Discovering Dalton (Manchester Menage Collection #2) (12 page)

“I don’t.”

Liam’s growly chuckle made him get closer for some unknown reason. “Don’t worry, Dee. Come, Baby. I’ll just get you hard again.”

Dalton shook his head, not wanting to look stupid in front of him. He was already feeling slightly emasculated by his cock being smaller than Liam's. Coming quickly wasn’t going to happen if he could help it.

He moved in time with Liam’s hand, never lifting his gaze from Liam’s cock. Dalton took in every tiny detail about him, watching how he leaked and stiffened, how his balls lifted, how his body arched into his own touch. This is what had driven Dalton wild when he saw him in the shower. Liam looked lost and open, leaning his body back, thrusting his hips into his fist. Liam’s other hand left his balls, covering his length, fucking into both clenched fists as he moaned erotically above Dalton.

Christ, the image of this powerful man above him, so hot and turned on, so lost in his passion, it made Dalton shout out his name. Liam’s eyes found Dalton’s as he pounded his cock into those tight fists.

Dalton had never been so affected by anything or anyone. He was stunned by how much he needed to touch Liam. He could reach up, touch his chest, slipping the t-shirt from his body. He looked into Liam’s eyes, seeking approval as his hand hovered by his stomach.

“It’s okay,” Liam panted out.

“I want to see you.”

Liam released his cock, pulling the t-shirt from his body and smiling down at him. “Better?”

Dalton nodded. “Yeah.” He ran his palm up the ridges cut into Liam’s big body.

Every muscle was on show, firm and full, tense and hard, like he was cut from steel. He’d spent so long looking at this Adonis, to touch him, to feel what he’d been thinking about—it made him ache everywhere, not just his cock, but every single cell in him lit up and burned brighter than the sun.

“Fuck!” Both of his hands were on Liam, searching out every line, every bit of flesh, every curve. He needed more hands, he wanted to touch everywhere at once, to devour Liam’s body.

“Dalton!” Liam arched his back, thrusting his hips faster, his whole body growing stiffer.

“You’re so beautiful.” Dalton grabbed Liam’s hips, watching as he rode those fists harder. “Liam. Shit! I want you so fucking much.”

“Dalton!” Liam shot over Dalton’s chest.

Dalton’s cock gave up the fight and joined him at the same time, untouched and totally unexpected. Dalton cried out, watching jets of cum rip over his stomach, both his and Liam’s meeting over his skin, his balls aching and his cock jerking on his stomach, pumping out another shot.

Liam fell forwards, crashing their dirty wet flesh together and panting against his shoulder. “Dee,” he whispered gently against Dalton’s hot flesh, kissing his neck, then sucking lightly. “Baby, you're gonna kill me.”

“Good thing? Bad thing?” Dalton smiled against his shoulder.

“Good things, Dee. Really fucking good.” Liam rolled off him, somehow both of them lying side by side, legs intertwined, heads pressed together. Sticky and hot, both breathing too hard and still wanting more, Dalton closed his eyes, letting Liam run his fingers through the mess of cum on his stomach, working his fingertip around Dalton’s chest, Liam’s palm soon took over with a rougher feel to it—more demanding than tender. “I'm proud of this body.”

“Me too, though sometimes I don’t believe it’s mine. I still wear clothes which are massive, thinking I have to hide under them.”

“You don’t ever have to hide, Dalton. Even when you first came to me all those months ago, you were beautiful. Those eyes, Baby, they do mad things to my mind. You’ve always been handsome, you're just cut now.” They fell silent for a few moments, then Liam lifted his head and looked into his eyes. “You know like I keep pushing you to get bigger?”

“Yeah.” Dalton waited for it to come, how he didn’t try hard enough, blah, blah.

“Don’t. You’re perfect. Every inch of this body is fucking beautiful.”

Dalton grinned. “You sure?”

“Oh, yeah. Not that I don’t think I should take more time to explore it in greater detail, but, Babe, you're fucking fine.”

“You’re not too bad yourself.” Dalton laughed at the raised brow he got. “You know how good you look, Liam. I can barely look at you for long periods of time because I worry my retinas will be permanently damaged. I can't take my eyes off you. You're all I ever see in that gym. You. This body, your big gob mouthing off at me.”

“Hey, this big gob can be pretty damn useful, you know?”

