the window. “Do you want promises?”
Countering the force of Rowan’s pin, he grabbed the center links of the harness and jerked. “Oh yeah, I want promises.” He closed the space between them, mouth meeting mouth. Teasing the seam of Rowan’s lips with his tongue, he tempted his way in and claimed his carnal, dark delicious kiss.
The snap on his jeans popped. Oh God. Brett reared back and hissed through his teeth. Rowan reached into the fly of his jeans and wrapped his fist around the swollen girth of Brett’s cock. He wanted both to savor the sensation of having a man grasp and stroke his shaft and at the same time, ached to shove his jeans past his hips, thrust like a wild fiend and reach orgasm as fast as he could. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the glass. “Don’t make me beg.”
“Would you? Beg?”
He lifted his gaze and stared into Rowan’s darkening green eyes. “Fuck, please.” He captured Rowan’s lips in a bruising kiss. Using lips, tongue and teeth, Brett ravaged Rowan’s mouth, sending electric pulses through every nerve in his body and pooling liquid heat in his groin. For him, nothing existed but this moment, this man. Tilting his head, he speared his tongue into Rowan’s mouth for another taste, savoring the flavor and texture.
Rowan’s hands roamed over him, stroking up his back and down to grasp his buttocks. He squeezed his ass and Brett clenched, knees weakening under the onslaught of erotic need.
Rowan pulled back and gasped for breath. His brows furrowed, his nostrils flared and his lips morphed into a feral sneer. He balled his hand into a fist and smacked it against the window. He glared at the crowd.
Brett turned, trying to see what Rowan saw when watching the men below. What made him pull away? Beneath them men had sex, were lost in passion and wild abandon.
“He’s down there…hoping I’m standing here at the window.” His voice grew quiet. “Knowing I’m standing here…with you.”
“Who?”
“Tac.”
“You’re thinking about your lover while you’re kissing me? Rowan, that’s fucked up.”
“I don’t want to.”
He grabbed onto Rowan’s biceps and spun him away from the window. “You don’t want to kiss me or you don’t want to think about him?”
Rowan gaped at him. “Do you really need to ask?” His voice held an edge of danger, it was almost volatile. “I’m not his lover, not like you think. It’s complicated.”
“You’ve mentioned that before.”
“Yeah, well nothing has changed in the last twenty-four hours.”
“Look, Rowan, I’m not into head games. A moment ago, I had my tongue in your mouth wishing it was my cock. I don’t want to sound crass, but we don’t know each other, don’t have to make excuses, and you certainly don’t have an obligation to be here if you’d rather be with Tac.”
He seemed confused by the words so Brett clarified. “I’m member 6489 and you’re the bartender I want to fuck. If you don’t want to be here, then leave. I can find someone else to suck my dick.”
“No.”
“Then get him out of your head.” He crossed to the rock wall and paced back to the window.
“I can’t!”
Brett raked his nails over his scalp. “I’m here with you tonight. If he is too, you might as well have brought him into the room with us. He’s here anyway.”
“I can’t explain and you wouldn’t believe me.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I knew what would happen before we walked into this room. I came in anyway.”
What in the hell was he saying? “I thought we both understood why we were here. You invited me to the club to fuck. That’s it.” Whether or not he wanted more than sex didn’t matter. He wasn’t ready for a relationship beyond a physical one.
“Yes and no.” Rowan moved to the chaise and sat. “Will you stop pacing?”
Brett smiled. This almost felt like their first argument. He couldn’t call it a lover’s spat since they weren’t lovers.