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After nearly a year, Bastian Grey is growing discontent with the lack of intimacy in his relationship with Rick Claremont. Can an adopted cat be the key to a real relationship?
EXTENDED EXCERPT
Chapter
One
Friday
"Turn
over." Rick's raspy voice caressed his lips before he drew away to kneel
beside Bastian.
"I want to gaze
into your eyes while you make love to me," Bastian protested. Rick avoided
intimacy whenever and however he could. Rick's eyes narrowed at the words make love, but he didn't respond, no
doubt choosing to ignore the comment. Nevertheless, his slender, strong hands
guided Bastian onto his side, stroked gently down his spine. Bastian relaxed. At
least like this he could see Rick's face, could watch his eyes darken, his cheeks
flush.
Rick pressed a
warm, soft kiss at his nape, and Bastian moaned softly. Rick could call it
fucking but there was too much gentleness, too much caring in his touch, in the
brush of his lips, to be anything other than affection and lovemaking.
The smaller man
brushed his fingers down, tracing the muscles of Bastian's back, teasing him
into relaxing, coaxing him into position. Bastian drew his knee up to the side,
giving Rick access to his body. A cap snicked and a slick, gentle finger probed
between his cheeks, massaging gently at the opening there. Bastian sighed, pushing
into the touch. He needed that touch so much. It shocked him sometimes how much
he relied on these "dates" with Rick.
"Good
idea." Rick murmured against his spine.
"Uh?"
His body focused on the pleasure of Rick's touch, on the heat of his breath whispering
across his skin, stirring the fine hairs. The furor of his heartbeat in his
ears, the loud rush of blood nearly drowned the words out.
"Meeting at
this place today." This place meant the hotel closest to Arden 's office complex, a small, discreet
establishment in the business district that probably catered to more than its
share of nooners and cheating spouses.
"Oh, ooooh."
The acknowledgment turned to a moan of pleasure as Rick's finger slipped past the
ring of muscle and wiggled its way to his prostate. "Yes." Good idea.
Like he'd have been able to do otherwise.
The picnic lunch he'd
brought from the deli sat untouched on the little table in front of the window.
He'd barely managed to set the basket down and unpack it, scarcely shut the
drapes to ensure their privacy, when Rick arrived.
Rick hadn't taken
a moment to survey the room, to recognize the romantic scene he'd set. Hadn't
sampled the deli meal with fresh strawberries drizzled with creamy white
chocolate and champagne served in his sister's best crystal. He'd tugged
Bastian into his arms and swept him into a tide of passion that had rapidly
pulled him under. They'd landed on this bed, naked, moments later.
And now, "Now."
He groaned. Rick hummed, his mouth hovering at the base of Bastian's spine.
"Not
yet." Rick worked a second finger in alongside the first, stretching him
with frustrating slowness. Bastian writhed, wanting more of that touch on his
gland. Always with Rick, he wanted more than the man seemed to give.
"Please."
Begging for more, his cock ached, his balls tightened against his body. "I
need you." I need you to need me.
Rick stilled and
withdrew his touch. Sensation after sensation flooded Bastian. A hot kiss slid along
his tailbone. A rough tongue stroke dragged to his hip. A sharp bite shocked
him.
Bastian grabbed
his cock and stroked it roughly. Rick gasped behind him, and Bastian whimpered.
The tearing of the condom wrapper edged into his consciousness. He hated that
sound, hated what it meant. After a year of exclusive intimacy, Rick still
refused to abandon the protection. Bastian understood that meant Rick didn't
trust him. And that hurt.
The blunt head of
Rick's sheathed cock nudged against his slicked hole, and Bastian moaned again,
arching into the thrust. The stretch and burn of entry faded quickly and Rick
hissed in pleasure behind him. Bastian flexed his buttocks, squeezing his lover
tightly.
"Oh yes.
Honey," Rick murmured, close enough for breath to brush across Bastian's
lips. He opened his eyes to find Rick bent forward over him, and grasped the
opportunity to stare into his eyes as he slid slowly, completely home.
When Rick's mouth
met his, he opened eagerly, sucking the tongue that stroked along his lips,
into his mouth. Rick shoved him away and gripped his cock himself. Bastian sighed,
clutching the sheets in one clenched hand and the headboard in the other. A bit
of a control freak Rick might be, but that obsessive control most definitely paid
off in many ways.
