8. Sebastian Courtland
8
SEBASTIAN COURTLAND
Opal’s, across the Ohio River in Northern Kentucky, was one of my favorite restaurants to hit when I was leaving the office. I’d secured a reservation— without Byron’s help —for a table on their patio, which provided an excellent view of downtown Cincinnati as the sun was setting. The food was also superb, and the vibe was classy but relaxed.
The only problem was that there was a slight chance of someone recognizing us, so I had to behave and keep my hands to myself. Byron and I had gone out plenty of times for meals during work hours, and we could easily say this was yet another working-late meal between colleagues.
Not that I wanted to talk about work.
Nor could my thoughts about him be described as professional.
“Nice choice,” Byron praised after the hostess left us with menus. “This has been on my list of places to try since it opened.”
There was no stopping my grin at his words. I might have even wiggled in my seat a bit, but I didn’t think he noticed, because his eyes were taking in the view.
God, he was sexy. A few strands of his dark-brown hair fell forward as he bent his head to peruse his menu. He tugged on his bottom lip with his teeth, and part of me wanted to steal that lip from him. Really show him how to take care of it properly with my teeth and my tongue. As I watched him, his pale skin was turning a rosy shade, and he stopped playing with his lip.
“You’re staring at me,” he mumbled without looking directly at me.
“I can’t help it. I can’t do it in the office because you sit too far away.”
Byron snorted and lifted his eyes to my face. “I suspect if my desk was next to yours, neither of us would get anything done during the day.”
I gasped, pressing one hand to my chest. “Are you saying that I would be a distraction?”
“An enormous one. You were the kid in school who couldn’t stop talking and drove the teacher crazy.”
A laugh jumped past my lips. It was almost scary how well he could read me—but then, that was part of his job and why he was so successful at it. Byron could anticipate my needs before I even realized what they were. The only thing I’d surprised him with was my attraction to him.
“How did your meeting go with Marsha?” he inquired, referring to my final meeting of the day with the marketing director for our home goods division. As I opened my mouth to answer, Byron’s face scrunched up, and he seemed to curse himself. “Sorry. You don’t want to talk about work now. This is supposed to be our time off.”
“It’s okay. Work is common ground for us,” I said. There was no way I could fault him. My first three ideas for conversation starters had all been about work. “I know you like to read nonfiction books about business. What about movies? What kind of movies are you into?”
Our server appeared a second later with a rundown of the specials. When she left, Byron offered a small smile and answered, “I don’t watch a lot of movies, but I am a fan of anything with a lot of action or drama. I’m not much into comedies, because most of them I find stupid rather than funny.”
“Sci-fi or fantasy?”
“Both.”
“Horror?”
His nose scrunched up slightly, and I wanted to run the tip of my finger along it. “More thriller than horror. Not much for the gore and slasher movies, though I do like the old Michael Meyers and Jason movies. What about you?”
“I’m like you. Prefer action over drama, and I will happily watch sci-fi and fantasy so long as they are well written. The only time I’ll watch a comedy is with my friends. Also, I love a good war documentary.”
“Ancient history,” Byron volunteered. I made a face that said I wasn’t following. He huffed a laugh and continued, “I like war documentaries too, but my favorite are the ones about ancient civilizations. I’ve seen dozens about ancient Egypt and the different dynasties of China.”
“So, grabbing some takeout and pulling up the PBS app for a documentary would be considered a good date to you?” I teased.
“Well…I don’t know.” The smile forming on his mouth looked so fucking kissable. He was lucky we were in public. “As the second date with someone? Not unless I know them fairly well and would feel comfortable in their house. If it were someone I’ve been dating for a while, then yes, I think that would be an excellent date.”
The server returned to take our orders. Thankfully, I was familiar with their menu, because I’d barely glanced at it since I sat down with Byron. Of course, he had all my attention. How could food be more important than his smirk or the laughter twinkling in his eyes? Impossible.
Except my stomach was grumbling, and lunch had been far too long ago. I needed food.
When Byron was finished, I picked something with red meat and handed over the menu, ready for the server to be gone so I could focus on my date.
“Sebastian…”
A shiver ran through me at the sound of my name on his tongue. After hearing an unsexy “sir” all day, my name falling from his lips was heaven.
“Your hand keeps inching closer to mine,” Byron observed.
