The Chase: Brit Boys: On Boys (4 page)

Robert was watching him, his eyes the brightest part of his face in the dim light. They were glassy, wide and unblinking. His mouth was open, lips retracted and his teeth gritted.

He’d never been more handsome to Steve.

This was Robert at his most naked, consumed with the need to come, come down Steve’s throat.

Steve continued to stare up, knowing what a dirty, erotic sight he was for Robert; lips stretched around the thickness of his cock; cheeks flushed; breaths huffing from his nostrils and hovering wetly before dissipating into the night.

“Oh. God. I’m gonna…come…”

Steve didn’t acknowledge the words, he just kept on taking Robert’s cock. His jaw ached, saliva dripped from his chin and his heart was racing.

“Ah…ah…” Robert cried.

Steve hoped no one was passing on the street. But that thought was soon overtaken with his need to breathe, to swallow, to devour Robert’s pleasure as his cock throbbed and spurted.

Once.

Twice.

Again.

More cum, thick and viscous, salty and sweet, took a hot slide down his gullet. Steve’s eyes watered with the effort of taking what his Master was giving him, but he was determined to take it all. It had been so long, such a soul-aching waste of time that they’d been apart.

He snorted and tightened his clasp on Robert’s hips.

Robert went further down his throat. His cock gave one almighty pulse, then he pulled out and sank to his knees.

“Oh, fucking…hell,” he said, then kissed Steve. His tongue was urgent, tangling, twisting. He was breathing so hard, the air a storm on Steve’s cheeks.

Steve kissed him back. He was dizzy with lust, and high on the fact he’d given Robert such pleasure.

“That was…incredible,” Robert said, breaking the kiss and squeezing Steve close. He tucked his head beneath his chin and stroked his hair, soothing the roots that had taken such a tugging.

“Yes,” Steve said, closing his eyes and nestling close.

“Everything and more.”

“More.”

Robert slid his hand down Steve’s back and slapped the top of his buttock. “More?”

“Yep.”

“Greed will get you everywhere.” He laughed.

Robert was breathing fast, his chest shifting Steve’s body. But Steve loved it. Loved that he’d made Robert climax so hard that his legs had given way and he was breathless as fuck.

They stayed locked together for several minutes.

Steve tried to bolt down a shiver. But the Welsh night was cold and sparkly and penetrated through his hoodie and jeans to his bones.

“Come on.” Robert stood, hauling Steve with him. “It’s time to go home.”

“What about Carrick?” Steve asked, frowning as his stiff knees complained at straightening.

“Do we need any more of this chasing around?”

Steve shrugged. “We could at least check out the castle? It’s like literally over the street.”

Robert shook his head and stroked Steve’s cheek. “Persistent bugger, aren’t you?”

“That’s how I got you to go out with me in the first place if you remember correctly.”

Robert laughed, throwing his head back and exposing his stubble-coated throat.

Steve leaned in and licked over his Adam’s apple. He’d propositioned Robert the first time they’d met. Robert had been full of himself, the big man, and Steve challenged him to a drinking contest and then a who-could-hold-off-coming-the-longest-during-a-blowjob. He couldn’t remember who’d won either. They’d ended up steaming drunk and both very satisfied. The next morning they’d decided to wander to a nearby greasy spoon café for breakfast and then try the whole contest all over again.

“Come on then,” Robert said, shoving his now deflated cock back into his underwear and hitching up his jeans. “Let’s go and have a quick gander, but if there is nothing there, we’re going to mine, pronto. It’s too fucking cold out here for you in just your Hollister hoodie.”

“I like this hoodie.”

“It’s gay.”

“Yeah, so am I.” Steve laughed. “Or hadn’t you noticed.”

Robert laughed too and slid his arm around Steve’s waist.

As they exited the alleyway, Steve knew he’d never walk up Westgate Street again without remembering this moment.

They stepped onto Castle Street, and were met with stone gargoyles, sculpted eagles and strange, pointy-eared cats that stared, unblinking at them. The ornaments sat along the top of the bridge that led to the castle and their large, dark figures sent a tremor through Steve.

Robert settled his arm around him. “You want my coat?”

“Nah, then you’ll be cold.”

“Believe me, I’m hot.”

Steve giggled. “Yeah, I bet you are. But we’ll be in the warm soon, so I’ll survive. We’ll check out the castle and then go and get ourselves a drink.”

“Or into bed.”

“Mmm…sounds like a good plan.”

They walked quickly, avoiding a few late night revellers who’d spilled to the castle side of the street. Steve hoped they wouldn’t get any abuse for embracing. The drunks in town could kick off if they happened to notice affection between men.

Fortunately they were ignored.

A bus rattled past; its loud rumble and hiss from the engine roared up the stone ramparts and growled down to the base of the moat.

Soon the castle entrance came into view, surrounded by imposing square towers adorned with flags. A narrow path led to an arched wooden door that was deep in shadow.

“What do you think?” Steve asked.

“Dunno really,” Robert said, releasing Steve and walking up to the magnificent old oak door that was, of course, closed. He ran his hand over the wood then along the ornate iron furniture.

