Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
JEREMY
JANUARY
It’s almost February, and the pub is done-done. I’m headed in for the final walk-through. A photographer with The Seattle Times is coming by today to take some photos, and I need to make sure everything is perfect.
I pull Peter to the curb and lock him up before walking to the pub. Just as I open the door, Marcus’s large hand wraps around my wrist and tugs me into the building.
“What the hell, big guy?” I say with a laugh.
But he cuts me off when he slings me against the wall and kisses me breathless.
I bring my hands up, running my fingers through his hair.
Our mouths move together, the kiss becoming sloppy, and Marcus ruts his jeans-clad cock against mine, causing me to whimper loudly. Finally, he pulls away, panting hard.
“Sorry,” he mutters against my lips. “I just needed to do that before we have to be professional all day.”
“Perfect,” I whisper. “I’ve always wanted to do a walk-through with fucking blue balls.” I tuck my aching cock into my waistband just as Tristan ambles down the stairs with a clipboard.
He looks up and raises an eyebrow. “If you guys are about to fuck, you’d better make it quick because the photographer is going to be early.”
Marcus flushes bright red, and he scowls at Tris. “Can we just get this over with?”
Tris goes to work with his checklist. We peruse the entire space, from the dining room to the kitchen to the bathrooms, making note of any last-minute details that we need to take care of.
I adjust some of the art and rearrange a few items on the fireplace mantle, fussing over the aesthetic.
“Your attention to detail is sexy,” Marcus whispers as he sidles up to me, his hand brushing the small of my back. He nods to a space at the end of the mantle. “But you missed a spot.”
I shake my head with a secretive smirk. “That piece hasn’t come in yet.”
“Yeah? Color me intrigued.”
Tristan drops his clipboard onto the bar with a loud clatter and looks over at us brightly. “That’s it then, right? We’re done?”
Marcus nods thoughtfully. “Other than hiring some waitstaff and a few others . . .”
While Marcus and Tris start discussing résumés, I wander over to the big window. The wind picked up this afternoon, promising a winter storm, and Elliott Bay is a turbulent gray, white caps dotting the roiling surface.
The Seattle Times photographer, a lovely man with a mustache named Arthur, arrives and has a blast snapping pictures of Marcus and Tristan and the pub’s interior.
“This is such a warm space,” he gushes, his fingers sliding over the wavy patterns on one of the tabletops. “It has the charm of a swanky restaurant with the feel of a homey sports bar. Truly, well done.”
Marcus smiles widely. “That’s all Jeremy. He’s very talented.”
“I’ll say,” Arthur says, gazing around before his eyes come to me. “Do you work for a design firm?”
“Oh no,” I say, flushing under his scrutiny. “I’m freelancing until I can open my own firm.”
Arthur’s eyes light up. “I also photograph for GRAY Magazine. Have you heard of them? I think you’d make a great feature as an up-and-coming designer.”
A spark of excitement races through my stomach. “Really?”
“Of course. Give me your contact information, and I’ll show the editor these photos and introduce you.”
With the excitement of a kid on Christmas morning, I scramble over to my messenger bag and pull out a business card, almost dropping it in my eagerness to hand it over. He gives me a nod and a kind smile, then turns back to Marcus, who looks so fucking proud, and I preen.
“Will your brother be around soon?” Arthur asks, pocketing the card. “I’d like a photo of the both of you. I can come by again.”
Marcus is still staring at me, his expression so affectionate that it’s making my blood sing.
Tris rolls his eyes and elbows him, and Marcus looks over at Arthur apologetically.
“Huh? Oh, yes, of course. He has his hands full running our location in Vancouver, but I’m sure he can carve out some time. ”
“Perfect! Then, I’ll be in touch. It was so nice to meet all of you.”
When Arthur is out the door, Tris starts to gather his belongings. “I’d stay for a drink, but my gran needs a ride home from strip poker night.”
“That’s okay, Tris.” Marcus gives me a hungry look. “Jeremy and I have plans.”
“We do?”
“We definitely do.”
Tris glances between us while he pulls on his coat. “Okay, then. Have fun!”
When the door closes, I turn to Marcus. “I feel like Tristan’s gran might be the world’s most interesting old lady.”
“Absolutely.” Marcus grins. “I suggested making her our event coordinator, but Tris said she’s too cheeky. He literally used the phrase ‘full of piss and vinegar.’”
I laugh, and Marcus gives me that affectionate look again. We stare at each other for a beat, and I wonder if he feels the way the air shifts around us. “So we have plans?” I ask, clearing my throat.
He nods, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “C’mon, we need to be quick. I told Seb I’d FaceTime him after the walk-through.”
The large stone fireplace in the corner is blazing, casting dancing orange light around the room. Outside, gusts of wind rattle the windows with icy blasts, but here, inside, it feels safe and cozy.
