The stairway to the second floor stretched up and away from Greg Falkner like his own personal Everest. Shouldering the carton of books he carried, he gritted his teeth against the burn in his calves and began the climb for what seemed like the thousandth time that afternoon.
“I still think the first floor is the place for a library,” Greg grumbled.
Not even winded, Aaron Blake pushed past him carrying an armful of hardware and tools for some floating shelves. Greg eyed Aaron’s jean-clad ass as he followed his lover up the stairs.
“Y’all’re not getting the best view all to yourself. The bedroom stays downstairs.” Aaron tossed the edict over his shoulder as he disappeared through the arched doorway across from the landing.
“It’s not like I’m the only one who’ll be in here,” Greg shot back, dropping the box to the floor just inside the door. He raked a hand through his sweaty hair and curled his lip as he eyed the jumbled piles littering the room. “We’d be done by now if we didn’t have to cart all this crap up here.”
Tools clattered into a growing pile, and Aaron turned to lean against the modern library table. A smolderingly slow sweep of his Pacific-blue eyes conveyed he liked what he saw. Greg’s hand fell to his side. Mesmerized, he stepped forward a pace as his lip recovered from its sneer.
When Aaron spoke, it was to issue a husky demand. “I want to lie in bed and watch you swimming. That’s why.”
Taking advantage of the flirty invitation in Aaron’s gaze, Greg took another step forward. With a quirk of his blond brow and a teasing lift of his lips, Aaron turned away and lifted the drill. The whine of the power tool cut through the silence. Perfunctory motion morphed into a seductive dance that inspired a lover’s wet dream.
Outside, high tide beckoned, the surf pounding hard and rhythmic, mimicking the awakening pulse of arousal. Greg stepped close and laid a hand on Aaron’s shoulder. The drilling stopped abruptly. Chest expanding on a whisper-soft sigh, Aaron dropped his head forward. Honey-streaked strands fell to the side with a brush of Greg’s fingers. Leaning in, he inhaled faint traces of cocoa butter sunblock as he ran the tip of his nose along silken skin. He breathed in deep, reveling in the scent of Aaron’s skin as memories of sun, sex, and sand made him hard—so hard his cock pulsed with sweetly aching need against the seam of his jeans. He savored the discomfort and pushed into it with a measured thrust against Aaron’s ass. Without stepping away, he took the drill from Aaron’s hand and placed it on the table.
It wasn’t often Greg topped Aaron. Got to watch his back arch and his body submit with wild abandon. Aaron always seemed so vigilant, so in control. It made breaking him down on those rare occasions all the sweeter. Sometimes, but not often, Aaron let him. Other times Aaron waited until the last second to turn the tables. Greg palmed the ridge of Aaron’s cock through his jeans, pressed their bodies closer, and idly wondered which it’d be today.
Teasing his fingertips over Aaron’s fly, Greg traced familiar ridges and outlines. Explored the rounded head of his lover’s cock and searched out the sweet spot close by. Discovery made, he pressed in a tight circular motion, creating friction and pressure. Aaron hummed his approval and let his head fall backward to rest on Greg’s shoulder.
On the other side of the window screen, the setting sun streaked the sky with orange hues. White sands stretched to cresting, white-frothed waters, but nature’s beauty couldn’t compare to the achingly intimate masterpiece of his lover’s face. Golden lashes fanned above exotic cheekbones. A blush painted a sunset glow across each tanned ridge. When Aaron opened his eyes, Greg found himself enraptured, caught in his own blue heaven.
Cheek to cheek they stood, the rasp of Aaron’s stubble heightening Greg’s senses. Anticipation built as he slowly popped buttons free to gain access to Aaron’s naked flesh. Sliding his fingers beneath the open placket of Aaron’s jeans, he grasped heated, silken skin and used his thumb to spread precum down the proud length of his lover’s cock.
Aaron pushed forward, encouraging a rhythm Greg easily found. Stroking. Gripping. Squeezing. Until Aaron’s thrusts became more insistent. Harsher. Moans escaped his lover’s lips with unconscious abandon as he rolled his head side to side. Enthralled with Aaron’s ecstasy, Greg almost ceased to notice the heaviness of his own erection. The only things that mattered were Aaron and Aaron’s pleasure.
Another squeeze and twist over the crown and down the shaft brought Aaron’s head up with a snap.
Opening his palm to ease the pressure, Greg whispered, “Not yet.”
