Chapter 21 #3
“Then get him to put her down.”
“Yeah, man, put her down,” Nash added. He’d slithered back over to the sofa, where he was rubbing various sore spots. Someone handed him another beer.
“It’s the game, Nash,” his friends soothed him, patting various bits of him.
“He’s fucking feeling my girlfriend’s arse up.”
Actually, he had a grip on the seat of her pants so that she didn’t nosedive into his groin. Or fall. One of the two.
Ronnie started poking him. Nash rose from the sofa again, but Balin and Lee dragged him back into his seat.
“Do you want to end up on your head?” he said to Jodi. She wound an arm around his thigh.
Ronnie poked him again.
“Jesus Christ, what are you doing woman?” Having anchored herself and obviously realised he wasn’t going to let her fall; she’d curled her fingers around the waistband of his leathers. A bit more wriggling, and she’d found his fly.
Do not. She was not going to unzip him. Fuck, she was.
Button slid, motion and gravity did for the zip—with a little help from internal pressure.
He did have his favourite goddess wriggling about in his arms, while undressing him.
Ronnie seizing on the situation, assisted his teammate by pulling Paul’s leathers down to his ankles.
Thankfully, he hadn’t gone commando today.
“You’re looking perky there, Paul,” Ash remarked. He pulled out his phone and took a picture of the three of them dancing about. “One for the band’s social media, me thinks.”
Paul swung around to scowl at him. “Post that at your peril, Mr Gore. My arse ends up on the internet, and—”
“Nobody’s arse is going on the internet.” Spook snatched Ash’s phone out of his hands and drummed him on the top of the head with it. “You can have it back when you’ve promised to be a good boy.”
“I liked you better when you didn’t fucking speak,” Ash moaned. “And I am never promising you I’ll be a good boy.”
“Now what’s your plan?” Paul asked an upside-down Jodi, who was still clinging to his thighs, and in increasing danger of slithering onto her face. He adjusted his grip on her arse, which did admittedly put his hand right over her crack, a place he’d like to visit in detail.
Behind him, Nash growled.
“What’s your plan, Castle? How are you getting out of this?”
“You could be a gent and put me down gently. Not on my head.”
He could. “And then what?”
“Which of us needs that card more?”
Fifty- fifty, he reckoned.
“Let me win, and I’ll give you a kiss.”
“Naughty, naughty… Are you trying to start a fight?”
“I’m negotiating.”
“And I’m right here,” Ronnie reminded them. “Also, with a sock still in this fight.”
“Forfeit and Paul will give you a kiss,” Jodi negotiated. He suspected the blood rushing to her head was addling her thought processes.
“He doesn’t want to kiss me. He thinks I give shit bro—”
“Bro,” Paul said loudly. “You can have a fucking kiss. Two if you shut your gob and take that sock off.”
“Two kisses,” Ronnie replied, a sly grin spreading across his chops. “One from each of you? Plus, I get to see pussy.”
“What the fuck?” Nash barked.
“They’re talking about cats,” Balin said to him.
“That’s right, isn’t it? You want to see my kitties?” Jodi asked still upside down.
Ronnie shrugged and put on his sweetest expression. “As long as there’s fur I can pet.”
“I’m going to strangle you in a moment,” Paul warned him.
“No need.” Ronnie sat back on his haunches and offered up a foot.
“What am I supposed to do with that?” He wasn’t allowed to use his hands, also he was using them to keep Jodi secure.
“Put your toes under my chin,” Jodi said.
Ronnie wedged his foot between her chin and Paul’s leg, then bottom-shuffled backwards so that the sock got left behind. “Oh, dear, looks like I’m out,” he said, collapsing into a star-shaped sprawl on his back.
“Good, make yourself useful and open the door.” Paul had decided the best option was the bed.
It’d still be awkward, but at least he could lower her onto a soft surface.
Only, he’d forgotten about the hogtie around his ankles.
He tripped. Did his best to twist, so as not to fall on her, hit the corner of the side table which sheared across his abs, before flipping over and landing on top of him.
