Brainy and the Beast (12 page)

“You should stay away from him. From them.” I threw up blocks for the swift punches he aimed at me.

“Whatever. But if he comes after me, I’m not gonna lay down.” With that guarantee, Grant shoved another hook punch my way, and this one got past my guard.

“Ungh!” The kid could really make contact. His fist thudded into my chest, below my left shoulder.

“Oh, sorry! Sorry, Uncle Nick!” Dropping back, Grant lowered his hands from his fighting stance. “Are you okay?”

Was my wheezing giving me away? “Yeah.” I coughed. “Yeah. I’m fine.” I straightened, shaking it off. “What? Come on. Let’s go again.”

The snot raised his brows at me, eyes wide. “You sure?”

I wiggled my fingers at him. “You want me to come over there and get you? Come on.”

“Okay. You asked for it.” With a grin, Grant threw a sweet roundhouse at me again, and I managed to jump back just fast enough.

* * * *

I rolled my shoulder as I got out of the car in Henry’s driveway. That nephew of mine most definitely packed a punch.

“There you are.”

I headed toward the side door. “Hey. Thanks for the code. I probably would have been even later if I would have had to wait for the guard up at the front gate.” I smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. Grant and I were sparring, and I lost track of time.”

“You’re so athletic.” Henry sounded admiring.

Man, Henry looked good. His black cashmere turtleneck and belted khakis looked like country gentleman to me, or at least reminded me of a model from the Orvis catalog. There was this one guy who’d been all done up, standing in front of a hunting lodge…

He stepped up close, almost bumping my chest. “It’s good to see you again.”

I nodded. “Me too.” I know, it was lame. But somehow my tongue got tangled, and I couldn’t think of anything else when he was so close. After five o’clock in early November, it was kind of dark, and the color of his eyes was dimmed in the evening shadows, but I could still see the gleam there. Someone was hungry.

He cupped the back of my head, and I resisted as he tried to pull me in for a kiss. “What’s the matter? You still don’t like to kiss?”

I shrugged, not really wanting to answer.

“Perhaps I can change your mind.” Henry leaned in, breath warm on my face. Instead of going right for my mouth, he skimmed his lips along my cheek, and I automatically tilted my head when he got to my ear. His tongue flicked the lobe, and then he sucked it inside. I gasped softly at the heat and suction. I hadn’t known my ears could get me going.

“How’s that feel?”

He shifted to my other ear, and I moaned. “Um. Good. It’s good.” My dick certainly thought so, since it was perking up nicely. He had an answering hardness poking my thigh, and I moved so that we were lined up together.

Henry’s fingers unzipped my leather coat, one hand sliding to my hip. “Your hair’s a little wet.”

I swallowed. “Yeah. Grant…um, Grant—we, um, were doing some routines in the basement for a while and I…oh…I just got out of the shower.” I was having trouble stringing words together while he played with my ears and his fingers flirted with my belt. “I know. Could catch a cold, right?” I rested my head in his hand, and my eyes shut as one fingertip came up to tease at my lips.

“Not really,” he whispered. “That’s a myth. Open up.”

When I complied, he moved inward, reaching past my teeth and pressing on my tongue. He pushed, prodded, and slid his finger around, and I groaned at the sexual nature of his invasion. It was like he was fingering me, only not, because we were standing up and we had our clothes on.

“Good boy.”

Boing! My eyelids popped open, and I was hard as a rock, just like that. I closed my lips around his finger, sucking it deeper. I scraped my teeth on it the tiniest bit, and he hissed in response. “Yes. You like that, don’t you? Showing me what you can do.” His voice was low, raspy. He pressed his weight into me, and I couldn’t help but hump against him like one of my dogs.

“What are you smiling about?” There was an answering quirk at the corner of his lips.

I let his finger slip from my mouth. “I just had an image of Rum when he was doing the nasty on your leg, and I guess I was comparing myself to him.”

Laughing, Henry urged me near until our foreheads met. “Oh, Nicholas. You are something else.” With that, he kissed me, his tongue driving forward.

My belly clenched with desire, and I could feel wetness seep from my dick. I didn’t get it. Far from not liking this kissing thing, I was really getting into it. I gripped his head with both hands and fought him for control. It was a full-body kiss, teeth, tongues, dicks, arms, hands—everything involved. I wanted him. Now.

