Still, when Barton Willis the Third roars into the garage with his Mustang, Kendall can’t help but look, just a little. When Barton not only looks back but invites him in, Kendall’s whole world is turned upside down.
Can Barton help Kendall let go of the past and the attitudes he had literally beaten into him?
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“Beautiful, isn’t it?” He came to stand behind Ken, stepping close but not touching him yet.
“It is. Sparkly.”
He could feel Kendall’s heat, smell the man’s skin. He closed the final distance between them, pressing up against Ken’s back.
Kendall stiffened, took a deep, quick breath. “Mr.—”
“Call me Barton.” The sir could come later.
He could feel Kendall’s ass jerking and jumping against him.
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He wrapped one arm around Ken’s chest.
“What are you doing?” Ken’s heart was pounding, a hammer against his arm.
“Holding you.” He waited, eager for the next volley in this game they were playing.
“Because you’re hot.”
Kendall shook his head and tried to step forward, but Barton held on.
“Who told you being gay was wrong, Ken?” How hard would breaking through that be?
“It doesn’t matter. I’m not…”
“Of course it matters, because you are and someone told you that was wrong. Only they were the ones who were wrong. Ken…” It broke his heart that there were still gay men who believed the people who indoctrinated them. It made him furious that a nice, good-looking stud like Ken had been made to feel wrong.
“Don’t talk to me like we’re friends, man. Like we know each other, because we don’t.”
“I want to know you, though. You make me want to.” Barton wasn’t going to be driven away.
“You don’t seem like the kind to slum with mechanics.”
Barton had to suppress another growl. “You think I’m slumming? That’s not what this is about.”
“What is it about?”
“It’s about me being immensely attracted to you. And I don’t believe it’s one-sided either.” He knew Kendall would have been long gone if it was.
“Do you come on to every man you’re attracted to?” Ken asked.
“I’ve never been attracted to a man the way I’m attracted to you.”
“Bullshit.” Kendall stepped away. “Don’t lie like that.”
“Excuse me?” He was going to start growling now. “What the fuck makes you think I’m lying to you? Because I’m not.”
“No one is just attracted to me.”
He grabbed Ken’s hand and pressed it against his cock, which was pushing against his slacks. “What’s that then?”
“Oh God.” Kendall’s fingers curled, cupping him. Measuring him.
Groaning, he pushed into Ken’s hand.
“We shouldn’t. We really shouldn’t do this.” Still, Kendall didn’t stop touching.
“Yes, we should. It feels really good.”
Ken nodded, hand moving, sliding in the perfect rhythm.
“Would be even better without the pants,” Barton suggested.
“Shh. This isn’t happening.”
“It is. And it would be better without pants.”
“Someone will come with the food.” Up. Down. Up. Down.
Barton groaned. “Now you’re being logical?”
“I think so.”
His balls drew up. “Don’t want to come in them.” He really didn’t. Even if the main motivation was to feel Ken’s hand directly on his prick.
“Should I stop?” Ken moved his hand away.
He stepped forward and Kendall’s finger unzipped the first inch of his slacks. “You won’t tell?”
“Who am I going to tell, Ken?”
“My boss, for one. He’d kick my ass.”
“I’m not going to tell anyone, Ken.” He couldn’t imagine being so scared of being who he was and his heart went out to Kendall.
His zipper went down another inch, then another.
“That’s it, baby. Please.”
The single “please” got his pants open, his dick in Ken’s fingers. Moaning, he pushed into the touch, his hands grabbing hold of Ken’s hips to keep himself balanced. The touch was untutored, untried, arousing as fuck.
“Don’t stop.” It wasn’t going to take long.
“I won’t. I promise.”
Oh, oh fuck, that was sweet.
Barton licked his lips, panting. Ken had delicious calluses, dragging on his skin, teasing him. He wanted to take his time, explore these feelings, the sensations. If they were interrupted, though, it might ruin things, so he let Ken’s touches pull him over. Crying out, he jerked, his spunk pouring out over Ken’s hand.
“Oh.” Ken looked shocked, stunned, incredibly turned on.
He took a quick, hard kiss. “So fucking good.”
“I…I’ll get the towel.”
“There are tea towels in the kitchen. Not to mention, you could try a taste of me.” He was going to push Ken every step of the way until the man reveled in who he was.
“I’ll be right back.”
Well, it had been worth a try. At least Ken was only running as far as the kitchen.
He heard the water running from downstairs, then it stopped. He waited for the towel—he wasn’t going to zip back up until he’d cleaned off his prick. It was really too bad Ken wouldn’t lick him clean. One step at a time. He could be patient when he had to be.
Ken came back with a kitchen towel, face and hands shiny and damp.
He took the towel and wiped himself clean. “Did you take a taste?”
“What?” Oh, there was guilt there.
“My spunk. Did you taste?” He moved in, not letting Ken run from him.
“I don’t…” Ken backed up. “The food should be here soon.”
“It should. Are you hungry…for food?”
“Uh-huh.” There was a drop of spunk at the corner of Ken’s mouth, so tiny. Yes!
Leaning in, Barton licked it away. “We’re going to have a wonderful dinner together.”
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