Jodi was half under him still in his arms. There were voices all around him.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” he said, still dazed. “Castle?”
She kissed the inside of his leg, where the dragon wound around his thigh. “I’m fine.” She gave him a push, and he rolled as best he could onto his back, while she rose onto all fours, then about turned to look at him. “You okay?” she asked, a grin stretching her face, and eyes watering with mirth.
Gingerly he lifted his shirt.
“Fuck,” she mouthed, smile dissolving.
Paul looked down, but he couldn’t really see what she was staring at. His skin looked a bit pink in between the lines of ink. Jodi gently touched his skin and winced when he hissed a breath in through his teeth. “You’ve sustained one hell of a scrape. Reckon that ought to make you the winner.”
He shook his head. “I want my kiss.”
She bent over him and pressed her lips to his boo-boo. “There, all better.” She reached for his foot and tugged off the sock. “I win.”
“Void,” Spook declared. “No hands. Thems the rules.” He took the sock off Jodi and handed it to Luthor, then dropped the orange card on Paul’s chest. “Use it wisely my friend.” He winked.
Paul closed his eyes. In a minute or two, he’d move. He heard Jodi rise, and people moving around him. Apparently, it’d been universally decided to call it a night.
“You staying there?” Ash asked him.
“For a bit.”
“Blanket?”
“No, I’m good.”
It went quiet. He didn’t think he’d broken anything, except maybe the table, but his skin over his abs did knack. Someone—Ronnie? —sat down beside him.
“Not sure if it’ll help, but I got some stuff for your scrape.”
“Appreciate it.”
Ronnie set to work gently applying the cream. He paused once he’d finished, looking at Paul’s face. He hadn’t opened his eyes; he could just tell.
“Are you about to demand your kiss?”
Ronnie startled out of whatever contemplative daze he’d fallen into. “Not just yet. Thought I’d save it for another day.”
Whereas he’d prefer not to have it hanging over his head like the sword of Damocles.
He crunched into a seated position, which put him practically nose to nose with Ronnie.
Someone had dimmed all the lights, so that only the neon of the city outside illuminated the gloom.
Ronnie’s eyes shone in the dark. Paul cupped the guy’s cheek.
“There’s nowt wrong with your blowjob skills, Ron, but it was a one-time thing.
I feel like you’re fishing around for something more and it’s not going to happen. ”
“Because of her?”
“Because it was never gonna happen.”
“Not so sure that’s true.” Ronnie pressed into his touch. Then he extended his arms into a stretch above his head and flopped backwards onto the floor. Paul lay back down too. They were silent for a good long while.
“Ever wish that people didn’t get themselves wound into such major knots about sex?”
Paul didn’t have an answer as such, not without more context.
“I just mean, I think we’d all be a lot happier if we didn’t, you know? If it was okay to think, they’re hot and do them. And afterwards, you could just carry on with your life. It wouldn’t be awkward, and no one would have to adjust any other relationships they were part of unless they wanted to.”
“Humans are jealous by nature. It’s a survival thing.”
“Yeah, but I’m saying, if it wasn’t.”
“I know what you’re saying. Who would you shag first, Ronnie?”
He was quiet for far too long for his answer to be entirely honest. “Xane, probably. Reckon I’d work my way through the whole band, actually.”
“Is that a roundabout way of saying you want to shag me?”
“Figured you knew that already.”
“You kinda spelled it out when you waxed lyrical in the woods that night.”
“Is that why you’re being cagey around me?”
An awkward laugh rumbled in his throat. “Pretty sure you don’t actually want my metalwork rammed up your arse.
” Also, if he was going to be plundering anyone’s back passage, Ronnie’s rump was not the one foremost in his mind.
Nope, he’d take the very deliciously curvy, lady rump of his missus, thank you, and there was a vision to fuel his dreams.
When he woke, stiff and cold at four AM, Ronnie was curled around his lower limbs like a honeysuckle vine, and a thread of drool connected his lips with Paul’s big toe. He disentangled himself from the huggy monster, put him in bed, and then crashed out on the adjacent twin.