Men of London 03 - Suit Yourself (15 page)

Slowly, Leslie stepped out of his
not-really-there thong, and stood swaying to the finishing bars of
the music as Beyoncé’s voice tailed away. The sight of the man
naked was one Oliver would take to his grave. Coltish, long limbs,
an elegant yet strong build, a face that could sink ships with its
open-eyed beauty and legs that looked as if they should be wrapped
around Oliver right now.

“Put those heels back on and come over here,”
he growled. “I need you. So damn much.”

The soft smile Leslie gave him was like the
sun coming out on a grey day. Teasingly, he slipped his shoes back
on, tantalisingly waving his beautiful ankles at Oliver as he did
so. Then he moved over to Oliver and straddled his hips, his cock
only inches from Oliver’s yearning mouth. Slowly, Leslie eased
forward until the tip touched Oliver’s lips and he took him in,
revelling in the musky taste, the smooth and heated flesh who was
his lover. Leslie gasped and pushed deeper into Oliver’s mouth. He
loved it when Leslie fucked his mouth, loved the sounds he made,
needy and desperate as those blue eyes watched his own cock moving
in and out as Oliver’s tongue and lips paid homage to the beauty
that was Leslie Tiberius Scott.

The music continued to play in the background
and Oliver closed his eyes and surrendered to the feelings building
in his chest. This was something sublime, something to be
savoured.

He got into his teasing torture, and not too
soon after, Leslie’s hands gripped his shoulders tightly, hips
rocking as his panting grew louder. Oliver smiled around the cock
in his mouth. He knew Leslie’s breaking point, the point at which
he could no longer hold back. He decided it was time to end it, as
his own cock wanted inside Leslie so badly he didn’t think he could
last much longer. His tongue dipped into the slit, and his mouth
tightened, and sucked and Leslie gave a cry of bliss and came hard.
Wet, sweet-tasting come flooded Oliver’s mouth and dribbled down
the side. He relished every drop as Leslie slumped forward, holding
Oliver’s head tightly against his sweating belly.

“Oh God, every time you do that, I swear it’s
the best ever,” he groaned as Oliver kissed the skin over his
mouth. “You are just so good at it.”

Oliver shrugged as he moved his head away so
he could breathe and not be smothered by toned abs. “Plenty of
practice,” he said cheekily and Leslie laughed as he shifted
position.

“Oh yes, Mr. Porn Star, that’s definitely one
of your best talents.”

“I have other talents,” Oliver murmured. He
frowned. “You taste sweet. How come?”

Leslie chuckled. “I read this article that
says incorporating fruit into your diet makes a difference. I tried
eating pineapple and berries this week. Obviously, it worked.” He
waggled his eyebrows as he positioned himself above Oliver and
stared down in amusement. “Maybe we should try different flavours,
see if it’s true? I could eat curry all week, then seafood and
maybe you’ll be able to taste the difference.”

Oliver grimaced. “I’ll skip the seafood and
curry thanks. I rather like fruity Leslie.”

Leslie laughed loudly. “Oh, I’m fruity all
right. Don’t you know that yet?”

“Fruity and the sexiest man I know,” Oliver
said huskily. “Now do you think we can get back to what we were
doing? This hard-on isn’t going away by itself.”

“Your wish is my command,” Leslie whispered
as he picked up the tube of lube on the nearby table. There was
always lube somewhere in Oliver’s house. He figured it was an
occupational hazard.

One of the things Leslie liked to do, and
Oliver loved to watch, was to use his fingers inside himself as he
readied himself for Oliver’s cock. He made these strange grunts and
sighs, and his face scrunched in pleasure.

“One of these days, I’m going to do this to
you,” Leslie murmured as he squirmed above Oliver. “I know you’re
not much of a bottom, but I really want to be in your arse at least
once or twice.”

Oliver nodded, his eyes feasting on the sight
in front of him. “I’ve bottomed before. You know that, just not
recently. But there is nothing I’d like better than you inside me.
I’m ready when you are…”

Leslie used Oliver’s sweats to wipe his
sticky hands, tossing the pants on the floor once he’d finished.
Grabbing a condom, Leslie unwrapped it with a quick, wicked grin
and slid it onto Oliver’s ready dick, sheathing him, making sure to
flick his leaking tip as he did. Oliver heaved a shuddering, needy
sigh at the contact. When Leslie finally straddled Oliver,
teasingly lowering his body onto his cock, they both gasped, and
Oliver gave a groan of satisfaction. He held back the impulse
to push upward, and instead watched as he disappeared inside
Leslie’s eager hole. Wet heat engulfed his sensitive flesh as
Leslie’s fingers rested on his chest. Leslie rode Oliver
gracefully, in balletic movements that were fluid and focused, his
sexy heels adding to the sheer eroticism of his movements.

