Men of London 03 - Suit Yourself (10 page)

Languid strokes to his cock made his pulse
race; his mouth opened and his heavy breaths echoed in the room. He
watched the events playing out on screen, as Adam straddled him and
then rammed down on his cock with a fierce battle cry and began to
bounce up and down like a yo-yo. Oliver closed his eyes and
imagined that scene, but with Leslie in the slave role. Black bangs
over blue eyes framed a face that was pale and delicate, yet with
the strength of a man’s jaw and square cheekbones that made no
mistake about the gender of the person currently riding Oliver’s
cock.

He opened his eyes as his hands tightened
around his dick, and the lube and his own fluids slicked him and
sent waves of pleasure down to his feet, his arse and pooled in his
groin.

“Oh, God, Leslie,” he gasped, as he watched
Adam rise and fall against Nicky’s thrusting hips and heard the
sounds of pleasure as Nicky Starr pushed deep inside the slave. “I
want you so damn badly…” His voice caught as the pressure in his
groin grew relentless and he cried out as he climaxed, come
jettisoning across his stomach in white streams, the sheer volume
leaving Oliver feeling empty and drained. He hadn’t realised how
tense he’d been and he slumped back against the couch arm, waves of
lethargy washing over him as he relaxed.

Thank God for the towel, he thought drowsily
as he closed his eyes, pulled a blanket he kept close over him and
imagined Leslie lying next to him, curled up against his side like
a sleepy kitten. He’d love to have the warmth of a man’s body next
to him, hear the slight exhalations as he slept, wake up to the
sight of blue eyes staring into his.

What the hell is happening
to me?
was his last coherent thought before he drifted off
into sleep. That man is going to be
so
much trouble…

Chapter 8

Leslie stood at the bar, drumming his fingers on the
top. It was more of a habit than the fact he was impatient. As he
waited for the rather hunky bartender to put his drinks order
together, Leslie watched his friends with a fond smile. It was one
of those rare nights when all of them could get together and they
were gathered at a favourite cocktail bar on the outskirts of
Chelsea.

He watched as Eddie mischievously teased his
boyfriend Gideon’s dark blond, wavy hair into a faux Mohawk. Leslie
was sure that no one had ever done that before, firstly because
Gideon’s hair was longer than it used to be and secondly, because
Gideon would probably have bitten their fingers off. Eddie,
however, managed to smooth the hair into a short, upstanding
facsimile of something similar to Elijah Wood’s version and topped
it off by placing the umbrella from his cocktail drink in the
centre. It certainly looked ridiculous but Gideon was grinning and
gazing at Eddie with so much affection Leslie felt a lick of envy.
He wished someone would look at him like that.

Next to Gideon sat Taylor, his dark hair
waving around his face as he chuckled at Gideon’s new look, and his
hand reached up idly to tuck his own irreverent curls behind his
ear. Taylor’s fiancé, Draven, leaned over and smoothed the hair
away from Taylor’s cheek and then the two men leaned in to each
other for a kiss hot enough to melt metal. Leslie’s dick twitched
at the sight of the two men so obviously enjoying themselves.

“And here I am, the bloody fifth wheel on the
bus. It sucks.”

There was a chuckle from behind the bar and
Leslie turned to see the bartender smiling at him.

“Did you say it sucks or you suck?” The
barman enquired with a cheeky wink. “’Cos if it’s the latter, I
wouldn’t mind testing it out.”

Leslie returned the grin. He liked being hit
on. It gave him confidence that the universe was in balance.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” he said airily
as he picked up the tray and turned to join his friends. “Maybe
I’ll catch up with you later.” He blew a kiss at the barman and
sashayed his way across the floor with his drinks tray. He
deposited the tray on the table and sat down beside Eddie.

“I’ll get the next round as well,” he said
with a wink. “The bartender is pretty cute.” He picked up his lime
daiquiri and took a long slurp.

Eddie chortled. “Go for it, Leslie. He is
hot.” He eyed the bartender closely. “Really hot. He has arms that
could—” He squeaked as Gideon took hold of his ear and twisted it.
“Hey, don’t be like that. I’m allowed to look, aren’t I?” He cast
an injured glance at his lover.

Gideon released his ear. “Look, not drool.
I’ll need to give you a damn bib if you inspect him any
closer.”

