Dirty Dining (9 page)

Cathcart and Kit had left the dining room before dessert was served, and two of the other men made their boys come as part of the last course. Then the boys left as the gentlemen gave Thomas orders for nightcaps.

Even though the room’s atmosphere had cooled off, remembering Remy’s body responding to Sky Blue’s skillful hands kept Brice hard and aching until he got his key for the night.

Room 4. Again.

W
ITH
THE
metal from the key hot in his hand, Brice left the dining room and headed for the stairs. He didn’t want to wait for the damn elevator this time. He was unbearably horny, and he saw nothing wrong with taking care of it with Law. He adjusted his trousers, but his erection still made an obvious tent as he climbed the first steps.

He glanced down as he heard footsteps in the entry hall. It was Remy. He was in jeans and carrying his Cal sports bag. He was chatting to another serving boy, who only wore underwear.

“See you on Sunday, Remy!” the other boy called out and waved as Remy headed for the front door.

So he wasn’t staying the night with Sky Blue? Brice moved to the next step, and it creaked, causing Remy to look up. Their gazes met, and this time it was Brice who had to look away in shame as Remy took in his arousal as he went upstairs to meet Law. Brice sped up his steps, and it was only as he put the key into the door of Room 4 that he let himself analyze Remy’s expression, a mixture of disappointment and surprise.

The hypocrisy of that didn’t dawn on Brice. He felt as if he’d somehow let Remy down. Even though Remy let Sky Blue jack him off for an audience, Brice spending the night with Law was somehow worse. A heavy sense of shame washed over Brice as he opened the door.

And then he saw Law, wearing the green scarf and the tiny white shorts—unbuttoned so Brice could see his cock springing out of a nest of silky black hair.

“Hey, sailor,” Law said with a wink and put his cap on Brice before slamming the door shut. He wrapped himself around Brice, arms and legs twined around him so their bodies made contact in a thousand different places.

“Hey, back.”

Law kissed Brice and let go, tugging him toward the full-length mirror. He slid Brice’s jacket off and hung it up in the armoire. Then he came up behind Brice and reached around under his arms and slid his hands up along his chest and down his abs, just palming Brice’s aching cock through the fabric of his trousers. Law started again with Brice’s hands, skimming his own hands up Brice’s arms, with firm pressure along his forearms, then biceps and up his shoulders. He left a path of tingling heat as he moved down Brice’s neck. He pulled Brice’s tie off and tossed it onto the chair.

With the same heat and contact, he shifted his attentions to Brice’s back and over the shoulders, pushing Brice’s arousal level to its limit. He undid the first button of Brice’s shirt, then slid his palm along Brice’s chest, friction across his nipples and then back to the next button. Fire burned through Brice’s core, under his balls, and his ass tightened with each touch. It took Law five minutes to get Brice’s shirt off, massaging and tormenting his chest and abs. All the while, Brice watched Law’s hands in the mirror and saw how his cock reacted.

With the shirt off, Law reached around again and applied his magical touch to Brice’s bare nipples. If he could do this with his fingers, how would his lips and tongue feel? Brice wasn’t sure he could handle any more stimulation. Behind him, Law pressed his cock against Brice’s ass or hip or thigh.

“Take my pants off already,” he practically growled, and Law grinned behind him as their gazes met in the mirror.

“All you need to do is ask.” Law winked and slid his palms down toward Brice’s belt. Once Brice’s pants were down, he could feel Law’s erection sliding along the cleft of his ass. The front of Brice’s boxer briefs had an embarrassingly large wet spot. He’d probably been dripping precome since before Remy’s shorts came off.

Unable to wait, Brice yanked his own underwear off, and behind him Law continued to rub and press against Brice’s naked skin, the fabric and buttons of Law’s shorts scraping pleasantly as he reached around and grasped Brice’s cock with both hands.

“Mmm, Mr. Green, very nice.” Law slid his hands loosely up and down the length. Brice liked how Law made him feel he was huge, even though he thought his cock was pretty average, at least compared to his previous sex partners. “Please let me suck it.”

