Playing to Win (10 page)

“Perhaps it’s meant to be an art piece in itself.”

“Is it from a museum? What’s that plaque on the bottom say?”

Andrew released Colin’s hand as he leaned over to examine the pedestal. “I don’t see a—”

“Bye!” Colin darted down the hall toward their room.
 

“You bastard!” Andrew’s feet thundered behind him. “And after I came back for you!”

 
Colin inserted his key in the lock, then pushed the door open.
 

But he just couldn’t do it. It wasn’t fair. He wanted to win, but a victory by cheating would taste even fouler than a loss. No matter how much the prize hurt.

So Colin stood at the threshold and held the door for Andrew. “After you.”

R
ED
,
BLUE
,
SILVER
, or gold?

Colin hadn’t known luxury condoms even existed. Pacing beside the hotel bed, forced to choose from the assortment packet Andrew had tossed him before disappearing into the bathroom, he wished he’d done a bit of research.

He peered at the silky foil wrappers to see if they indicated sizes or textures, but found nothing save the fancy swooping logo.

Perhaps this was a test. Perhaps Andrew would choose a task for Colin based upon which color condom wrapper he selected.

Gonnae no think like that. You’ll go off your head.

Before leaving to “freshen up,” Andrew had given no clue how Colin was to serve him tonight. He’d seemed shocked to have won and said he needed a few minutes to ponder the matter.

The bathroom door handle turned. Colin snatched a blue-wrapped condom, along with the wee bottle of lubricant, then shoved both in his front jeans pocket before setting the condoms’ velvety box on the desk.

Andrew entered, wearing nothing but that storm-gray button-down shirt, the hem of which came to the tops of his tanned, toned thighs. The look was ferociously sexy, like something out of an arty porno.

He stopped a few feet away and looked at Colin with an almost eerie serenity.

“Well?” Colin asked, hating the tremor in his own voice. “Do you know what you want?”

“Yes, I know exactly.” Andrew folded his hands before him. “I want you to tell me what to do.”

Is this a trick?
“But…you won the race. It’s your call.”

“It’s true I won. I’ve got the power.” His limbs went soft as he met Colin’s eyes. “And I’m giving it all to you.”

Colin’s pulse throbbed in his throat. “I’ve never done this sort of thing.”

“I’m sure you’re a natural.” Andrew’s posture straightened, and his voice turned businesslike. “Now, a few ground rules for our play. While I’m not averse to pain, I don’t specifically seek it. I quite fancy manhandling, restraint, hair-pulling, biting, et cetera. But no hitting.” He emphasized the last two words. “If you even think of spanking me, I’ll punch your dick inside out.”

Colin blinked. “Got it.”

“Also, we must agree on a safe word, something either of us can say if we’re not comfortable with what’s happening.”

“What’s wrong with ‘no’ or ‘stop’ or ‘gonnae no do that’?”

“Those words can be misinterpreted.” Andrew’s lips twitched. “Sometimes they
should
be misinterpreted.”

A chill ran across Colin’s shoulders at the implication, and he felt more out of his depth than ever. “So what word, then?”

“Something we both like but don’t associate with sex.” He brightened. “How about ‘foosball’?”

Colin started laughing, and then he couldn’t stop. He laughed so hard, he thought he might choke on his own tongue.
This is not happening
, he thought.
I’m gonnae wake any moment now, in my own wee bed in Drumchapel, with an erection the size of a power drill.

“Colin, what’s wrong?” Andrew asked softly.

Colin’s laughter stopped mid-breath. Had Andrew ever spoken his name before? On that tongue, it seemed a magic word.

He straightened up, running a hand through his hair. “Nothing, I—this is all so new, and I’m worried it’ll get turned about on me. It’s only fair I should be your servant after this, right?”

Andrew’s eyes went sad. “That’s not how this works. If you want it turned about, you ask for it. No one gets bullied into submission. We choose it. We embrace it.”

“But why would you want that?” Colin’s throat grew thick with fear. “Why would anyone want to feel powerless?”

Andrew stepped forward to stand near him at the foot of the bed, which made Colin realize only now that he’d been backing away since the start of the conversation.

“I want it because I want it.” He lifted Colin’s hand, kissed his palm, then rested it against his own cheek. “So I’m asking you. I’m begging you. Please…tell me what to do.”

