Worth Keeping (15 page)

Owen brushed Nick’s groin. “I hope we don’t make too much noise tonight what with your dad sleeping next door,” he groaned. “I’m still not too keen on that bloody idea. I have no idea if I’ll be able to perform knowing he’s probably listening.”

Nick gave a husky chuckle that turned Owen’s bones to water. “Oh you’ll perform all right,” he whispered, licking Owen’s jawline slowly, as his hands kneaded Owen’s balls. “I have a few ideas about bringing some of that marine line I have into the bedroom and tying you to the head board. Then I can have my way with you however I like.”

Owen moaned, his whole body aflame with the thought of what Nick might do to him. “Jesus, Nick. You’re going to make me come just thinking about that, you bastard.”

Nick nuzzled his neck. “Really? You think I can make you come just by talking dirty to you? Telling you I really want to taste you, have your hot cock in my mouth, suck you dry. That I want to feel those sexy lips of yours wrapped around me, sucking me until my cheeks hollow and then we can start all over again?”

Owen’s cock was definitely liking this new and lusty Nick, even though Owen thought it might end with sticky come in his underwear if Nick carried on. Owen hadn’t done that since he was a teenager but it was looking like a distinct possibility.

Nick knew it too from the shit-eating grin on his face. “Wow, babe, you really are liking this, aren’t you?”

Owen reached out, grabbing hold of Nick’s crotch, hearing him gasp. “And so are you are, Nick, so don’t kid yourself. Christ, it feels like the bloody Shard in there. Maybe I should blow you right now, here in the kitchen and just hope Don doesn’t walk in on us.”

Nick grinned. “I dare you. Get down on your knees, take me out and get those beautiful lips wrapped around my cock.” His eyes were dark and Owen sank into their depths. He took a deep breath, his knees hitting the floor just as a voice shouted from outside.

“Cooee, lads. Are you home and decent?” Heather’s voice echoed across the garden and Owen stood up hastily, brushing the dust off his trousers.

Nick groaned in frustration, reaching down to give Owen’s cock one final tweak. “Save it for later,” he murmured as he adjusted himself with a wince, going outside to meet his friend.

“Yeah, right,” Owen grumbled as he too tried to hide the huge erection sprouting in his pants. “Fuck, Heather, your sense of timing of sucks. Unlike me.” He sniggered at his own wit. Owen thanked God she’d had the sense to call out. Coming in and finding him on his knees blowing his boyfriend wasn’t on his top-ten list of things for her to see for the day. He glanced down quickly at his trousers to make sure there was nothing leaking through, pleasantly surprised to see no stains. Sighing heavily, he went outside. Heather stood with Nick. In the distance, a human brick wall was moving fairly swiftly toward them.

Owen smiled. Don seemed to be in a hurry to get here. It could only be the presence of one rather curvy and ebullient woman that was causing this haste.

He went over and hugged Heather, making sure not to get close to her. The last thing he wanted was to poke her with his still extremely swollen hard-on. Nick smiled at his efforts to avoid her and Owen scowled at the glint in his eyes. Heather spoke to them but her eyes were watching the man coming toward them.

“So are you boys behaving yourselves now that Don is here? I thought I’d pop over and give you an apple pie I picked up at the market this morning. I know how you love apple pie.” She handed of the pie to Nick.

“You mean Don loves apple pie,” Nick murmured mischievously. “The man has a dreadful sweet tooth.”

Heather waved a hand. “What man doesn’t like apple pie?” she said airily.

“Me,” Owen said gloomily. “Apples give me a funny buzz in my mouth, makes my mouth dry. I think I might be allergic to them.”

Nick raised an eyebrow. “Allergic to apples? That’s a first.”

“Yes, well, we all have our little foibles,” Owen said testily. “I’m sure you have things you can’t eat.”

Nick shrugged. “Nope. No allergies, no ‘foibles.’” He grinned. “I eat anything that’s put in my mouth.”

Owen glared at him, his cock once again coming alive at those words.

Luckily Heather wasn’t listening, being too focused on the figure that drew closer with a huge smile.

“Heather, how lovely to see you, sweetheart.” Don came over, grabbing the woman in his arms. Owen winced as she disappeared from view.

Christ, Don was going to bloody kill her.

But Heather emerged unscathed and pink-cheeked. She and Don disappeared into the house, arm in arm. The two men watched them go, and then Owen turned to Nick.

