Special Delivery: Special Delivery, Book 1 (19 page)

Sam stilled, and so did Craig and Mitch.

Mitch lifted his eyebrows slightly. Then he smiled, the tiniest upturn of lips, and with terrible slowness, Mitch caressed first Sam’s hand, then Craig’s. Then Mitch stroked Sam’s rigid erection.

Now it was Craig who shuddered. He leaned forward, his free arm resting on the table as he spoke to the two men. “Tell Mitch about this new design you’re testing,” he suggested. “Maybe he can hook you up with a supplier.”

As the men spoke animatedly, Craig appeared interested, but all the while his hand danced with the other two beneath the table. His fingers tangled with Mitch’s and Sam’s, and he ran his thumb down the ridge of Sam’s tortured dick. Then, still pretending to listen to the conversation, he undid Sam’s fly. Sam flinched, but he didn’t stop him, only clutched at Mitch’s hand.

Mitch placed Sam’s fingers on the zipper, closed Sam’s thumb and forefinger around the tip and forced him to pull it down. Then he reached inside the strange underwear, pulled Sam’s erection out, found Craig’s hand and nudged his fingers toward the bottom of Sam’s shaft.

Sam melted into a slouch as the two men stroked him in a strange concert, completely ignoring each other above the table as they worked together below it. Their ministrations made Sam wiggle, which aggravated the beads. Sam was so hard he thought he would explode. He ached, not only in his groin but in his shoulders, and his legs, and in his belly. He was exquisitely aroused, more than he’d ever been in his life. But he was also embarrassed to be found out, and so he kept quiet, letting the men torture him, letting them send him out to sea on a thick haze of lust.

Then his balls began to tingle.

At first he thought he was just that turned on, but then he realized, no, something literally buzzed there, something small and focused. It pulsed, sometimes buzzing hard, sometimes soft. Just when it was about to drive Sam out of his mind, it would fade away, but then it would return without warning. It was the underwear, he realized. Sam clutched at Mitch, who pressed something small and smooth into Sam’s hand. It had a button. Sam clicked it, and the buzzing stopped. Mitch took it back, and the underwear buzzed again.

Vibrating underwear. That had been the little something Mitch slipped inside, some control to make the underwear rock and roll. Apparently it had a remote.

The hands on Sam became more insistent, and the buzzing came more frequently, and Sam started to thrust his hips against the onslaught, half trying to escape, half trying to encourage them. His eyes darted from the businessmen to Leon, the former of whom were too engrossed in business to notice, and the latter who watched Sam openly. Leon met Sam’s eyes, and Sam found he could not look away.

Craig found Sam’s cock ring, sliding his thumb along it, and Sam bit his lip to keep from crying out.

Leon glanced at his watch. “Goodness. Will you look at the time? Ten thirty already.”

The two men who had yet to realize what was going on beneath the table startled almost in unison. “Oh, no. Honey,” one of them said, turning to the other, “we’d better get home.”

“We have your card.” The other man smiled apologetically at Mitch. “We’ll be in touch. Good to meet you.” When Sam looked up at him through a haze of alcohol and arousal, the man faltered, then laughed. When he rose, he winked. “Enjoy your evening, Craig.” Then they were gone.

Craig kept a firm grip on Sam’s penis, making Sam’s eyes roll back in his head. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow, Leon.” Craig’s fierceness made Sam shudder. When Leon started to object, Craig added, “I’ll do the Peterson project for you, if you leave.”

Leon hesitated, then swore as he rose. “You’re a horrible bitch, Craig. They were
mine
.”

“
Were
being the operative word.” Craig leaned forward to nibble at Sam’s neck. Leon swore again, but then he was gone.

The buzzing increased, and Sam gave up, tipped his head against the booth and let out a cascading sigh.

Craig nuzzled his way down Sam’s neck. “My apartment is a block from here.”

The words kicked heat into Sam, but fear too, and the latter won out. He dug his fingers into Mitch’s arm. Craig licked his way down Sam’s throat, but Sam kept his eyes on Mitch, who bent toward him.

“Violet,” Sam whispered.

Mitch’s face softened, and beneath the table, he firmly pushed Craig’s hand away. “No, thank you.”

Craig seemed disappointed. “Ah. Maybe we can find somewhere a little more private?”

