Lush in Lace (17 page)

Instead of the head of his cock against my
ass, Rylan dropped his forehead against my back in frustration. “I
don’t have any lube,” he groaned dejectedly.

He couldn’t see me smiling as I reached into
my jacket pocket and pulled out a packet. I’d placed it there
earlier in anticipation of this very moment.

He greedily took it from me. “Thank god,” he
hissed, making quick work of slicking both his cock and my hole
with the slippery fluid.

In the next instant, he was inside me. Rylan
filled me completely, driving the length of his cock as deep as he
could get while spreading my ass open to accept him. This was how
it was with us—fast, frenzied, and desperate to feel connected to
one another. We’d been together for eleven months now and still
couldn’t get enough of each other.

Rylan thrust into my ass hard and fast, so
wild that I had to brace my hands on the wall to keep the chair
from falling over. It felt amazing.

“I’m gonna come, Scott. Oh fuck. Tell me now
if you don’t want it in your ass,” he rushed out.

“I want it. Give it to me. Fill me,” I
pleaded. We’d stopped using condoms months ago, and Rylan knew how
much I loved the feel of his warm cum filling me. He wouldn’t deny
me, even tonight in my rented tux.

When Rylan orgasmed, I was sure his grunts of
pure pleasure could be heard out in the hall as he emptied himself
into my ass. Thankfully, the supply room was on the second floor
and far enough away from the crowd that the possibility of being
overheard was unlikely.

Too soon, Rylan pulled out, wrapping his arms
around my back, kissing my hair, my neck, and anywhere else he
could reach. “Your turn,” he whispered when he felt me shiver
against him.

Switching our positions slightly, Rylan sat
in the chair facing me while I stood in front of him. My hard cock
was still uncomfortably trapped beneath the blue nylon.

“Oh god,” I hissed, closing my eyes as Rylan
began to stroke me through the sheer fabric. “Please,” I begged,
wanting him to release my cock.

He didn’t, at least not all of it. Instead,
Rylan pulled the pantyhose down just enough to expose my head. He
sat forward and took the tip of my dick into his mouth while
stroking my shaft and balls through the nylon. With his free hand,
he cupped my ass, finding my cum-soaked hole and thrusting two
fingers inside of me. I didn’t stand a chance after that. If
possible, I was louder than Rylan when I shouted and cursed through
one of the best orgasms of my life.

When Rylan had swallowed every bit of my
seed, he released me. Holding on to his shoulders, I stepped out of
my now ruined hose, which we used to clean ourselves up as best we
could.

“Now I’m gonna have to go commando,” I
chuckled, reaching for my pants.

“Nope. I brought you these,” Rylan offered,
holding out a pair of white lace manties.

I recognized them as the same pair from the
night of BJ and Jamie’s wedding—the ones from our original bet.

“You kept them?” I asked, surprised. “You
said you’d give them to another guy.”

“There’s never been, nor will there ever be,
another man in my life, Lush,” Rylan stated, his suddenly serious
gaze causing my heart to accelerate rapidly.

“What are you saying?” I asked, hopeful yet
cautious.

“And here I thought you were getting smarter,
dumb-ass.”

“Spell it out for me, Squeaker.”

I felt pinned beneath the intensity of his
gaze. “Will you marry me, Scott?” he asked, looking up at me from
his position in the chair.

I touched his face lovingly, my heart
flooding with emotion, and my lips wanting desperately to form into
the words he deserved to hear.

I couldn’t do it. Not like this.

“No. No way,” I replied with conviction. If
we were going to get engaged, we were going to do it right.

Sadly, I’d never seen a more dejected look on
Rylan’s face. He jumped up from his seat on the chair, angrily
snatching his pants from the floor, ready to storm out the
door.

Fuck!
I didn’t want to hurt him—quite
the opposite.

With one of my large hands, I forcefully
pushed him back down onto the chair.

“There you go again, jumping to conclusions,
Squeaker,” I tsked, knowing I only had a few moments to make my
point before Rylan left. “You didn’t let me finish. There are some
things that even the man wearing the lace undies needs to do for
himself.”

“Such as?” he asked bitterly.

