“Y-you?” Large, hot hands shoved Seamus back down and started working out the kinks in his lower back with a skill that rivaled Connor’s.
Fuck me, that’s good.
He couldn’t let him know how good. Or that every time Bellamy touched him, the desire inside got sharper, stronger and more demanding. That he couldn’t think about anything else but…more. He wanted more.
“Maybe we should get Connor back in here,” he said, painfully aware of the arousal thickening his voice.
Bellamy’s chuckle was dark. “I know you warned me away from you the other night, but you don’t want to traumatize the boy, do you, gorgeous?”
“What do you mean?”
His response was close to a growl. “If you could have seen the way you were moaning and humping the table, you wouldn’t have to ask. Imagine friendly, easy-going and very straight Connor’s reaction if you’d climaxed from a simple massage.”
“Shit,” Seamus swore, trying to drag himself out of his relaxed stupor. “I didn’t mean to—”
“I, on the other hand, won’t mind seeing you let go at all.” Bellamy tugged the sheet down and slid his oiled hands beneath the cotton fabric of Seamus’s underwear to massage the curves of his ass. “May I?” he asked innocently.
Seamus stiffened, then moaned. “Maybe…you should stop, Bellamy.”
Bellamy’s hands froze in place. “Do you want me to?”
Now was the time to say Yes, I definitely want you to stop, to get up off this table and walk out. Why couldn’t he do that?
“No,” he whispered.
“Good. You need this as much as I need to touch you,” Bellamy murmured, “and I think you want me to be the one who gives it to you. Not Connor. Not Gillian. Not anyone else.”
Seamus lifted up on his elbows again and glared over his shoulder. “Are you really that arrogant, or is this just an act?”
Bellamy’s fingers dug into his ass and squeezed, the sensation unmistakably erotic. “You asked me to stay and watch another man touch you the way I wanted to. And I saw your face when you watched that video. It’s not arrogance if I’m right. You want me, and your reaction put me in a state I don’t like, but it’s one that I’m getting used to around you.”
Seamus couldn’t help himself. He glanced down and away, swallowing hard. He’d never seen another man’s erection before—well, not this close and never that erect. It was electrifying. Hard and long and...
Mouthwatering.
Bellamy is naked and aroused with his hands on my ass.
“We shouldn’t do this here,” he said breathlessly.
Anywhere. You were supposed to say we shouldn’t do this anywhere.
“Do what? Talk about me doing you a favor? I’m going to find your cousins, if that’s what you’re worried about. In return, you’re letting me practice my massage skills on your amazing but frightfully tense body. It’s a simple, innocent barter.”
Innocent, my ass. “Why are you willing to do this when I haven’t agreed to sleep with you?”
“You must be turning me into a masochist.” His underwear was nudged down to his thighs and Bellamy began a deep, sensual massage of his buttocks. “God, that’s a sweet ass, gorgeous. Does this feel good? Should I stop now?”
“Don’t stop.” It scared him how much he liked having Bellamy’s hands on him. It’s been a while since someone touched you like this, sexually or otherwise. That’s all this is.
An image of Bellamy pinning him down the way he had that wrestler in the video flashed behind his eyes and Seamus swallowed a strangled groan.
“What do you want, Seamus?” When Seamus couldn’t reply, Bellamy continued in a soothing tone, “There’s no pressure here, just an offer of pleasure. Would you like a deeper massage? A more intimate touch? Because I’d love to give you that.”
“You’re a tool of the devil,” Seamus grumbled without opening his eyes.
“Is that a yes?”
“Dammit, just do it. Nothing else, though.” Because at least then I can pretend this is just a massage.
“Only my hands, you mean? Yes, Seamus, I can do that.”
When those magic hands left his ass a minute later, he almost complained. But then Bellamy moved closer, leaning over his body to massage his shoulder blades.
Seamus flinched when he felt the wet tip of an erection press into his ribs, his mouth suddenly watering again. “Oh, Jesus.”
“I didn’t do that on purpose. You’ve seen how hard you make me,” Bellamy muttered. “Touching you is better than touching myself in my room, thinking of having you just like this. I could do this for hours.”
Maybe it was his imagination, but Seamus thought he could actually smell Bellamy’s arousal, could almost taste it, and the feel of those hard hands on his flesh… Christ, he hadn’t known it would feel like this, so hot and stark and vivid in his mind, in his senses. No one’s hands had ever felt this good.