Sam averted his eyes, still clutching Mitch’s hand.

Mitch stroked Sam’s thigh. “Do you want to leave?”

Sam didn’t know. He was horny but also confused. His panic stemmed now from not knowing what he wanted, let alone how to vocalize it.

“Talk to me, Sam,” Mitch said. “Tell me what you want.”

Sam shut his eyes and leaned against Mitch’s sleeve. “I don’t know.”

“Do you like this? The three of us playing?”

Playing.
Everyone kept saying that, as if they were talking about swings and merry-go-rounds. Sam let out a breath. “Yes, but—it’s a little too…much.” He shivered as Craig’s hands returned to his groin. “But I don’t want it to stop, either.”

“Do you dance, honey?” Craig’s hand slid up Sam’s arm. “We could all go out on the floor together and dance.”

Sam looked at Mitch for guidance, but then Craig’s thumb flicked against the tip of Sam’s penis, making him moan.

“There’s a place off to the side that will be perfect.” Craig tucked Sam inside his underwear and zipped but didn’t button him. He leaned over and kissed Sam’s cheek before tugging at his hand. “Come on.”

Craig led Sam out of the booth, and Mitch followed. Once they were standing, Mitch held on to Sam’s waist, his thumb hitched into Sam’s belt loop, for which he was grateful because it kept his undone pants from falling down. They wove between the dancers, moving far to the back of the room to a dark corner by the stage, where they slipped into the space behind a large speaker. Once there, Craig took Sam by the hips and smiled as he pulled them together. He moved, his hand snaking to Mitch’s waist, drawing him closer as well. Mitch came willingly, pushing up against Sam’s sliding waistband.

They danced mostly with their hips as hands went everywhere and heat built inside of Sam. Mitch didn’t do much, just held him and stroked, but that was fine, because Craig more than made up for him. No one could see them, not with the crowded bodies on the floor or the huge speaker blocking them, but neither were they alone. Sam felt safe and highly aroused. When Craig took Sam’s cock out of his pants, Sam let him, and Mitch held his arms, pulling Sam’s hands up to lock them behind his neck so Sam’s fingers were tangled in Mitch’s wiry hair. As the music pulsed around them and arousal carried him away, Sam closed his eyes, tipped his head back and surrendered.

Craig kissed his way down Sam’s throat, his hands working with intent at Sam’s dick. Mitch had his hands beneath Sam’s shirt, stroking the flexing tautness of Sam’s belly, but he dipped down, tugging at Sam’s waistband to expose Sam’s whole cock to Craig’s hand. Craig nuzzled Sam’s cheek and stole a swift kiss from his lips.

Mitch grabbed Craig by the back of the head. Sam watched, dizzy with lust, as Mitch bent around him and took Craig’s bottom lip between his teeth.

Then Mitch let go and pushed Craig to his knees. Sam watched, spiraling out of his head as Mitch’s hands guided Sam into Craig’s mouth. Craig looked up, and Sam looked down, mesmerized by the sight. Mitch’s hands slid Sam’s pants farther down, stroking the smooth globes of his ass as Craig swallowed Sam, taking him to the root, his lips closing over Sam’s cock ring. The ring tightened as Sam’s erection swelled.

He tugged at the back of Mitch’s neck, trembling as Mitch’s fingers slid to his cleft. He gasped when Mitch found the cord to the beads. He cried out when Mitch pulled, pushed and turned the handle. He froze as he saw Mitch watching him with dark intent. Sam’s lips parted as Mitch tugged again on the beads. Then, gaze still on Sam’s face, Mitch slipped a finger in alongside them.

Craig sucked him, Mitch fucked him, and Sam slid away, staring up at Mitch’s face until he couldn’t see anything, his eyes glazed by lust. Mitch’s thrusts pushed him deep into Craig’s throat, and the music drowned out his cries as the two men used him. He opened to them, right there on the dance floor, and let them.

Sam came abruptly, his hips bucking almost violently against Craig’s face as his fingernails dug into Mitch’s neck. He shut his eyes and tried to pull himself to Mitch’s mouth to silence himself, but Mitch moved away, and so he nestled his throat instead, burying his scream into Mitch’s pounding jugular, against the fading hickey he’d left there the night before. When it was over, he shuddered, convulsing for several seconds before sagging, depleted.

