Chapter 15

The front door was closed. About to ring the bell, a weak bark snagged Luca’s attention.

“Hello, boy.”

Spud, his tail wagging, ambled towards the rear of the farmhouse before stopping and looking back.

“Oh, do you want me to follow you?”

Spud answered with another small bark as Luca approached. Extending his hand, Luca allowed the old collie to give him a sniff, before the dog made his slow, stiff way, checking to make sure Luca was following.

“Hello?” Luca called, just outside the open back door.

“In here.”

Luca followed the voice through to the kitchen, where he found Adrian piling cheese between thick slices of bread.

“Doorstops,” Adrian said, without pausing or looking up. “No dainty finger food here.”

“I never doubted it.”

“Sit down.”

Luca pulled out a chair at the table, where they’d had their awkward, prickly meeting.

A plate was placed in front of him, followed by a pint glass and a jug of water, slices of lemon bobbing at the top. Sitting down opposite, Adrian filled their glasses.

Murmuring his thanks, Luca drank deep. “I needed that, thank you,” he said, setting the empty glass down.

Biting into his sandwich, Luca couldn’t help but moan his appreciation. Nutty sourdough, rich creamy butter, and the sharp tang of cheddar was a taste bomb exploding on his tongue. When had a simple sandwich tasted so damn good?

The sandwich, big and thick as it was, was gone in seconds.

Luca glanced up, and caught Adrian’s unapologetic gaze trained on him, his eyes slightly narrowed and as watchful as ever. A slow smile lifted the corners of Adrian’s mouth.

“Better, now?” Adrian asked quietly.

Luca nodded, his throat too thick to speak.

Adrian reached for the water jug, pulling his T-shirt loose from his jeans, exposing a band of tanned skin over taut muscles which were?—

Luca’s pulse quickened, thumping an urgent beat, as a thrill exploded in his chest. A glimpse of tattoo, bright and colourful. Tattoos… Of course a man like Adrian would have tattoos.

Adrian laughed, low and deep, dragging Luca’s gaze away from the tantalising ink. Adrian was smirking. Luca’s face heated. Of course the man was bloody well smirking.

“I went travelling, after university. Or, more accurately, once I’d ditched the godawful graduate trainee corporate job. I got it done in some back street parlour in Bangkok. God alone knows how I didn’t pick up an infection.”

“Never been tempted, myself.” In the quiet of the kitchen, his voice sounded too loud.

“Don’t blame you. I entertained big plans to make myself into a living, breathing work of art, but it was so bloody painful I soon binned that idea.”

“I’d better go.” Luca pushed himself up. Still thinking about bright ink on taut skin, his movements were clumsy and uncoordinated. The chair toppled backwards and crashed to the floor.

Adrian got to his feet. “Go? Are you sure that’s what you want?” He tilted his head to the side. Assessing, and as watchful as ever.

“I…” Yes. No.

Adrian moved around the table, his movements quick and fluid. With barely scant inches between them, the aroma of rich, warm earth, the salt tang of sweat and, underneath it all, the deep, masculine scent of musk, it was a potent and heady combination. Luca breathed in deep, powerless to stop, as Adrian stole away the gap.

“Or maybe you’d rather do this,” Adrian murmured, as his warm, strong hand found the back of Luca’s neck, easing him forward until their lips met. The pause was so tiny it was no more than a suggestion. It was Luca’s last chance. He closed his eyes, tired of the lies he was telling himself. His lips parted, and the world exploded.

Tongues twisted, hot and wet. Luca snaked his arms around Adrian, anchoring himself as he sought to deepen the kiss. Firm, confident hands gripped his backside, tugging him in closer. Luca moaned into their feverish kiss as his body plastered to Adrian’s, as he crushed his pulsing cock against Adrian’s solid shaft, desperate for nerve tingling friction.

Luca gasped, breaking the kiss, as Adrian’s hands somehow found their way past the tight running shorts, his hands warm as he kneaded and squeezed. Luca’s breath came in short, sharp bursts, as he met Adrian’s level, steady gaze.

“What do you want, Luca?” Adrian murmured as he laid a line of small, soft kisses along the side of Luca’s neck, along his jaw bone, up to his lips. “Tell me what you want.”

Luca shuddered as battened down need, want and frustration, and for the expert touch of not just any man, but this man, overcame all of his defences. Tell me what you want… Adrian’s question echoed through him.

This. He wanted this not to stop. He wanted to surrender himself, to plunge into the oblivion of raw sensation. He wanted to be stripped down, milked dry. He wanted to be sated. And as he pulled away from Adrian’s teasing kisses and gazed into eyes made dark with desire, his body screamed that he wanted it all from this man.

