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Authors: Elaine White

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BOOK: Decadent
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Chapter 6

 

Cormag wasn't at all surprised that Lachlan kissed him, but since his coffees and the afternoon breeze had reached him he was sobering up. And he knew fine well that Lachlan wasn't gay
and
he'd got out of a relationship in a really bad way. The guy was suffering so it wasn't fair to take advantage of him by kissing him back.

“Please,” Lachlan whispered the word against his lips and his resolve melted. When he kissed him again he allowed himself to respond.

He held his hips and pulled him closer, hating the distance between them. He could tell that Lachlan let himself get lost in the kiss as he closed his eyes. When he licked his lips, asking for access, they parted right away as if he had no say in the matter. A tongue caressed his on his first exploration and Lachlan let out a moan of pleasure that sent shivers through him. He answered that caress with another tug on his hips. Lachlan slowly pulled away and opened his eyes.


I'm sorry,” Cormag apologised for his impetuous actions. He stared in surprise as Lachlan took his hand and led him away from where they were.

He didn't know where they were going, but he followed, curious as to why he wasn't being told off or shouted at. He soon realised they were heading along a familiar path. When they finally stopped at the end of a street, Cormag was stunned. He looked at Lachlan, who looked back at him and gestured to the street.

“Which one?” he asked.

They both knew what he meant. Hadn't he told him, not half an hour ago that he lived on this street? Hadn't he told him about his long, boring walk to and from the bar and how each walk was as lonely as the last? Lachlan might have been eighteen and very much able to make his own decisions, but he still found something quite scandalous in this gorgeous guy kissing him and blatantly asking to go back to his house.

“Number twenty-five,” he answered, almost unable to think clearly.

“You want me to count every door?” He laughed lightly. He sounded the way he had in the bar, when he'd been blind drunk. Only he didn't seem as drunk as before.

“That one over there.” He pointed to the house with the closed curtains and dead, overgrown front garden a little way down the street. “The one with the green door,” he explained.

Lachlan nodded and looked at the house a while, making Cormag wonder if he was being nosy rather than asking to go in. Until he started walking towards it again, still holding onto his hand.

He was slightly terrified of Lachlan. They had such a connection, he was really something to look at and he had been hurt. But there they were, heading back to his house at four in the afternoon and he had no clue what for. They might get there and all he wanted to do was hang out and talk for a while so that he didn't have to go home or go back to Konnor. Or they might get there and Lachlan would want to get right back to the intense, far too brief kiss they'd been enjoying a moment before. Cormag wouldn't mind either way. He was completely entranced by the beautiful creature holding his hand.

Cormag wasn't entirely convinced that Lachlan knew what he was doing. Konnor would probably kill him if he knew they were going back to his house, but if Lachlan wasn't worried then he wouldn't worry either.

He understood his new friend's fears; he thought he had only been with Orion at all because he was fed up of being the odd one out. The only one without a girlfriend, the only one not interested in dating, the only one of his friends who had expectations for his life that his heart and brain wouldn't let him meet. Lachlan longed for love and marriage and babies, more than any other kid his age did, but he didn't have the right feelings to make any of them a real possibility. It must have been so hard growing up that way.

He didn't like the way that Lachlan blamed himself for everything, because he'
d never had a real attraction to anyone before. He had spent too much of his time living his life for other people. Cormag wanted to be a breath of fresh air for him, coming into his life and letting him see the light. Letting him see that he had a voice and a heart and he was capable of making his own choices in life. He could choose who to love, if he wanted to love anyone, who to be friends with, where to go and what to do with his time. Cormag wanted to be someone that Lachlan could be himself with and be the one to help him discover who he was.

For all that they barely knew each other he trusted him. It was instinctual as well as intellectual. Cormag hadn't been looking for anyone to meet or seduce in the bar and he didn't take anyone back to his own house, even when he was dating. His home was private and personal. Yet he'd offered to let Lachlan see it, talking about its history and his library.

“I feel like I already know most of the rooms by sight,” Lachlan told him as he unlocked the door and let the kid go in first. “Can I see the library first?” he asked, as he stood in the hallway. Cormag nodded, struck speechless by him. He led the way down the hall to the library at the back of the house.

“This was originally the kitchen, but it's just me and I don't need that much space,” he explained as he opened the old wooden door and let him see his most loved room in the house.

“Whereas you have a lot of books,” Lachlan finished that thought for him. “This is amazing.” He approved, as he walked into the centre of the room and looked around.

Every inch of wall was covered with floor to ceiling bookcases of a dark mahogany. Every shelf was full of books, arranged by author with a gap between letters provided by an ornament of some kind. There was a Winston Churchill Bulldog, complete with cigar and hat after the letter A, an old Candlestick telephone after B and an antique clock after C. Everything was organised but thoughtful.

“I love the art work.” Lachlan glanced back at Cormag with a smile of approval for the old war photographs.

The aeroplanes were hand painted, in dark wood frames and all sitting on the floor, propped up against the bookcases behind them. It wasn't out of disinterest or because they were unloved, but because there were no seats in the room. The best place to sit was on the floor, which was the best angle to view the paintings.

Lachlan sank down onto the floor in the middle of the room and looked around at all the pictures; he beamed happily as Cormag walked over to him. He could tell he understood now, why there was no furniture in the room. The pictured were all angled to show off their composition best from that exact spot. There were smaller frames along the bookshelves, used as divides, that held sketches of military men from all eras.

“I studied war when I was in college. I didn't stick to it though. They didn't tell me what I wanted to know
, so I left and decided to study it for real. Now I'm working in the war museum in town and it's amazing,” Cormag explained as he took a seat beside him.

“You
did the art work, didn't you?” he guessed, smiling to himself as he took in the room.

