Just a Little Heartache (The Brotherhood #5) - Merry Farmer Page 0,36

side of Blake’s face.

“This is all new to me,” Blake whispered in return. “I want as much of it as possible. I want you as much as possible.”

“And you’ll have me,” Niall smiled tenderly. His tenderness shifted to teasing. “So much that we’ll both walk around in a constant state of exhaustion, if we’re not too sore to be capable of walking.”

“It’ll be the best kind of exhaustion and the best kind of soreness,” Blake insisted, kissing him and rolling Niall to his back. “And it will last for the rest of our lives.”

Chapter 8

What followed was the most blissful fortnight of Niall’s life. Unashamed, unapologetic, he spent every night in Blake’s bed. They had to make excuses, miss pressing engagements, and ignore previous commitments, but every night ended with them breathless and spent in each other’s arms. Even when evening rehearsals for the play began as the performance date drew near, they found a way to end up naked and transported in each other’s arms.

That didn’t mean the letters stopped, though. Every afternoon, Niall penned a new love letter, detailing everything the two of them explored together in lurid detail, and every evening he’d receive an equally lurid reply. They started reading their letters aloud to each other once they were finally alone and in bed, late into the night, and acting out their wildest fantasies with each other.

By the day of the play’s one and only performance, Niall knew they’d crossed into dangerous territory.

“We should practice our kiss,” Blake said with a rakish, sideways look as they sat side by side in front of the mirrors that had been set up in the dressing room they shared backstage.

“I thought that’s what we’ve been doing all week,” Niall answered with a coquettish flicker of one eyebrow. “John and David think we’re ridiculous.”

“I don’t care what your friends think. We haven’t gotten kissing quite right yet.” Blake grinned, pivoting to face him on his stool. He slid his hand along Niall’s thigh, dipping to brush the spot where more than one bright red mark stood out against the pale skin near Niall’s balls beneath the skirt he wore.

Niall failed to hide his giggle as he thanked heaven the heavy skirt of his costume did far more to hide his excited state than trousers ever could. He wasn’t one to dress in drag, but he could suddenly see how it had its advantages. Blake’s costume was far less concealing.

“We should probably run those lines one last time, just to be sure,” Niall said in a playfully sensual voice.

Blake stood, extending a hand to help Niall to his feet. “Come, my darling. Let us celebrate our union instead of denying it. Let all the kingdom celebrate with us.”

Niall sagged easily into Blake’s arms, slanting his mouth over his and indulging in a kiss that was absolute madness, considering the dressing room door stood open behind them. He couldn’t help but sigh as Blake’s tongue danced with his. Blake’s taste was so familiar to him now. He knew every contour of Blake’s body, but still couldn’t get enough. He circled a hand around Blake’s waist and let it drop to his backside—a backside that was now very limber and used to intimate invasion.

“How much time do we have before places are called?” Blake whispered against his cheek as he moved to kiss Niall’s neck, as he loved to do. He loved it so much that Niall had had to starch his collars and conceal the evidence with stage make-up in the last few weeks.

Blake’s question was answered by the approach of heavy footsteps, and a moment later, Paul stuck his head into the room to ask, “Do you want to lead us through vocal warm-ups? Because Ian just told me that the lobby is already crowded with people eager to see the play.”

“That’s a good idea,” Niall said breathlessly. He’d leapt out of Blake’s arms well before Paul caught a glimpse of him, but he was overheated and knew he looked as guilty as sin all the same.

“I’ll let the rest of the cast know,” Paul said. He leaned away, then his face pinched slightly as he stepped forward again. “You may want to fix your lip rouge before you leave this room. It’s a little obvious what you’d been up to.”

“We aren’t up to anything,” Blake said, a little too quickly.

Paul merely laughed and stepped away, into the hall. A moment later, they heard his voice call, “Vocal warm-ups on the stage,