Draven let out a bark of laughter. “He does
look as if he works out a lot. Nice chest.” He leered at Taylor.
“But you’re much hotter than him.”

Leslie blew a loud raspberry. “Look at you
trying to get some.” He affected an American accent which he
thought wasn’t half bad. “Butter me up, baby, ’cause I am
so
gonna to get laid tonight…”

Taylor chuckled. “You mean he doesn’t already
every
night?” He rolled his eyes and
nodded at Draven. “The man’s insatiable. I only have to bend down
and he’s like, oh Taylor, shall we indulge in a little bit of hanky
panky…”

Draven smirked. “That’s because you’re hot,
like I said. Don’t go putting all the blame on me either. You’re
the one who hides handcuffs all over the house ‘just in case.’”

Taylor’s face turned darker, which meant he
was blushing under his caramel skin. “Fuck, Draven, don’t tell
everyone about that. Honestly. You have no damn filter.”

Leslie listened to the banter, the sense of
loneliness at times like this intensifying. He was really happy for
Eddie and Taylor having found the men of their dreams, but he
wished he could do the same. That thought made him think of Oliver
and he had a sudden yearning to call him. He put down his drink and
stood up quickly.

“I need to make a phone call, guys. I’ll be
back in a moment.”

He ignored his friends’ cat calls and dirty
comments about phone sex and made his way to the quieter front
lobby of the restaurant. He looked at his watch. Ten p.m. Surely it
wasn’t too late to call Oliver? He squashed down his misgivings and
dialled the number which he already knew by heart. They’d been
texting each other and even had spoken a few times. He knew there
were only two more days to go before their dinner ‘date’ but he
really needed to hear Oliver’s voice again. The phone rang a few
times and just as Leslie was about to disconnect the call, it was
picked up.

“Hello?” Oliver’s voice was thick, sounding
sleepy and Leslie mentally kicked himself. It sounded like he’d
woken him up.

“Hi, it’s Leslie.” He knew the phone would
show an unknown caller as Leslie always suppressed his number after
his stalking incident.

“Leslie? Is everything all right?”

“Yes, everything’s fine. I just wanted to
call and say hello.” He shook his head in shame at that lame
response. Normally he was pretty eloquent but Oliver made him a
little stupid. “I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

“I was watching a film. I might have dozed
off a little so I’m glad you woke me. Are you calling to cancel our
dinner thing on Friday?”

Leslie was horrified. “No, not at all. God
no. Why, do you want to cancel it?” His stomach had butterflies at
that thought.

Oliver gave a low, sexy chuckle. Leslie
remembered hearing that exact noise on a Nicky Starr movie he’d
watched (they were fast becoming an addiction) in the last week and
his cock grew hard.

Down, you poxy thing. I
can’t go back to the table with a hard-on. Those guys notice
everything.

“No, Leslie, I don’t want to cancel. I’m
looking forward to it. A little nervous about going out in public
to somewhere that isn’t one of my safe places, but I’m willing to
take the chance.”

A wave of relief swept through Leslie. “Oh,
good. Me, too. You’ll be awesome. I mean, the date will be awesome,
although you will, too, of course.” He closed his mouth, wondering
why it was that this man turned him into a babbling idiot.

“What are up you tonight then that you called
me?”

“I’m just out with some friends at the
moment, having a drink or two. I feel a bit out of things actually
because everyone has their significant other with them.” He sighed.
“Although the bartender has hit on me, so I suppose that’s a good
sign I still have my mojo.”

“The bartender hit on you? You might get
lucky tonight then.”

Leslie didn’t think he imagined the tinge of
jealousy in Oliver’s voice and he hugged that thought close as he
smiled crazily into the phone. “I s’pose. Anyway, that wasn’t why I
called. I just wanted to say hi.”

“I’m glad you did,” Oliver said quietly.

There was a comfortable silence then Leslie
sighed. “Well, I guess I should be social and get back to the crazy
bastards currently trying to build a pyramid on the table with
their drinks. I’ll see you Friday then?”

“Yes, I’ll be there. I won’t let you
down.”

“Friday it is then. Night, Oliver.”

“Night, Leslie. Thanks for the call.” The
phone went dead and Leslie knew he had a stupid grin on his face a
mile wide. He sashayed back to the table.

