Dirty Dining (21 page)

“Yes, Brice, this is me. I’m not putting on an act.”

“Do you want to spend time with me, get to know me, and maybe progress to something more fulfilling for both of us?”

“You mean like….” Jeremy stopped and pressed his lips together. “What do you mean?”

“Like a real relationship, whatever
that
is. Not as your trick or a client. As your lover, unqualified, and maybe more.”

“You’re serious?” Jeremy suddenly looked so young again. Brice didn’t know how old he was. Maybe he should have asked before he jumped in with both feet.

Jeremy nodded, and Brice pulled him in close for a kiss. His cock reminded him he hadn’t come yet as it prodded Jeremy, stiffening as the kiss went on. Not such great timing, but every touch from Jeremy made Brice feel like he was seventeen again.

When they broke the kiss, their skin stuck together as they pulled away, and they both laughed, breaking the tension that had built up around their serious discussion.

“Since you cooked, it’s the least I can do to clean up. How big is your shower?”

A few minutes later, they embraced and kissed under warm massaging jets.

“I’m going to have bruises from that thing,” Jeremy said as he wrapped one hand around Brice’s cock. “Let’s start with this.”

He pushed Brice against the wall and slid down to his knees.

Everything else disappeared as Jeremy sucked at him. If he wasn’t a pro, he sure gave head like one, not that Brice would know. But his technique was so incredible, it must have taken a lot of practice to perfect. Dizzy from lack of oxygen, Brice reached back to steady himself against the wall and knocked the showerhead down from the clip. It swung back and forth, spraying Jeremy and leaving rivulets of water dripping down his face as he continued worked Brice’s cock.

“Just leave it,” Jeremy said around Brice’s dick.

“You sure?” Brice hoped like hell Jeremy didn’t want him to put the damn thing back right this moment.

Jeremy reached for the showerhead. “Can I try something?”

“Uh, I guess so.”

Jeremy took the length of Brice into his mouth again, tongue writhing against Brice’s most sensitive places. He’d learned well what Brice loved and was able to control when Brice would plunge over the cliff into orgasm.

Brice concentrated on Jeremy’s talented mouth. Then suddenly he felt a soft, warm spray between his legs, striking his perineum and asshole in the most incredible way. He let out a groan that echoed around the shower and the whole bathroom.

“You like?”

“Fuck, yeah. Oh yeah.” He couldn’t think. The pleasant warmth and pressure on his sensitive skin combined with Jeremy’s mouth on his cock, and he came hard and fast, like he’d been hit full force by a tidal wave of incredible pleasure. He rode, hoping it would never end. He gasped for air.

The sound of Jeremy choking brought Brice back to earth. He’d come down Jeremy’s throat, and he didn’t think he’d been very careful about it. Jeremy coughed and started breathing again.

“Oh God. Are you okay?” Brice fell to his knees beside Jeremy.

Jeremy nodded, holding his throat with one hand. He swallowed and began to pull air into his lungs. The color came back into his face. Then he smiled. “I couldn’t tell. Did you like that?”

“I thought maybe I’d died and gone to heaven.”

“Shut up.” Jeremy chuckled. “Help me up?”

Brice gladly pulled Jeremy to his feet and drew him close for a long, possessive kiss. He held on tightly, taking everything he could from the moment.

How on earth could he handle the day this would all go to hell and Jeremy would walk out of his life?

He glanced down into Jeremy’s eyes and saw his own strong emotions reflected there, and decided he wouldn’t worry about that just yet.

O
N
W
EDNESDAY
,
Jeremy rode in the back of the limo to the club for dinner, alone this time. He and Brice had spoken once on the phone for a brief, awkward conversation until one of Brice’s associates called him into a meeting he couldn’t duck out of. But since Brice had called him, Jeremy thought that was a good sign. Brice must not yet regret anything he’d said or done with Jeremy the previous weekend.

What would tonight be like? If his racing heart was any indication, he couldn’t wait to see Brice. If only he could calm himself down. By the time they arrived, he thought he had himself composed enough. But when he walked into the dressing room, he had second thoughts.

Kit came barreling up to him before he’d gotten ten feet inside.

“Look at you, all glowing! What did you do over the weekend? Dish, girl!”

A few of the other boys looked up expectantly.

“I, uh.” Was that judgment or disapproval on their faces? Not on Kit’s, at least. “Nothing.”

