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Authors: Lydia Nyx

Tags: #Gay Romance

From Morocco to Paris (3 page)

BOOK: From Morocco to Paris
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“You did it?”

“Only the instant I got through the door. I did it against the door, actually. Thought maybe I could hear you through it.”

“You really are a pervert.”

“I was thinking about sucking you off.”

Zane drew a sharp breath as Davey moved his hips against him.

“God, we must be psychic,” Zane said huskily.

“We must be.” Davey ceased moving his hips and then slid down.

Despite nearly vibrating with arousal, Zane somehow helped get his own jeans and shorts down, his cock popping out with immediate need for attention. Zane still wasn’t sure, despite his body’s reaction, they should be doing this. He hoped he remembered what to do from those encounters he’d tried so hard to forget.

Davey said approvingly, “I see why you get the starlets.”

Zane scowled. “Knock it off with that.”

Then Zane shut his mouth, because Davey started using his.

Davey wasn’t like most women Zane had been with. He didn’t tease, or play, or spend time picking the best direction from which to approach. He went to the task without pretense, efficient and direct. Zane didn’t know which he liked more: watching those soft lips slide up and down his shaft or the fact Davey gathered his hair back and held it against the nape of his neck so Zane
watch. He wasn’t surprised Davey liked to put on a show.

Davey used his other hand to squeeze, sliding his circled fingers up and down near the base in rhythm with his mouth. His stubbled chin glanced and tickled Zane’s balls. Loose strands of hair brushed Zane’s thighs and stomach as Davey slowly relaxed his hand in his hair. Zane curled his fingers in the blankets, the rest of his body rigid. He could barely breathe.

“Do you want me to come?” Zane whispered shakily.

Davey slowed. Not once had he given his jaw a break. He popped his mouth off. They hadn’t turned any lights on, but light from the patio filtered in the windows, casting a muted glow. Davey’s eyes were bright, cheeks flushed, lips dark.

“Do you want to?” Davey asked.

“Fuck, yes,” Zane said. Almost outside his will, Zane moved his hips, seeking the stimulation again.

“Do you wanna fuck me?” Davey asked.

Zane stilled. Such a dangerous question. Davey sucked at his lower lip, looking at him with wide, glittering eyes. He still had his fingers laced loosely around the base of Zane’s cock.

“I…yes,” Zane finally said. “If you want to.”

“You got a condom?”

“Yeah. Hold on.”

Davey removed his hand. Zane sat up. Davey sprawled next to him and started undoing his jeans. Zane knew if he wanted to change his mind he had to do so fast -- but changing his mind seemed impossible when his body kept telling him to hell with the consequences, they’d sort things out later.

“Get something for lube too,” Davey said as Zane slid off the bed.

Zane kicked his jeans and shorts the rest of the way off, and with shirt still on and cock bobbing went to the bathroom. After a quick inspection of the counters and shelves, squinting painfully in the light, he found a bottle of complimentary bath oil. The condoms were in his travel bag. He got one and took the items to the bed.

“Where did you learn to suck cock like that?” Zane asked.

Davey had his shirt off and started pushing his jeans off as well.

“Same place as everyone else,” Davey said.

Zane watched Davey kick his jeans and underwear aside. Even in the half light, Zane saw he had a very nice body -- slender, sinewy, but with a good bit of muscle in his arms and legs; a broad chest and a smooth, tight abdomen.

Since he couldn’t see very well Zane used his sense of touch to assess Davey’s physique better. After a few slow caresses over Davey’s chest and stomach, he decided to just go for the prize and wrapped a hand around his cock.

“Mmm,” Davey said as he moved his hips. “Where’d you learn to do that?”

“Same place as everyone else.”

Davey leaned in for a kiss. Zane could smell his own musk and hesitated. After the initial touch though, he just tasted Davey’s lips and tongue, tangy and sweet from the wine. Zane rolled his palm over the head of his cock, gathering wetness, and slicked the natural lubricant down the shaft to make his strokes smoother.

“God,” Davey gasped against his lips. Then he moaned.

“Am I gonna have to stuff a rag in your mouth?” Zane asked.

“God, please do. Tie me up too, if you will.”

Davey wrapped a hand around Zane’s cock as well and started to mimic him. Zane shuddered and nuzzled in the wildness of his hair, the salty smell of the sea air clinging to the silken strands. Zane kissed across his collarbone, then his shoulder, and gave the delectable curve a little nip. Davey hissed softly.

