Well-Tailored (Thorne and Dash 4)

“Use that voice again, and the fucking’s off.”

Darius grabbed Marc’s hips and hauled him forward. “Want to keep playing games?”

Marc shook his head. All he wanted to do was Darius.

“I didn’t think so.” He bent and pressed his lips to Marc’s. The kiss was softer than expected. Darius cradled Marc’s face in his hands as he teased Marc’s lips, inviting him to open rather than forcing his way in. Marc wasn’t usually a fan of slow and gentle, but this… This could destroy him.

Marc parted his lips, and when Darius sucked on his tongue, Marc could barely stay on his feet. Fuck, that felt incredible.

He thrust against Darius, loving the feel of his erection pressing into Marc’s abdomen. He wished they were already naked and he could feel Darius’s skin against his own.

Darius growled and the kiss intensified, but there was still something different about it, something more than animal hunger. Was it because they’d been ramping up the tension for hours? Maybe, but shouldn’t the wait have made them even rougher than usual?

“What would happen if we fucked in an actual bed?” The words spilled from Marc’s mouth before his lust-addled brain could stop them.

Darius stilled, and Marc worried he would walk away.

“A bed? Like at my apartment or yours?”

“Unless you have a particular thing for fucking in hotels,” Marc said. “I’d go for that too.”

Darius pretended to consider that. “No, I can’t say I’ve ever had a hotel fetish.”

“Okay, then. My place or yours?” Marc’s heart pounded. He was either going to screw this up for good, or they were going to turn their nightly fuck into something more serious.

“So you really want me to pound you into a mattress rather than a table?”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Marc said with more nonchalance than he thought he could manage. “The table’s fantastic. I fantasize about it all the time.”

“My place is closer,” Darius said as he stepped back and straightened his clothes. “We’ll leave your car here and walk.”

Was he crazy? “You expect me to walk like this?” His cock was so hard, it was painful to move, and if his pants kept rubbing against it, he might come before they could make it to a bed.

“You deserve it for making me wait all this time.”

“The fuck I do.”

“I was about to take care of that.” He waved his hand toward Marc’s crotch. “You’re the one who decided we should change venue.”

“I didn’t tell you to stop. I just wondered what it would be like to fuck in a bed. We could have a go here and then try out your bed, unless you’re too—”

“Don’t you fucking dare call me old.”

Marc laughed.

“Just for that, you’re walking to my apartment. Get your stuff right fucking now.”

Marc looked at the mess he had strewn around the room and groaned. When he started picking up fabric, Darius grabbed his arm. “Forget all that shit. You can clean that up in the morning. Just get your bag and fix your clothes so you don’t look like we’ve already fucked.”

“Someone else seems impatient too.”

Darius flipped him off.

Marc adjusted his shirt and ran a hand through his hair, but there was nothing to do about the bulge in his pants. It wasn’t going anywhere.

When they reached the street, he turned left like he would to go to his car, which was parked in the small lot behind the building. Darius grabbed his hand and tugged. “You’re going the wrong way.”

Strangely, once he was headed in the right direction, Darius didn’t let go of Marc’s hand. He would never have thought Darius would be a hand-holder, certainly not in public. It didn’t fit his fuck-’em-and-walk-away personality, but Marc was beginning to suspect that was a front.

His apartment was closer than Marc had expected, which was a good thing because walking along holding hands, horny as hell, was starting to feel awkward.

Darius practically shoved Marc into the elevator and hit the button for the fourth floor.

They stood side by side in the car, but they didn’t touch. Marc glanced at Darius a few times, but he stared straight ahead. Was he afraid if he looked at Marc, he’d rip his clothes off?

No one else was in the elevator. They could hit the button to stop it. Marc had always fantasized about doing that and…

Ding! The doors opened on Darius’s floor, and he stepped out. “Come on.”

When Darius unlocked the door to his apartment, Marc realized he’d been so wrapped up in lust that he hadn’t realized the enormity of the fact that he would get to see where Darius lived. Countless times, he’d wondered what Darius’s home would look like. Would it be perfectly clean like the front of the shop or an insane mess like the workroom? Would the colors be dark and brooding like his personality or bright and clean like his designs?