“You lie like a cheap rug. Whatever that means. I can tell something’s different about you. In a good way. In a very good way. You have been having some amazing”—he drew the word out into several extra syllables—“sex.”

Jeremy shook his head and stared at his feet. Was he so transparent?

“You do look a lot more relaxed than usual,” Law said over his shoulder as he applied some eyeliner.

“Mmm, mmm, mmm, mmm.” Kit ran a finger across Jeremy’s cheek. “Who is he?”

“He’s… no one.”

“So there is someone!” Kit just wouldn’t give up.

“I have to get ready, Kit.”

“To be continued, sweet potato pie!” Kit sashayed over to his own mirror as Jeremy’s mood took a major downturn.

He rushed to his mirror and wondered what Brice would like tonight? Should he paint his nipples? Use a butt plug? Better not. Kit was perceptive enough to notice if he did anything different for Hunter Green tonight. But as soon as he was alone with Brice, Jeremy would ask him what he’d like next time.

Thomas came in to hand out costumes. Tonight’s theme was sports night. Everyone got jockstraps and uniforms of various sports and wristbands color coded for their gentlemen. There was a box of sports gear for them to play with.

“Oh great. I love big balls night!” Kit announced as he grabbed a basketball from the box and bounced it a few times.

“The jokes just don’t stop all night. And we’ve heard them all.” Rand groaned.

“For some reason they think it’s carte blanche with
our
balls too,” Taylor said, cupping his sac. “I
hate
sports night!” He directed his comment to Thomas’s back.

“I heard that,” Thomas shouted back. “You don’t have to work tonight, Taylor.”

Taylor mumbled under his breath as he donned a tennis outfit with a tiny swinging skirt instead of the tight shorts everyone else had. He put his long hair in a ponytail and dug a tennis racquet out of the box. He shook it menacingly in Thomas’s direction.

Jeremy laughed as he put on his soccer uniform. Tiny white shorts—practically a staple for him—that rode up so much the straps across his ass were visible even if he didn’t bend over, a red-and-blue skintight jersey that made him feel more like Spiderman than David Beckham, and sheer, silky knee-high socks. He had to admit they looked good on his legs. He stepped into sport shoes and pulled a soccer ball out of the box. He’d played in high school, so he kicked the ball around the dressing room a few times till he got the hang of it again.

“You got some moves,” Law said. “Not bad.”

“Time to go, boys,” Thomas said from the hallway. “Do a couple of circuits playing with the balls. Toss them—”

“We know the drill, sergeant,” Kit said, fluffing Thomas’s hair as they filed out of the room. Thomas wasn’t deserving of a pastry name.

The gong sounded, and Kit pranced in wearing a version of a basketball uniform, bouncing the ball. They jogged around, tossing balls to each other or to the gentlemen. Jeremy came in dribbling his soccer ball, but he lost control of it as soon as Brice’s gaze locked on him. It was such a soft, sweet look it made Jeremy’s chest ache with joy to see.

“Oh sister, you are in for it.” Kit smashed into Jeremy from behind, and the gentlemen laughed, thinking it was part of the show. “You didn’t, did you?”

Jeremy didn’t say anything as he tried to retrieve his ball, which had rolled up against Brice’s chair. Brice leaned down to pick it up and smiled. Jeremy gave him a shy smile back and followed everyone else out of the room.

“You did!” Kit whispered loudly when they were back in the dressing room. “You better hope Thomas doesn’t see you and Green making schmoopy eyes at each other.”

“Schmoopy eyes?” Jeremy tried not to laugh, though the warning jarred him. “What will he do?”

“He might fire you. Or kick Green out of the club for violating the… policies.”

“Oh.”

“You better hope you do turn out to be Julia Roberts in this little show…. Or—”

“You two, get the first course!” Thomas snapped at Kit and Jeremy, and they raced into the kitchen and ended up last into the dining room. Kit usually wanted to go first, but he didn’t say anything about losing his prime spot.

The first course was melon with prosciutto. The chefs had gotten into the theme and, instead of the more traditional honeydew wedges, had made and wrapped individual melon balls with the thin cured ham. Jeremy settled next to Brice and offered him a ball, trying not to smile too much or make schmoopy eyes.