“Your mouth, on me.” Luca’s words were little more than a rasp, dragged across his arid throat.

Adrian’s eyes narrowed. Luca’s breath caught, and his cock throbbed, painfully tight. Adrian eased Luca’s shorts down, taking the briefs with them, and Luca hissed as they dragged across his swollen cock. Luca toed off his running shoes and kicked them aside, the shorts following.

Luca gasped as he was hitched up onto the table, the wood cool against his skin.

“Cold?” Adrian tilted his head to the side, his lips lifting in a smirk. “I’ll heat you up.” Easing Luca’s thighs apart, he stared down.

Luca’s cock bobbed against his lower stomach. Flushed, with a thick vein running its length, the head a shade darker, and shiny. Wetness glistened at the slit.

“Oh, Jesus,” Luca ground out as Adrian wrapped his palm around his length, tunnelling his fist as he stroked. Adrian’s hand, warm and firm, the skin of his palm rough and calloused, sent waves of pleasure vibrating through Luca as they rubbed against his so-sensitive-it-hurt cock. The air in the room seemed charged, every breath a little heavier than the one before, every glance loaded with promise.

“Adrian, please…”

“Please what, Luca?” Adrian bent forward, his whispering lips brushing Luca’s ear, as all the time he stroked, and stroked, and stroked, a slow, exquisite, painful torture. “What is it you”re pleading for, hmm?”

“Want your mouth,” Luca rasped, the words spilling out hot and urgent.

Adrian trailed the tip of his tongue along the curve of Luca’s ear. Luca shivered, the warm, wet touch jangling every one of his nerves, making him squirm and wriggle in painful delight. Adrian nipped at his earlobe, and Luca gasped as heat exploded along the length of his spine.

Adrian dropped to his knees.

Fighting for breath, Luca sucked hot lungfuls of air, as Adrian knelt between his legs. Their eyes locked together for a brief second before Adrian’s gaze dropped to Luca’s cock.

Unable to look away, Luca stared down. Adrian licked his lips, before slowly tracing the tip of his tongue over and around the hot, swollen head. Luca groaned; leaning back against the cool surface of the table, he arched into the touch, breathy, whimpering noises falling from his lips as Adrian took him into his mouth, sliding the length of him until the nervy, prickling head butted up against the soft-hard back of Adrian’s throat. A shiver ripped through him as he thrust upwards, craving more.

Adrian planted his hands on Luca’s hips, holding him still, as he pulled back, his lips sliding back up to Luca’s cock head, the wet sound of skin on skin as Adrian licked and sucked, and sucked some more, swirling his tongue around the head, teasing and taunting as he looked up, his eyes opaque and glazed, his lips red and swollen.

Luca trembled, his body thrumming. He was on fire from the inside out, and sweat beaded its way across his nerve laden skin. Adrian hummed against his cock, blasting shockwaves. Every touch, every lick and suck, every swipe of Adrian’s tongue left him gasping, wanting, pleading for more. The roughness of Adrian’s stubble against his thighs, the hot, wet suction of his lips around the sensitive, stretched skin of his cock, he wanted — needed — it all, as he moaned, writhing under Adrian’s expert touch.

“Fucking hell, Adrian,” he gasped, grabbing fistfuls of the other man’s hair, as pleasure surged through him. “Good, so fucking good,” he moaned, as Adrian bobbed his head harder, faster, the friction of his lips almost too much to bear.

Adrian’s hold on him fell away and, at last, Luca’s hips were free to piston into Adrian’s hot, slick mouth. Frantic for more, pushing deeper, wanting everything, their gasps and moans filled the air, mingling with the scent of sweat and sex. The sturdy wooden table creaked under the relentless rhythm. Luca gripped the edge, his spine arching, his head thrown back as his climax began to rise and race through him, too fast and too late to turn back. With a shuddering groan Luca squeezed his eyes shut, as a Milky Way of stars exploded in the blackness. His orgasm crashed through him, pulse after pulse, as he unravelled, coming undone in the wet heat of Adrian’s mouth.

Luca collapsed onto his back, a puppet whose strings had been cut. His chest heaved, chasing every breath as though it were his last. Sweat coated his body, and a bead tickled its way down the side of his face. Blood whooshed through his ears, its roar filling his head with white noise. It would be so easy to drift into the darkness…

“Fuck.” Adrian’s deep voice brought him back from the edge of the abyss.

Luca’s breath stuttered in his throat. The mid-afternoon sunlight streaming into the kitchen and soaking into his body seemed too bright and hot; the wooden table was hard under his back and arse; the rising cacophony of what had just happened deafening in his head, growing louder by the second.

