Don't... (8 page)

Read Don't... Online

Authors: Jack L. Pyke

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica, #Bdsm, #Lgbt, #Gay, #Romantic Erotica

After a few dying fish impressions, Jack managed, “I teach. I don’t chill—kids or in any relaxing sense.”

“No?” Don’t suppose he did. “Me, I do the odd weekends at a nudist beach. My way of chilling. I also sleep naked too.”

I was jerked forward slightly as Jack’s foot slipped off the accelerator. Horns blared disgust from behind, and I controlled my smile. I gave Jack a wink, a
got’cha
look, and he groaned.

“Taking the piss, huh?”

“Maybe,” I said, watching him. We exchanged pleasantries for a while, re-going over what had happened with my car again. Engines. Jack seemed less likely to blush over engines. We moved onto football at some point, something I knew even less about, but by then Jack was pulling onto the garage forecourt and alongside my Jag.

“You washed her?” I said as we got out.

Jack made a start for the reception. “Can’t not wash him.” All the garage roller doors were down and the lights were off inside signalling that everyone had gone home. I followed Jack in and didn’t complain when he didn’t turn the lights on. The evening sun gave us all we needed. Jack paused by the door, running his hands under this antibacterial cleanser attached to the wall, similar to those found in hospital, and I frowned. Okay, so I’d think nothing of it if he was clocking off, but using it to go into a garage environment?

My itemized bill was next to the phone, and Jack shifted past me and handed it over, taking me through exactly how much replacement of the clips had cost and what charges were made for labour. It was just good to be close, because for all of his garage look, a fresh scent of amberwood, seductive like its owner, came from the soft curve of a throat I’d have loved to nuzzle into. He looked after himself despite his brush-off in the car about hygiene. I charged the bill to my card, and he gave me my keys and receipt as he came around the desk.

“Thanks.” I followed him over to the door and watched him close the blinds.

“No problem,” he said, his back to me. “If there are any further problems, just re-book him in, alright? Keep in mind the distributer and the water intake. Roadside assistance may be able to fix that at the roadside, let them know it’s a problem.”

I don’t know what the hell came over me, maybe it was the draught from the door, how it stirred that cologne, or how Jack looked up against those blinds, legs slightly apart, ass looking as sexy as hell, but as he turned around, I pressed up against him, bodies separated only by our clothes, lowering my eyes to anticipate every move he made.

He was startled for a split-second, looked like he’d push me away just through reflex in another, but then every ounce of tension seemed to relax. “Ballsy, Breakdown.”

I reached up and rested palm-flat against the windows, either side of his head, the blinds crackling in our ears, cutting off anything he had to say. No room for escape. Lips were close, so bloody close I caught this slight draft of coffee, mint—him—brush across my lips.

Jack was breathing heavy, deep; I’d forgotten how to.

“Caged?” I licked my lips. “Why, Jack? How?”

Again that air of coffee and mint against my lips. My leg brushed his, demanding entry between his thighs, and I found a breath as he let me inch him apart.

“Please.” My cheek brushed Jack’s. Christ, my dick was hard against his hip. “Let me see it.”

“Fuck, Jan.” A hand on my hip forced me to keep still as I rubbed friction against him. “It’ll hurt,” he said so quietly, and I was surprised to feel a gentle kiss on my cheek. “You carry on doing this, you’re gonna hurt me.”

I ghosted his lips with mine and loved the feel of him against me. “Can’t stand hurting you, Jack.” I carried on down to his throat, tasting a fine line of perspiration that wanted me to work him hard to force more. Jack turned his head away, not discouraging, not with his soft groan, just allowing more access.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, and I murmured something back, a low purr against his throat. He smelt good, but he felt so much bloody better, body against mine.

I made the pull on his coverall zip long and slow, disturbing the heat, the silence of reception. My hands slipped inside, and I traced up his body, running a gentle touch under the fabric, easing them off his shoulders. He took the encouragement as material gathered at his wrists and pulled his arms free. A soft smile, I ran a touch instantly under his T-shirt and pushed it up his body, thumbs brushed both his nipples, but he didn’t hiss until I tongued at one, then teased a bite on the bud, nipping gently.

“Christ, Jan.”

Giving a murmur, I slipped his T-shirt over his head and a soft sound of material hitting floor was heard somewhere in the distance.