“Oh, yeah?” Dalton chuckled. “How’s that?”

“I’ll have to show you sometime.”

“Hmm, does it keep you quiet?”

“Nah, I like to moan when I have a cock in my mouth.” Liam laughed before he kissed Dalton. “Fancy a shower?”

Dalton paused. “That’s what started all this in the first place. I'm thinking possibly not. If I get in there, I may not get out.”

“You’ll get off.”

“I've not come in months before today. I need to work up to that third one in a row thingy.”

“Meet me again. Here or my place. There's just my brother and me. He won’t judge.”

“No, I'm not ready. I just…”

“Meet me here. Monday night?”

“Okay. Monday.”

Dalton and Liam separated, things slightly awkward now Dalton was dressed and reliving what they just did on the sofa. With his face burning up and his body still in shock over how it responded to Liam, he shared a coy look, hardly being able to meet his eyes, wondering how they would part ways. Dalton wasn’t sure how to deal with a person you just had random wild sex with, and he pondered at the doorway, knowing a handshake was all wrong but a kiss was too much, so he went with a pat on the shoulder and quickly ran off, leaving Liam chuckling to himself at the door.

Chapter
13

T
roy looked over to Liam, watching him sit astride his pride and joy, his bike. A Triumph which he treated like his own child. He was gazing off into the distance as they took a break. Liam wasn’t usually this thoughtful. He didn’t think, he talked. Always an open book, he never left you guessing what was going on in his head because he spilled the truth out like a child. Okay, so he didn’t talk to many people like he talked to Troy, but there they were, alone, not a person for miles, and he was tight lipped.

“You're doing a lot of thinking up in that brain of yours. Be careful, it may overload and blow up.” Troy threw a sly smile at Liam, finally getting a grin back. “What’s up? You’ve been funky since Thursday evening.”

It didn’t take a genius to suss out Liam had been with someone. He’d done well to abstain from pulling someone the week before when they went out. Troy was surprised when Liam found him in the bar and suggested an early night. That wasn’t his style and Troy had been picking at him, hoping he’d break and spill his guts about what bothered him, but he still hadn't spoken about it. It couldn’t be a man getting under his skin, that didn’t happen.

“Liam… come on!” Troy threw his hands in the air, leaning over his tank and pleading with his wide eyes and full pout. It generally worked, but all he got was a laugh.

“I'm not sullen and moody like some people I know. I'm just enjoying the view.”

“Yeah, right.” Troy looked around the expanse of green fields and shook his head. “This isn’t the sort of view which normally catches your eye. I'm thinking, and correct me if I'm wrong, you’ve got someone else on your mind right now.”

Liam drained his flask, the coffee Troy packed for them now gone. “Men don’t stick with me, you know that.”

“So, it is a man, then?”

“Yeah, but I'm just wondering when I can get him into bed, that’s all. I'm not mooning over him like some lovesick puppy.”

“How come you haven’t fucked him already then? Isn’t that kind of like a date? Meeting someone but
not
having sex?”

“Firstly, it is so a date if you have sex. Not that I do the dinner and date sort of stuff, but still.”

“No, you jump straight to the end of the night and miss out all that
boring
stuff.” Troy loved dating. He liked to get to know someone, that was the exciting bit, the waiting, the kissing, the touching. It all added to the excitement and he’d tried to explain that to Liam, but he just jumped straight to the end part every time. “So, no sex, but you're seeing him again?”

“Monday.” Liam was packing his flask away in the saddle bags which sat on either side of the bike.

“Twice. Huh?” That was a first.

“Nope.” Liam shot him a look of pure acid. “I just said we didn’t have sex.”

“Yeah, but…” Troy grinned at him. “Look, this is good. I like you seeing a guy more than once.”

“It’s more friendly than anything.” Liam sat astride his bike, black leather pants pulling tight over his big thighs, zipping up his matching jacket. “I just…” Liam sighed. “You should see him, Troy. He’s gorgeous.”

“Oh yeah?” They all were.

“Yeah, he has these eyes.”

“We all have eyes, Liam.” Troy chuckled as he pulled on his helmet.

“Not like his.” Liam had this silly smile on his face and Troy paused with his helmet hovering above his eyes.

“Oh, like that, is it?” He grinned at Liam. “Someone has a crush.”

