“No. I want you…to stay. So, okay.”
Pft, that was a bit of a no-brainer. Joe could always tweak the rules a tad, later. A spot of tweaking was fine sport indeed when he was bored…and he’d been bored t’buggery of late. That last part was a bit of a fib but, suffice to say, matters had gone a…mite amiss. Bummer. If Joe had known his mishaps would reap such bad-ass rewards, he could’ve cooked up a more impressive plummet.
Mac must have deemed that a satisfactory response as he started trickling a taser trail of fingertips down the centre of Joe’s chest. Down, down, to his belly button in a torturous tickle that skirted its dip, lower still…to skim along Joe’s happy—nooooo. Mac whipped his hand away, just as it neared the tip of Joe’s clamouring cock.
It was not the only thing that felt like flippin’ weeping. The grin that accompanied this dastardly deed was as dark as it was downright delicious. Ev-il incarnate, that’s what he was. Nemesis, my arse. He was the devil dipped in Caramac and dangled in front of Joe’s nose like a bad-ass buffet. How he ached to be crushed beneath that steely strength…oh, so close but light years away, tormenting Joe with his very… existence.
Joe fully expected Mac to stop for a smoke break roundabout then, or pop out to purchase some sheets in a sudden change of heart or…unleash whatever else that blackguardy brain rustled up.
What the bad-ass did instead, was even more staggering. Even if Joe had expected it, nothing could’ve prepared him for the seismic shock to his system caused by the cocking of Mac’s leg to seat him astride Joe’s hips…which is what did happen. Unless Joe had lost the plot, which seemed much more possible than being accosted by Mac’s crotch. That said, if Joe had wished it into being? His bad-ass would be bare-ass naked. No doubt about it. A fact as definitive as a deed signed in blood.
Joe’s entire self had been thrumming like a snare drum in dreadful anticipation—of…being abandoned—as if he’d snorted adrenaline rather than smack. So, when Mac helped himself to a wee sit down, the rush of relief was almost as breath-snatching as the bolt of blimey that blitzed Joe’s body.
“Ooh, so impatient…” The scoundrel smirked. Did that mean; all good things come to he who waits…? Joe might just burst into flames first. Despite the most sadistic soggy patch he’d ever been forced to suffer. Pfffh. “Mac, I—”
“Shhh…” Not content with shushing him, Mac actually placed a forefinger on Joe’s lips.
Joe did consider biting it, but figured it would be best not to gift Mac more ammunition to use against him. Never, had Joe been so glad he hadn’t done something in his life. A novel notion in itself, but that was beside the point…because when Mac did whip his finger away, he replaced it with his mouth. It was a triple whammy slam of skin on skin, chest to chest, crushed beneath hard heat. Panther hips tilted just so by the kiss laying waste to his lips. Every bit as toe-tingling as their first, in the bath but better, because Mac instigated it. This, while skimming his palms along the sensitive underside of Joe’s arms, heading toward his wrists; straining at the reassuring strength of their bonds.
When Mac did snatch his mouth away, leaving Joe’s lips bereft, it was merely to smudge it across his jaw to fasten at his neck. A small mewl slipped free when the bloom of a bruise began prickling to the surface; a fierce suction that relented only to start its drugging tug afresh.
“Mac. Please…” Joe didn’t even know what he was pleading for, just…more. Much more…when too much would never be enough.