Taylor looked at him knowingly. “You called
Oliver, didn’t you?”

Leslie’s jaw dropped open. “Get out of here,
how did you know that, did you see something in that head of
yours?” He narrowed his eyes. “And you do know he’s a secret,
right?” He huffed. “You were supposed to keep it to yourselves,
guys. Not tell the boyfriends.”

Gideon snorted. “Good luck with telling Eddie
something and expecting him to keep it a secret. He let it slip
that you’d met Nicky Starr and all I had to do was tickle it out of
him. As well as another thing I did to get him to talk.” He
smirked. Eddie flushed and went a deep pink.

The whole table erupted into laughter.

“No, you daft bugger, I didn’t ‘see’
anything.” Taylor grinned. “It’s just that whenever you say his
name, you get this goofy look on your face. You had the same look
when you went to make your phone call. And don’t worry; none of us
would ever spill the beans about him. You know that.”

“You’ve got it bad for this guy, Leslie,”
murmured Eddie with a smile. “Are you falling for him?”

Leslie tossed his head haughtily. “We’re just
friends.”

There were more hoots around the table.
“Yeah, we believe that one,” Taylor scoffed. “Like we believe you
didn’t send that blow-up dinosaur to Gideon for his birthday.”

Leslie fluttered his eyelashes and affected a
southern accent. “Well, I do declah, sir, you have me all wrong. I
swear on my pinkie finger that I did not send that big, green,
six-foot dinosaur to this man, and I will swear that ’til my dying
day.”

Gideon snorted. “You bloody little liar. You
might have gotten someone else to post it but I know it was you who
sent me that damned monstrosity.” He shivered in remembrance. “All
green and fuck, it glowed, too.”

Eddie snorted drink out of his nose and for a
moment everyone was distracted as they cleaned up the beer that had
sprayed over the table. Leslie grinned. Laverne had had the time of
her life posting the horrible thing to Gideon. The post office
worker had blushed as they’d stood there filling in the recorded
mail slip that said what was contained in the box. They’d been
fairly vocal about their ‘package,’ which had led to more lewd
jokes. Leslie was still surprised they hadn’t been kicked out of
the premises.

He looked around at the people closest to
him, his heart warmed by the sight. He was very lucky to have such
good friends and was really looking forward to introducing them to
Oliver one by one. He intended to try and bring the man back into
the world again and hoped that in the process, something would
happen between them that wasn’t just friendship.

A man could hope couldn’t he?

Chapter 9

Oliver leaned back in his chair and burped
loudly.

Leslie burst into a fit of giggles. “Oh God,
excuse my pig; he’s a friend,” he said to the man sitting at the
next table. The man smiled benevolently and continued eating what
looked like grilled salmon.

Oliver grinned, his face alight with
mischief. “Sorry about that. The food is just so damn good, I was
showing my appreciation.”

Leslie smiled back at him. At first, Oliver
had been nervous upon arrival at the restaurant, hanging behind
Leslie as he walked into Galileo’s. After meeting Gideon, who had
been at his most charming and who’d personally escorted them to
their intimate table in the corner behind a wooden screen filled
with fragrant red flowers, Oliver had finally begun to relax.

He was dressed in a pair of black chinos,
coupled with a white, open-necked, long-sleeved shirt which hugged
his muscled frame like a wetsuit, with a black-and-white-striped
waistcoat, closed, but for the top two buttons. Leslie was
definitely a fan of the look. Oliver’s wavy blond hair was artfully
styled and held in place with gel, and the scar Leslie knew was
there was hidden behind thick strands that framed his handsome
face.

“I told you he was a great chef. Your prime
rib looked really tasty. I have to say my calamari was delicious.”
He sipped his third glass of wine. He was feeling rather mellow.
The man across the table looked incredibly sexy and Leslie was
really beginning to get impatient. Yes, he knew the whole ‘let’s be
friends’ thing was a start, but honestly? His dick was raring to go
and get Oliver into bed. He didn’t think his libido would hold out
much longer. It had been on high alert ever since seeing Oliver
standing outside the restaurant, looking slightly overwhelmed. The
sheer vulnerability of the man had struck a chord in Leslie’s
tender heart.