How could Brice say no to that? He didn’t. He just nodded, and Law slid around and onto his knees in nothing flat. He smiled and looked up from under thick, dark lashes, took Brice’s cock with both hands, and brought the tip to his lips. Damn, but this boy was a tease. Just a little tongue flick into the slit, and then he pulled back. A little lick on the underside. A few more teasing tastes before a lick to the sensitive spot just under the head, and Brice’s entire body shuddered.

Law positioned himself between Brice and the mirror so Brice could watch his cock slipping between Law’s lips and still get a gorgeous view of Law’s ass as the little shorts slid down his hips, revealing most of his bottom, probably the sexiest ass-crack ever. In front, Law’s erection jutted out of the open shorts and bobbed as Law sucked away at Brice’s cock.

With one hand Law pulled Brice’s hand onto his head and squeezed his fingers through Law’s hair. It didn’t take Brice long to catch on. He gripped Law’s head by the hair, firmly but gently, and took more control of the speed and depth. Law glanced up with obvious pleasure and made encouraging noises around Brice’s cock. He also did some incredible things with his hands and tongue to Brice’s cock, balls, and ass, keeping Brice just this side of the edge. Every time he thought he’d come, Law would ease off and prolong the pleasure. Brice watched Law’s cock, planning to return the pleasure at some point later.

Before Brice even realized it had started, orgasm ripped through his entire body, starting from his balls and core and thundering up his cock till he pumped his release down Law’s throat. He hadn’t even asked if that was okay. But the smile on Law’s face as he swallowed was all the answer Brice needed. Law kept sucking and massaging his cock.

Finally Brice pulled himself free. His dick was too sensitive for any more contact. Law was still on his knees. Brice needed a moment to recover; then he’d get to work on Law. He stepped back into a warm puddle on the carpet.

Law blinked and looked up through those silky lashes again with a sly smile. He’d already shot his load without any more stimulation than Brice’s cock down his throat. That was certainly flattering.

“You took away my fun,” Brice teased as he pulled Law up from his knees. He reached down and tugged at Law’s cock a few times. It was half-hard and still looked very attractive hanging out of the shorts.

“You want me to keep these on?” Law put a finger through a belt loop.

How did he keep reading Brice’s mind? It was spooky. But the boy was good at his job.

“Shower or bath?”

Brice would fall asleep in a tub. “Shower.”

Despite Law’s best efforts to turn the shower into another pleasure overload, Brice kept it short and productive. He slid under the sheets warm and dry, and Law eased in beside him. Brice curled up on his side and felt Law spoon him from behind.

The next thing Brice knew it was morning. Sun peeked through the drapes, and the clock showed eight thirty. Brice shifted his weight, and Law slid an arm around him and went straight for his cock.

“Good morning, Mr. Green.” A warm squeeze emphasized the sentiments. “Do you want some
breakfast
in bed before breakfast in bed?” The question was inviting, and so was Law’s warm flesh pressed against Brice’s back.

“I don’t—”

“Would you fuck me, please?”

No one had ever asked so politely. “What?”

“Not for a tip. I don’t want the tip. But I really want your cock in me. It’s just so perfect.” Law slid across Brice’s body and started playing with him. It didn’t take long for every inch of Brice to wake up and agree with Law’s plans.

Brice lay back to consider the possibility. Law shifted to give him a nice view of his ass. “Please? You can do it on the little couch, and we can both watch in the mirror.” He blinked slowly, and the lush eyelashes started to work their magic along with the view of Law’s ass and his active hands.

Then Brice glanced over to the little couch and he remembered Remy offering to sleep there and not fitting. Remy. Why had his face popped into Brice’s mind at this particular moment? The effect was immediate—Brice’s cock thickened and throbbed. Law noticed and moaned before returning his full attention to Brice’s morning wood.

But Law’s touch somehow backfired, and Brice felt himself softening. Law’s hands did nothing for him now. Brice’s brain had short-circuited his body into craving Remy and not Law.

“I knew that wasn’t such a good idea. I have to get to work for a meeting. But uh—”
What am I supposed to say to him? Maybe next time? I’ll call you?
Brice was such a neophyte at this stuff. “Thanks for serving me last night.” God, he sounded so lame. But this wasn’t a date. He didn’t have to impress Law to have him again—if Brice wanted. And if he didn’t, no one’s feelings would get hurt.