“My God, you do that so well, “ Oliver gasped
as his hips began thrusting impatiently upward as he strived to
bury himself as deep inside Leslie as he could. “You are wicked,
you know that?”

Leslie’s reply was to bounce even harder on
Oliver’s dick, twisting his nipples and gripping skin until Oliver
succumbed to the sight and sensation as he and Leslie became one.
It seemed to Oliver that all those moments spent as Nicky Starr,
all those sessions with men he’d knew as friends, colleagues or
didn’t know at all, were nothing compared to the moments of
completeness he felt when he was with Leslie, making love.

The feeling of belonging was amplified as his
groin exploded, his skin prickled and the orgasm that thundered
through his body rocked his world. He clutched at Leslie’s slim
hips and bellowed out his satisfaction.

Leslie leaned back, resting his hands on
Oliver’s thighs and moaned. “I have two words. Fucking. Awesome. I
love to make you flip like that. God, you look so damn sexy when
you do.”

Oliver’s heaving chest needed air so he took
in some deep breaths. “You are going to bloody kill me.”

Leslie’s soft laugh made his dick twitch—just
a little. “Not the intention. Dead body sex is so gross. I need you
alive and horny.” He lifted himself up, expertly removed the
condom, tied it…then flung it on the side table. He slipped off his
shoes and laid them gently on the floor.

Leslie winced as he settled next to Oliver on
the couch, feet tucked up beneath him. “Why do we always seem to
end up on the couch when we do this? I don’t think we’ve made it to
the bedroom more than about three times since we met.” He nestled
into Oliver’s side, gently tracing the scars on his body with warm
fingers.

Oliver chuckled tiredly as he wrapped an arm
around his lover. “Because you do things to me that no one has ever
done before. Drive me to distraction.”

Leslie moved up onto one elbow and stared
down at him, brow furrowed. “Really?” He sounded uncertain. “I’d
have imagined you’d have had another man in your life that might
have made you feel that way. Gregori Golovin didn’t do that?” He
bit his lip. “Sorry. Bad form talking about an ex-lover to your
present one especially after mind-blowing sex.”

Oliver’s stomach had lurched at the mention
of his ex. “Greg never made me feel like you do.” He stopped, not
really wanting to tell this story now, but feeling it was due.
“Greg was controlling, very charismatic. I was only twenty-one when
we met. I was flattered that a man like him would be interested in
someone like me. He was dominant, strong and I enjoyed that aspect.
I was crazy about him.”

Leslie’s soft breath brushed his ear but he
said nothing. His hands simply stroked Oliver’s belly and torso,
grounding him.

“We had some good times. But when I got him
chucked out the studio for the whole drug thing, he turned really
nasty. He’d always had a violent streak in him.” He took a deep
breath. “He beat the shit out of me that night. I needed a week to
get over it. He’d hit me a few times before then, and apologised. I
always took him back. Like an idiot.”

“That bastard,” Leslie growled. Even in this
emotional state Oliver thought it was as sexy as hell. “Honey, you
thought you loved him. That plays havoc with your common sense. I
can’t believe he beat you that badly, the prick. I’m never watching
his films again.” The determination and disgust in Leslie’s voice
made Oliver laugh.

“He may look like a blond god with those
green eyes and platinum hair but he could be very cruel. I found
out just how much the night I went back to my apartment, after we
broke up and found him there with two other guys, the twins,
remember I mentioned them before?” Leslie nodded against his
shoulder. “I’d forgotten to get my key back.” He fell silent as he
remembered. “Greg was there being spit-roasted by these two guys.
He didn’t even care that I was there, seeing it. They just carried
on. I screamed and ranted and they laughed at me.”

Leslie’s hand tightened on his shoulder.
“Fucking bastards,” he murmured. “I hope you stuffed them up.”

