“You started to say something?”
Huskiness layered Geoffrey’s voice as he shifted and leaned against the door jamb. That damn towel slipped just a bit lower and all the moisture fled Sven’s mouth before pouring back in like a flood. He swallowed, ashamed of himself because he was literally salivating over Geoffrey—a man who’d hired him for protection.
One who worked out.
A lot.
He forced his gaze off him and it landed on the giant mirror next to his equally large bed. A bed he’d easily fit on comfortably. He could situate them sideways on the bed and prop his head up high on all those pillows—high enough to see both Geoffrey’s front and his back in the mirror while he sat astride him.
“You okay, Sven?”
Holy hell, he had passed stupid into outright brainless because he could not get that image out of his head no matter what he tried to think about. He stared at the ugly art over the bed and tried to decide if the shapes were supposed to be giant leaves or decorative salad bowls.
They could get rowdy enough in here to knock those off the wall.
Fuck.
“Fine,” Geoffrey murmured, straightening up off the door and waving his arms in that spastic and completely adorable way of his. “I’ll keep the windows in here covered, okay? I usually do. You don’t have to play stoic member of the queen’s guard anymore. You can go.” A wicked twinkle filled his eyes as he turned away and casually dropped the towel. “I need to brush my teeth anyway.”
And Sven could not look away from that perfect ass no matter how hard he tried. He didn’t even blink until the door to the closet closed. Or, the dressing closet, as Geoffrey called it. His master bath lay on the other side.
Muscles tense and breathing labored, Sven walked back to the guest room in a daze. The second he closed the door behind him, his hand was pressing on the front of his pants. He knew Geoffrey had seen how hard his dick had grown—those blue eyes had locked on it right before he’d dropped the towel.
There was a sultriness to the man that made Sven’s teeth ache, a sensual nature outfitted in a compact, lissome body Sven wanted to explore so badly, he’d had to close his hands into fists so he didn’t reach out. He rubbed his cock through the fabric as he turned on the hot water in the shower.
Stepping inside, he let the water wash down over his aching muscles. The morning’s workout followed by self-defense classes hadn’t been too bad, but spending hours with Geoffrey had left him on edge so that he’d passed the majority of the day tense. But as the tautness started to ebb, images of Geoffrey smiling and shirtless danced through his head.
Groaning, he forced his brain back to thoughts of Charlie and that horrible day in Michigan. The taunting chants of the other kids. The shoving and bitter bite of the winter wind across the school yard. Anger pushed against the cold and then he was fighting back. A splash of blood. Kids shouting and scattering in panic.
Sven tried to tighten his grip on that memory. Charlie was the reason he sought out men his own size. People he didn’t have to worry about hurting if his hard-won control slipped for even a second.
Soaping up his hands, he started to roughly scrub away the day’s stress and sweat when his traitorous mind conjured up an image of Geoffrey smirking and shaking his head, shoving away Charlie and his hatred. Shoving away any thoughts that weren’t of him.
And Sven let him.
That small, perfect ass stayed in the forefront of his mind as he braced one hand on the wall and wrapped the other soap-covered hand around his cock, stroking himself. Hard. He punched his hips forward, tightening his fingers and imagining what it would be like to finally give in and touch the man who’d been teasing him for months. He’d shut that sassy mouth with his lips and his tongue and he’d hold him down…fuck deep into his body.
His hand moved faster and faster as he imagined the needy sounds that would come from that hot-as-fuck mouth. And with the thought of those full, pouty lips, his imagination switched and he was sprawled on that big ottoman in the living room, legs spread with Geoffrey kneeling between them. Those lips would look so goddamn beautiful wrapping his cock. Geoffrey would use his tongue and those quick hands would touch his thighs, stroke his belly, slip down to cup his balls.
He wondered how far Geoffrey could take a man down his throat. No, not any man. Him. He wanted to know how that mouth would feel so badly, he slowed down his strokes, long and firm slides as his head tilted back and his lips fell open.