“There’s definitely something going on there,” he muttered. “The thought of those two doing it though really makes my head hurt. Your dad’s likely to bloody kill her if he gets on—”

Nick balanced the pie on one hand and reached over to lay the other on Owen’s lips, his face slightly pale. “I do
not
want you to finish that sentence nor put images in my head that have no right being there. Instead I’d rather think of what you’ve got here”—he slid his hand down over Owen’s chest and grabbed his crotch, squeezing it—“and how it’s going to taste later. I think a definite early night is on the cards.” He cast a sultry look at Owen as he handed over Heather’s treat. “And now I’m going to go to the lighthouse to find a little bit of rope. I have me a steer that needs taming.” He winked, giving Owen a long, hard kiss and another hefty stroke of his groin then Nick turned, striding toward the lighthouse. Owen watched him go in resignation. He looked down at the now wet patch on his trousers feeling like a guilty schoolboy.

Better get in and get changed and hoped nobody noticed.

Chapter 10

Nick sat at the kitchen table with Don and Heather watching his lover’s eyes slide occasionally to the corner of the kitchen floor where a long length of rope lay coiled like a sleeping cobra. He wanted to giggle out loud at the sense of expectation in Owen’s eyes. Instead he let him stew. Nick had no intention of using the rather coarse strands of marine rope to subdue his boyfriend and have his way with him but it was fun watching him squirm. The rope would probably rip the skin off his wrists and ankles and Nick had no interest in causing him any pain.

Owen had a couple of thin woollen scarves in his wardrobe—the man hated the cold and bought a scarf every time he went into town—and if Owen was really keen on a bit of a bondage, they’d be much better to use. Heat washed over him at the idea of having Owen at his mercy. It wasn’t a kink he had himself. He’d never let himself be restrained like that, but he had no qualms doing it to a willing partner.

Don frowned at Owen. “Son, is something wrong in that corner? You’re watching it like you expect that coil of rope to grow fangs and bite you. It’s a little unnerving.”

Nick couldn’t help the quiet chuckle breaking out of his chest. Owen glared at him even as his face went pink. “I thought I saw something, a rat or something. Don’t mind me.” He made a concerted effort to ignore the rope, picking up a fork and turning it over in his fingers.

Nick took pity on him. He looked at his watch and yawned widely. “Well, it’s 11 p.m. and I think it’s time for bed.” He looked at Socks who was curled in his corner basket, snoring softly. “He’s settled in for the night. Are you, er, staying over, Heather? If so—”

“No, Heather is not staying over, Nick. Honestly what are you thinking?” Don frowned at him fiercely. “I’m going to run her home and I’ll be back before the tide comes in.”

Nick nodded. “Okay. Well, you know where my car keys are, and you have your own house key. Not that the door will be locked anyway.” He reached down and kissed the top of Heather’s head. “Night, Heather. Don, I’ll see you in the morning.”

Don nodded. “Night, son. Night, Owen.” His eyes crinkled in a slight grin as Owen stood up and followed Nick into the bedroom.

Nick saw Owen’s slightly uncomfortable look and he grinned. Owen was still worried about sleeping with Nick in such close proximity to Don. Owen seemed to be quite old-fashioned despite his apparent avant-garde habits with drinking, drugs and what looked like kinky sex. The two men entered Nick’s bedroom and Nick made sure to close and lock the door behind them.

Owen raised an eyebrow. “Making sure no one disturbs us then?” His voice was husky and went straight to Nick’s groin. After the missed blow job today and the fun of keeping Owen in a state of sexual tension all evening, he was fairly ready to let loose himself.

“Uh-huh. Including the monkey. When the others are gone I’ll go fetch the rope.”

Owen’s eye’s darkened and he licked his lips. Nick was mesmerised by the sight of a pink tongue darting out, wet and shiny and the fixed look of anticipation on Owen’s face. He felt like a heel at his next words. “Owen, honey, I was just teasing. I don’t really intend tying you up with that stuff. It’ll take the damn skin off your body.”

Owen’s eyes flickered and Nick didn’t miss the look of disappointment crossing his face. He moved over to Owen, pulling him closer to him, grinding their hips together, feeling faint with want himself. “You can get out one of those scarves you keep buying and we can use those. It’ll be more comfortable.”

Owen considered that then nodded. “If you say so. I don’t mind either way. Rope definitely has an appeal. Maybe we should order some from a BDSM online store.”

Nick’s mouth gaped open. “Order some? You mean actually let people know we use that stuff, have it out in public? No way.”