“Asking for a man’s hand in marriage the
right way,” I informed him while settling down onto one knee on the
cold concrete floor.

I watched Rylan’s expression change in an
instant—from hurt and angry to totally confused yet eager.

“I only plan on doing this once in a
lifetime, Squeaker, so I want it to be perfect.” I reached into my
jacket pocket to pull out the small velvet box I’d placed there
earlier.

“Rylan Madden, you’re a conceited,
overbearing know-it-all who gets under my skin like no one else,” I
began. “You tease me too much, you jump to conclusions, and you’re
too damn stubborn for your own good.”

“Are you going somewhere with this, Lush?”
Rylan interrupted.

“You’re also smart, insanely talented, sexy
as hell, and you’ve always treated me like your equal. You’re fair,
funny, a good brother, and you make me laugh. You make every day
better than the day before, Rylan,” I declared honestly.

He shook his head at my words, but I ignored
him and continued.

“I take the blame for all our years apart.
You see, I was waiting for a sign—like rainbows or angels singing
or a jolt of electricity to prove to myself that you and I were
meant to be. But falling in love with you wasn’t like any of those
things for me, Ry. It was tense, awkward, frustrating, and
scary.

“I never imagined fear would be the sign I
was waiting for from the heavens, but that’s what it was. It wasn’t
until I felt the gut-wrenching fear of losing you that I realized
just how much I loved you. I couldn’t bear to live without you.
That’s the moment when I saw the rainbows, heard the angels
singing, and felt that electrical current zap my heart like a
thunderbolt.

“I never want to know the fear of losing you
again. I want you by my side always. It took me long enough to
figure out, but now that I have you, I’m never letting you go. I
love you, Rylan Madden, and I’m hoping you’ll let me spend the rest
of my life proving how much.”

I opened the box I was holding to reveal two
bands, sized perfectly to fit both our ring fingers. I knew when I
saw them in the jewelry store window that they were meant for us.
The rings weren’t traditional. They weren’t polished and radiant.
The metal of the rings was twisted, with dull- and light-shaded
flecks of white gold and platinum wound into two separate
circles.

Somehow, these two simple pieces of jewelry,
among all others, spoke to me. They told the story of Rylan and me.
Their woven shape spoke of the twists and trials we had to endure
before we could finally be together. Their stunning one-of-a-kind
design represented our love—beautiful at its best, yet different
and perhaps even ugly to some. I pictured us wearing these unique
rings with pride, knowing that—just like our relationship—they were
perfectly flawed, timeless, unbreakable, and bound together in love
forever.

“Well?” I prompted when Rylan remained
speechless.

“That’s the worst fucking proposal I’ve ever
heard,” he muttered, though I could see the sheen of unshed tears
welling in his eyes. “Do you think you could manage to repeat all
that, Lush?” He sniffled while swiping at one eye with the back of
his hand.

I smiled wide. “I’ll repeat every word, every
day for the rest of your life, as long as you give me the right
answer, Rylan.”

“Yes. Hell yes!” he replied enthusiastically.
“And might I add that it’s about damn time, dumb-ass.”

I shook my head and chuckled. “You know that
being snarky when someone proposes isn’t good etiquette, Squeaker,”
I scolded him playfully.

“Neither is taking over one man’s proposal to
do it better,” he replied, snatching his ring from the box and
placing it on his left ring finger, once again making me smile.

God, I love this man.

“But I did do it better, didn’t I?” I
provoked him.

“Yes. You did,” he agreed. Then he took the
other ring out of the box and took my left hand in his, placing the
ring on my finger. “These are beautiful. I love you so much, Lush,”
he whispered solemnly.

“Even without the sexy stockings?” I
asked.

He smiled and kissed me softly. “The
stockings are a nice bonus, Lush, but I love you just the way you
are. I always have and I always will…”

I write mostly MM porngasmic fluff—sometimes
funny, sometimes outrageous (just like me).

I believe you should always read what you
love. Personally, I can’t read anything that will tug at my
heartstrings, leave me hanging on for the next instalment, or gloss
over the sexy bits (they’re the best part). I love me some tasteful
dirty talk, and a book that can make me laugh will get 5*!

