Yet a Stranger (The First Quarto #2) - Gregory Ashe Page 0,148
or like light caught on the rim of a sheet of ice. Tonight, in the darkened interior of the Ford, with his pupils blown wide, they might as well have been black.
He made a sound in his throat and tried to spread his legs farther. His knee thumped the door panel.
“This is when you invite your beautiful, sexually prodigious, unbelievably generous boyfriend inside,” Shaw whispered, his fingers tracing the length of North’s dick through the denim.
North made another of those noises, but he was still relaxed against the seat. With one hand, barely more than a flick of his fingers, he beckoned Shaw closer.
Grinning, Shaw leaned over the center console. North’s movement was minimal, only a few inches, making Shaw come to him. He moved toward North’s mouth for a kiss.
At the last moment, though, North veered, his mouth coming to Shaw’s ear, and at a normal volume he said, “What about Davey?”
“Ow!” Shaw reared back so fast that he hit the car’s headliner. “North, what the hell?”
“I just remembered your crazy, abusive, controlling boyfriend Davey. I just wanted to make sure he was ok with us messing around.”
“You are really taking that the wrong way.”
North just watched him through hooded eyes. His erection was still visible through the jeans.
“I just took a few details and, you know, made something else up.”
“Uh huh.”
“You and Davey have absolutely nothing in common.”
“Uh huh.”
“He was a total figment of my imagination.”
“Uh huh.” North reached down, pretending to adjust himself, although his hand lingered long enough to suggest something else. “Except those details that you took from real life.”
“North, come on!”
“Night, Shaw.”
“Hey, hold on.” Shaw caught his wrist, drawing North’s hand to the bulge in his own jeans. He let out a satisfied noise and rutted softly against North’s palm. “It’s been almost a week,” Shaw whispered. “And last time, we didn’t even get to do a sleepover.”
“We’re not ten, Shaw.” But his fingers curled possessively, rubbing slow and hard against Shaw’s dick.
Shaw made another of those appreciative noises; he didn’t miss the flush speckling North’s throat. Leaning over the console again, he stroked North and found him, if anything, even harder than before. “Please? I want you to fuck me.”
The rumble in North’s throat was almost a growl. “Is that what you need, baby?”
Shaw nodded.
“Say it,” North ordered.
“I need it. I need you to fuck me.”
North’s grin was sharp and sudden. “Then ask Davey.”
“North!”
North’s grin got bigger.
Shaw slapped his erection.
“Holy Christ, Shaw!” North folded, covering himself. “What the fuck?”
“You’re being a brat.”
“Did you just fucking spank my cock? And not even in the fun way, I might add?”
“Quit being so mouthy,” Shaw said, “and take me inside and fuck me.”
“You’re a fucking monster.”
Shaw turned off the car and withdrew the keys from the ignition. “Now, North.”
North grumbled the whole way to the front door. He let them inside, and the puppy—North’s puppy—was there, waiting for them. He immediately started yipping, dancing around their heels, clawing at North’s legs.
“Hello,” North cooed. “Gotta take care of him first.”
“He’s a fucking cockblock,” Shaw called after him. “This is worse than having children. Children you can just lock in their rooms when daddy needs some dick.”
North pointed at the ceiling and glanced back long enough to reply softly, “Keep shouting; I’m sure Mr. Winns is interested in what daddy needs.”
Face hot, Shaw locked the door behind him and headed into North’s bedroom. He left the sherpa cloak on a chair, kicked off the engineer boots, and climbed onto the bed. A few minutes later, North was there too, toeing off his Redwings, rucking up the sweatshirt he’d worn. He peeled it off, exposing the dense slabs of muscle, the old scar on his side, his chest and belly covered by thick blond fur. He crawled between Shaw’s legs, ran his hands up Shaw’s thighs, and kissed him. Then he pulled back, palming Shaw through his jeans, a smirk plastered on his face.
“Why are you being so mean to me tonight?”
“Keep whining,” North said, eyebrows shooting up, “and you’re going to find out how mean I can be.”
Huffing a breath, Shaw reached for North’s waistband. He unbuttoned the jeans, worked the fly down, and pulled out North’s dick. North shivered and let out a breath. Shaw stroked him slowly, watching North’s eyes glaze.
Then Shaw’s gut twisted.
North was tugging on Shaw’s shirt, trying to turn him out of it, his fingers warm and rough.