If It Flies (7 page)

through and through. He may have been slight, but he wasn’t

going to break in half if the wind hit him wrong.

His weight shifted towards Spencer’s torso. Once again,

his hands were on Spencer’s shoulders. On the shoulder blades

this time, and pressing in. He started making circles with the heels of his hands, and Spencer couldn’t help groaning.

“Didn’t realise a massage was included.”

“Sometimes I improvise.”

“There’s some oil.” Spencer lifted his arm—when did his

own limbs get so fucking heavy?—and gestured at the dresser.

“In the top—”

“No oil.” Nick’s hands pressed harder, made broader

strokes across Spencer’s flesh. “I like some friction.”

“Just don’t give me carpet burn,” Spencer muttered, but

Nick’s hands felt good on his skin, the touches sure and gentle, considerate, ironically unlike the occasional one-night-stands who all but treated him like a slab of meat.

Spencer relaxed, noticed how Nick leaned into every one

of his strokes, using his body weight rather than arm or hand

muscles. Every now and then, Nick’s leather-clad groin came

into contact with Spencer’s arse, and he wondered if Nick was

enjoying the frustration of being trapped in his trousers. He

imagined Nick getting himself off by just fucking his crack

like this, or wanking over him. Both had definite appeal.

The massage helped immensely with the comedown,

though the second Nick added some fingernails, Spencer

was wide awake again. His back was all warm, and now Nick

was working his sides, sliding with both hands towards the

spine, nails sometimes interrupting the open-palm motions.

Spencer groaned with the pleasure of it. Every time he started to drift off, the nails brought him back.

45

When Nick reached his arse, he was nearly ready to go

again, but he almost jumped out of his skin when Nick’s

thumbs slid into his crack and pulled his cheeks apart.

He tensed, then felt a thumb trail the slickness of the lube

there, and wondered if Nick got a kick out of his lube-slick

hole. While wondering if those thumbs would enter him.

Nick scooted further down his legs, changed the angle

and pressed against Spencer’s perineum, but almost more

intense was the slightest scrape of nails against the back of his sac. There was no way he could fall asleep now. Spencer rested his forehead against his arm and let Nick do whatever the hell he wanted.

As if satisfied with what he’d found, Nick’s hands moved

back up all the way and started again at his neck. “So far, I

think you’ll be okay on Monday. You might keep a bruise for

a good week or so, though.”

Bruise?

Spencer lifted his head and glanced back, bringing Nick

into the very edges of his peripheral vision. “You bruised me?”

“Not yet.” Matter-of-fact, as always.

Spencer lowered his head again. Nick had already mind-

fucked him within an inch of his life; what was a bruise or

two?“You like this, don’t you?” There was a hint of a growl in his voice now, one Nick punctuated with a subtle roll of his

hips, pressing his erection against Spencer’s bare arse.

“Yes, I do.”

“Would you like it more if I was fucking you?”

Spencer groaned before he could stop himself.

Nick laughed softly. “Of course you would.” Right back

to taunting. Prick.

46

Nick shifted more weight over his arms and kept kneading

Spencer’s muscles, which ached under the pressure. His skin

burned, bordering on too much but staying mostly within

the realms of incredibly arousing. It wouldn’t have surprised

him at all if this was how Nick left a bruise. He massaged

like he wasn’t satisfied with tenderising muscles. His hands

demanded pliability from Spencer’s
bones
.

And all the while, there was that ever-present erection

against Spencer’s arse. He couldn’t
not
focus on it, not even when Nick dug his fingers or the heels of his hands into

Spencer’s back. It was always there. Always pressing into his

skin and his awareness.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed. His whole

body throbbed in ways that should have been uncomfortable,

but weren’t. The pain was . . . well, shit, now he was starting to understand why some people liked it. Pain at the hands

of someone like Nick, with the unspoken assumption—

command—that he would enjoy it, was amazing.

And arousing. So,
so
arousing. Between the pleasant

thrum of pain and the hot friction, not to mention that hard-

on, Spencer’s erection was rubbing against the bed every

time his body shifted or twisted under Nick’s touch. Strange,

being so hyperaware of two hard cocks when he wasn’t even

getting fucked. Or when, strictly speaking, one was just there to pleasure him. Though Nick fulfilled that role without

seeming
to.

Compared to the awkwardness of a one-night-stand, this

was so much easier. Compatibility didn’t even figure. No

hot guys with terrible habits or no chemistry, no interesting

guys with awful body hygiene or a tiny dick. Nick came in a

package that was exactly as ordered—and probably included

a return policy. He was starting to see Percy’s point.

47

He shifted again, trying to relieve some of the pressure

against his dick.

“Now you’re ready for the second course,” Nick said on

top of him.

Spencer nodded and opened his legs further. His pulse was

speeding up when he heard the zip again, then the condom

packet and the lube cap, and he couldn’t bloody wait to feel

Nick inside him again. Slow or fast, bruising or without a

trace, he really didn’t care as long as Nick did it.

Nick’s slick thumbs were at his arse again, digging into

the muscle, opening him up for the cock that immediately

followed, thrust in hard and fast. Spencer gritted his teeth to keep himself from shouting; the assault was amazing and yet

completely brutal.

Nick didn’t even check with him if he was okay, merely

placed one flat hand on Spencer’s lower back, levering himself that way as he began to thrust. No teasing, not this time. If

Spencer hadn’t known better, it felt almost as if Nick was at

the end of his patience. Now he was getting everything Nick

had been holding back, and it was powerful and completely

savage and it hurt, but every time it hurt, mellow pleasure

trickled all through his body.

He bore Nick’s full weight, received his full strength in

every movement, and yelped when Nick reached over to pull

him back by the shoulders.