My gaze darted across the table to where my right hand was resting, and he was correct. My fingers had inched closer to his while we talked about our movie preferences. It was just that his hand was sitting there, so tantalizing. It would take so little effort to slide my hand those last few inches to run the tips of my fingers down his, to thread our fingers together.
“I take it you like to hold hands,” Byron said.
I blinked at him. The spell he had me under was broken temporarily. “Actually, no.”
He chortled. “I don’t believe you.”
Who could blame him? “I’m serious. I have never been a fan of holding hands or even felt the desire to hold hands. Or rather, until you…I didn’t.” His brow furrowed. I hadn’t even noticed the difference. He’d had to call attention to it, but it was the truth.
“I’ve never been one of those cuddly, touchy-feely guys. There’s never been someone in my life that I wanted to curl up with, to hold their hand or keep my hand on their knee. In fact, I dated someone like that once, and we didn’t get more than two dates before I ended it. Every time we were together, I felt like I had zero personal space.”
“He made you feel claustrophobic,” he supplied.
“Yes!” I threw my hands up in the air. When I brought them back down, the fingers on my right hand brushed his. “But it’s different with you. I want to touch you constantly. There’s never enough.”
Byron gave his head a tiny shake. “Don’t you think it might be because it’s forbidden to touch me during the day? Maybe that’s your entire infatuation with me? It’s got nothing to do with me, per se, but just that you want something you’re not supposed to have.”
“Yes. And no. Yes, I think being around you all day but not allowed to touch makes me want to touch you more, but I’m not sure that’s going to disappear even if I could touch you all the time. You look very huggable.”
Byron’s entire body shook with suppressed laughter. “I do not. Every guy I’ve dated has said I’m all hard angles, like a triangle. There’s nothing huggable about me.”
“I can’t wait to prove them all wrong. Also, I don’t think the forbidden is linked to my infatuation. The day you came to interview at Courtland, I spotted you sitting in Fountain Square, reading over some papers as I was returning from lunch. I thought you were adorable then, and I think you’re adorable now.”
“You can’t help it, can you?” he asked.
“What?”
“Flirting.” The word drifted from his lips, and Byron’s fingers caressed mine. My entire body froze as I soaked in that phantom-light touch as it sent a spark along my arm and across my chest. “Every word out of your mouth is flirty.”
“Do you mind?”
Byron paused for a second, and I hung there like a worm speared on a hook, dangling above a fish as it debated whether to bite.
A heartbeat later, his smile widened, and his fingers threaded with mine. “No, I don’t. It’s been far too long since someone flirted with me.”
Oh yes, he was all mine.
“You know, you don’t have to walk me up to my apartment,” Byron said, his voice full of laughter.
I caught his hand as I joined him on the sidewalk after giving some instructions to my driver. “Of course I do. I’m your date, and it’s my responsibility to make sure that you arrive safely home. There’s no way I’d be able to sleep at night if I didn’t know for a fact that you’d made it inside your apartment unmolested.”
Byron grunted as he pulled open the door to his building. “You mean unmolested by any strangers. By my date? That’s an entirely different matter.”
“I like to believe that is negotiable.”
We held hands on the way up to his floor, and I loved every second of it. I’d loved our entire date. The food had been great, the conversation even better. Ground rules for our dating had come up briefly, but for now, we settled on not acting inappropriately in the office and no kissing in public. That did not rule out kissing in private locations.
As the night wore on, Byron relaxed more and more. At the office, he rarely made a witty quip or teasing remark, but when it was just the two of us after hours, he was full of snarky comments and jokes.
There was only one thing that was going to make this evening perfect—a kiss good night.
Byron knew what I wanted. I could tell by the smirk resting on his lips. But he was determined to make me beg and work for it. Just the idea of him teasing me like this had left me with a semi-hard cock pressing against the front of my underwear.
His apartment was right off the second-floor landing, which made our walk far too short. His keys and briefcase clutched in his left hand, he stuck out his right for me to shake. “Well, it has been a wonderful evening. Thank you so much for dinner.”
Instead of taking it, I placed my right hand on the doorjamb next to his head and leaned in. “Really? A handshake? When I know your kisses can scramble my brain?”
“I think you should hurry to your car. It’s been a long day for Carl, and I’m sure he’d like to get home to relax,” Byron replied, still holding out his hand.
“I told Carl to drive around the block for the next fifteen minutes.”
“Fifteen minutes, huh?”
“I didn’t think negotiating a good-night kiss with you would be a quick thing.”
I fully expected him to continue to argue with me, using up all of those fifteen minutes, but he didn’t.
