overbearing son of a bitch, but he forced his arms to stay by his sides. “I’m calling a taxi.”
“I said I’d give you a lift.”
“Yeah, and I said I’m calling a taxi.”
In the end, Alasdair huffed and left the room. It wasn’t until Cosmo was halfway through dialling that he realised he didn’t even know Alasdair’s address. They were somewhere in the group of fancy villages to the northwest of High Wycombe, but other than that, he hadn’t a clue. And he only had a fiver in his wallet, which quite clearly wasn’t going to cover the cost of the fare back home.
He found Alasdair in the study, checking something on his phone. A pulse of lust sent a rush of blood to his cock as his gaze landed on the spanking chair. But no, he wasn’t going to change his mind. Alasdair was way too used to getting his own way. The man owed him a lift back into town, though.
“I’ll let you give me that lift, but don’t go thinking that means I’m changing my mind about the rest.”
Alasdair just gave him an infuriating nod and walked over so he crowded into Cosmo’s personal space. “You’re welcome back anytime. Just let me know when this”—he reached around to grab Cosmo’s arse—“is itching for my hand again.”
“Ain’t gonna happen.”
But Alasdair stared until Cosmo dropped his gaze; then the bastard strode out of the room, leaving him standing there like a lemon.
“Come on. I’m ready to leave.”
Cosmo scowled, feeling way too much like an uncooperative teenager as he trailed out after Alasdair.
“Just here is fine,” Cosmo said, pointing to the curry house at the end of his street.
“I’ll take you to your door.”
“How the hell do you know that isn’t my door? Have you been snooping into my private life?” Christ, this man better not turn out to be a stalker.
“Job application form, perhaps?”
“Right, yeah, of course.” Cosmo sat with his arms folded, saying nothing when Alasdair pulled up outside exactly the right house. Nasher was out in the garden, working on his van. Well, putting dabs of red primer over the rust spots, anyway. The state that pile of junk was in, it would end up more red than black.
“Here we are,” Alasdair said, and Cosmo turned to face him. He wanted to apologise for being rude, but at the same time, he didn’t want to take any of it back. He was in the right, damn it. The man was moving way too fast, assuming far too much about what was best for Cosmo. He needed to back off.
But if Cosmo never got another fuck like that again… Shit, he didn’t want to contemplate that. They could have the sex without the domestic-harmony bit, right?
Maybe Alasdair could read some of Cosmo’s dilemma on his face, because the man’s expression turned wolfish and he pulled Cosmo to him, claiming his mouth like it was his God-given property. Cosmo felt his dick start to stiffen, even as his heart pounded at the thought of any of the local hoodies seeing them there. But it was okay, wasn’t it, because Alasdair’s Merc had those poncey tinted windows. He surrendered to the kiss, sucking on Alasdair’s tongue and practically climbing into his lap.
“You’d better get going,” Alasdair said when he finally broke for air. “You’ll be late for practice.”
Fuck practice , Cosmo almost said, but he didn’t want to come across as the irresponsible kid Alasdair clearly thought he was. In the end, he just nodded, tried to pull off a nonchalant expression he had a feeling Alasdair could see right through and threw out a casual, “See you sometime,” as he opened the door.
“Bye, Cosmo,” Alasdair called in that bass rumble that quivered right through Cosmo’s bones.
As the Merc pulled away, Nasher gave Cosmo a suspicious glare. “Oo the ’ell’s that, then? Not that biker fella from last week.”
“Yeah, that was him.”
“He’s got a Merc and a Harley? Shit, you think he’d wanna sink some money into the band? We could do with a few
“I said I’d give you a lift.”
“Yeah, and I said I’m calling a taxi.”
In the end, Alasdair huffed and left the room. It wasn’t until Cosmo was halfway through dialling that he realised he didn’t even know Alasdair’s address. They were somewhere in the group of fancy villages to the northwest of High Wycombe, but other than that, he hadn’t a clue. And he only had a fiver in his wallet, which quite clearly wasn’t going to cover the cost of the fare back home.
He found Alasdair in the study, checking something on his phone. A pulse of lust sent a rush of blood to his cock as his gaze landed on the spanking chair. But no, he wasn’t going to change his mind. Alasdair was way too used to getting his own way. The man owed him a lift back into town, though.
“I’ll let you give me that lift, but don’t go thinking that means I’m changing my mind about the rest.”
Alasdair just gave him an infuriating nod and walked over so he crowded into Cosmo’s personal space. “You’re welcome back anytime. Just let me know when this”—he reached around to grab Cosmo’s arse—“is itching for my hand again.”
“Ain’t gonna happen.”
But Alasdair stared until Cosmo dropped his gaze; then the bastard strode out of the room, leaving him standing there like a lemon.
“Come on. I’m ready to leave.”
Cosmo scowled, feeling way too much like an uncooperative teenager as he trailed out after Alasdair.
“Just here is fine,” Cosmo said, pointing to the curry house at the end of his street.
“I’ll take you to your door.”
“How the hell do you know that isn’t my door? Have you been snooping into my private life?” Christ, this man better not turn out to be a stalker.
“Job application form, perhaps?”
“Right, yeah, of course.” Cosmo sat with his arms folded, saying nothing when Alasdair pulled up outside exactly the right house. Nasher was out in the garden, working on his van. Well, putting dabs of red primer over the rust spots, anyway. The state that pile of junk was in, it would end up more red than black.
“Here we are,” Alasdair said, and Cosmo turned to face him. He wanted to apologise for being rude, but at the same time, he didn’t want to take any of it back. He was in the right, damn it. The man was moving way too fast, assuming far too much about what was best for Cosmo. He needed to back off.
But if Cosmo never got another fuck like that again… Shit, he didn’t want to contemplate that. They could have the sex without the domestic-harmony bit, right?
Maybe Alasdair could read some of Cosmo’s dilemma on his face, because the man’s expression turned wolfish and he pulled Cosmo to him, claiming his mouth like it was his God-given property. Cosmo felt his dick start to stiffen, even as his heart pounded at the thought of any of the local hoodies seeing them there. But it was okay, wasn’t it, because Alasdair’s Merc had those poncey tinted windows. He surrendered to the kiss, sucking on Alasdair’s tongue and practically climbing into his lap.
“You’d better get going,” Alasdair said when he finally broke for air. “You’ll be late for practice.”
Fuck practice , Cosmo almost said, but he didn’t want to come across as the irresponsible kid Alasdair clearly thought he was. In the end, he just nodded, tried to pull off a nonchalant expression he had a feeling Alasdair could see right through and threw out a casual, “See you sometime,” as he opened the door.
“Bye, Cosmo,” Alasdair called in that bass rumble that quivered right through Cosmo’s bones.
As the Merc pulled away, Nasher gave Cosmo a suspicious glare. “Oo the ’ell’s that, then? Not that biker fella from last week.”
“Yeah, that was him.”
“He’s got a Merc and a Harley? Shit, you think he’d wanna sink some money into the band? We could do with a few
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