“I do not. I'm just saying he has nice eyes, that’s all.” Liam started his bike up, the roar of his 2300cc engine drowning everything out, and Troy pulled his helmet down and started his bike up.

The conversation was now over, but Troy wouldn’t forget it. It was too exciting to think of Liam finding someone. Scary too, but mainly happy.

It couldn’t be serious, Troy thought as he followed Liam down the winding country lanes. Liam didn’t do serious, but then he didn’t do two dates—if it was a date. It didn’t sound like it, but then Liam had never been on a real date, so what the hell did he know?

It made Troy think about who’d gotten under his skin. Maybe he could get Liam drunk and get him to say more during the weekend. They were only an hour off their mates’ pub and Troy was looking forward to seeing them again. Sue and Derrick were old friends of their foster parents and they’d been coming to the pub since they were fifteen. It felt good to be heading toward them. Troy needed the break, which was why Liam had taken the day off work to make sure it happened.

The next week would be worse than the previous. Troy had a meeting with his solicitor planned. He had a couple of weeks to get all the info from Strangeways Prison where Troy’s dad was serving his time, and Troy was hoping it would end on a positive note, meaning his dad would stay there for a few more years until Troy could accept his freedom. Not that he would ever forgive him, or forget, but the longer he was away, the better it seemed to feel to Troy.

The country lane thinned out, and he concentrated more on the passing cars and the turns. His Suzuki easily made the journey comfortable, much better than the Kawasaki Ninja he’d rode the last time they’d visited. This one was more upright, less leaning and more sitting. Troy must be getting old if comfort was such a big deal to him on a bike. It never used to enter his mind, he just sat on the damn thing and made it go fast. He followed Liam, watching as he manoeuvred his red and silver Triumph. Like Liam, it was big and wide, it looked great and had an exhaust on it which could be heard for a mile after they’d passed. It made Troy smile beneath his helmet. Just like Liam.

He looked further up the road, the lane climbing upwards, and there, right on the top, was the place they were heading. The Lost Hiker. Named because it was miles from anything and only people walking through the local hills found the place.

Liam and Troy pulled up around the back of the large, white, stone building, their loud engines signaling their arrival, and Derrick made his way outside, rag in one hand, empty pint glass in the other and a big smile on his face.

Troy tugged his helmet off and grinned. “Hey, Del.”

“Alright, lads. Nice ride up? You got the weather for it.”

Liam slung his leather jacket over his helmet on the bike, running his fingers through his short, brown hair. “Too hot for me. Sitting on that big engine in leathers and in the heat, as soon as you come to a stop it feels like I'm on fire.” Liam gave Del a big bear hug. “I'm dying for something cold to drink.”

“Get inside. It’s past one. Lunch time. She made you a meat and potato pie.”

Troy chuckled at the salivating look on Liam’s face. The pies were fantastic though, and Liam was obviously up for letting his diet disappear for the weekend.

They ate lunch with Derrick and his family. His two sons were up for the weekend, helping out and more than likely there to join in the drinking after the pub closed for the night. Both had their girlfriends in tow, and they all reminisced and laughed, talking about what they used to get up to years ago as kids. A couple of hours later, they were all full and on their third pint of the afternoon. Derrick left them to tend to the group of walkers which just arrived, leaving the six of them to continue with their afternoon’s drinking.

Before Troy could let himself relax fully, he needed to get one thing out of the way. The tent. “Liam, we have to get the tents up before we get drunk. Remember the last time we did this and we ended up crashing
on top
of the tents because we were too drunk to set them up?”

“Not really.” Liam laughed. “I remember the cold you had for two weeks afterwards though.”

Troy folded his arms across his chest, glaring at Liam. Like most things in life, Liam got away with nothing that night and Troy caught the flu. It knocked him out for a good month and he wasn’t about to relive that wonderful experience any time soon. “Get the hell up and get outside, wanker. I'm not sleeping in the night air again. No matter how nice it feels now, knowing my luck, it’ll piss it down during the night like last time.”

“I was fine and I was right there with you.”

“Yeah, so?”

Liam pulled his heavy legs from the chair in front of him and stood. “Come on then. I hate fucking about with these tents.”

“Once they’re up, it’s fine.”