Owen sighed. “Nick, it’s all secure payments and no one gives a damn what you buy.”

Nick looked nonplussed. “You’ve done it before obviously. With Jules?”

There was a sudden flash of sadness in Owen’s eyes and his jaw clenched at the mention of his dead lover’s name. The room turned chilly.

“Yes. Thanks for the reminder. I was trying not to think of that.” Owen turned around and disrobed, sliding his trousers and underwear off his lean hips then pulling his polo shirt off over his head. He stood naked in the room, his cock standing up proudly. Nick thought he’d never seen a man sexier that this one.

He started to take off his own clothes and once he’d got his shirt off, he looked up. Owen was gone. The bathroom door was closed and he heard the sound of the shower. Nick felt unsure whether he was expected to join Owen. He got his answer when he found the bathroom door locked.

He stood there for minute trying to think what he’d done wrong. In hindsight, he supposed mentioning Owen’s late boyfriend hadn’t been the wisest thing.

Nick turned and slipped in between the bedcovers, his erection flagging. He lay back, closing his eyes, listening to the sound of the running water. He was pleasantly relaxed and half asleep when someone slipped into bed beside him. Owen smelt of shower gel and shampoo, clean, masculine scents that invaded his nostrils with their heady fragrance of sandalwood and lavender.

“I’m sorry if I upset you, Owen.” Nick murmured. “It was stupid of me to say anything.”

Owen shifted but said nothing. Nick lay there, then tentatively reached for Owen’s hand. His fingers closed around it as he waited with bated breath for some reaction. Finally, Owen’s fingers curled in his and he squeezed gently. Relief flooded his body.

“I feel disloyal,” Owen whispered.

Nick sat up, bedclothes falling to his waist. “In what way?” he asked gently.

“I wanted to die, Nick. I missed Jules so much I threw myself in the fucking sea. Then you found me and now suddenly I have to be reminded by you that there are still things of his I want, that I used to not be able to live without. He’s dead and I’m here thinking about bondage with you.” Owen’s voice was flat. “How fucking shallow am I?” He lay on his back staring at the ceiling. Nick tried to marshal his thoughts to say something that would comfort his lover.

“Owen, there’s no doubt you loved Jules. Probably still do.” That sent a pang to Nick’s chest. “But I’m sure he’d be glad you didn’t die out there in the bloody ocean. He’s probably sitting somewhere looking down at the amazing man you are hoping you get happy again.” He took a deep breath. “Owen, take it from a man who has been to hell and back and clings onto every bit of normalcy and affection he can get like a bloody limpet mine. You’re alive and you can’t feel guilty because you think you’re being unfaithful to a dead man.” He lay back down, linking his hands behind his head, lying looking at the ceiling too.

He’d said his piece. It was up to Owen now.

Owen breathed softly next to him and then he squeezed Nick’s hand even tighter. “Thanks,” was all he said.

Nick nodded in the darkness. “You’re welcome.” He thought the mood had gone and then Owen leaned over, taking his lips in a sweet, gentle kiss that tore at Nick’s heart, making his skin tingle and his heart soar. The taste of Owen on his lips was like ambrosia.

Nick knew at that moment that the fight to keep his heart free of any emotion for this man had been irrevocably lost.

He groaned into Owen’s mouth, his hands reaching for him, pulling him on top of him so that heated skin rubbed together and cocks slicked against each other like silky batons. The sweat and the tangy essence of pre-come invaded the room When Owen reached down one strong hand and grasped them both tightly, beginning to stroke both cocks with hard, fast strokes, Nick gave into the rising sensations in his body and simply accepted the fact that he was no longer a free man.

Chapter 11

The next morning Nick and Owen made their way into town. Nick was invigorated, having slept well curled next to Owen’s warm body. They hadn’t gotten to the bondage scenario last night after all but he’d promised Owen that it was still in the cards. Owen glanced at him with a smile as they drove.

“What?” Nick asked as he navigated a curving road with a sheer drop on the side to the sea below.

Owen laughed. “We made quite a bit of noise last night. Do you think Don heard us?”

Nick frowned. “He didn’t say anything at breakfast, and believe me, he would have. These walls at the cottage are stone and pretty solid, so I hope we weren’t overheard.” He braked sharply to avoid a cat shooting across the street as they entered the village with its stone houses, seaside cottages and bed and breakfast signs dotted at what seemed like every second residence.