Colin stared at him, fighting the panic inside.
What if I say something daft or do something stupid? What if I
hurt
him?

He reached forward, sliding his fingers through Andrew’s hair, watching those eyes close at the scrape of nails against scalp. Then his fist clamped on the silky strands, tugging them tight.

“Ah.” Andrew’s lips parted, then curled into a tiny, ecstatic smile. It was all Colin needed.

He yanked Andrew forward into a hard, hungry kiss that made them both moan. Andrew’s body melted into his, soft and supple, pleading to be possessed. Much as Colin wanted to clutch him tight, he wouldn’t give in, not yet. He couldn’t control this man until he could control himself.

He shoved Andrew away and said, “Take off your shirt.”

“As you wish.” Eyes gleaming, he started undoing the buttons—too quickly, as Colin had no time to think of his next order.

“Stop.”

Andrew stopped. Just like that. An electric thrill shot up from Colin’s toes, all the way to the crown of his head.

“Do it slower,” he told Andrew. “And start from the bottom button. In fact, do all the buttons up and start again.”

“Yes, Master.”

Colin winced. “Gonnae no call me that. It’s cheesy.”

“My apologies. What shall I call you?”

Say my name. It slays me when you say my name.
“Nothing. If you must speak, then just say yes or no. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Andrew’s smooth voice held an aching edge that seemed to stroke Colin’s cock from base to tip.

“On second thought, say ‘aye’ instead of ‘yes.’ Be a true Scotsman.”

A tiny muscle twitched under Andrew’s eye. Then he simply nodded.

Colin turned away, feeling his own face heat under that icy gaze. If only there were a way to shroud it so he wouldn’t have to watch Andrew watching him. Judging his performance, no doubt.

He saw the sleep kits in their silk bags lying on the desk.
Perfect.
He pulled out one of the black velvet masks. “I’m gonnae put this on you now.”

Andrew gasped. “Oh yes. I mean—aye.”

Colin fixed the mask on him, then stepped back to regard his work. Free from scrutiny, he let himself stare.

My God, that is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

“Don’t move.” He walked to the desk, where someone had left them a bottle of wine chilling in an ice bucket, along with a bottle of whisky.

Colin poured a dram of the latter, hoping it would stop his hands shaking. The room seemed suddenly warm, so he added a pair of ice cubes, though it was probably a crime against this single-malt.

He angled one of the armchairs to face Andrew, then sank into it with a contented sigh. “Continue,” he said, hoping he sounded calm. “Use your left hand only, and put the other behind your back.”

Without hesitating, Andrew obeyed. His long, slender fingers, with their buffed, manicured nails, trembled a wee bit more with each button. Transfixed, Colin sipped his whisky, willing his own hand to stay steady and not rattle the ice against the glass. His swallows sounded loud in his ears, eclipsing even the bass-drum thump of his pulse.

When Andrew was finished, his open shirt offered a glimpse of a perfectly smooth chest, as well as the most lickable abs Colin had ever seen.

Colin had to clear his throat. “Well done. Now turn around. I don’t want to see your face again until I’m inside you.”

Andrew’s toes curled into the carpet, which Colin took as a good sign. Then he did as he was told.

“Take off your shirt and drop it on the floor, nice and slow-like.”

Andrew peeled it off, one shoulder at a time, then let it fall behind him, revealing a red jock brief consisting of nothing but a waistband and a strap running beneath each cheek of his utterly exposed arse. Colin let out an unmasterly sigh of admiration.

Andrew tilted his chin down and to the side. “Aye?”

“Aye.” His entire body screamed the word. “Get on your knees.”

Andrew shivered, then started to drop to the floor.

“Not there. On the—that thing, that furniture thing at the foot of the bed.”

“It’s a bench.”

“Shut up.”

“Sorry.” Andrew obeyed, and then some, bending forward to place his hands on the bed. “Aye?”

No,
I’m
sorry. I shouldn’t have told you to shut up.

“Aye.” Colin got to his feet and walked over, stopping to stand on Andrew’s discarded shirt with his dirty shoes. He took a sip of whisky and pulled an ice cube into his mouth. He set the glass on the bench within reach, then grasped Andrew’s arse with one warm hand and one cold one.

