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

? His conscience wanted to know.
    “No emotional involvement?” Even as he said it, he knew the opposite would have to be true, and it scared the shit out of him.
    “It’s the one thing he actually wants that he needs: emotional involvement,” Monty realized.
    He wanted it from his father, lost it when he lost his mother, avoided it with the guys he picked up. The trick to getting Hank to crack was to make him feel. But how the hell did he do that with an emotional icicle without falling into his own trap?
    Back to dominance. Make him give it up without him realizing he’s giving it up.
    Monty’s dick throbbed. He leaned against the tree and opened his fly. He pretended those pretty gray eyes were still looking up at him as he took himself in hand. He imagined the same stripped, naked hunger he’d seen there, the same neediness of his open mouth, the same fixated stare from the boat trip that had traced every line of his chest. God, if that hadn’t been the hottest thing he’d ever seen—to know the other man wanted him without pretense.
    Monty came hard, shouting as his cum spurted over his fingers and into the air, Hank’s name on his lips.
    * * * *
    Hank spent the next two days speaking to Monty as little as possible. He hated the guy, and he wanted him with a passion that had his prick hard almost constantly. The guy didn’t do anything that didn’t scream of slow, hard sex.
    He chopped vegetables, and Hank found himself staring at the way he held the carrot. He tied knots in a trap by lamplight, and Hank imagined the same skillful detail coaxing him to arousal. He drank coffee, and the moan he gave at the first sip made Hank think of what he’d sound like as he got off.
    He couldn’t even sleep and get away from him. There was only one room, for fuck’s sake! They slept in the same room where they ate and sat. The only escape was the front porch or the dock, and Hank had been out there so much, he was sporting a light burn across his nose and cheeks.
    He’d never been in a position like this, where he’d been the one who wanted and couldn’t have. It sucked. He resented the attitude that he should be taken down a peg or two. Every time he thought he’d had the upper hand, Monty had snagged control right out from under him.
    Two could play that game, he decided. On the morning of the fourth day, the clouds outside kept the cabin dimmer than usual as a storm system seemed to be brewing. Monty had the weather radio down and tuned in as he took a sip of his coffee and made the soft sound of pleasure that had butterflies dancing in Hank’s stomach.
    Hank took his towel and headed for the shower. He cleaned the dried sweat from overnight, and welcomed the breeze starting to blow in through the tiny bathroom window. After brushing his teeth, he draped the towel around his shoulders and paraded into the cabin stark naked.
    Monty’s eyes followed him. Hank tried not to let on that he’d noticed. Instead, he opened the front door, propping it with a doorstop and hung his towel to dry on the porch railing before wandering back in.
    He poured himself some coffee and was stirring in the creamer when Monty finally cleared his throat.
    “Thinking of getting dressed this morning?” he asked Hank.
    Hank took a long, thought-filled sip of the hot beverage. He sighed as he lowered his cup. “Nope.”
    “Any particular reason?”
    “Why bother? It’s just the two of us out here, and you’ve made it very clear you aren’t interested. If I put on clothes, I’ll just sweat in them with this godforsaken humidity.” He shrugged casually. “I figure I’m saving myself the grief of smelly damp clothes and enjoying the freedom of life without the glare of media to see me.”
    “Good point.”
    “I thought so,” Hank agreed.
    He felt pretty smug about the decision too until Monty did something completely unexpected. He stripped out of his clothes too. Hank tried to swallow his latest sip of coffee but sputtered