Boats in the night (9 page)

Giles glared into those laughing eyes and took a savage bite of his sandwich. His

mouth filled with a delicious garlicky flavour. “This is good,” he exclaimed, surprised.

“Told you. They’ve got more bite to ‘em, the wild salads. You’d taste them even better without the ham.”

“But I like a bit of meat too.”

“Yeah, I remember.”

The lewd glint in Smutty’s eyes and the way he shifted in his chair made Giles’s

breath catch. What would he have to lose by asking? The worst that would happen would be Smutty laughing at him, and since he’d already done that plenty of times, Giles knew he could cope.

And if he was turned down? Then he’d have the perfect excuse to go and pour a glass

of Merlot, wouldn’t he?

Giles cleared his throat a few times and gripped the edge of the table top. It was a good, solid slab of hardwood and the legs were certainly sturdy. “Erm, about what you said earlier… Were you serious about wanting to do that?”

Smutty lifted a quizzical eyebrow. “You’ll need to give me more to go on there, Giles.

I’m not a mind reader.”

“You know. You said… About this table. You suggested—”

“Have you been thinking about that all this time?” Smutty’s smirk was positively

infuriating. “Gods, of course you have. We didn’t finish you off, did we? Have you been sitting there, picturing it, getting all hot and bothered? No wonder you look like you’ve just run a marathon in a heatwave.”

Giles picked at a dent in the tabletop with his fingernail. He wasn’t going to look up to meet the mockery in Smutty’s eyes.

But then a hand landed on his, stilling its motion and lacing their fingers together. “It’s okay to ask for what you want, Giles.” Smutty’s voice was soft, intimate, with no trace of derision. “I’d like to know, and if it suits me too, we’ll do it.”

Was it really that easy? You just had to ask? It hadn’t worked that way with Fabian.

Giles had a moment of clarity, realising that the derisive laughter he’d been expecting was nothing to do with Smutty, but everything to do with how Fabian had reacted to Giles’s fantasies the few times he’d dared to divulge them.

“Come on Giles, tell me. What are you picturing?”

Giles pulled out the condom and lube. When he placed them on the table, Smutty

drew in a sharp breath. Giles dared a quick glance at his face, but it wasn’t fear or apprehension he saw there—only arousal, dilating his pupils and flushing his lips. It gave him the courage to go on.

“I want you naked, bent over the table, gripping onto the sides.” Giles’s voice came out rough and needy, but he forced himself to finish. “I want to fuck you so long and hard, you forget how to speak.”

“Are you saying I talk too much?”

“I told you what I want.”

“Okay.”

Had Smutty just agreed to go along what Giles wanted? Or was he simply affirming

that Giles had indeed told him what he wanted?

Smutty’s smile softened and he squeezed Giles hand again. “Okay, that sounds like

fun. But how about we wait until I’ve had a shower? I’m absolutely mingin’.”

Minging? Giles had heard the pupils at school use the word and had a good idea of

what it meant, but hearing it from a grown man pulled forth a sharp burst of laughter.

“What? I am. Seriously, I’ve been working all morning and I’m proper sweaty.”

Smutty took a quick sniff of his armpit and wrinkled his nose. “Yep, mingin’.”

“I don’t care.” Giles was surprised to realise he really didn’t. To prove it, he gripped Smutty’s wrist and pulled him close. There was a moment when he thought Smutty would end up on the floor, but somehow he gave an agile twist and ended up astride Giles lap. Giles buried his face in Smutty’s armpit and took a deep breath. Yes, there was a strong tang of sweat, but it didn’t smell bad, more honest and manly. In fact, the scent sent even more of his blood racing down to his dick.

Giles groaned when he felt Smutty’s hand close around his erection.

“All right, I believe you.” Smutty’s voice sounded as hoarse as Giles’s had been.

“Let’s do this.”

Chapter Eleven

Giles kicked the chair back as he stood, dimly registering the sound of it hitting the flagstones but not caring enough to set it right. All his senses were focused on the man in front of him. The man now sitting on the edge of Giles’s kitchen table and stripping his Tshirt off. Giles stepped between Smutty’s legs, desperate for a taste of him.