“Can you see anything?”

Robert poked his finger into the lock. “Fuck!”

“What?”

“There’s something in here?”

“No!” Steve felt his heart flip. Had they really got Carrick’s clue right?

“Yeah, hang on…I’ll get it…” Robert stooped, giving Steve a good look at his arse.

Steve had always adored Robert’s arse; whether clothed or naked, it was the perfect handful, and in those worn denims…yum!

“I’ve got it.” Robert stood and turned. He was holding a piece of paper that had been rolled up like a cigar.

“Oh…open it,” Steve said, rushing to his side.

Hurriedly, Robert unfurled the paper.

Steve saw the same handwriting as before. It
was
from Carrick.

His knees weakened and a thrill fanned over his cold skin. He hoped to hell they’d be able to figure out this clue. “What’s it say?” His teeth chattered a little.

“It says… My halo slipped eighty-six times!”

“What…the hell…does that mean?” Steve said.

“Fuck knows.” Robert grunted. “But I’m not hanging around to think about it. I just heard your teeth rattle. You’ll have bloody hypothermia soon.”

“No.” Steve stamped his feet and brushed his hands over his arms. The material on his hoodie felt a little damp from the misty air and was cool on his forearms. “I’m fine. Let’s just think for a minute. Because we might get it. And if he’s waiting…”

“It would be a great way to warm up.” A seriously filthy smile spread on Robert’s face and his eyes sparkled.

“Exactly.” Steve blew into his hands and rubbed them together. “So what’s the halo thing?”

“Well, angels have halos but Carrick is no angel.”

“So maybe he’s the devil.”

“He’s sexy as hell, that’s for sure, but devil?” Robert frowned and compressed his lips.

“Devil. Mmm, is there a bar around here called Devils?”

“Nah, not that I know of.”

“Cardiff Devils, the hockey team.”

“Bloody hell, the rink is miles away.”

Steve sighed. He was too damn cold to think straight. He turned and looked over the road at a tall, cream hotel. He wished he was warm and cosy in one of the bedrooms right now. Preferably naked and pressed up against Robert. Robert
and
Carrick would be ideal, just for tonight, just for the fantasy—warm, hot, sweaty and subbing for two gorgeous Doms was very appealing.

He wondered how much rooms were.

A sudden thought crashed into his mind. “Robert!”

“What?”

“The hotel, there.” He pointed. “What’s it called?”

Robert’s eyes widened. “Fuck, it’s The Angel.”

“Exactly, so do you think that’s where he is?”

“In room eighty-six?”

“It kind of makes sense.”

“Fuck, you’re right. It does.” Robert puffed up his cheeks and held his breath for a moment before blowing it out in a foggy, pencil-straight stream. “So…” He reached for Steve’s hands. “If you’re right, and he’s over there in one of those rooms waiting for us, are you still up for this?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, a lot has happened tonight. We’ve admitted how we’ve both been feeling and we’re going to have another go at being together and now…” He paused. “And now we’re going to have a threesome, probably.”

Steve hesitated. “Yes, a lot has happened but it feels so right. It feels like we were never apart. It’s all so perfect.”

Robert smiled. “That’s what it’s like for me too. We fit together so fucking well.”

Steve nodded. He felt like he’d landed back from whatever lonely planet he’d been existing on. “And we’ve spoken in the past about a threesome, and let’s face it, we both fancy the arse off Carrick.”

“I fancy you more.”

Steve smiled. “Good to hear. But we do, don’t we?”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind a bit of action with him.”

“So let’s go for it. It’s just for one night; he’s a tumbleweed, he lives out of his suitcase. Not likely to get another chance for a while, never if he hits the big time.”

Robert nodded. “Okay, and…” He bit on his lower lip.

“What’s up?”

“Are you okay to bottom, be my sub with him there or do you just want vanilla?”

“Hell yeah, sub all the way! I know you’ll look after me.”

“Always, for as long as I live.” Robert draped his arm around Steve’s shoulder and tugged him close. “Come on, let’s get into the warm.”

The front entrance of The Angel glowed with inviting buttery light that spilt onto the pavement, glittering like frosty diamond chips. The automatic glass front door slid open and they stepped inside.

“Fuck, that’s better,” Steve said as hot air wrapped around him.

“Yeah, much.” Robert drew to a halt.

Before them was a grand sweeping staircase with cherubs on the newels holding brass candelabras. To the left a tall wooden reception desk sat in front of heavy scarlet curtains. A vase of red and cream roses rose upwards from a black vase.

“Can I help you, gentlemen?” A man in a navy uniform stood from behind the desk.

Robert walked towards him, his shoes clicking on the smooth tiled floor. “Er, yes. We’re meeting a friend, in room eighty-six.”

The man’s expression didn’t change. “Is the guest expecting you? It is rather late.”

“Yes,” Steve said quickly, catching Robert up. He didn’t want to get this far and then have his fantasy fall apart because of this stranger. “He is. Call him.”

“What if he’s asleep?”

“He isn’t.” Robert said. “We just spoke to him.”