If
he wanted Law. But Brice wouldn’t request him again, even though he’d provided pleasure and distraction the night before. Distraction was the key word. Brice hadn’t wanted Law. He’d wanted Remy, and Law took the edge off that desire, but didn’t satisfy him. Brice had hoped playing with someone else would get Remy out of his mind, but he admitted to himself no one would.

Not until he could make Remy his.

Brice hopped out of bed, used the bathroom, cleaned up, and got dressed. Law watched from the bed, lazily stroking himself as Brice dressed and left the room. As he rode home in the taxi, he thought again about Remy.

Brice had never been this obsessed about anyone before. It was ludicrous to contemplate anything beyond the physical, and Brice wouldn’t have kept thinking about Remy if he hadn’t seen the flash of remorse and shame in Remy’s eyes when he’d looked at Brice in the dining room, sitting on Sky Blue’s lap and on the verge of coming. And then there was Remy’s obvious disappointment at seeing Brice heading upstairs afterward. The only reason for Remy to display those emotions would be if he had some interest in Brice beyond simply playing at dinner. At least that’s how Brice rationalized what he’d seen.

J
EREMY
RAN
toward the BART station, hoping he wouldn’t miss the last train to the East Bay. Without his bike he’d be stuck in SF until the first train at around five in the morning. He could probably go back to the club and crash in the dining room or an unoccupied bedroom, but Jeremy couldn’t stand the idea of walking back in there tonight.

Or possibly ever again.

He felt his cheeks flaming at the recollection he’d been the evening’s main entertainment—for the gentlemen and the other boys. He wished he hadn’t glanced over at Mr. Green right at that moment, right when he started coming. God, how humiliating. Jeremy wasn’t sure which was worse, that he’d actually enjoyed what Sky Blue was doing to him or that Mr. Green had seen him enjoying it. For some crazy reason, Jeremy wanted Green to see him as more than a plaything for a few hours or a night.

Any chance of that was gone. Green hadn’t wanted Remy to serve him, but he’d kept his gaze on Jeremy for a good part of the evening, not just as he was getting jerked off. Well, Green had requested someone else. Why did it bother Jeremy so much to think of Law with Green, touching him, pleasuring him in an upstairs room after dinner? Green had been pretty aroused watching Jeremy, and he still had an impressive hard-on as he climbed the stairs to Law.

Stop thinking about him!
Jeremy practically shouted the words. He must have said something out loud because an old homeless woman ahead on the sidewalk turned around and scuttled out of his way. If he’d scared her, then he’d been acting really crazy.

Back home in his apartment, with the bedroom door locked, he finally summoned the courage to look at his tip folder. A thick wad of cash lay inside, and he pulled it out. His dinner fee would be direct deposited—the club wanted to look legit for taxes—but the tips for extras at dinner were paid in cash by the gentlemen. Jeremy pulled out a pile of crisp new twenties and his heart raced as he counted.

“…twenty-five, twenty-six… forty-nine, fifty!” He stared at the money. A thousand-dollar tip on top of the regular dinner fee. There was another envelope in there with some crumpled twenties—extra tips from the other gentlemen, two with Post-its giving their “colors” and an invitation to serve them in the future. Rand and Thomas had told him he’d done well and could expect requests from now on. Jeremy wanted to talk to Kit about handling requests, but he’d run off with Mr. Green’s friend before dessert. Kit was probably getting a tip that very moment—one way or another, but probably every way and everywhere possible.

Jeremy laughed and lay back on the bed, tossing the cash into the air and watching the bills flutter down around him. He could afford a new bike now—a very nice bike—and still have money for rent. When he added in what he’d earned the first night, he was okay for at least another month even if he didn’t get any tutoring work. If he worked once a week at the club, he’d never need to worry about cash while he finished his degree.

A knock at the door startled him. The doorknob turned, ineffectually. “Dude, whatcha doin’ in there with the door locked?”

“I wouldn’t have to lock it if you didn’t try to come in!” Jeremy hopped off the bed to let his roommate in, forgetting about the cash bonanza all over the bed and floor until he turned back around.

“Jesus, Mary, and a baked potato!” Doug crashed onto the bed and handed Jeremy a beer. “What the hell did you do to get this much money? How much is it?” Doug stared at the bills as Jeremy rushed to collect them.