Spencer arched his back, nearly protesting at the rough

treatment, his arse on fire. Seriously on fire. What had been

teasing wasn’t now. Nick fucked him hard and mercilessly, the

bed creaking around them while Spencer did what he could

to take it. Now this was what he’d paid for, though it was

almost too much.

48

Nick paused just as Spencer was about ready to shoot.

He shifted his weight and took Spencer’s wrists, folded them

together in the small of his back, and oh God, this was hot

beyond words, Nick’s weight on his arms, Spencer’s face

pushed against the mattress with every thrust. He managed

to buck up and, with an encouraging sound from Nick, get to

his knees with Nick hilted inside him.

Every thrust now shook him to his core, his brain spinning

on vague ideas of being trapped, captured, imprisoned,

abused, his devilish captor fucking him without mercy or

consideration. Fantasising that he really hated this, but he

loved it, that there was nothing he could do about it, and that he was completely at somebody’s mercy, unable to speak even

to beg.

Nick groaned, and it was the hottest thing Spencer had

ever heard. Nick’s dam cracking, the veil of complete control

lifting just enough to show the raw, primal man underneath

who could only keep it together for so long. That Nick was

even capable of getting there, that he’d gotten there while

fucking Spencer, was the most spectacular turn-on imaginable.

Spencer wanted to fuck him back, to complement his

movements and drive him even deeper, even harder, but

he was pinned. Immobilised. One hundred per cent at the

mercy of a man who, in spite of his own quickening breathing

and tightening grasp on Spencer’s hands, wasn’t about to

relinquish that control.

So Spencer didn’t fight him. He didn’t fight anything. He

just knelt there and basked in it, lost himself in it, completely gave himself up to every thrust, and though he never came

very hard the second time, he did this time, and his entire

body wanted to shake but couldn’t because he couldn’t.

Fucking.
Move
.

49

Nick rode Spencer’s climax right past its peak, and he

fucked him even harder, to the point it hurt—but
God
, it was amazing—and finally released a strangled sound, one that

might have been laced with profanity, and forced himself all

the way into Spencer. His hips jerked against Spencer’s arse,

like his mind wanted a few more thrusts but his body couldn’t

handle any more.

In the next instant, Nick exhaled and released Spencer’s

wrists. Spencer let his arms fall to his sides—didn’t really need them anyway—and just closed his eyes and panted.

And somewhere in the delirium, a single thought

crystal ised in his brain:
This guy is worth
twice
what he
charges.

Anybody who could get him off with nothing but fucking

was a genius.

Nick pushed away, and that kind of gave Spencer back

some control over his body. He fell to the side, this time

watching Nick head to the bathroom, sliding the condom off

and knotting it while he walked, when Spencer would have

been overtaxed with merely walking and breathing at the

same time.

God, it paid to hire a pro.

He drifted pleasantly, aching all over from two of the

most intense orgasms of his life. Fuck the clock. Fuck the

price. Just . . .
fuck
.

Nick came back out of the bathroom, half-dressed and

again looking unruffled, though flushed. He grinned when he

saw Spencer flat on the bed. “Can any of the partners in your

law firm do that?”

Spencer laughed, half-disbelieving how cocky the bastard

was. “If they did, I’d definitely enjoy my job a great deal more.”

Nick nodded. “No kidding.” He waited.

50

Oh. Money. Yeah—that. Spencer groaned and tried to

remember where he’d put his wallet. Should be in his jacket.

Though remembering Nick’s rate, that wouldn’t get him

anywhere, unless Nick took credit cards. He did keep some

cash in the living room, though. He’d stashed a few grand in

a safe ever since the global financial meltdown in 2008. That

whole debacle had spooked him enough to have a safe built

into one wall to keep money for emergencies. This counted,

kind of.

“Uh. Let me just . . .” He managed to assemble enough

bones in his body to get to his feet and walked—wobbled,

really—into the living room. The safe opened after he’d

focused enough to punch in the combination, and he pulled a

wad of cash out. Twenty-five twenties, a respectable little pile.

On second thought, he added a fifty. If Nick had told him

to, he’d have given him all of it, because right now he was so floaty that he didn’t give a damn.

Nick took the money from his hand, folded it and pushed

it into his left trouser pocket, his jacket dangling from his

shoulder.

“Uh, money for the cab . . .”

“I’ll take the Tube.”

Did he live on the Circle or Metropolitan line somewhere?

Spencer cleared his throat. “So do I have to, uh, go into that Market Garden place again?”

“Dunno. Do you?”

“I mean, to see you again.”

Nick shook his head. “I have private clients I meet

outside.”

“Are you free . . .”
Like, tomorrow?
“Soon?”

“Here’s my number.” Nick handed him a card. “Text me.

I’ll let you know. But next week.”

51

No explanation for the long wait. Exams? Too many

clients? Spencer realised he was thinking about negotiating

with a rentboy while naked and fucked out. He still didn’t

give a shit. “Uh. Thanks.”

Nick nodded. “See you soon.” He turned and shrugged

into his leather jacket on the way out. He zipped it, though

from the back Spencer couldn’t see if he zipped it all the way or left some of his bare chest showing. He took off out the

front door, leaving Spencer alone in a house that echoed with

the sharp commands, the silent smirks, and the insane fucking

that had left him aching all the way to the bone.

Something in his mind suggested he should stand there

and wonder about Nick for a minute or two. Where he was

going. If he’d be safe. Why the hell he did this at al . How in God’s name he’d turned a bought-and-paid-for fuck into
that
.

But all that thinking bullshit could wait. For tonight, he

had just enough left to get back to his bedroom, strip off the covers that would need to be washed tomorrow, and col apse