“I don’t receive,” Zane said, trying to sound firm through the waves of pleasure emanating from his groin. “I’m sorry, it just doesn’t sound -- well -- “

“Oh, I do.”

Davey released Zane’s cock, then drew away and rolled onto his stomach, the curving silhouette of his back and buttocks traced by the light.

“I love it,” Davey said. “You’ll hear no complaints from me.”

Zane fumbled for the needed items on the bed. “You’ve done this before?”

“Like you haven’t. Come on.”

The bath oil had an obnoxiously fruity scent; Davey must have smelled it too as he looked over his shoulder and snickered.

“You don’t have any real lubricant?” Davey asked.

“I don’t usually plan on fucking guys.” Zane didn’t warm the oil, just squeezed the fluid down the crack of Davey’s ass, making him jump.

“I have some!” Davey said. “It’s good for taking matters into your own hands, if you get my drift.”

“Why didn’t you say that, instead of sending me to find something?”

“It’s in my room, duh. I could go get it, though.”

“Too late.”

Zane took a deep breath. He’d done this before, prepared another man, though he wouldn’t admit to the experience if Davey asked -- but then, he figured he wouldn’t need to ask, his knowledge would be obvious.

He carefully slid one oil-slicked finger into Davey’s passage and found him tight and hot. Davey moaned deliciously, making Zane’s cock strain with anticipation of getting in there. Davey worked his hips so Zane barely had to move his hand at all.

“You love it, huh?” Zane asked him.

“Yes. God, I do. Give me the condom.” Davey twisted his arm around and held his hand back to Zane. “I’ll open it while you do that.”

Zane plucked the little foil packet off the bed and pressed it into Davey’s palm.

“You know,” Zane said, “I bet our soldiers do fuck like animals after they’ve been on the march all day.” He added more oil and eased a second finger in. The fruity scent, while appalling, also amused him.

“Oh yes.” Davey sounded pleased Zane had started playing along. “I bet they ride the hell out of each other.”

“Ride each other like horses.”

“I bet they fuck so hard they can barely walk the next morning.”

“Let’s find out.”

Zane slid his fingers out and Davey groaned softly.

Zane hadn’t thought to bring a towel, and after a moment’s debate, wiped his fruity oil-covered fingers on the bedspread, sparing a thought for the poor unsuspecting housekeepers.

Davey handed the condom back to him and Zane took the little rubber circle, slick between his fingers. Zane didn’t think he’d ever get his senses about him enough to put the damn thing on, discombobulated by Davey’s thighs pressed against his and seeing the slope of his back glistening with sweat in the dull light, not to mention Davey’s tangled hair, spread over the pillow, whispering to Zane to grab and pull. Davey’s soft, impatient sighs added to the distraction. Once Zane had the condom on though, he slid inside Davey quick enough, his inner heat dulled only a little by the thin rubber. Davey moaned and gripped the pillows.

“That’s good,” Davey gasped. “Oh, fuck me.”

Zane liked his sex partners loud, liked to know he was getting the job done. Davey had no qualms about playing his part. He cried out sharply with every inward thrust and let out a breathy moan on each withdrawal. Davey didn’t go supple or submissive, instead pushing back and demanding more with his entire body. He just had his hips elevated at first but eventually got up on his hands and knees.

Zane wanted to tell Davey he felt fucking exquisite inside, but his brain had short-circuited and he’d forgotten how to speak. Watching the light move across Davey’s back, watching him toss his hair, Zane’s fingers itched and flexed on Davey’s hips. Finally, Zane grabbed a nice sweaty handful of Davey’s hair. Davey shrieked like a demon and slammed back so hard the shock shot down Zane’s thighs.

“Yes!” Davey snarled. “That’s it. That’s it!”

The bed seemed sturdy, but they got it to move. Davey made short work of the bedclothes, pulling the sheets free of the mattress. Zane gripped his hair hard, pulled his head back, and rode him into utter ecstasy, completely helpless to do anything else.

By the time he spilled into the condom Zane thought he would die from the intensity.

Zane barely had his senses when Davey slid off his cock, then turned over beneath him and drew Zane down onto his hot, trembling body. Davey pulled Zane’s hand between them, to his cock.

“Finish me off,” Davey half-ordered, half-begged.

Zane gripped him and stroked with what strength he had left, face pressed against Davey’s sweat-soaked neck. Davey squirmed, and clung, and dug his nails into Zane’s shoulders, and at last locked his legs around Zane’s waist, and went stiff with a harsh cry. Davey came hot and wet over his own already hot, wet skin.