Brice took the morsel and Jeremy’s fingers into his mouth, giving the fingers a suck before letting go in order to chew. Having Brice suck his fingers got Jeremy instantly hard. The jock strap was tight. Maybe it would come off soon. If he asked, Brice would do that for him.

“Come sit on my lap, J—Remy.”

Jeremy sat across Brice’s lap and fed him another melon ball.

“That’s not what I meant.”

Jeremy stood up, and Brice put a hand on his ass, then slid it down his leg slowly before moving up again. Then he slid his finger under the ass strap. The touch was electrifying. Thank God he hadn’t gone for the butt plug. He’d be in big trouble now. As it was he could feel his cock poking out over the top of the jockstrap. The thing was so damn tiny, probably designed that way.

“You know what I’d like, Remy.”

Jeremy smiled and straddled Brice, the way he’d sat on Jeremy feeding him waffles just a few days earlier.

“You look a little warm, Remy.”

Understatement. Jeremy’s whole body was on fire.

“Let’s fix that.” Brice took hold of the hem of Jeremy’s jersey and started to peel it up, sliding his hands along Jeremy’s back and abs. When the shirt had Jeremy’s arms trapped over his head, Brice sucked on each of Jeremy’s nipples for a moment before he finally pulled the shirt off completely. “Cooler now?”

The air on Jeremy’s wet nipples made them peak, but the rest of his body was overheating. He couldn’t get enough air. Damn Brice for doing this to him during the first course. How would he last through four more? He bit his lower lip and fed more melon to Brice.

“Mmm. Delicious. Would you like one?” Brice fed some melon to Jeremy. His other hand explored the straps across Jeremy’s ass.

“You do know we’re supposed to be seducing you, and not the other way around? Sir.”

Brice nodded, a mischievous light dancing in his eyes.

Then the gong sounded, ending the course, and Jeremy had to force himself to get out of Brice’s lap.

In the hallway, Law came up to him. “What’s gotten into Mr. Green? I’ve never seen him play that hard, that fast.”

“More like what got into Remy,” Kit chimed in. He swiped a hand across Jeremy’s shorts. “Oh, and he’s that hard, that fast. Watching the two of you is like a spectator sport. We’re taking bets on which of you will come first and when.”

“I don’t think they’ll make it through another whole course,” Taylor said as they picked up the next dish, a salad of cherry tomatoes and bite-sized mozzarella balls. Jeremy shook his head at the sight of it. He noticed Thomas watching him closely as he entered the dining room. Did he suspect? What would happen if he discovered Brice and Jeremy had seen each other outside of the club?

The jokes kept up as they served the main dish, some kind of meatballs in a tomato sauce. No spaghetti.

“Are all the dishes going to be balls?” Jeremy asked, and everyone just laughed. It was going to be a long, hard evening, he thought as they marched back into the dining room.

During this course all but one of them was down to the jockstrap and accessories, except for Taylor, who was bare under the little white skirt. Just as he’d predicted, his gentleman couldn’t keep his hands off Taylor’s balls. They were sitting next to Brice and Jeremy, so he had a prime view of everything going on. Even Brice seemed enthralled by the way the man kept pulling at them.

“Does he think they’ll get longer if he tugs hard enough?” Brice whispered.

Jeremy shrugged and tried not to watch.

“You seem awfully interested in Taylor’s balls,” Jeremy said.

“Oh, am I? Are yours feeling neglected?” Brice teased. “Let’s remedy that.” He pulled the jockstrap until he could get a handful of Jeremy’s sac. It tickled. Jeremy squirmed, and a meatball rolled out of the dish and down Brice’s shirt and pants.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Br—Mr. Green.” Jeremy hopped off Brice’s lap, and the jockstrap slid off.

“Forget it. They have dry cleaning. Now come back here.”

Jeremy tried to pick up his jockstrap—he’d already lost his shorts during the course—but his erection made it difficult to bend down. When he straightened up, he felt the gazes of the other men in the room.

“Let’s see that boner, boy. C’mon!” one man called from the other side of the table.

Jeremy let Brice turn him around. For the first time since he started here, he felt self-conscious. He’d forgotten his arousal wasn’t a private thing between him and Brice when they were here. He put a good face on it and did a little twirl.

“He’s got a nice set of balls on him!” another man shouted. He’d had several drinks from the sound of it. “Hangin’ nice and low.”

Brice slid an arm around Jeremy’s waist, then reached down to cup his balls. “Not feeling left out now?”