Andrew wriggled with pleasure, muscles clenching under unnaturally smooth skin. Here was a lad who groomed every inch of himself for display, both public and private. By some miracle, he was Colin’s tonight. After that, who cared?

Colin crunched the ice cube as he massaged Andrew’s glutes. “I’m gonnae give you my tongue now.”

Andrew whimpered. “Aye.”

“It’s gonnae be cold. You might not fancy it.”

“I will,” he said, squirming. “I’ll fancy anything you do to me.”

“Shh.” Colin crouched down, bringing his mouth in line with Andrew’s crease, which of course was as smooth and clean as the rest of him. “Be still.”

When Colin’s cold, erect tongue began to stroke his hole, Andrew cried out, nearly a scream. His thighs shuddered, making his arse flex in Colin’s hands.

But he didn’t say
foosball
.

So Colin kept licking, exploring every contour of Andrew’s entrance until his tongue warmed again. “You like it cold?”

“Aye.” The word was a plea. “I love it. No one’s ever—”

“Shh.” Colin took another leisurely sip of whisky, sliding the other ice cube noisily about his mouth. But when he spit it back into the glass, he set his finger against it, chilling it thoroughly.
A wee surprise.

He went back to devouring the space between Andrew’s cheeks, producing a yelp of pleasure with each swipe of his freezing tongue.

Then he replaced his mouth with the ice-cold finger.

“Ah! God…” Andrew bunched the bedspread in his fists as Colin stroked his hole, first tickling, then probing, just a fraction of an inch. The greedy way Andrew’s arse gripped his finger, drawing it in, was all Colin could take.

He straightened up and started undoing his jeans. “I cannae wait no more.”

“No.”

Colin paused, belt unbuckled. Did Andrew mean
no
as in
not yet
, or
no
as in
don’t wait
?

“Don’t wait.” Andrew pushed back against him. “Please.”

“Wheesht!” He pulled the condom and lube from his pocket. “Mind, you don’t give the orders tonight.”
Or any night.

“Aye,” Andrew whispered.

Colin pushed his jeans and briefs down to his ankles, not bothering to step out of them or even remove his shoes. Then he slipped on the condom, which truly did feel different—smoother and softer, with a grip that was pure secure.

Rich people have everything better. Even condoms.

He forced himself to focus on the hotness in front of him, not the opulence around him. Not the sheets with a higher thread count than his family’s weekly income, not the bed’s elegant carved-wood headboard, not the gilded mirror to his right.

Actually, that last thing might be good to keep in mind.

With a generous dose of lubricant—also the most amazing sort he’d ever felt—Colin was ready. He probed Andrew with one slick finger, then two, until Andrew’s moans pitched with impatience.

“Do you want it now?” Colin asked.

“Aye.”

“Sorry, cannae hear you.”

“Aye!” Andrew arched his back and neck, tilting up his beautiful masked face.

Colin slid between those luscious round cheeks, dragging his head fore and aft of Andrew’s hole, then giving it steady pressure until it invited him in, smooth and eager.

“Yes,” Andrew whispered. “Oh yes.”

Colin didn’t correct this vocabulary mistake, as his own words were all stolen by the warm silk of Andrew’s body. He squeezed his eyes shut—partly to savor the feel of their connection, but mostly to block its overpowering sight. Even so, the moments-fresh image of his cock gliding into Andrew threatened to make Colin explode here and now. How humiliating that would be.

When Colin was certain of his self-control, he eased forward, searching for the usual place of resistance where he’d need to halt, then wait for signs to go deeper.

The place wasn’t there. Before he knew it, he was completely inside Andrew. “How’d you do that?” he asked. “How’d you take all of me at once?” He ran his hand over Andrew’s waist. “It doesnae hurt?”

“Not with someone I really want.” He angled his hips and moved back, enveloping the last few millimeters. “Not with someone I trust.”

Colin held him still, his heart pounding with more than desire. “Why do you trust me?”

Andrew angled his head to the side. “Shouldn’t I?”

“You’re not afraid of me?”

The corner of Andrew’s mouth tilted up. “I didn’t say that.”

He felt a surge of rage. What had he ever done to make Andrew fear him? Even the control he wielded now was but a sham. Andrew could afford to play this game, because in real life, the power was all his.

Colin reached forward and grasped Andrew’s hair. “Don’t look at me. I said I didnae want to see your face.”