We were both gasping for air when we moved apart.

“I…I think we can safely say that you like kissing.” Henry tipped his head back, breathing deeply. “We’d better move this out of the driveway, or I’ll be tempted to push you up against the house and fuck you right here.”

It was the first time I’d heard him drop the f-bomb. It did something to me. His deep voice was husky with desire, and my dick pointed true north, pushing against my jeans. I reached down to adjust myself, gritting my teeth. “You’re making me nuts.”

“Forget what I said. Let me see you.”

Obeying, knowing I was letting him take over but not caring, I gingerly lowered the tab on my zipper. Reaching in, I hissed at the cold feeling of my hand on my overheated prick. I wrapped my fingers around my girth, looking at him from under my brows as I tugged and stroked. “You like this? You like to watch?” A grin twisted my lips. “I think you do. I think it makes you hot.” I moved my feet farther apart, then tucked my free hand under my balls. Cupping them, I put on a show, rolling those while I jacked myself. “Should I shoot my load on your driveway here? Or I could jack it on your leg, mark you, make your pretty pants smell like me.”

“Nicholas.” Absolutely hoarse now, Henry shoved my hand out of the way. “You’ll come when I say so.” His soft-skinned hand took over the motion, and when he reached to tickle my balls with the other, pressing behind my sac, I jerked upward onto my toes.

“Henry. Doc!” Rocking, I moved into his hand, balancing myself with a grip on his shoulder. We stared into each other’s eyes.

Releasing me for a moment, he brought his palm to my mouth. “Get me wet so I can bring you off.”

I swallowed hard, my throat tight at the thought of what we were doing. Standing outside, along the side of his house. “What if someone sees us?” It was a little late to be wondering that, wasn’t it?

“You needn’t worry. The trees screen this entire side of the house.” His palm bumped my lips meaningfully.

I gave one more quick look around, assuring myself we were in a darkened area away from the light over his side door. The fixture there cast its glow in a semicircle around the entrance, but it didn’t cover the area where we stood, about twenty feet away. Closing my eyes, I ran my tongue over his palm. The flavor of his skin burst into my mouth, and I licked and nibbled at the fleshy part of his hand.

“God.” Henry grabbed my ass, then wrapped his fingers around my cock again. He held me tightly between both hands, and I started humping him again, this time going for broke.

“I like it when you’re in my hand. I like this.”

I could see our breaths as we panted. With the sun down, the temperature had dropped to around thirty-five. “Aren’t you cold?” The question just popped into my head. It was probably idiotic to focus on that.

Huffing another laugh, Henry ran two fingers along my crease, inside my loosened jeans. “I don’t usually find sex funny, Nicholas. You make it so different.”

When he put pressure on my hole, I started coming. “God!” My hoarse shout echoed off the side of the house. Moaning, I arched in his hold, shivering.

Henry kissed me again, his hand continuing to tug, pulling everything out of me. I whimpered, overwhelmed by sensation.

“That’s what I like to see.” He brought a hand up to my lips. “You said you don’t swallow. How about this?”

Shocked for a second, I stared at his hand. “Um. I.”

“Surely you’ve tried your own semen?”

The blunt question had me blushing. I might sling around the
f
word with impunity, and certainly there wasn’t much that went unsaid at the garage, but I wasn’t quite used to technical terms for body parts and fluids spoken in regular conversation. But—and this was a
big
but—I was not going to look like some rube. “Yeah. Who hasn’t?” I inched my tongue out, slowly reaching his cupped hand. His skin was cold, but my semen still held a little bit of heat. “Huh.” It was a strange flavor, kind of musky and salt. “Not bad.” I licked again, gaining confidence.

“Good boy.” His voice was raspy again.

“God! When you say that, it goes straight to my balls.”

“Mm-hmm.” He had a knowing smile on his face.

“That too!”

“Really. I’ll have to remember that.” Henry tucked me back inside my jeans. “I think it’s time to head to the restaurant. I am starting to get chilled now.”

“But…don’t you want me to—” I gestured at the bulge in his pants.

“Oh, I most certainly do. In fact, I’m counting on it later.” He patted my crotch. “I’ve got to wash up and get my coat. I’ll be right back.”

I stood there, staring at the kitchen door. “That guy is something else.”