Oh, Christ…

What had he given himself up to?

He pushed himself to sitting, supporting his upper body with shaky arms, wincing as he stared down at himself. Naked from the waist down, his cock lay flaccid against his thigh. A few steps away from the table, his shorts sat in a crumpled heap. He’d grab them, pull his running shoes back on, get back to the cottage as fast as he could… He placed his feet on the floor, and wobbled on unsteady legs. Just in time, he gripped the edge of the table.

“Hey, steady.”

Adrian, slumped on the floor, leapt up to hold him still. Pulling out a chair, he eased Luca down before retreating to the sink where he filled a glass with water.

“I think I should get dressed,” Luca mumbled.

“And I think you should drink this.” Adrian forced the water on him. “And don’t move, not until I’ve cleared up. There’s glass all over the floor, from where you knocked the jug and glasses when?—”

“Oh.” Luca tugged down his top, just about covering his naked crotch. “Can you, erm, pass me my shorts and trainers.” He nodded towards them, deliberately keeping himself from looking at Adrian. Mortification filled him from head to toe, his face pulsing both hot and cold.

“You know, you won’t turn into a pillar of salt if you look at me.” Adrian’s voice was edged with laughter as he stood before Luca, holding out the thrown aside clothes.

Gathering the courage to meet Adrian’s gaze, Luca glanced up. Adrian was smiling. It was shy, almost bashful, but it wasn’t his smile that caused something Luca couldn’t name or define to twist deep in his chest. Adrian’s eyes, so often guarded, hard, or mocking, gazed down at him with a warm, soft gentleness. Luca looked away, afraid of what Adrian might see in his own face.

“This isn’t something I make a habit of doing,” Luca mumbled as he pulled on his clothes. He tugged the laces on his trainers tight with fingers that felt like thumbs. It was suddenly, overwhelmingly, vitally important Adrian understood that he was… a little less spontaneous.

“On a kitchen table, do you mean? Or more generally?”

Luca’s gaze snapped up. Adrian’s expression was so deadpan, he might as well have been asking if Luca wanted a cup of tea. A tiny twitch at the edge of his lips gave him away. Luca dipped his head, worrying at his laces, as his own smile stole over his face.

“Look, do you want to get together again?”

Luca jumped at the question and sat up. Adrian rubbed at the back of his neck, his uncharacteristic awkwardness tamping down on Luca’s own.

“For another bout of tabletop sex, you mean?”

Adrian’s eyes widened, before he huffed. “It’s a very tempting offer, but I was thinking more for a drink. Or maybe dinner.”

“I…” The refusal, which was the only sensible, only possible answer, lodged in Luca’s throat.

“If you don’t want to, then that’s fine,” Adrian muttered, turning away.

“No.” Luca grabbed Adrian’s arm. “I mean, I’m not saying no.” What the hell am I saying… doing? But he knew, as his heart beat harder and faster. Handsome, dark, brooding, intense. Adrian Hardy was the antithesis of safe, nice, pleasant, and everything he should keep clear of.

“Then what are you saying?”

“I’m saying yes. But maybe not in Love’s Harbour?”

Adrian chuckled. “Definitely not Love’s Harbour. If the villagers can find something to gossip about they will, and I’ve never been partial to being a tasty morsel for them to chew over. But that’s small, tight knit communities for you. Shall I ring you? Or text?” Adrian added, a note of uncertainty in his voice as though he suspected Luca would change his mind.

“Yes. Please.” A date, he supposed… They were kind of doing things the wrong way around, but the idea of a date with Adrian Hardy brought an unexpected leap to his chest.

The crunch of tyres on gravel had them both jerking their heads towards the front of the farmhouse.

“Harry, back from making some deliveries,” Adrian said. “He’ll take the van through to the garage and then he’ll come in.”

“I’ll make a move, then.” Luca got up and made for the open door, in time to spot the van he’d seen earlier disappear into a small barn.

“I’ll give you a lift back. You’re probably tired.”

Luca snorted.

“From your run, I mean.” Laughter bubbled in his throat.

“No, it’s okay. But thanks. It’s a nice afternoon. It won’t take me too long to get back.”

Adrian looked as though he was about to argue, but instead he gave a short nod.

“I’m back. Boss?” Harry’s voice grew louder as he approached the open back door leading into the farmhouse’s kitchen.

“I’ll leave by the front,” Luca whispered. “Call me in the week.”

He dashed for the door, pausing to throw a quick glance over his shoulder before he fled. Adrian was leaning against the table. And smiling. Luca’s heart leapt, and he couldn’t help but smile back.