Afterward, cooling off and calming down, sprawled next to each other, Zane closed his eyes and smiled lazily.

“Mmm, damn,” Zane said. “Now that’s some afterglow.”

“Endorphins,” Davey said, sounding equally spaced-out. “The harder you do it, the sharper it is, and the longer it lasts.”

Zane just tried to enjoy the aftermath without dwelling too much on the implications of what had just happened. He’d had a lot of conditioning in his formative years that whispered now in the back of his brain, telling him what he’d just done was very bad. He didn’t want to entertain the guilt and negativity, not when he felt so good.

The air smelled like fruit and jizz. The oil bottle rested against Zane’s left foot. When the blissful haze receded, Zane turned on the bedside lamp and located the wastebasket. He deposited the condom in the little can under the bedside stand, got up, fetched them some towels to clean up with from the bathroom, and crawled back in bed.

“God, my ass is gonna hurt so bad tomorrow,” Davey lamented. “Not to mention my head.” He touched his scalp gingerly, wincing.

“Sorry about that. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“It was a great fucking idea.” Davey plucked a towel from Zane’s hand. “You smoke?”

“I quit like three years ago,” Zane said and stretched out on his back again.

“I’ve never been habitual, but I like to smoke after sex,” Davey said. “I have a pack in my room. Want me to go get them?”

“Are you determined to usurp
my resolve?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Davey asked.

“Never mind.” Zane didn’t want to explain his father, though long dead, seemed to be lurking in the shadows in the corner of the room right at that moment, leering threateningly.

After Davey cleaned up, he rolled over and nudged his chin against Zane’s shoulder.

“I bet they’re doing it right now,” Davey said. “We should go find out.”

“Nah, they won’t answer the door. We’ll wait ‘til breakfast.”


Davey stayed the night in Zane’s room. Despite the size of the bed, early in the morning Zane awoke to find Davey pressed against him and both of them to one side of the mattress. Zane went back to sleep. Elliot wasn’t calling him so his workday hadn’t started.

At breakfast, Elliot and Cristiano looked tired but quietly happy. Zane could feel his wallet getting lighter. Davey, looking smug, watched them as he ate. Davey at least had the decency to wait until Cristiano went to the restroom before he swooped in on Elliot.

“Did you guys do it last night?” Davey asked, leaning across the table conspiratorially, fork in hand.

Elliot looked aghast. “God! That’s none of your fucking business!”

Davey whacked Zane on the arm with his fork. “

“Davey! What the fuck!” Zane yelped. So much for keeping his mouth shut.

“I’m not quite as easy as either of you,” Elliot said, seemingly unaffected by the proclamation. “Mind your own damn business.”

Cristiano returned, and Elliot declared they were leaving for the set.

“Be right after you,” Zane said. He intended to have a few words with Davey.

As Elliot and Cristiano turned away Zane heard Elliot mutter, “I won, pay up.”

In their wake, Zane and Davey stared.

“Those conniving bastards!” Davey said and plunked his fork down. “Oh, it’s on now. It’s

Zane wasn’t sure if he should be embarrassed or if mortification would be the more appropriate emotion.

“Come on, we better get to set,” Zane said curtly. “Thanks for keeping it a secret, by the way.”

“Oh please, obviously they already knew.”

“You said you wouldn’t tell anyone!”

“I just told two gay guys you had gay sex. What a horror.”

“Just shut up.”

They rose and followed the other two. Some distance ahead on the patio, Elliot looked over his shoulder and smirked.

“Do you think Napoleon would have tolerated that sort of insolent behavior?” Davey asked.

“No,” Zane said and pushed up his sleeves. “Catch those bastards.”

Cristiano could run like hell, and he dragged Elliot with him. Zane was kind of glad they were too fast to catch. Smacking his boss in the mouth would probably get him fired.

Chapter 3

“What do you suppose they used for lube in Napoleon’s time?” Davey asked.

The one-sided conversation had been going on for three days. Davey picked up the thread as though it had never been dropped at every opportunity -- in between takes, while sewing buttons onto jackets, even over dinner. Every time he opened his mouth his sentences started with, “Do you think in Napoleon’s day homosexuals…?” or “What do you think male lovers in Napoleon’s time…?” Zane wondered if he was really interested in the answers or he just liked the sound of his own voice.

BOOK: From Morocco to Paris
7.38Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

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