"Lover At Last" - читать интересную книгу автора (Ward, J.R.)

Was the torture never going to end, he thought.

And, God, his cock was pounding.

Considering his choices, he willed the lights off, closed his eyes, and ordered his brain to shut up and go to sleep. If he could just catch a few down here for an hour or two, heтАЩd wake up sober, flaccid, and ready to face people again.

Now, this was a good plan, and it was also the perfect environment. Dark, a little cool, super-quiet in the way only facilities underground were.

Shimmying his body even deeper into the chair, he crossed his arms over his chest and got ready for the REM train to pull into his station.

When that didnтАЩt work, he started to imagine all kinds of тАЬoffтАЭ situations, like vacuums unplugged from the wall, and fires extinguished with water, and TV screens going blackтАж.

Qhuinn had looked so eminently fuckable like that, his slick, smooth body carved with muscle, his sex so thick and proud. All that water would have made him both slippery and hotтАжand, dearest Virgin Scribe, Blay would have given almost anything to walk over the tile, get down on his knees, and take that sex into his mouth, feeling that blunt head with its piercing stroke over his tongue as he went up and downтАФ

The disgusted noise he made echoed around, sounding louder than it probably had been.

Opening his eyes, he tried to clear any fantasies that involved sucking out of his mind. But all the pitch-black didnтАЩt help; it just formed the perfect screen to keep projecting on.

Cursing, he gave that yoga thing a shot, where you relaxed the tension in each and every part of the body, starting with the perma-twist between his eyebrows, then the rigid ropes that ran from his shoulders up to the base of his skull. His chest was tight, too, his pecs contracted for no good reason, his biceps digging into his upper arms.

Next, he was supposed to focus on his abs and then his butt and his thighs, his knees and calvesтАжhis this-little-piggy-went-homes.

He didnтАЩt make it that far.

Then again, trying to talk his arousal into any kind of malleability would have required powers of persuasion that his half-drunk brain didnтАЩt possess.

Unfortunately, there was only one sure-fire way of getting rid of Mr. Happy. And in the dark, by himself, with the umbrella of no-one-will-ever-know protecting the moment, why shouldnтАЩt he just work the damn thing, drain the burn, and pass out? It was no different from waking up at the fall of night with an erectionтАФbecause God knew there was no emotional anything involved. And he was under the influence, right? So that was another pass.

He wasnтАЩt cheating on Saxton, he told himself. He wasnтАЩt with QhuinnтАФand Saxton was the one he wantedтАж.

For a while, he continued to argue the pros and cons, but eventually his hand made the decision for him. Before he knew it, his palm was burrowing under his loose waistband andтАФ

The hiss he let out when he gripped himself was like a gunshot in the silence, and so was the groan of the chair as the thrust of his hips pushed his shoulders into the leather padding. Hot and hard, thick and long, his cock was begging for attentionтАФbut the angle was all wrong, and there was no room for stroking in the damn shorts.

For some reason, the idea of stripping from the waist down made him feel dirty, but his sense of propriety went into the shitter pretty fast when all he could do was squeeze. Lifting his ass, he swept the shorts offтАжand then realized he was going to need something to clean up the mess with.

The shirt came off next.

Naked in the dark, sprawled out long from the chair and to the desktop, he gave himself over, spreading his thighs, pumping up and down. The friction made his eyes roll back in his head, made him bite his lower lipтАФGod, the sensations were so strong, flowing through his bodyтАФ

Fuck.

Qhuinn was in his mind, Qhuinn was in his mouthтАжQhuinn was inside of him, the two of them moving togetherтАФ

This was wrong.

He froze. Just stopped dead. тАЬShit.тАЭ

Blay released his cock, even though the mere process of letting the betrayal go made him grit his molars.