His thumb swept across
the head of Bastian's cock with perfect pressure, slid through the beads of
precum at the slit and dragged them down to smooth his way as he stroked in
rhythm with his thrusts. The dual friction was like fire to gasoline, and he
spiraled out of control, rapidly finding himself on the verge of orgasm.
"Hmm." His
muscles seized, his heart pounded in his chest, and the sudden gush of warmth
splattered the sheets and his belly. He jerked a few times as Rick continued to
hold him, slowly becoming aware that Rick too experienced the throes of orgasm,
his body jerking as he came, filling the condom with muted warmth.
Rick drew away so
quickly, catching his breath, that Bastian didn't have time to wonder again
what that would feel like, to have his lover's heat splash inside him, coat him
intimately.
Bastian rolled to
his back, lifting his arms to capture Rick for another kiss. Rick retreated
from the kiss before it had even begun, though.
"What? Do I
have bad breath all of a sudden?" He teased, but it hurt. Intimacy was
withdrawn once sex ended. No cuddling, no
snuggling.
"My lunch
hour is up. I have to get on to work." Rick scooted backward off the bed,
refused to meet Bastian's eyes. He scooped up his underwear from the chair, and
hopped, searching for his clothes as though he'd rather look anywhere than at
Bastian.
"Wait. Rick,
I'm leaving town for my long weekend this afternoon. You have time off too. Arden told me," he
added as Rick appeared tempted to deny it.
"Yeah, I have
a four-day weekend." The reluctant confession stabbed at his heart.
"So, come
snowboarding with me?" He held his breath as Rick stepped into his pants,
smoothing out creases with ridiculous attention.
"I can't. I
have to study for an exam next week."
"You can study
in the room. I got a room with a fireplace in a chalet. It'll be great. We can
spend the mornings outside and study in the afternoons, make love in the
evenings." God, he was nothing if not a persistent fool.
Rick's face set in
stubborn lines, his lips thinned. "No, thank you. I'm not a fan of throwing
myself off mountains and waiting to see how many bones I break on the way
down."
Ignoring the
unsolicited opinion of his hobby, Bastian continued desperately. "Then you
can stay in the room, keep the fires burning while I board, and we'll meet up in
between runs."
Rick's eyes
narrowed as he tugged on his shirt. He'd only unfastened the top buttons and jerked
it over his head earlier. Now he had only a few buttons to do and he'd be able
to leave. "No. Thank you. I'm not a fan of cold weather, snow, or smoke from
fireplaces." He tucked his shirt in now. Time was running out.
Bastian leaped off
the bed and snatched his own jeans off the floor, tugging them on and fastening
the buttons swiftly. "Rick, we never have off at the same time."
"But..."
Rick extracted a comb from his pocket, ran it through his hair, and crossed to the
table. He perched on the hard edge of the boxy chair, bare, elegant foot
bobbing as he glared at Bastian.
Subtly, Bastian
kicked Rick's loafer under the bed. He should be ashamed, but he needed a few
more minutes and his sister wouldn't freak out if Rick didn't return to the
office on time. She might ask nosy questions and draw accurate conclusions, but
she wouldn't be upset.
Rick's gaze darted
around the room, seeking his shoes and socks, no doubt. Bastian crossed to the
table and poured champagne into the two crystal goblets. He passed a glass to
Rick who accepted it reluctantly and slid deeper into the opposite chair. He
sipped from his glass, contemplating his wary lover.
"I'll stay
home with you then," he offered. Spending uninterrupted time with Rick was
worth losing his deposit.
"No, I have to
study." Rick's blue eyes met his, and he could tell from their guarded
expression that Rick felt pressured.
Guilt washed
through him, and he leaned against the chair. "I won't distract you from
studying, Rick. I realize how important this is for you." More important
than him, that much was abundantly clear.
Rick gulped from
his glass, sputtered, and then wiped his hand over his mouth and jaw with a
grimace. "Bastian, you are a distraction simply by virtue of being you. I
need space, and you, you just don't give me any." His gaze lingered on
Bastian's chest, then he grabbed the blue T-shirt off the floor and threw it to
him. Bastian caught it reflexively.
Rick stood and
crossed the room, returning with his socks. Bastian pulled the tee on and slid
his feet into the sandals he'd abandoned under the table when he arrived.
Rick stood, fists
on hips, scowling around the room in frustration. Finally he burst out,
"Do you see my damn shoes?"
Clearly he couldn't
coax Rick into changing his mind. Sighing, Bastian rose and flipped up the
disheveled comforter. He kicked Rick's shoes out into the open. "There you
go. Will you at least eat with me before you leave?"