Smutty leant back and parted his lips to Giles’s kiss, responding enthusiastically but letting him lead. His mouth tasted like summer—ripe and sultry. Giles chewed on that generous lower lip, thrilled to hear the low groan that vibrated through Smutty’s body. He wanted to press up close and grind into hot flesh, but Smutty was busy unbuttoning Giles’s shirt and it would be so much better without clothing in the way. Giles decided to speed things up, tearing at the fly of Smutty’s jeans and diving inside.

Yet again, Giles was momentarily intimidated by the size of him. He tried to shake it out of his head, this fixed idea of his that a well endowed man would want to top, but it proved more stubborn than he’d expected.

“Are you sure this is okay?” Giles asked, wanting to kick himself for his accursed

manners. Why the hell couldn’t he just take what he wanted?

“Am I complaining? For fuck’s sake, Giles, I’ll tell you if it isn’t. You should be able to feel for yourself how much I want this.” Smutty accompanied his words with a jerk of his hips, rubbing the tip of his dick against Giles’s now naked belly. “Just make sure you use plenty of lube. It’s been a while. I’m getting more choosy as I get older.”

Giles realised he didn’t have a clue how old Smutty was. He didn’t even know his

proper name. The mystery of it was more arousing than he’d ever have expected. There was something kinky about it, giving a frisson of an anonymous, back-alley encounter but without the attendant risk.

“What? You’re giving me a funny look,” Smutty said, laughter leaking into his voice.

“You don’t believe me, do you?”

“I was just thinking I don’t know anything about you. You could be anywhere

between twenty and forty. I don’t know where you grew up, or your real name, or anything like that.”

“Do you want to know? All that stuff’s kinda boring.”

Giles thought for a moment. “I’m not sure. I used to think that kind of thing was

important.”

Smutty snorted. “Yeah, right. You think way too much, Giles.”

Giles couldn’t hold enough of a coherent thought together to respond. Not when

Smutty’s hands were working their way into his trousers and taking hold of him. He couldn’t think of anything much other than the touch of those deft fingers and the way they massaged his shaft and explored his sac. But Smutty was still talking, and he made an attempt to listen.

“I know you think I’m just a feckless hippie coz I grew up in a commune, but not

everyone ends up like me.” Smutty’s fingers rippled up and down, drawing a low moan from Giles, but he still wouldn’t stop talking. “There was this other kid, Finn. His mum was a smackhead so he was brought up like my brother, but he always had big ambitions to be a respectable businessman and make shed-loads of money. He buggered off and we never heard from him again.”

There was a thread of sadness in Smutty’s voice, but Giles couldn’t care less about

any of the other hippie children. Not when Smutty was doing
that
with his hands. “Sorry, is there a point to this story?”

“Yeah, patience, man. I’m getting there.” Smutty tugged gently on Giles’s balls, “It just goes to show, you have to take people as they are now. Doesn’t matter what their background is, if you live in the moment.”

“You talk too much. Jeans off, now.”

Smutty cocked his eyebrow and Giles thought for a moment he’d pushed things too

far, but then the wide grin was back. Smutty wriggled off the table, dropped his jeans and turned his back to Giles.

“Like this, yeah?” Smutty said, bending over the narrow side of the table and

thrusting his arse out. “It’s gonna feel fantastic, when you ram your cock into me. Hope you can make it last a while. I wanna be able to still feel you tomorrow.” He wriggled obscenely and walked his feet apart so his cheeks parted.

It was even better than the fantasy. Giles had forgotten how bright Smutty’s flame

tattoo was. He ran his hand down over the inked skin, enjoying the way Smutty sighed and arched his back. His hand came to rest on Smutty’s round behind. It was a work of art, worthy of inspiring paintings and poetry. Giles had always considered the concept of muses to be a rather fanciful one, but seeing Smutty like that, he could begin to believe in a human muse. An earthy, sensual muse with a beautiful body and a filthy mouth.

“Giles, you’re thinking again, aren’t you? Here, get me ready.”

Giles took the lube and his hands went onto autopilot. He could do this. Fabian had

always needed a lot of preparation when he’d deigned to bottom, so Giles’s fingers were well trained. But then when he pressed a fingertip to Smutty’s pucker, instead of meeting resistance, the muscles there welcomed him in. He sank in to his second knuckle, enveloped by perfect, satiny heat. Smutty moaned, and Giles could feel the vibration from inside.