Though it’s only been a year since I fell in
love with the MM romance genre, it’s become my next new addiction.
Paranormal and taboo reads are my favourites.

In a past life, I was most likely a tall
fitness guru with an immaculate home and a thriving garden, which
totally explains my “been there, done that” attitude.

I’m currently either reading or writing the
next random book that strikes my fancy (or both).

What are you up to?

Still reading my bio?

Why?

I’m not that interesting. Go find a smutty
MM romance to read. You won’t be disappointed. :)

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Just A Game
- A M/M Erotic Romance

When Bryan reluctantly agrees to let his new
neighbor, Ben come over to watch the hockey game, he has no idea
that his gay roommate, Tim is home or that Tim has company – male
company. While Ben and Bryan are forced to endure the tell-tale
sounds of sex coming from Tim’s bedroom, desires they never knew
existed come to the surface.

This book is a fun, porngasmic tale of two straight
men who get lucky, in more ways than one. It contains erotic m/m
sexual situations and language and is therefore intended for adult
readers.

Read an Excerpt:

Fuck
! This evening was quickly going from bad
to worse.

“
Oh fuck, yeah lick it.”

Tim’s voice filtered down the hall to the couch where
Ben and I were sitting at opposite ends watching the game. I
cringed waiting for Ben’s reaction to the noise, but he seemed too
engrossed in the game to notice. As casually as I could, I reached
for the TV remote and hiked up the volume a few notches.

“
Yeah, daddy just like that. Nice and
slow.”

Fuck
! I swore under my breath, quickly
gathering the empties from the coffee table, making sure I clanged
the glass beer bottles together as loudly as possible.

“You want another?” I practically shouted at Ben.

“Sure. Thanks man,” he replied, not bothering to look
away from the screen.

I spent several minutes in the kitchen opening and
closing drawers and slamming cupboards to add to the volume level
in the small apartment space. My only saving grace was the
knowledge that Tim’s escapades usually didn’t last very long.
Hopefully he’d be done before Ben was even aware of the carnal
activities taking place right down the hall.

I returned to the couch a few minutes later, thankful
that the only sounds I could hear were coming from the TV and the
loud boom of Don Cherry’s voice as he ranted about the game while
dressed in another predictably flamboyant suit jacket.

Sadly, my reprieve lasted less than a minute, before
the obvious sound of a bedframe knocking furiously against the wall
began.

“
Yes! Yes! Fuck me deep. Harder! Harder! Fuck
you’re gonna make me cum!”

Well, there was no disguising that, I relented.

“Fuck? Is that your roommate, bro?” Ben asked,
clearly not quite as hearing impaired as I’d hoped.

“Yeah,” I mumbled, hanging my head in defeat.

“
Fuck, your cock is so fucking big!”

I could clearly see Ben’s eyes bulge in surprise.

“Shit! He’s fucking a guy in there?!” Ben asked,
incredulously.

I couldn’t blame him. When I’d first heard the sounds
of Tim’s fucking through the paper-thin walls I was horrified. Not
because Tim was gay. I knew that when we moved in together. It was
because he was so loud during sex. It was like he wanted everyone
to know he was getting his ass fucked by some random cock.

Eventually, I got over it with the help of ear plugs
and a white noise making machine that I used regularly on weekends.
Tim had always been that flighty friend you have a love/hate
relationship with. Most of the time I loved the guy, he was smart,
funny-as-hell and totally comfortable in his own skin. I respected
that. We’d been friends since tenth grade. However, tonight was one
of those nights when I wanted to wring his little neck. I’d give
anything if he’d just shut-the-fuck-up.

“No. Actually, my roommate is the one getting
fucked,” I replied, honestly.

“Are you serious?!” Ben asked, not bothering to
conceal his shock.

“Afraid so,” I replied, knowing this was the part
where Ben got up, took his beer, called me and Tim a bunch of
queers, and headed out the door as fast as his big body could take
him. It wouldn’t matter to him that I was straight or that Tim was
an adult who could do anything he wanted in his own home. A jock
like Ben would be horrified at the thought of two men fucking and
leave.