Coveralls gathered at his waist, leaving his abs, pecs, and shoulders all on display. Jack was, was—“Fuck, Jack,” I breathed, my kiss more heated. My hands looked at his body: the run over toned sides, chest, down to the V of his abdomen, over the line where coverall and jean were a tangle at his waist. “Just fucking look at you. Just so bloody... sexy.”

“Nothing special,” I heard him mumble, and part of me tucked that away for now. His breathing was deep, controlled, so well practised it seemed almost second nature for him to stop getting hard. Hands ghosted my hips, coming to rest on my ass, and I smiled hearing him mumble something about a ten-pointer.

“Like my ass, Jack?”

“Mmmm.” A tug pulled my groin tighter against Jack’s thigh, and he groaned. “How the hell do you fit all that into those slim trousers, Breakdown?”

I wasn’t porn-star huge, but what I did have got me by. I rutted against him, smiling into the kiss. “Wanna find out?”

A sharp breath, a grunt, Jack pushed me away.

“Hurts,” he breathed, and I could see it in his face, his hand on my chest keeping me at a safe distance.

“Uh-huh,” I said, loving how his lips were roughed-up from the intensity I’d felt rough my own. “Need to see it, Jack. I need to see you tamed. Please.” His eyes—Christ, those eyes were everything that cage on his dick tried in such desperation to tame. Maybe I could understand the why; I wouldn’t want that look straying from me.

I meant what I said; I didn’t want to hurt him, but I needed to see.

I slipped down his body, knelt, and Jack glanced down and lost control of his breathing for a moment.

“Easy,” I murmured, feeling him tense as if expecting the inevitable pull of pain. “I’m not here to hurt you, Jack.”

A tug at the coveralls took them a few inches over his hips; I kissed the left, then right curve of hipbone. Reaching around to his ass, I inched the jeans down a little further, exposing a small portion of his ass to the cold of the blinds and loving how he jerked into me from the onslaught. I let my breath brush against his thin line of exposed pubes.

“Jan, please,” Jack forced between teeth. He sounded torn between pushing me off and throwing me to the floor. “Stop.”

“Why lock you up?” I pulled his jeans down a little further and saw what looked like a round clip with a lock. Christ. I ran a tongue over the silver and heard him hiss. “Did you do something wrong? Is it to stop you having sex?”

“Huh?”

“Jack, fuck. Have you seen this on you?” I’d pulled his cock free and the silver crisscross casing covering his cock was nearly bulging at the silver seams. Painful, yeah, but so.... “Jesus, Jack.” I ran a finger over the silver criss-crosses, sometimes catching a nail on the exposed areas of his cock. “Looks so good. What?” I tilted my head to look at it from every angle. “What did you do?”

“Punishment.”

I glanced up. “Why? For doing what?”

“Christ, Jan, don’t, don’t look at me like that.”

I lifted the cock cage almost to the point of mimicking a hard-on, just testing the weight, what hid inside. “He at home now?”

“Huh?”

I ran my tongue tip-to-root along the silver shaft, deliberately catching the exposed areas of cock now.

“Fuck me,” breathed Jack.

“Your Dom. That’s what this is, right?”

Jack frowned down. “It’s not like that. I’m—I’m not his sub.”

“Then what’s this?” I massaged his balls, forcing them against the cock cage.

“Complicated,” he forced through his teeth with a frown.

I got to my feet and saw how Jack nearly whimpered in relief.

“Then let’s un-complicate things.” I slipped my hands around his waist, tugging him in close. “Either we go back to yours, get the key, get that off, and fuck each other senseless for a few hours,” Jack’s hands found their own way to my ass, returning my compliment. I glanced down, loving the sight of my clothed cock on his caged.

“Or?”

With a grin, I pulled away completely, even took a few steps back to put some distance between us.

“Or I’m gonna strip, reduce you to nothing but bound watcher as I play with myself at your feet.” I let my hand wander up to my shirt. A tug pulled it free; then I teased it up to show an inch or two of tanned flesh beneath. I wasn’t lying about the naked sunbathing.

A sudden shift from the window, a growl, Jack hunted out his T-shirt, tugged it on, then forced his cock back in before grabbing me by the sleeve of my shirt. Seemed Jack wasn’t one to stand on the sidelines and shout encouragement.