Oliver’s chest tightened. “I should have
done, I suppose. I didn’t.” His voice was hollow in the quiet of
the room. “Instead I rushed out, found my own party, got doped and
boozed up and went on a motorbike ride.”

Leslie sat up swiftly. “That was the night
you had the accident? Oh, Oliver.”

The grief in his voice made Oliver pull his
boyfriend down closer into his arms as he kissed his fragranced
hair. “I was a fucking idiot. I shouldn’t have done it. I can only
blame myself.”

“Maybe, but you weren’t thinking straight.
God, I wish I could kick that motherfucker in the balls with my
heels.” Leslie growled again.

Oliver smiled at the feral sound. “I love it
when you do that,” he chuckled. “It’s pretty hot.”

Leslie smiled against his skin. “I’ll have to
do it more often then.” He kissed Oliver’s chest softly. “What
happened after the accident? Did Gregori at least come to see you
in hospital, say he was sorry?”

Oliver laughed harshly. “Oh, he came to visit
me all right. I was in and out of consciousness, all doped up on
all kinds of shit. I woke up to find him there, sitting by the
bed.” He paused, remembering the gladdening of his heart that
perhaps everything was okay again, that Greg had come to ask
forgiveness and wanted him back. “I told him I still loved him,
needed him. He just smiled and leaned down and said that now I
looked like a monster, there was no way anyone would ever want or
need me again.”

Leslie’s horrified gasp echoed in his
ear.

Oliver’s chest ached with pain. “He told me
that I was a pathetic, useless fuck-up and that I was finished in
the porn industry because the only way they’d be able to pay anyone
to fuck me was with a paper bag over my face.” He smiled twistedly.
“Then he left.”

The room was silent. Against his chest,
Oliver heard a muffled sound and he reached down in surprise to
lift Leslie’s face to his. His lover’s eyes were wet with tears and
he was vainly trying to hold back a sniffle. “Leslie, honey, please
don’t cry. It’s all over now, and I have you, remember?” Tenderly
he smoothed locks of Leslie’s damp hair off his wet cheeks.

I have you for now, at
least.

“I can’t believe someone would say something
like to you when you’re all busted up in hospital,” Leslie sniffed.
“He’s such a tosser. I am definitely burning all my films with him
in. Then I’m going to pack them in a box and send him a letter
telling him what I think of him. It will include the words
fuck you
and
twat.
”

Oliver laughed. “You do that, you devil,
you.” He was warmed at the reaction to his story, that Leslie cared
about him that much. Warmed and scared at the same time. He was
back at his old
I’m getting too close to this
man
scenario, the one that meant he could end up getting
hurt again and hurting Leslie in the process. That was his biggest
fear.

I’m not the right guy for a
bright, shining star like Leslie to have a future with. What if I
can’t be what he wants, what he needs? Maybe my own damn
insecurities are going to drag him down, and he doesn’t deserve
that. He’s too special to have anything but the best in his
life.

They lay together, quiet, each busy with
their own thoughts. And when Leslie reached up again with wet,
salty lips and claimed his in a fierce, possessive kiss, Oliver
closed his eyes and let all the bad memories of the past fade away
for a fleeting, wonderful moment.

Chapter 12

Oliver loved lazy Sunday mornings. Especially when
he woke up with Leslie curled beside him. There was something about
having his lover’s pert, warm arse snuggled against Oliver’s
already aroused body that really made it worthwhile sleeping in. He
smiled and kissed the back of Leslie’s neck, making him chuckle
softly and wriggle against his already hardening dick.

“Someone’s ready to go again,” Leslie
murmured sleepily as Oliver ran a hand though his messy bed hair.
“Wasn’t last night enough for you? You made me come so hard I saw
stars.”

Oliver trailed his lips across the bare skin
of Leslie’s shoulder. “I could never get enough of you,” he
murmured as his lips trailed down the soft skin of his boyfriend’s
back. “You’re this irresistible force of nature who I have to
contend with.”

Oliver loved the way the body in his bed
arched back, and Leslie’s languid arm reached back and pulled
Oliver’s mouth to his for a hot, slightly stale-breath-smelling
kiss. Morning breath really didn’t matter when it was Leslie’s.

For a moment they lost themselves in the
shift of skin on skin, the press of a cock between firm, willing
cheeks and the promise of something in passionate kisses and
questing tongues. The moment was lost when the doorbell rang.