Chapter Five

Arthur

Having confirmed that the check and cruise tickets were in fact real, I expected Bailey to leave. When he didn’t, I tried to pretend that I was alone which was damn difficult to do. I reached for the glass on the counter and drained the Grey Goose I had been nursing since I got home fifteen minutes ago. I had the intention of savoring every drop, but now I wanted to reach for the bottle and down everything at once. My throat was parched, and it was all because of the way Bailey was looking at me. The way he wouldn’t leave although I wasn’t holding him hostage. Good lord, didn’t he understand that I was trying to be nice? My veneer was cracking each minute he hung around.

I slammed the glass on the counter and sensed rather than saw the way he jumped, as I refrained from looking at him. I had to know before I initiated anything between us.

“How old are you, Bailey?” His name on my lips felt like I had been using it long before now. It didn’t feel strange calling him Bailey at all. Referring to him as Haughton was always so formal and maintained the professional distance between us. He had bridged that gap of professionalism when he offered me free reign of his name. I didn’t mind him still calling me sir, especially while I was balls deep inside of his body. The tightening at the front of my linen pants made me aware of just how much I wouldn’t mind.

“Uh-I’m twenty-three,” he answered, his voice low and breathless. “Why?”

I ignored his question and asked another of mine. “There are two premium-class tickets in that envelope. Taking anyone special?”

“Hmm.” He cleared his throat. “I-well-jeez, I just saw it, and I still haven’t wrapped my head around it. I can’t really think of anyone off the top of my head.”

I turned my head to stare at him. I had the answer I wanted. If he had someone special in his life, he wouldn’t have to think that hard about who he would be taking. And if he was single and looking, and goddammit he was staring, then there was nothing stopping me anymore.

Slipping from the stool, I approached him. His brown eyes widened. I’d never noticed them before and the little amber flecks that seemed to quiver. I watched his chest expand with his long exhale, and the way he swallowed. He was just as affected by me as I was by him.

“It’s not my imagination, is it, Bailey?” I decided I enjoyed using his Christian name. It reminded me of Bailey's Rum Cream, which I had become accustomed to from one of my visits to Jamaica where they produced the stuff. The perfect blend of liquor and cream exploded on your tongue. My cock jerked, as thinking about the liquor brought an image to my mind, of this Bailey nutting in my mouth, his thick cum splashed on my tongue. When I was close to him, I fisted my right hand into the front of his shirt.

He glanced down, eyes wide as he took in the sight of my hand wrapping into his shirt. I allowed him the space to wrap his head around what was about to happen. When he didn’t move, I tugged. I couldn’t have moved him if he didn’t choose to come along with my gesture, so I didn’t ask him if he wanted what was about to happen. I took it for granted when his body settled against mine, when I felt the hardness of his arousal heavy against mine, when I felt the shiver run through him, that those were my greenlight.

“Sir?” the word seemed squeezed out of him. “I don’t want to lose my job.”

“You won’t.”

My right hand still clutching the front of his shirt, I raised my left to cup the back of his head and dug my fingers into his thick blond hair. He let out a moan, which was the last straw. With his eyelids lowered at half-mast, I nudged his head forward. He met me halfway so I felt comfortable enough that this passion wasn’t one-sided. He wanted me as much as I wanted him.

I had every intention of just testing the waters, but when his firm lips pressed to mine, I lost it. I wasn’t the only one. He let out a long moan, and his hand was also at the back of my head, pulling me closer. His eagerness startled me at first, so he took the lead, his lips moving over mine. He swept his tongue into my mouth, and the shock that jolted through my body at the touch against mine awakened me.

I slipped the hand that was grasping his shirt beneath the material. My palm ran over the hard ridges of his chest as I changed the dynamics of our kiss and took over. I turned us, and he matched my steps. I pressed him back to sit in the cushioned stool while I continued to devour his mouth.

I released his lips and reached for the hem of his shirt to tug it over his head.

“Fuck, what am I doing?” he moaned when I threw his shirt on top of the counter.