“You’re a sadist.” Aaron’s breathless accusation brought a lazy smile to Greg’s lips.
He slid his gaze to the table where he’d tossed a bunch of Velcro strips earlier for bundling the computer wires. Smile broadening into a grin, one hand on Aaron’s belly pressing him backward, Greg used the other to scooch one of the longer strips closer until he had it in his fingers.
“Hands behind your back. Cross your wrists.” Greg’s sharp order jerked Aaron’s spine straight, but he complied.
The faint schripp
of the tightening fabric elicited a gasp, followed by a breathless, “One.”
Coded threats wouldn’t stop Greg now. Not when they both knew Aaron could have stopped him at any time. He wanted this. They both wanted this.
“You’ll have to wait a while to exact your revenge, my friend,” Greg answered, curling his fingers around the fuzzy restraint to double-check its hold.
“Two.” The word came out on a growl as Aaron struggled against the Velcro.
“Shh.” Greg ran a soothing hand down Aaron’s back. “You’re all right. I’ve got you.”
Aaron drew in a deep, shuddering breath. Then another.
Vigilant to his lover’s struggle, Greg tensed. If Aaron showed any more signs of freaking, he’d let him go. He waited to see what Aaron would do. After a minute of steadying breaths, Aaron relaxed broad shoulders and rested his head against Greg’s shoulder once more.
“Now where was I?” Greg murmured.
Aaron flexed his fingers against Greg’s torso. “Racking up points for an ass ki—”
Greg clamped a hand over Aaron’s mouth and grabbed his cock at the same time.
“Relax and enjoy it.” Greg hooked a thumb in Aaron’s waistband and encouraged his jeans lower as he teased. “Who knows when I’ll feel like letting you get all the attention again?”
The expletive Aaron issued from beneath Greg’s hand sounded suspiciously like, “Fuck you.”
“No,” Greg murmured, baring Aaron’s ass with a tug at the denim. “My turn.”
Aaron bucked backward. Surprised, Greg fell on his ass, tugging Aaron with him. They landed in a panting heap on the floor. A jerk of Aaron’s shoulder and hips brought him around so they sat face to face. Eyes blazing, he canted toward Greg and bit his earlobe. Hard.
“Motherfucker!” Greg jerked Aaron away by his shoulders.
He touched his ear and came away with a pink smear on his fingertips. Gaped first at the blood and then at Aaron. The sparks in Aaron’s gaze said he was furious, but something just underneath gave Greg pause. Memories from their teenage years surfaced. He recalled struggling against Aaron in a field near school. One of the few times he’d gained the upper hand, and he’d had to fight for it. Fight hard. Greg narrowed his eyes. Aaron wanted a fight.
He launched himself forward, knocked Aaron backward, and pinned him to the floor. With one hand, he found the crotch of Aaron’s jeans. Shoved them lower. Hobbled, Aaron could only flail like a fish.
Greg grabbed a handful of cock and yanked.
Greg squeezed harder. Tugged upward, compelling Aaron into an arch. His back left the floor, and Greg wedged a knee underneath to flip him over. Face-first, ass in the air, Aaron heaved and struggled to right himself. Greg pinned him with a hard grip on the back of his neck and a knee to his tangled jeans. Cheek pressed into the floor, Aaron turned beet red. Greg had no doubt he’d pay for this later, but right now it felt good to be on top. Full lips wuffling with each blown breath, Aaron struggled while Greg waited him out.
Tiring, Greg leaned low and mimicked Aaron’s New Orleans drawl. “Keep on and y’all’re headed for a reamin’ over the deck rail.”
Aaron stilled. Exhaled.
Greg grinned and fished inside Aaron’s pocket, knowing what he’d find there. A leather cock ring and a bubble packet of lube. He chuckled, low and dark. Leave it to Aaron. The man had perfect timing, and he always traveled prepared.
“You’re going to come so hard,” Greg said with a sympathetic sound. “Even with the ring.”
Eyes squeezed shut, Aaron tugged his bottom lip between his teeth in an exquisite display of submission all the more beautiful for its rarity. With efficient motions, Greg gathered Aaron’s balls to his cock and snapped the leather restraint around what had to be achingly hard flesh. Aaron breathed through his arousal and accepted his fate. Apparently the threat about public exhibition worked. God knew it always did the trick with him when Aaron used it.
“Feel good?” Greg asked to be certain.
Eyes still closed, Aaron swallowed. Nodded.
“Good.” Greg pressed a kiss against the tip of Aaron’s ear.