We dropped the Buick off at the shop; then Henry rode with me to the restaurant. It was more of a pub/old supper club more than anything else and not exactly Michigan Avenue. Even though the Paddock was near some of the most exclusive stables in northern Illinois, it was still a remnant of the farm lifestyle that was managing to hang on in small spots. The interior had lots of wood paneling, with some fancy hunting paintings and horse gear hanging up. The leather booths were comfy, and the lighting came from copper lanterns with wide metal caps hanging over the tables.

“I’ve never been here.” Henry was looking around the place. “The decor is intriguing.”

It was fairly packed. The food was what drew folks to the place, and the service was pretty good too. Lots of regular working joes like me, in addition to the horse owners and trainers in their riding gear and the stable crews in their mud-splattered boots and jeans. Didn’t see too many people dressed up, like we had the night we went to Lovell’s. “It’s nothing fancy. Not like you’re used to.”

“Like I’m used to? I’m afraid I don’t go out that much, Nicholas.” Henry took a sip of his water.

“Oh. I kind of thought that—”
Shut up. Shut up, Nicky, before you stick your foot in your mouth again.

Henry watched me with a half smile on his face. He pulled his eyeglass case from inside his jacket as he spoke. “You thought what?” The sleek metal reading glasses he slid on his nose made him look sexy.

I jerked one shoulder up, almost groaning as my sore muscles protested. “Nothing.”

He leaned back against the leather. “I’m usually either working at the lab or at home working or I’m tending to my fish or catching up on my technical reading. Other than the occasional dinner for work, my life is fairly boring.”

“I didn’t see your fish when I was there.” I was trying to remember if I’d spotted a tank in my haste to get laid.

“Hmm. You walked right by a very large tank on the way to my bedroom.” He quirked one brow. “And presumably you walked by it again when you took off so unexpectedly.”

Great. I’d opened the conversation into my own idiotic behavior. “Yeah. About that. Um.” Just what “um” was I going to say?

“Relax.” He was amused, I could tell. “It’s built into the wall that divides the space between my formal dining room and the great room. That might be why you didn’t notice it. The other tank is in my den.”

The waiter’s arrival saved me. I ordered a beer, then stuck my nose in my menu. Henry asked for the wine list, which gave me my turn to be amused. I was pretty sure this place didn’t have one.

Turned out I was wrong.

“Sure thing, sir. Stefan’s been dying for someone to try out some of his new wine. I don’t think too many people know about it yet. Most people drink beer after being at the barns all day.” The waiter waved to someone in the back of the restaurant.

Huh? I lowered my menu just enough to watch. “Stefan” responded to the wave, and he turned out to be the manager. He was as thrilled as the waiter had prophesied.

The two wine lovers tossed high-class lingo back and forth, losing me pretty quickly. The waiter brought my beer and rolled his eyes at me. I had to shake my head. Who knew the Paddock had wine at all, let alone some manager who was apparently a wiz?

“Thank you, Stefan. Let’s try that one.”

“Certainly, Mr. Travis. I think you’ll like it. I found it on my latest trip to Italy.” Stefan had a big smile on his face, and I watched as he took off for the kitchen. Brows elevated, the waiter hurried after him.

“Um. I have to say, that’s a first here at the Paddock. They must be changing things around.”

“Hmm?” Henry was still reading the wine list. It was a short little menu, but it obviously had something on it to interest Dr. Love.

“Henry. Doc.” When I finally got him to pull his eyes up, I almost drowned in the Jaguar-blue gaze. “Uh.”

“Nicholas, you called this place a hole-in-the-wall. I have to say, I was expecting it to be a tad rougher than this. Do you know they have a ’99 Querceto? That’s hardly a box wine.” Henry tucked his reading glasses away.

“Queer-what?”

“Kwhere-chet-toe. It’s a lovely chianti that will go quite nicely with my burger.” He lifted one shoulder. “You might even like it.” Unrolling the napkin from his silverware, he busied himself setting it on his lap.

I had to laugh. “Doc. You are something else. I take you to a dive on the back side of the horse barns and you still end up making it like we’re at the Drake.” Even I’d been to the famous Chicago landmark hotel a time to two; in fact, it was a particular favorite of my dad’s.

Henry quirked one corner of his mouth. “I’m not sure why you think I’m so…so… What’s the term?” He tilted his head as he looked at me, then put a finger to the tip of his nose, pushing up as he tilted his head back. “North Shore?”