Byron hooked his right hand across the nape of my neck while he rose on the tips of his toes. He didn’t kiss me. Those perfect lips grazed my cheek as he went in for my ear and whispered, “Fifteen minutes should be more than enough time for you to show me how good of a cocksucker you are.”
My semi went to raging hard-on in the blink of an eye. For a moment, I wondered if he was teasing me, but as he drew back, the fire in his eyes told the story of a man desperate to have his cock in my mouth, and I was more than happy to oblige.
“Inside. Now.”
Byron nodded and released me to swing around to his door. He fumbled with his keys, trying to get the right key into the hole. The keys hit the ground with a loud metallic clatter and Byron swore. When he bent to pick them up, he presented me with too tempting of an opportunity to pass up. I grabbed his hips, lined his ass up with my groin, and pressed my dick right into the seam of his cheeks. There . I wanted my cock nestled right there in all that heat before I slid into his tight little hole.
A soft whimper escaped him, and the keys hit the floor again. Byron remained bent over and wiggled his ass, fitting it even tighter against me.
My hands tightened on his hips. “In the apartment.”
“Yes,” Byron panted and pawed his way up the door. It took him two tries to get the damn thing open. The moment it stopped blocking our path, I moved with him, practically attached to his body.
The door slammed shut. Byron’s briefcase and keys hit the floor, and I shoved him back into the door as I seized his mouth in a good-night kiss to end all kisses.
God, he tasted and felt like heaven. How could it have been only yesterday since we’d last done this? If we continued in this fashion, I’d need to kiss him at least once an hour to survive.
Teeth clacked together as we ate at each other’s mouths. My hands were frantic, pulling at his clothes, searching for any bare patch of skin. Some part of my brain kept shouting, Hurry! Hurry! Before he comes to his senses!
Instead, Byron pulled on a lock of my hair as he tore his mouth away. “Be careful. Don’t rip anything. I can’t afford to replace any clothes you ruin.”
A grin spread on my tender lips and my hand tightened on his tie while still being cautious not to wrinkle it. “I’ll buy you a whole new wardrobe.”
Byron pulled my hair again. “No. I like my wardrobe. Be careful.”
Bossy Byron made me hard and stupid. All I could do was attack his mouth, wringing out more moans and needy noises. But my hands remained gentle as they pulled away his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. I dragged my mouth from his when I opened his collared shirt and pushed up his undershirt to reveal a pale chest with a light dusting of hair and lean, ropey muscles. Perfect skin. Warm and soft under my lips like velvet.
I kissed my way down, dropping to my knees as I licked across his stomach while my fingers fumbled with his belt. As soon as I got it unbuckled and his pants open, I shoved them aside to find he was wearing a pair of silky navy boxers with little white diamonds. His hard cock stretched out the front, pulling the waistband away from his stomach. There was even a small damp spot from the leaking head.
“Not what you were expecting?”
I stared up at him, admiring his flushed face, swollen lips, and sweat-slicked temples. “I think I’ve imagined you in everything and nothing. Not one fantasy could hold a candle to the reality.”
Loosely wrapping my fingers around his cock, I stroked him through the fabric of his boxers. He keened, arching his entire body into my touch so that his head thudded on the door.
“Is this your fantasy?” I asked as I pulled his boxers low enough for his dick to spring free. “Your boss on his knees, getting ready to suck your dick?”
Byron lifted a hand, and trembling fingers grazed my cheek. “More than just my boss. The sexiest man I’ve ever seen is about to suck my cock. I’ll be lucky to last more than a minute.”
That was fine with me. My dick was making demands, and I was in danger of coming in my pants like a fucking teenager if I didn’t get this shit under control. A quickie for our first time would mean I got to torture him for hours on our second date.
I stroked him slowly, loving the heat and silken weight of him in my hand. Fingers threaded through my messy hair and pulled slightly, creating tiny pinpricks of pain that urged me forward. With one last stroke, I took him in my mouth, but only the sensitive head. Holding him tight with my lips, I sucked him and played with his slit, using the tip of my tongue.
“Sebastian!” Byron howled. The needy sound echoed through the room. His hips punched forward, and his legs trembled. “Suck me. Suck my dick!”
With one last teasing lick, I took all of him. He cried out again in a mix of what sounded like relief and ecstasy. I almost gagged when he hit the back of my throat, but I recovered as I focused on creating that sweet, hot suction as I bobbed on his dick.