Chapter 7
Silence Is Deadly

I managed to wait until Jan had at least allowed enough of a gap between me and the door, before I kicked it shut and pushed him up against the wall, kissing the fuck out of his mouth, hands slipping under his shirt. The muscle there was alive, all moving, contracting as I dug my fingers in, forcing a hiss out of Jan. His shirt shaped him well and looked expensive, but I needed to feel skin as much as he’d needed to see it. Two buttons tore free, the rest took the hint, giving up any fight to keep Jan away from me, and I promised myself I’d buy him another one as I traced my hands up, pushing shirt away from shoulders. Great shoulders, kissable ones. My lips whispered appreciation as I played left collarbone, right, sometimes biting, wanting to mark—Jan’s moaning an encouragement
to
mark. Damn good shoulders; they needed marking. Especially over the stunts he’d pulled at the garage.

“Mine,” I growled. Jan was trying to pull his arms free, but I kind of liked the shirt pulled down to his wrists like that, keeping him still, and I reached behind, fisting the shirt until he couldn’t struggle and got the hint to hold still.

He smiled, a flash of eye, a challenge to carry the manhandling through.

A brief crush of lips, I twisted him away from the wall and heard Jan’s breath catch as I forced him onto the stairs. Kneeling behind him, I took a hold of his hair, pushing him face-first into the soft carpet. The muscles strained in his shoulders, black trousers shaping his tight ass to slipstream precision. Tugging slightly at his trousers, I leant down and kissed the touch of exposed flesh.

He had a damn good ass. A kissable ass. A—

“Fuck, yeah. Jack, just,” he was breathless, “just get that thing off so we can fuck, yeah?”

Pulling him back to me, slipping my hand around his waist, just teasing with the hint of a brush to his groin, I nibbled his ear. “Upstairs.”

Jan pulled himself free and tossed the shirt aside. The sight of his naked torso gave me tunnel vision, nothing else existed outside of the world of Jan, and I couldn’t give a fuck about any shirt. Now to his feet, Jan turned back and offered me this gorgeous smile.

It was enough to have me up on my feet and pushing past him. I’d almost forgotten, but as I took the lead to my bedroom, I paused.

“Shower,” I mumbled, glancing back at Jan to see him watching me. It was a look shared by lovers, between lovers, not for any fucked-up audience. He didn’t seem to understand why I’d paused other than to hint at being clean. There was trust from Jan, one I wouldn’t fuck up. Pushing him up against the wall, I let our tongues slide and explore. “Shower,” I said, maybe growled this time. I needed his clothes off, to feel him on me. “I’m gonna need....”

Jan’s hand dug into my cock. “Lube to get this off?”

My groan was acknowledgement, and I edged him back along the hall, back past the stairs and pushed him through to the bathroom. Almost sent stumbling, he regained his composure and chuckled as he fumbled for the clasp to his trousers.

“Key.” He grinned over at me. “Get that fucking key.” Seeing him unzip himself, I backed away and scrambled down the hall to my bedroom. Drawer pulled open, nearly out onto the floor, I sorted round for the key. Finding it under some condoms, I grabbed at it, and slammed the drawer shut before making sure my bedroom door received the same treatment.

The pitter-patter of water on tile drummed a tune to my pulse. Jan had already worked out the shower, and I enjoyed the sight of his naked, wet torso taking a battering through the frosted glass. A glance over his shoulder, he saw me looking and stepped out, cock all red and angry and stopping just a few inches short of his perfectly formed navel. He made no apologies for his state, in fact he gave a lazy smile, stretched his body to its full glory, then let his hand fall onto his cock, where he pulled a gentle stroke. And, hell, I’d be damned if I could figure out how the hell he got that in those slim trousers.

“When was the last time you got laid, Jan?”

Jan padded over to me. “I look that desperate?” I felt a tug at my coverall zip, and I pulled myself free. “Four months,” he said as he took a step back to watch me undress. If he knew how sexy he looked as water made a fine sheathe over his body, dampening hair that couldn’t hide the lure of his eyes, he didn’t show it. But as I finished, Jan came back over and pressed his body against the mess of mine, confident his body would have all the right effects on mine. Ballsy. He didn’t lack in the forwards department.

“Mine,” he said, running his hand over my shoulder. I shivered, maybe nearly melted being the better word. His gaze followed the track he made with his hands. “Kind of love the sound of that.” He shivered, and something about the vulnerability made me kiss him. Gentle, tender, in every way he deserved. I didn’t do relationships. But him—

“Mine,” I murmured against his lips, resting a hand at his neck and stroking it with my thumb. “Kind of love the sound of that, too.”

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