different. It hadn’t been a case of arousing Xavier to take Heath’s dick—that had been a given as soon as Heath had led him into that bedroom. No, it had felt more like….
A prelude to making love, Heath worshipping his body with fingers and lips and tongue. Then there was the constant need to kiss Heath while he moved in and out of him, connecting them.
Heath stirred against him, disrupting the flow of his thoughts. “I love you,” he murmured sleepily, so quiet that Xavier almost missed it.
He stilled. Oh God. Xavier knew what he should say, but something stopped him, and he hadn’t got a fucking clue what it was. He prayed it was something murmured in that fuzzy phase of falling asleep, words to be forgotten the instant they met air. Instead, he kissed Heath’s dark head, and Heath snuggled closer.
Xavier carefully stretched out a hand to switch off the lamp beside the bed, plunging the room into darkness.
I do love you, so why the hell can’t I say the words?
Chapter Seventeen
XAV COULDN’T remember the last time he’d walked into work on a Monday morning with a smile so wide that it hurt his face. He also couldn’t remember his balls being so drained that they ached in the most delicious ways. But this weekend with Heath had been….
Is there an adjective that covers it? Because amazing didn’t even come close.
Heath had been tentative to start but more than willing to explore his boundaries and press past them. The scene they shared went far beyond anything Xav could have expected. Leaving him the previous night had been a real wrench.
No rest for the wicked. Of course, that got him thinking. Maybe it’s time for a little wickedness. With extreme reluctance, he pushed the delicious thoughts aside and switched into work mode.
Xavier beamed at the receptionist seated behind the desk. “Good morning, Bea!”
She looked up, her eyes wide. “Mr. James.” Her gaze darted toward Mr. Church’s office, then back to Xav. “I wasn’t expecting you so early.”
He leaned against her desk and gave her the most dazzling smile he could come up with. It was a truth he’d come to know after years of working in different companies: if you couldn’t make nice with the person who controlled the coffee, you were screwed.
“I had a great weekend, and now I’m ready to hit the ground running on the Chelsea project again.”
She nibbled her lip. “Oh, um…. Mr. Church wants to see you.”
Xavier blinked. Church didn’t usually stroll in until nine. “Okay. Is he in his office?”
She lowered her voice to a whisper. “No, sir. He’s in yours. He’s been waiting for almost thirty minutes. I told him you don’t usually come in until eight, but he said he’d wait in your office.”
Those few words were enough to pour icy water on his good mood. Well, damn. Xav straightened, then smoothed his suit jacket.
Bea gave him an encouraging smile. “Good luck, Mr. James.”
“Thank you.” Xav feared he was going to need it. He opened the door to his office and found Nathan Church, his boss, sitting at Xavier’s desk, drinking a cup of coffee.
Xavier went in with brisk efficiency. “I’m sorry, Mr. Church. Had I known you were going to be here, I would have been in earlier.”
Church rose to his impressive six and a half feet, which succeeded in making Xav feel like a scolded schoolboy. “I actually called in to speak with you on Friday evening.” Church’s gaze narrowed. “You weren’t here.” The accusatory tone was hard to miss.
Shit. “No, sir. I had an engagement I needed to keep.” No way was he apologizing for taking some time. He wasn’t even supposed to work the damn weekends. Except Mr. Church had a way of frowning that made Xav want to swear to him that it wouldn’t happen again.
So you’ll give Heath up?
No, that he wouldn’t do.
“Friday afternoon I was here to finalize the details for a project we have scheduled in London. I did want you to head it up, but if you’ve got other commitments that are going to split your focus, then we can always let Cal take the lead on it.”
My own project? Xavier’s focus grew razor-sharp. Normally the company put together a team to deal with projects. Only on rare occasions did they give one person rein over the whole thing. And such projects tended to go to the best of the best.
About fucking time. This was what Xavier had been working for, and at last his hard work was going to pay off.
“No, sir. I can handle it. Just tell me what you need me to do.”
He sent Heath a silent apology. Xavier’s time was about to get eaten up by work.
“It’s something we’ve been working on for a while, and in the present economic and political climate, it’s going to make us look good and earn us a tidy profit.” Mr. Church smiled, and something slithered inside Xav’s stomach. “Come to my office after you get your coffee. I’ll talk you through it.”
“That’s fine. I don’t need coffee.”
Mr. Church gave Xav a peculiar look, then shook his head. “Very well. Let’s go to my office.”
The entire way down the hall, Xav cursed himself as the smell of freshly brewed coffee filtered through to his nostrils. Years ago, Xav could get a sub to quake in his boots just by stepping into the room. He could expect a sub to give Xav his full attention. And now, here he was, afraid to take a minute to grab a cup of coffee.
What a wimp.
Once inside Mr. Church’s office, Xav remembered why he coveted this job so much. The room was huge, with an exquisite view of the park across the way. The day he’d interviewed for the job, Xav had sat slac
k-jawed and stared, dreaming of the day he too could have something like this.
“Very well. Let’s get right down to it, shall we?” Mr. Church gestured to a chair across from his. “We’ve been in negotiations with a development group who is keen to develop two streets in London. Right now, the area is nothing but tattoo parlors, cafes, a pub, a coffee shop, souvenir shops…. You get the idea. Their plan is to completely remove the old buildings, which contain mostly old flats or storage space, and build modern, stylish apartment blocks. On the street level, we’re talking art galleries, wine bars, a couple of high-class restaurants, plus outlets for designer clothing, objets d’art….”
Mr. Church turned his laptop so Xav could see the screen. “This gives you an idea of what the apartments will look like. And there’s an artist’s view of the street level. Perfect for this area. We’re talking near Soho. The two streets are ripe for renovation—not that you could call them streets, they’re so narrow. But we aim to create a new buzz there, a revitalization of the area. Not to mention providing the city with more housing.” He gave a thin smile. “They’ve been bleating on about that for years.”
Xavier chuckled. “Yes, but when the government refers to more housing, I rather think it means affordable homes? The ones you’re proposing we build here would only be available to those in the top income bracket. And let’s be honest. The majority of them won’t even be lived in. They’ll be bought as someone’s idea of an investment, not a home.”
Mr. Church’s gaze grew stony. “Is this your way of raising an objection to the project?”
Xavier beat a hasty retreat. “No, not at all, I was merely pointing out the reality of the situation.” In truth, he thought the last thing London needed was more luxury apartments. Gentrification was pricing some people out of their own neighborhoods. “What stage are we at?”
“Planning permission was obtained four years ago, but it seems the group sat on the project until now.”
Xavier nodded knowingly. Planning permission, once obtained, was valid for five years. After that, it had to be applied for all over again. “So they really do need to make a move now.”