“No, then you have to take it back down again, and that’s even worse ‘cos you have to fit everything back in its place. Takes longer.”

Troy gave him a nudge, speeding him up as they left the pub. After unpacking the equipment from the saddle bags on their bikes, and finding a place not too far away from the pub to set them up, they joked about putting Troy’s tent up. He insisted it be his first because Liam had a short attention span and Troy knew after doing one he’d want a break—a break which would lead him back in the bar and more beer down his neck. Troy didn’t care. Let him sleep outside, Troy was going to be in his sleeping bag, dry and warm.

As predicated, as soon as the one man tent was up was up, and with lots of jokes from Liam about his fantastic erection skills and Troy trying not to laugh too much, Liam strode back into the pub, Troy happily following him.

The afternoon turned into the evening, another meal was brought out and they sobered up a bit, but not for long because then the locals were filling up the place. By locals, Troy meant the local village a few miles away. This pub was legendary for it lock-ins, and tonight, with Troy and Liam being there, Derrick had spread the word about the late opening. There was a good crowd in and the music became louder, everyone drinking and joking. It was around three in the morning when Derrick said no more. He wasn’t as young as he used to be, and his sons were passed out somewhere, so it was bed time. A few of the locals wouldn’t make the walk back down so Derrick just let them flake out on the chairs by the fire.

It was when they stumbled outside Troy started to howl with laughter. It was raining, and a warm summer breeze was carrying the welcome raindrops over their hot bodies. “You're going to get wet, matey.” Troy grinned as they reached
his
tent.

“I’ll be fine,” Liam slurred out, already dropping to the grass with a thump. “I’ll be asleep in no time.” His lids were already dropping, and Troy gave a shrug before he pulled down the zipper on the small one man tent and crawled into it.

He soon realised he should have stripped off outside because there was no room to stand, but somehow he managed to kick off his boots and jeans and laid on top of his sleeping bag, a thin layer of sweat already forming on his body. He pulled back the entrance and let the breeze brush over him.

He must have drifted off, and when his eyes next opened, it was because his foot was soaking. He leaned up, looking down his body, seeing his feet hanging out of the entrance, the rain now falling hard and fast and the temperature had dropped. Liam could sleep through anything after a drink, but surely not this? Troy kneeled up, sticking his head out of the tent and shaking Liam up. “Get inside, dickhead.”

Liam rolled onto his side and glared at Troy, but then the realisation he was getting wet, and fast, made him speed up and Troy found himself pushed backwards as Liam struggled through the opening and took his space.

“Get the fuck off my spot, Liam. You're all wet. Take your clothes off.”

With much swearing and kicking, Liam had his boots and jeans off, leaving him in his shorts and t-shirt. Troy pulled out the spare bag and threw it at him.

“Told you to put up yours. I knew this would happen.”

“You sound like an old woman bitching. Shut up and lay down. I’ve got a headache.”

Troy slumped back. It was still hot despite the rain and he laid next to Liam, both of them soon falling asleep.

Troy was still half asleep when he became aware of the thunder in the distance, or at least he thought it was thunder. He laid still, waiting, then he growled and spun over to Liam who was snoring loudly beside him. “Liam!” Troy poked him hard in the ribs. “Turn over. You're deafening me.”

Liam snorted awake, turning on his side and throwing an arm over Troy, instantly falling back asleep. Troy huffed, shuffling about, trying to worm his way backwards, but really there wasn’t much room to begin with, so he just gave up and laid there. The bright flash of lightening and actual thunder rolling above them made Troy stiffen. So it wasn’t just Liam snoring after all.

He fell asleep wondering if the poles they’d used were metal or plastic, imagining the tent going up in flames after being struck by lightning and Liam’s warmth lulling him into happier place. But then sleeping with Liam always comforted him; it had since they were teenagers. He found his head resting on the plump muscle of his chest, his scent and tighter hold cradling Troy as he drifted off.

Morning, or possibly afternoon, came quickly, and Troy felt Liam playing with his hair before he opened his eyes. Liam always did wake before him, but generally never moved while Troy was still asleep. He yawned, stretching out his legs, his body still pressed up against Liam’s side as he lay on his back, Liam’s brown eyes meeting his and a goofy grin on his face.

“You’ve been making me laugh.”

“What?” Troy rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

“You’ve been talking in your sleep.”