He yanks me toward the big window. “There’s something I’ve been dying to do since you started working on this project.”
“What’s that?” I ask as he backs me up to the window overlooking the water.
“Fuck you against this glass.”
“Oh my God,” I whimper as he turns me and pushes me against the window. He reaches around and unbuttons my pants, yanking them down my thighs with my boxers. My cock springs free, and I shiver when it presses against the cool surface, smearing precum on the glass.
Even though the balcony hides us from the street below, I still feel so exposed doing something so intimate where it feels like anyone could see. I hear the sound of a zipper as Marcus removes his own clothes, and in the reflection, I see him pumping his cock while he eyes me.
“God, you’re sexy right now. Bend over, beautiful,” he rumbles. “Show me your pretty pink hole.”
I swallow and press my ass toward him. We haven’t fucked since the night he left in December, so I’m sure he means to finger-fuck me, but when I feel something cold run between my ass cheeks, I realize that he came prepared. With lube.
I curse and push back against Marcus’s hand as he slathers liquid over my hole, rimming me with his fingers until I’m impossibly slick. Then I feel him line up the fat crown of his cock.
“Ready for me, baby boy? I’m not going to be gentle.”
I’m quivering with anticipation. “Please, fuck me hard. I need you inside me before I explode.”
He pushes into me, his cock stretching me as his tip breaches my body, and he gives a shallow thrust, his forehead falling to the back of my shoulder with a content sigh. He pushes in farther, and the burn and the stretch meld together, making my swollen cock ache.
He holds himself deep, grazing my prostate, and I let out a hiss and reach for myself, but Marcus grabs my hand.
“We’re doing this hands-free tonight. I want to make you come from my cock alone.”
“Fuck.” Just his filthy words are making me so horny I might die. I squirm on his dick. “Then fuck me already.”
“Such a needy little slut, aren’t you?”
I nod frantically and push back again, but a sharp slap on my ass stops me. I cry out, pleasure and pain coursing through me like a fucking electric current.
“Be still,” he growls, and I nod frantically.
“Just please move,” I whisper. “I need to come.”
He pulls back and thrusts inside me, bottoming out as the coarse pubic hair on his pelvis meets my ass. Then he really starts to fuck me, his hips pistoning in and out, the only sounds my fingertips squeaking against the glass, our animalistic grunts, and the wet slap of skin on skin.
The head of his cock prods my prostate every time, milking it as I get closer and closer until I’m beyond blitzed out from the pleasure. I’ve never been able to come hands-free before, but Marcus is squeezing this orgasm out of me with embarrassing ease.
“I’m so close,” I pant.
He grabs my throat, tipping my head back, and leans close to my ear, his voice low and commanding. “Come for me, Jer.”
And I do, my release barreling through me, stripe after stripe of cum spraying the window.
It feels like I unload forever, and my name on his lips tells me he’s there with me, his pounding becoming more frenzied as he unloads inside my body, his cum a flood of warmth that triggers another mini-orgasm.
“Holy fuck,” I pant as I come down from the release.
Marcus is breathing just as heavily, his hands pressed against the glass on either side of my shoulders. He pulls out of me, and I feel the loss potently.
But before I even think of getting dressed, Marcus nudges his thumb back into my hole, pushing his jizz back into my body before it can drip down my legs.
So hot.
But I complain anyway because it’s what I do. “Are you really about to make me ride home with your cum in my ass?”
He smirks. “Don’t act like you don’t like it, brat.” Then he pulls up my boxer briefs and nips the side of my neck. “Keep that there, so we won’t need lube later.” Goosebumps sheet my whole body at that thought.
We stand, and Marcus tucks away his softened cock and zips up his pants. He rubs the back of his neck, staring at the white streaks on the glass. “Guess I should clean that up.”
I roll my eyes. “You think?”
Marcus gives me a dark look. “Put a lid on the sass or I’ll spank you again.”
“Promise?” I ask hopefully, batting my eyelashes.
“Jesus.” He adjusts his cock, which already seems to be rebounding. “You’re going to literally kill me.”
I glance up as I finish buttoning my jeans and straighten my sweater, frowning at a damp spot of cum on the sleeve. “Are you sure I can’t stay while you FaceTime your brother?” I grab my bag and coat, and we start to walk down the hallway.
Marcus opens the door for me, a reluctant look on his face. “I’m not ready yet. Next month you can meet my whole family, okay?” He scrunches his nose in a charming way. “Plus, Seb wants to talk about an insurance claim.”
“Oh? Did something happen in Vancouver?”
“Good ol’ fashioned bar brawl, from what I hear,” he growls.
“You’re sexy when you’re angry.” I glance around. When I don’t see anyone, I lean in and kiss him quickly. “See you tonight.”
“I can’t wait,” he mumbles against my lips, but he jumps back when two couples round the corner. He gives me a guilty look and closes the door.