“Darla.” He remembered her. He’d asked her to join him when he thought Tasha and Owen were both bringing dates along. He hadn’t wanted to be the odd man out. But they’d both come alone and Jeremy had been kicking himself until Darla had whispered a request in his ear. Apparently stadium restrooms turned her on.
“You saw that?”
Owen’s hands slid down Jeremy’s torso slowly, exploring and soothing. Arousing. “Heard it, mostly. Her. Shouting the same praise as your moaning, blond party boy. She was narrating well enough for me to get a good visual.”
Shit. He didn’t know what to say to that. Couldn’t really think with those hands on his skin.
Owen chuckled, tracing Jeremy’s hipbones, avoiding his unavoidable erection. “It—inspired me to new creative heights with my next date. And it made me wonder, the same way I did after Tasha’s party. Now I know for a fact that your reputation is well-deserved.” He paused, as if he were going to say more but changed his mind. “I know you said you’re not a catcher—I love that term—but there’s something I want you to tell me, and be honest. You have at least one butt plug around here somewhere, don’t you? One you use on yourself when no one else is around?”
Jeremy’s eyes widened and he felt his lips part in surprise.
“You do. See? I knew it.” Owen patted his hip in approval. “You might only use it when you’re alone, but you have it. Is it in a drawer by the bed? That’s where I’d keep it. For those nights when I need to get off and don’t have someone to impress with my Maori-esque endurance and my big fat cock. Those nights I just want to feel well and truly taken for a change.”
He had to hand it to Owen. When he decided to do something, to try something new, he never did it halfway. He was a clever and seductive son of a bitch, seeming to know Jeremy’s darker desires in a way no one else could. Had he learned that trick at his club? And all the touching. God, had anyone ever just touched him like this? Explored him without him being able to return the favor and distract them so they could both get what they really wanted? Jeremy was too turned on to lie. “By the bed. Second drawer.”
No. Don’t give in to him. Not on this. You don’t let anyone do this.
But it was too late.
Owen reached behind him and gripped the knot at his wrist. “Then let’s take you over to the bed.”
Jeremy followed him—as if he had a choice—and watched Owen drag the pillows to the side of the bed and place one on top of the other before turning to open the first drawer.
“Hello.” There was a smile in Owen’s voice. “I’m guessing these are here for company? For the partners you bring home who wouldn’t dare to tie you up?”
Jeremy’s face was hot. “I told you it was in the second drawer.”
“I know. You’re not the guy that puts his own needs first, are you, Jeremy? You hide them underneath all these dirty distractions.”
He closed it, thankfully, opening up the second drawer and whistling. “This is a ridged thing of beauty. Not too big but definitely not too small. I think I might need to get one for myself.”
His body shuddered at Owen’s words. If he wanted it, Jeremy would stretch his ass with a plug every fucking night until he was ready to take him.
Owen noticed his reaction. “You like that idea, but this isn’t about my ass right now. It’s about yours. Are you going to tell me to stop?”
“No,” he whispered.
“Good boy. Assume the position.”
Jeremy glared at him but let Owen lower him to the bed so that his chest was supported by, and balanced on, the pillows, his arms bound and his ass in the air. He’d never felt more naked or vulnerable.
“I can’t lie, Jeremy. I’m loving this.” Jeremy felt Owen’s hands on his ass again, fingers digging in slightly, as if he couldn’t resist. “You want more honesty? Your ass is a thing of Goddamn beauty too. With those tattoos and all that rippling muscle? It’s fuckable art. And you tied up like this, ready for me to fill you with your favorite plug?” He squeezed harder, making Jeremy grit his teeth. “It’s damn hot. Try to relax now. I’ve done this before. Not with a man, but I think I still understand the mechanics.”
“I trust you.” Even now, when he was questioning his own sanity and everything that had happened since he opened the door, he knew he could trust Owen with his body. “I…this isn’t something I let someone do to me as a rule. But I trust you.”
Owen brushed his hands lightly over Jeremy’s hips, as if in praise. “Thank you.”