Following the Rules (The Script Club 1) - Page 33

“Dr. Watson,” he corrected.

“You can’t give yourself a promotion. You work at an Office Depot,” I reminded him matter-of-factly.

He furrowed his brow. “I don’t think that occupation would suit me. I’d be better at forensics.”

“What did we say about rules?” I scolded.

“Fine.” Topher cleared his throat and fell into character when he continued, “Well, tardiness is unacceptable. I’m not pleased.”

“And?”

“Uh…if it happens again, I’ll have to take drastic measures,” he said in a flat tone.

“Like what? Are you gonna fire me or dock my pay or take something from me?”

Topher cocked his head curiously. “Take something? What would I take? Did you steal staples or ballpoint pens? I don’t get it.”

I snickered. “I don’t know. I’m wingin’ it. Ball’s in your court. I was late to work. What are you gonna do about it, Watson?”

“Um…” He licked his lips. “Do? I don’t know and, um…we should listen to the lecture. This is important.”

“I won’t be able to concentrate until you tell me what you want.”

Topher shook his head vehemently. “I can’t do that.”

When he pushed his glasses up his nose and peered around me to check out the screen, I scooted to block him again. “We have to finish the scene, Topher…I mean, Watson.”

“Simon…”

“I’m late, and you’re exasperated. You don’t want to fire me ’cause you’re short-staffed.”

“I’ll dock your pay.”

“Nah, you wouldn’t do that. But you might make me work late or—oh, hang on.” I pulled my cell out when it buzzed in my pocket. “Sorry. I have to check this in case it’s my agent. And…nope. It’s not him. Where were we? Oh yeah, you want me to work extra hours and give you some—”

“Dick,” he blurted.

“Oh. Okay.”

He opened his mouth in a perfect O, his gaze flitting to my crotch. “Simon…”

“And what exactly do you want to do with my dick?” I set my hand on his knee and slipped my fingers under his khakis. “Do you want to suck it or ride it? And before you answer that question, please tell me we’re on mute.”

Topher blinked as if to clear cobwebs. “Yes, I always confirm it.”

“Good, ’cause that would have been—ungh…”

Topher lunged.

He wrapped his hand around my neck and shoved his tongue in my mouth. The sudden movement knocked me off balance. I leaned forward and accidentally sent the mountain of pillows flying. I pushed the remaining ones out of the way and dove sideways onto the sofa, pulling Topher on top of me.

We made out in a fury. Our tongues tangled and twisted as we writhed against each other. After a few minutes, my lips felt bee-stung, my skin tingled everywhere, and my dick ached. No kidding, I was on fire. I wriggled under Topher, tugging his T-shirt from his shorts, splaying my fingers on his back. I was desperate to feel him. His skin was warm and smooth…and damn, he smelled amazing too. Like fancy soap or good cologne. I broke for air and licked a path up his neck, nipping his chin as I squeezed his ass and lifted my hips.

“Oh, I want your dick,” he moaned, grinding against me feverishly.

“You can have it.” I held his face in my hands and plunged my tongue between his lips in a rough kiss. “Take it.”

Topher sat up, kicked off his shoes, and yanked his shirt over his head. He locked his eyes with me as he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his fly. He lowered his boxer briefs and shorts, freeing his cock. I licked my lips, watching it bounce in the air, as if it were the most mesmerizing thing I’d ever seen. And it kind of was.

This was the first time I’d unabashedly participated in give-and-take sexual contact with a man. I didn’t want him to do all the work and make this less “gay” for me. I wanted to touch him and give him pleasure. I wanted to kiss him, lick him, tease him, and yes…I wanted to fuck him.

I reached for him, unthinking, and gripped him at his base. He was smaller than me. Not by much, though. I tested his girth, running my thumb along the underside of his length to his tip. Then I curled my fingers around his shaft and stroked. It was a long, lazy pull. More exploratory than erotic. I was fascinated by his unfettered response, loving the feel of his cock hardening in my hand. Damn, that was hot.

I released him to tug my shorts and briefs over my ass and pulled him close, wedging my hand between our tightly pressed torsos to wrap my fingers around both of us. And holy fuck, it was good.

Really fucking good.

I captured his mouth in a searing kiss and ran my free hand through his hair and down his spine, resting it on his ass. I traced his crack with a featherlight touch. It was more tentative than teasing. I knew I didn’t have any game here. I was an intrepid explorer fumbling around, hoping I wasn’t doing anything wrong. I figured if I stuck with what I liked, I might be okay.

Tags: Lane Hayes The Script Club Romance
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