“Yes.”

Lachlan turned to look at Cormag; he felt strangely excited about that look in his eyes as if he got it. He couldn't stop smiling. When he lay back on the floor he saw the painted ceiling with a mural of a dark, cloudy sky, with military planes firing at each other.

“This is my favourite
place to be in the whole world,” Cormag confessed. He loved the moment they were having; it felt so real, so natural, that he couldn't stop himself. He reached down with his right hand, letting the back of his fingers brush the back of Lachlan's hand. He gave him a second of warning before slipping his fingers up and around, so that they could hold hands. Lachlan let him, holding on with the right amount of pressure.

It felt right. Normal. As if they did it all the time. As if they lay there all the time and held hands and talked about important things.

“I can tell. There's so much love in this room,” Lachlan confessed with a contented sigh.

They spent two hours in that room, talking to each other and lying on the floor. They barely moved from where they lay, holding hands. Even when Cormag talked and gesticulated wildly, he never let go, not even when re-enacting war plane manoeuvres with his hands. By the time two hours passed and they heard the clock tick quarter past six, Cormag was afraid that his enjoyable day was over.

“Are you hungry?” he asked as he sat up, hoping to keep Lachlan with him a little longer. They were having a great time and they hadn't even gone back to kissing yet.

“Yes. But I'm not leaving. Can't we eat later?” Lachlan asked, surprising him.

He wasn't going to raise the point that he didn't want and hadn't been asking Lachlan to leave, but he was more than relieved to hear that he refused to go. Cormag nodded his agreement to wait a little longer for food, about to suggest that they could order in some take out later when Lachlan moved closer. He decided to keep his mouth shut so he didn't ruin whatever was about to happen.

Before he had time to even make a guess as to what was going through Lachlan's mind, he was being thoroughly kissed and lowered back to the floor. Where he was more than willing to go. In fact, once he got there he flipped Lachlan onto his back and broke the kiss. He adjusted his position over him until he was straddling those strong thighs, his hands pressed into the floor by his head.

“If you do this - if you stay and kiss me like this - I might not be responsible for what I do about it,” Cormag warned Lachlan to be careful. He wasn't an innocent virgin like his young friend was. He was used to going after what he wanted. If he let him have too much encouragement he might risk going too far and ruin everything.

“Will you shut up?” he said, smiling up at him. “I'm a horny teenage boy and right now I'm enjoying myself. When I'm with you I forget the rest of the world exists, so will you please stop talking and kiss
me?” he asked, blatantly making his willingness clear. How could he resist that?

Since he didn't see the point in arguing and he couldn't think of any arguments Cormag kissed Lachlan and let go. Within a few minutes of kissing in that same sensual, passionate way as before, they were all over each other. Lachlan had his hands under his t-shirt, making him moan in delight at the playful way he touched him.

It was just touching, exploring how he felt. He liked it all and responded in kind. Lips met and tongues played, earlobes were nipped and necks were sucked tormentingly. Eventually they were shirtless with Cormag trailing a map of kisses and nips down Lachlan's chest. The once silent library was filled with moans and grunts and threatening growls of retaliation.

 

***

 

Lachlan had no idea how it happened, but he knew he was enjoying himself. If he'd had enough brain cells left to care he would have realised that he hadn't once thought of Orion since he and Cormag left the bar together. He didn't even think about her long enough to be angry. All he could do was be thankful that he'd taken the risk of making it happen.

He was entirely lost in the moment. All he cared about was Cormag's mouth and his hands and what they were doing to his senses. He had never expected to ever be with a man like this, but he found that the more he looked at his chiselled, strong body and those bedazzling eyes the more comfortable he felt. And he'd been largely comfortable with him since their venture into drunkenness in the bar. He wasn't nervous at all.

He'd never been with anyone like this before, not even a girl. He hadn't ever been interested in the physical things, since kissing a girl had been mundane and boring. Now he guessed he knew why; he wasn't cut out for kissing girls. Or maybe even guys. But he was certainly made to kiss Cormag. He liked doing that, but he
loved
the way that Cormag kissed back slowly, as if to savour the moment.

Lachlan allowed himself a moment to lie there on a hardwood floor with his eyes closed after Cormag broke the kiss. He felt incredible.

“So, one of us might as well say this…I'm a total mess. I admit that.” He realised that however happy he and Cormag were, there was a huge elephant in the room that needed addressed. There was no denying the fact that he'd had a bad break up, got depressed about it, got drunk with a stranger and was now back in that so-called stranger's house. Not exactly a normal day. But Cormag was listening, turning his head to watch him.

“To be completely honest, I think you should know that I've never wanted to go beyond kissing before. It held no interest for me. Until you. And of all the kisses I've ever had in my life, the only one I ever instigated was with you. So I think that means something.” He decided that whatever was going on was probably the work of Fate. It was the only way he could explain how crazy the last few days had been and how they had ended up.

Cormag laughed a real, delighted laugh that made Lachlan feel giddy. “You are the strangest person I've ever known,” he claimed. “I thought you were the logical sort?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I
was also the tea-total sort too,” Lachlan reminded him cheekily. “My instincts have never led me wrong since I met you, when every other time I followed them they screwed things up for me. That means something too. So since I'm with you, I'm going to trust the instincts that tell me to say this,” he said. He knew fine well that he could be making a real mess of things, but he had decided to trust his feelings when it came to Cormag.

“I don't want to have to leave here and never see you again. I know that's not who you are, but I want you to know that you don't have to be afraid of telling me what you want either. If you're not interested in taking this anywhere, at a
ny point, I want you to tell me.” Lachlan asked that they continue to be honest with each other about their intentions. Especially since he was quite openly admitting that he wanted to see him again.

BOOK: Decadent
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