Page 9 of Praised
“Is that your nickname?” I asked.
“That’s what my friends call me.”
“I’m a stranger,” I said.
His nostrils flared, pupils dilating as he sucked in a breath.
“What do your lovers call you?” I asked, shuffling an inch closer. There was already hardly any room between us and the air was thick enough without all the sexual tension. Just being around him was enough to make me hard, and if I kissed him like shit, I was likely to climb to the roof of the club and throw myself over the edge.
“All sorts of things,” he said teasingly, voice low as be batted his lashes, sending a thousand ideas and endearments through my mind.
Gorgeous boy.
Pet.
Slut.
Mine.
“Ambrose,” I repeated his name, barely more than a whisper.
“Never that one,” he countered.
“There’s a first time for everything.”
He made a rough sound in the back of his throat. “Are you gonna kiss me or not?”
I was going to kiss him.
Hard and deep and long.
I snaked my hand around the back of his neck and met him in the middle, crashing our mouths together a little harder than I’d intended, but I hadn’t expected him to come up onto his toes to close the space.
His lips tasted like lime and honey, a little sticky from what had to have been lip gloss at some point. Rose reached out and braced his hands around my waist, moaning into my mouth as my tongue dipped inside to explore. I took another step, walking him against the wall and my chest against his. He was firm in all of the right places, and I was hard in the one that mattered most. He must have felt my erection because he pressed his stomach against me, applying a sinful amount of pressure against my already constrained dick.
I wanted to kiss him better, touch him more, but his damn margarita was in my hand and there wasn’t a table in sight. I cracked one eye open and caught sight of the fire alarm beside the door. It was risky, but it would have to do. I set the drink on the mechanism, watching as it teetered in a precarious balance. One of Rose’s hands slid around my belt, fingers grasping at the leather and giving it a tug.
I grabbed him, my fingers wrapping all of the way around his wrist and bringing him to a stop. He nipped at my lower lip, his cock pressing against my thigh. Slowly, with our mouths still fused together, tongues still dancing, Rose’s golden lashes began to flutter. His eyes rolled back a little as he tried to bring me into focus, and his lips curled into a smile against my mouth.
“That definitely wasn’t bad,” he murmured.
No, it wasn’t, but I was nowhere near ready to be finished kissing him. “I can do better.”
I shifted the angle of my head and kissed him again, licking past the surprised seam of his lips. He let go of my belt and I let go of him, bending at the knee and dragging my hands down to the backs of his thighs until he got the memo and pushed off the floor. Rose wrapped his legs around my waist and I pushed him back against the wall, one hand against his face and the other underneath his ass.
He swirled his hips against mine, drawing a low growl from the depths of my throat, then he broke the connection and tilted his head up, giving me access to his neck. I peppered kisses over his Adam’s apple and toward the hollow between his collarbones, then worked my way back up the side of his neck until I reached his ear. Rose turned his face into me, and I searched out his lips for a third time, licking the taste of his drink out of his mouth until the only thing left for him to taste was me.
“That was definitely better,” he teased after coming up for air.
“That was nothing,” I whispered the promise against his ear, slowly unwinding his legs from around my waist and easing him back to the floor. I bent down with him, not ready to break away from the heat of him or the feel of him.
“Talk me through it then, big guy.”
“Flynn,” I told him.
“Do you not like big guy?” He settled his hands back on my hips and I leaned back enough to see his face.
“There are things I prefer.”