“What we’ve both been wanting all this time,” I answered before kissing him again. I pushed his legs apart and stepped between them. I placed my hands on the arms of the stool, trapping him. He didn’t try to move away at being cornered, but he reached for my shirt. I allowed him to get rid of it and throw it on top of his.

We were as different as day and night. I was hairy which had bothered me when I was younger, but I had since accepted myself. His chest was void of hair except for the thin line that ran down the center and disappeared into his well-worn jeans. Just below his left collarbone was a tattoo in Roman numerals which looked like a date, but I was too fucking high on his kisses to pay much attention to what the actual date was. I was too busy tugging his head back and planting kisses over his neck, down his chest and finding his nipples, one by one. I toyed with them, spending even more time than necessary because I enjoyed the sounds he made in his throat, a cross between a growl and a whimper. His head fell back, his hips thrust forward, and his hand clutched my waist, pulling me into him.

“God, I want to fuck you so bad, boy,” I mumbled, kissing my way back up to his neck. “Tell me how much you want it too.”

“I—” The word got stuck in his throat. When I glanced at his face, he was flushed.

I reached for his belt and with a few jerks had it undone. He watched me, biting into his kiss-swollen bottom lip, but didn’t protest. He raised his ass when I unsnapped the jeans and pulled. He wasn’t wearing any underwear. When I discovered this, I glanced up at him. He had a half-smile, half-embarrassing look on his face.

“Sometime you’ll have to explain your aversion to underwear,” I told him, as I allowed his jeans to sag around his ankles. I made no move to remove his shoes or his jeans. In fact, I quite enjoyed seeing him like that.

“Just a habit from childhood,” he replied and licked his lips.

I reached for his cock, swollen with desire. His body jerked and another shiver ran through him. He made a man feel ten feet tall for all his eagerness and the way he turned to mush when I touched him. This beautiful man, with his perfect body, was at my mercy. I pumped his cock, watching his reaction, the way his eyes closed, and his breathing turned ragged. His nipples looked pinched as they peaked. I couldn’t resist bending forward to capture one between my lips as I continued to pump his cock.

“Oh my god!” he gasped, squirming on the stool. He blew hard, his chest heaving as though he was working hard not to bust his nut. His balls were so fucking tight and his cock so hard I didn’t doubt how close he was to the brink. I released my hold on him because I didn’t want him coming until I was deep inside him.

“Don’t go anywhere,” I told him, pushing back from the chair. “Take the time to catch your breath. I’ll be back in five.”

I had a feeling he would be gone by the time I returned so I committed the sight of him to memory. With his hair disheveled, and lips pinker than usual, he looked half-ravished. Now if only he would stay so I could finish the job. I couldn’t blame him if he left though. I never expected the powerful attraction that was between us. I had always known from the first time Jo introduced him to me that I wanted to experience fucking him, but I never anticipated the desire to be this strong.

I took the stairs up to the upper floor and tried not to race to my bedroom. I instead gave him the time he needed to get himself dressed and to leave if he wanted. Perhaps that was best for all involved. If the sex between us happened and was as great as I anticipated, how would I have him working around the house without wanting to fuck him every time I saw him? I already fantasized about him like I had once been obsessed with Andy Star.

From my bedroom, I gathered a strip of condoms, lube and a towel. I stripped and shrugged on a robe but left it hanging open. My dick was so hard it ached. I didn’t think he was a virgin, not with the way he responded to me. He seemed experienced which I was banking on because I didn’t have it in me to do a whole lot of prepping between the two of us.

About ten minutes had passed when I descended the stairs and entered the bar. I braced myself for the disappointment of finding him gone. Instead, I had to school my surprise and not to show my elation when I found he hadn’t even moved from his position in the chair. His jeans were still right where I had left them around his ankles. The only difference was his hand lightly stroking his cock. His hand fell away when he saw me.

“Don’t stop on my account,” I told him, and when he hesitated, I approached him, kissed him and returned his hand to his cock. “In case it's missed your attention, Bailey, which I doubt it has, I've been watching you a lot. I like to watch.”

His cheeks reddened, and that gave me food for thought. He could hardly be very experienced if he was blushing like a virgin schoolboy. Or maybe he just reacted that way with a stranger.

