Cock and Balls (Handcuffs and Lace) by Mia Watts by Mia Watts Read Free Book Online

could he make those suggestions if he didn’t also think about them?
    Oh, God. I’m screwed , Hank realized. He never let his lovers have the upper hand. He never let them know he wanted more than a quick fuck and a goodnight kiss. But in the span of one minute and a few well-delivered comments, Monty had Hank’s number. Monty not only knew Hank wanted him, he knew Hank was stupid-in-lust with him. It freaked Hank out no small measure.
    Shit .
    * * * *
    Two hours later, Monty pulled his shirt off and picked up the oars again. A box of groceries separated them, and it was a good-damn thing too because Hank wanted nothing more than to lick every sweat-glistening muscle on display.
    What looked like lean muscle under a suit turned out to be tightly packed and corded abs, sculpted ribs and pecs, and angular oblique muscles forming a tight low vee into his pant line that had Hank squirming.
    He hated it. He also couldn’t tear his eyes away from the dark-haired agent who looked impossibly better mussed up and sweaty than he did in pressed uniform suits. The trade of expressionless agent on duty to relaxed man in his element only enhanced the quickly forming daydreams about getting naked with him.
    Hank had always had the upper hand when it came to men. How the hell had the tables flipped on him so quickly? He resolved to make a change. He didn’t like being subject to his baser instincts or the cloudiness of thought that seemed to have him thinking with his smaller head.
    Monty was a tough guy, a respectable guy, but if Hank didn’t stay on his toes and figure a way out of here, he’d be staring down the barrel of another four years with a father who couldn’t give a damn. He’d done that already. He didn’t think he should have to do it again. He certainly didn’t think that his dad should come away from the destruction of his family without a few scars.
    “Your staring,” Monty noted dryly.
    “You’re half naked and sitting directly in my line of sight,” Hank pointed out.
    “I’m not on the menu.”
    “Are you sure about that?”
    The skiff glided up to the dock. Monty tossed him the tie rope, and Hank looped it around the dock support. Monty lifted the box, with his shirt draped over the top, to the dock, then steadied the boat, one foot in, one foot on wood.
    Monty held a hand out to Hank. Hank hesitated a moment, then took it. He liked the hard calloused slide of the other man’s palm against his, the way his fingers wrapped like steel around his wrist and steadied him onto the dock.
    “I think you want to be on the menu, Monty. I think that’s why you’re teasing me.”
    Monty walked away from him with the box of goods. Hank took a minute to examine the fine ass and relaxed gait before he followed.
    “Is that what you want?” Monty asked when they got inside, and he’d put the groceries on the small counter. “Me?”
    “I’d take you if I had you.”
    Monty dropped his hands to his hips. “I don’t get taken.”
    “Is that your delicate way of saying you don’t bottom?”
    “It’s my direct way of saying that when it comes to sex, I’m in control whether I’m on top or on bottom.”
    Hank folded his arms across his chest. “Well now we’re getting somewhere.”
    “Are we?”
    “If we’re talking about sex, I’d say so,” Hank decided.
    “We’re talking about sex,” Monty sealed all doubt.
    Hank approached. “And if I won’t bottom or let you have control?”
    “I wouldn’t give you a choice.” Monty pushed away from the counter and stopped in front of Hank. “Your problem is that you’ve had everything handed to you on a platter, so when something doesn’t go your way, you think the world is ending.”
    “Your problem is that you make blanket judgments about things you have no business putting your nose into.”
    Monty’s hand curled around the nape of Hank’s neck and tugged him forward. “Do I?”
    Hank forgot what they were arguing about, so he decided to agree