Steve could hear the tension in Robert’s voice. He obviously felt the same as him. They were so near yet still so far.

The member of staff passed his attention between them. “What is the name of this guest?”

“Carrick Rawlin, he’s told us to join him there. It’s a…business meeting. We’ll pay extra if we have to.”

“That won’t be necessary, the room is paid for.” He picked up an old-fashioned black telephone with a curly wire. He pressed two buttons.

Steve held his breath. They must have guessed that last clue correctly. Carrick really was here, and in room eighty-six.

“Hello, sir, I am really very sorry to bother you this late, but I have two gentlemen in reception who claim you are expecting them.”

Robert reached for Steve’s hand and gave it a squeeze.

Steve strained to hear what was being said. He couldn’t make anything out.

“Okay, yes, okay, sir. I will. Very good.” He put down the phone. “Mr. Rawlin said to go up. The lift is just there or you can use the stairs. Room eighty-six is on the second floor facing the castle.”

A bolt of adrenaline shot through Steve’s veins, his legs felt twitchy—fight or flight—and his stomach somersaulted.

This was it.

“Thank you,” Robert said. He towed Steve towards the stairs, his strides purposeful and his jaw set determinedly.

“Fuck,” Steve muttered. “We got it right.”

“Still would have been easier to just give us the address and room number. He’s clearly not too worried about the concierge knowing he’s got two blokes in his room.”

“He maybe just likes the thrill of the chase.” Steve climbed up the first section of stairs one step behind Robert.

Robert huffed. “Would have been okay if it wasn’t so cold. Your hands are like blocks of ice.”

“I’m okay,” Steve said. “And besides, we had fun, didn’t we?”

Robert turned and dropped his gaze down Steve’s body. “Yeah, you’re right. We did.”

They reached the second floor.

“That way,” Robert said, pointing to a sign indicating the hotel room numbers.

The corridors were empty and the two fire doors they had to go through heavy. But soon they were standing outside room eighty-six.

“Behind that door,” Robert said, “is our fantasy.”

“Do you think we’re his?” Steve asked.

“I’m pretty damn sure you are,” Robert said, leaning in for a kiss. “And who the hell can blame him.”

Steve smiled against Robert’s mouth.

“Ah, you’re here.”

Steve hadn’t heard the door open.

Before them stood Carrick—tall, dark, handsome and wearing a thick white robe with
The Angel
embroidered in gold thread over his right pec.

“Come in,” Carrick said, flinging the door wide and making a sweeping movement with his hand. “Please, enter my lair.”

Robert stepped forward and tugged Steve with him.

As Steve walked past Carrick he could smell him—shower gel, soap, no sign of Davidoff, just cleanliness and man. He breathed deep, enjoying the freshness after the dank alley and the beer-laced air outside.

“What kept you?” Carrick asked, shutting the door and sliding the chain into place.

“Well, someone thought it would be funny to send us on a wild goose chase around Cardiff,” Robert said, releasing Steve and folding his arms.

“Ah, I think it was more of a treasure hunt.” Carrick held out his hands and laughed. “And here I am, the treasure.”

Robert laughed and flexed and unflexed his chilled fingers. “Well, at least you’re some place warm. It’s cold enough to freeze the nuts off a brass monkey out there.”

Carrick frowned. “You haven’t got a coat?”

Robert shook his head.

“Can I?” Robert said, pointing to the minibar.

“Help yourself.” Carrick moved closer to Steve. “And get one for your sub too.”

Robert opened his mouth to speak.

“Ah, I knew you two would figure it out on the way here, and I’m not just talking about the clues, I mean getting back together. It’s meant to be. I see the way you look at each other; if you didn’t already have history then you definitely needed to make some.”

“Well—” Steve started.

“And did you have fun on the way? When deciding to give it another go?” Carrick asked. “Actually, I don’t have to ask, that wasn’t there earlier, was it.” He pointed at Steve’s neck.

Steve rubbed the tender spot that Robert had sucked. “You mean, that was all designed to…?”

“To give you some time together while you were feeling horny, yes. Just fucking glad you didn’t take much longer.” Carrick cupped his groin. “Otherwise I’d have had to sort myself out and I’d be all used up.”

“Oh, I think we would have got you going again,” Robert said, straightening. “Here, drink this, Steve.” He passed him a mini bottle of brandy. “It will warm you up.”

Steve took it. He didn’t particularly like brandy but he’d do as Robert told him. He unscrewed the lid and knocked it back. “Whoa,” he said as the alcohol slapped his tongue and sizzled down to his stomach.

“Are you cold?” Carrick asked, reaching for Steve’s free hand.

“He’s not far off bloody hypothermia,” Robert said, fiddling with the radiator.

“Jesus.” Carrick’s face dropped. “You’re like an iceberg.” He turned and led Steve past an enormous bed that was strewn with plum-coloured blankets.

Steve went with him into a large bathroom. The furniture was white, but like the room it was decorated in rich, jewel shades and the towels were black and thick.

“What are you doing?” Robert asked, walking in after them then looking around at the huge corner bath and the massive walk-in shower cubicle. “Fuck, it’s nice in here.”