I watched him stroking his cock, my breathing deepening to match his. He seemed to get off at me watching him, which was good because I liked watching him. His lips fell apart, and his head tilted toward the ceiling. I unwrapped a condom from the packet and sheathed myself. The lube made a funny sound when I squirted the half-filled bottle. He raised his head and watched me in turn, as I smeared lube down my sheathed cock.

Approaching him, I squirted lube in my hand and dropped the bottle onto the counter. I kissed him once, a deep toe-curling kiss with a whole lot of tongue because he tasted delicious. I shifted my attention to his cock, settling my mouth over the tip and licking his tiny split. He rocked back in the stool, which was just perfect. I sucked the head of his cock into my mouth and reached beneath him to prep him with the lube.

Slowly his body relaxed under my ministrations as I deepthroated him. His ring muscles tightened around the two fingers I had deep inside him, scissoring and twisting to stretch his muscles.

“Oh my god!” he gasped and grabbed the chair. “Mr. Parrish.”

I released his cock and grinned. “As sexy as that sounds, Bailey, why don’t you call me Arthur?”

He nodded, but couldn’t make a coherent sound. I didn’t mind driving him speechless. In fact, I was looking forward to blowing his mind. Removing my fingers, I pulled him from the chair and turned him so his back was to me. Hooking his chin with one hand, I tilted his head backward and to the side so I could kiss him. He breathed hot and heavy into my mouth, his tongue stroking mine as he reached behind himself to spread his cheeks for me. His action was all I needed.

I continued kissing him as I guided my cock to his entrance. He moaned, his body curving into mine as his pressed closer to me. I placed a hand against the hard plane of his abdomen and angled my hips forward.

“Fuck!” I exploded as I began to slide inside him. He blew hard, tried to widen his stance but his pants restricted him. I pushed his torso forward, and he grabbed onto the stool, head resting on the back support as I drove in and out of his body. I hissed a sharp breath between my teeth, the sound mingling with his moans. I worked my hips faster, deeper, giving him more. His moans and the way his ass moved, chasing my thrusts each time I withdrew pushed me closer and closer to the edge.

Resting my arms over his on the chair, I penetrated him hard, watching as sweat coated his back. I leaned forward and licked my way up his spine. He shivered, and his arms trembled. I wrapped my arms around his torso and brought his head up. He reached back to clutch me, but I gripped his arm, twisted it behind his back and fucked him the way I envisioned when he walked around the poolside in those wet shorts.

“Ah, fuck,” I groaned as the emotions became too much for me to be quiet. “Fuck, Bailey.” I squeezed his cheeks, which clenched in response. I ran my hands down his sweaty back. And all I could think of us was how the hell was I going to keep my hands off him after this?

Sensing my climax building, I reached around him and grasped his cock in my hand. “I want you to come for me,” I whispered, my breath on his cheek. “You want to come, don’t you?”

“Oh god, yes,” he moaned, his knuckles white where they were clinging to the chair back once more. “Don’t stop. Please. You…fuck...That’s so...good.”

“Yeah, it is, isn’t it?” I hissed another long breath while jerking him harder. He stiffened beneath me, losing all inability to speak. His cock twitched and pulsed as he sprayed cum over the leg of the chair and onto the floor.

I pulled out of him and ripped off the condom. I wanted to feel his lips wrapped around my cock.

“Come here, Bailey.”

He turned, and I was pleased I didn’t have to vocalize exactly what I wanted. He dropped to his knees and wasted no time popping my cock into his mouth. With that sexy moaning of his that was already stamped in my mind, he deepthroated me. That was all it took, and I was clutching his head, pulling out and thrusting back into his mouth as I came. My climax hit me with a shiver down my spine. I gasped, and in the throes of passion, my eyes met his. I couldn’t tear my gaze away as I watched him sucking and swallowing.

And damn if that didn’t turn me on even more than the actual sex. For the less than sixty seconds that our eyes met, I felt something twisting my gut, something new and different. I realized I wanted to know more about him. I wanted this to be the beginning.