“You sure it’s been a while?”

“What can I say?” Giles could hear the grin on Smutty’s voice. “I’ve always been

easy. Must be all the yoga. I’m good at relaxing.”

“You weren’t last night.” Giles remembered the way Smutty had flinched as he

touched him there. How different he was today, moaning and pushing back against the

invading finger, as if begging for more.

“You came on pretty strong last night. Wasn’t sure I could trust you to follow the

rules.”

“And you trust me now?” Giles pushed in a second finger.

“Ohhh yeaaaah…”

Hearing that raw need shudder through Smutty was the most erotic thing Giles had

ever heard, and knowing that just his fingers were causing it… Before he could think about what he was doing, he pulled them out and scrabbled for the condom. The blasted thing took a bloody age to unroll because Giles’s hands were slippery with lube and he hadn’t used one in many a year. His difficulties were compounded by it being rather on the large side, no doubt some French conspiracy to bolster their reputation as the world’s best lovers. But then it was on, and Smutty was still there, still leaning forward over the table and undulating his hips like he was anticipating the pounding to come.

Giles lined up and pushed in. Slowly at first, gasping as the clinging heat gripped him, but then all restraint evaporated. There was no resistance to fight like there had been with Fabian, and he forged on ahead into the delicious pressure. Hips tight against Smutty’s behind, Giles leant down and kissed the back of his neck, just where the tip of a flame licked up his spine. The skin there was speckled with fragments of vegetation and tasted like hay.

Smutty’s breath came hard and fast, his body thrumming beneath Giles.

“Are you all right?” God, he’d gone too fast, hadn’t he?

“I’m good. Just, gimme a minute, yeah? Let me get used to you. Fuck, you feel

amazing.”

All that yoga Smutty claimed to do must have made him super-flexible, because he

managed to twist around and kiss Giles firmly. Giles grunted with surprise as Smutty’s tongue pushed into his mouth then gave himself up to it. To having his mouth plundered even as his cock was throbbing inside Smutty. He felt like one giant nerve ending, every slight shift of Smutty’s body sending shockwaves through him, every beat of his heart reverberating through every last atom of his being.

Giles wasn’t sure who started moving first, but before he’d realised what was

happening they were rocking together slowly, sensation zinging up and down his spine. He had to break the kiss or he’d come from this alone.

Smutty gasped as Giles pulled away, but then groaned obscene endearments as Giles

grabbed hold of his hips and began in earnest. Long strokes were best. He could control himself better when he wasn’t buried in that suffocating, pulsing heat. He pulled out almost all the way and made slow, shallow thrusts, watching as the ridge of his cock stretched Smutty’s rim each time. The language coming from Smutty grew so filthy Giles almost

laughed. He hadn’t heard anything that bad since he’d taught a boy with Tourette’s. But then when he thrust in deep, the heartfelt “Fuuuuck!” from Smutty was almost too much again.

Giles held back and teased for long enough to have Smutty cursing the day he was

born, arching his back in a fruitless quest for
more, deeper, now!
Then he let him have it.

Deep and fierce, hard and fast, snapping his hips until the room resounded to the slap of flesh on flesh and Smutty’s incoherent shouts. He was ready—they both were. Giles could sense it in the tightening of Smutty’s muscles around him. He slowed the tempo again and leant forward, plastering his body to Smutty’s back so he could lick the salt from that inked neck.

When Smutty twisted to kiss him again, it was a panting, open-mouthed mess. He could taste the arousal, the desperation.

Giles reached under Smutty’s body, found that dripping cock and began to stroke a

lazy rhythm in time to the rocking of their hips. Smutty was trying to speed it up, he could tell, but Giles kept control of the pace, enjoying the frantic whimpers of frustration until his balls drew tight again.

“Oh God, I’m going to—I can’t—” But it didn’t matter, because Giles could feel the

splash of wet heat over his hand. Waves of contractions around his dick pulled his climax from him. It rushed from his balls to ripple out through his whole body, every last nerve ending incandescent with joy.

Giles babbled. Something he didn’t want to remember. Something about wanting to

stay there forever. Something inappropriate.

He buried his face in Smutty’s neck. Let his breathing slow. Let the shudders subside.