Craig rose, hands skimming up Sam’s sides before catching Sam’s face. He glanced at Mitch, paused, then kissed Sam sweetly on the cheek. Pulling back, he planted a kiss on Mitch’s mouth as well, though Mitch kept his lips firmly closed.

“Please.” Craig gave Sam’s penis a gentle squeeze as he tucked him into his pants. “Come to my apartment. I swear I’ll be good.”

Mitch refused before Sam could object. “We’ve got to get going.” He pulled his finger out of Sam and did up Sam’s jeans.

Craig seemed disappointed but not surprised. He pulled his wallet out and handed Mitch a card. “If you’re ever in Denver again.” With one last touch of Sam’s cheek, he was gone.

Mitch pocketed the card and took Sam’s hand, leading him out of the bar into the parking lot.

Chapter Thirteen

They drove in silence to the warehouse.

Sam sat carefully, the anal beads now even more irritating after his orgasm, the cock ring heavy against his tender balls. He found he could not look at Mitch and took refuge in watching the city pass by. However, he startled out of his reverie when Mitch swung abruptly into the driveway of a fast-food restaurant. “I forgot to feed you. You want a cheeseburger?”

Sam nodded and touched his stomach absently, abruptly hungry.

Mitch ordered him two and got the same for himself. He tossed Sam his order, and after wolfing his food down in the parking lot, he drove them back to the warehouse, keeping his hands rigidly on the wheel. Sam ate all of his food, but the silence had him worried. He wondered if he’d done something, but he was so confused by the back and forth and the sheer madness of everything they’d done that he couldn’t manage much of any reaction, except that he was tired and glad he was with Mitch.

When Mitch parked the truck, he didn’t take the keys out of the ignition. In fact he didn’t make any move to leave the vehicle, only sat gripping the wheel and staring straight ahead.

“I’m okay. I swear.” Sam rubbed his greasy fingers nervously along his jeans. God, was it always going to be this awkward? When would either of them learn to let go?

Mitch glanced at Sam. “You seemed…upset when we left.”

Sam started to pull his legs up onto the seat but stopped when it aggravated his insides. He rested his cheek on the back of the seat instead, looking at Mitch’s arm rather than his face. “I wasn’t. I’m not.” He forced his eyes up. “I’m overwhelmed is all.”

“I shouldn’t have had us go back to the bar, after the shop.” Mitch sounded wretched. “I should’ve brought us here.”

God, Sam was
tired
of this. “You didn’t want to. You wanted to tease me. I wanted that too.”

“This is everything I ever did wrong with a man coming back to haunt me all over again.” Mitch rubbed his hands over his face.

What am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to say?
Sam tried to draw his knees up, but as soon as he moved, he jerked and hissed.

“What’s wrong?” Mitch reached for him in alarm. “Did you get hurt?”

Sam blushed. “The—beads. I’m so sensitive now.”

Mitch pulled the keys out at last. “Come on, then. We’ll go to the rig and take them out, and then I’ll leave you alone.”

Sam put a staying hand on his arm. “I don’t want you to leave me alone.”

Mitch looked at him, and they sat frozen in the dark, silent truck.
Tell me what you want.
That’s what Mitch needed him to do, except Sam didn’t want to have to say it. He didn’t want to hear out loud what he wanted, but Mitch needed it. Mitch needed it a lot more than Sam needed to not feel awkward.

“I want you to take me into Old Blue, and I want you to do things to me. I want you to use the things you bought on me. Every last one of them. I want you to…” Sam’s breath caught, and he had to shut his eyes. He made himself keep going. “I want you to m-make me show myself to you, and I want you to f-fuck me.” He swallowed his fear and pushed on. “I was upset after the bar because I loved it so much. Because it felt so good to have you watch. Because it was so dirty and awful to do all that with a stranger. Because it was hot and it was wonderful, and it’s everything I’ve always been afraid to be. It’s difficult for me to believe someone actually wants to see me that way. But when I stop being afraid, I know it’s okay, because it’s you.” He opened his eyes and looked over at Mitch, more vulnerable than he’d ever felt in his life. “I feel safe with you.”

Mitch stared at him for a long time, his face unreadable in the dark. Then he stroked Sam’s cheek with a single finger. It smelled musky, and Sam realized it was because it had been inside him. He shivered and pressed a tentative kiss against the digit.