It was like a dam had broken inside of him, letting loose a flood of swearing and filthy talk that nearly sent me over the edge. I would never have guessed my tightly wound little assistant had such a mouth on him, and I loved it because that side of him was all mine.
He swelled on my tongue as he inched closer and closer to climax. My cock was leaking and throbbing in time with my racing heart. I opened my pants and shoved my hand in to wrap around the base of my dick, staving off my looming orgasm.
“Harder. God, Bastian. I’m close. Tell me you’re gonna swallow. Please swallow for me. Take it. Take it. Ahhhh! ”
He didn’t get the chance to finish what he was saying. Byron came hard and fast down my throat. I barely tasted any of him before I was reflexively swallowing it.
I licked every last drop from his cock and let him slide from my mouth. With a smirk, I tipped my head up to find the sexiest man leaning against the door with sweaty hair and a crooked grin, looking as if I’d just sucked all his brains out through the end of his dick.
“Hope you don’t mind,” I panted as I started to stroke myself off to the debauched sight of him.
Byron licked his lips. “Want me to return the favor?”
“Too close. It’s enough to have you watching.”
His smile grew a little more wicked. “Then lower you pants more so I’ve got a better view of the show.”
Why argue? He’d already had so many other brilliant ideas. I released my dick and shoved my pants and briefs away as much as I could so he could have a clear view of my cock.
“Fuck,” he groaned. “That is a thick dick. I should have told you to fuck me instead. You are going to break my ass with that thing, and I can’t wait. I want to ride you until I can’t move.” As he spoke, his hand dropped to fondle his softening cock.
I was on edge, but the images he was putting in my head as he stood over me with those hot, hungry eyes destroyed what restraint I had left. My orgasm ripped through me as if I were made of tissue paper. A shout tore from my throat, and I covered his floor in splatters of cum.
As soon as I finished, Byron dropped to his hands and knees and took my cock deep into his mouth. A moan of pleasure and pain tumbled from me as he sucked the last of my cum from me like my dick was a straw. My cock was so sensitive I wanted to stop him, but it was in Byron fucking Graham’s mouth, and I didn’t ever want that to end.
When he lifted his head a moment later, there was a smear of my cum on his bottom lip. I grabbed the back of his head and pulled him in close before licking it off and kissing the shit out of him.
Chirp.
Ring.
Buzz.
The little sounds broke through my bliss, and Byron huffed a breathless laugh.
“That’s your phone. Carl’s probably checking up on you.”
“Shit.” I tried to find my phone in my rumpled state of undress and nearly fell.
In the end, I had to stand, my knees aching and protesting, as I pulled up my pants and located where my phone had fallen. There were three messages from Carl as he’d become more worried about me.
Be down in five , I texted him.
Not that I wanted to leave, but sleeping over on the first date was a bit pushy. Plus, I didn’t think we’d both fit on his futon.
“Mind if I use your bathroom?”
“Go for it. You need it,” he said as he pointed to the one other door in the apartment.
“Such sass!” I teased, but he wasn’t wrong. My hair was standing up in every direction, my face was flushed, and my clothes were wrinkled and askew. I splashed some water on my face, trying to dispel the worst of the fog. His bathroom was tiny, but everything was neat. Not an unnecessary thing cluttering up the space and everything in its place. My head now clear, I ran my fingers through my hair and fixed my clothes. Byron had already changed from his suit to a pair of sweat pants and a T-shirt when I joined him. I strolled to him and loosely wrapped my arms around his waist.
“I wasn’t expecting that,” I murmured as I nuzzled his neck.
A low chuckle shook Byron as he cuddled me. “What? That I like sex?” He turned his face and pressed a soft kiss to the spot behind my ear and lowered his voice to a whisper. “I love sex.”
Yeah, I could believe that.
Byron loosened his hold on me so he could pull away enough and look me in the eye. “But I’m smart enough not to confuse sexual compatibility with being in a relationship. We can be hot as hell in bed, but be horrible together. I can enjoy getting fucked, but not want to be romantically involved with the person.”
“Agreed.” We had proved tonight that we were sexually compatible. No question. But what about the other? “Was this date good enough to earn me a second?”
He let out a near silent laugh and grinned. “You know it was. Let me recover from this one before you make plans.”
“Deal.”
I stole one last lingering kiss, wanting to savor every moment I could of finally having this man in my arms.
The memory of his laughter and his taste followed me all the way home. This was an excellent start.