But Wallace has other ideas. The moment he joined the firm, Wallace knew he’d
have trouble keeping his hands off Brody. In an effort to stay professional at
work, he’s kept his sexuality to himself, but that’s about to change.
When he hears Brody say that seeing the latest project leave the premises is
“better than sex,” Wallace knows he has to take action. It’s time someone taught
Brody how good sex can be—especially when it’s served up with a generous helping
of leather.
Excerpt:
“It’s a bloody wonderful feeling, isn’t it?”
“Hell, yeah.” Brody rested his forearms on the railings, leaving just an inch between his elbow and Wallace’s hand, and peered down into the loading bay.
As they watched, a van revved its engine and pulled away, taking with it the last parts of McFadden, Rutledge and Jones’s latest completed project. The carefully calibrated machines were, at long last, safely tucked away in their containers, each one of them wrapped up with the same kind of care a doting mother might bestow upon her newborn.
The job was done. It was on time, on budget and, best of all, it was now officially on its way out of the building.
As the van turned a corner and rolled out of sight, Brody’s attention strayed, not for the first time, to the man standing beside him.
As Brody subtly observed him out of the corner of his eye, Wallace rolled his shoulders. “Feels like a ton weight’s been lifted off my back,” he said, with one of those lopsided grins that inevitably made Brody’s cock rise very quickly to the occasion. “It’s better than winning the bloody lottery.”
“Better than beating England at Rugby,” Brody offered, in a vague effort to make it seem like he was paying attention to Wallace’s words rather than just admiring the view he presented.
Wallace already had his regulation overalls halfway off, the arms of the dark blue boiler suit tied around his waist. Only a close-fitting white T-shirt now stood between Brody and Wallace’s naked skin. The leather jacket tossed over Wallace’s shoulder only added a hint of welcome darkness to the picture.
Wallace laughed, but he didn’t look away from the loading bay and make it necessary for Brody to drop his gaze. “During the last minute of extra time, to win the grand slam,” he suggested, upping the ante even more. His Scottish accent deepened in line with his enthusiasm.
“Better than sex,” Brody said, now speaking entirely on auto-pilot.
Silence fell between them and stretched out for several seconds. Wallace tilted his head to one side. “Maybe you’re doing it wrong.”
Brody frowned, wondering if he’d missed an entire segment of the conversation. “What?”
“Maybe you’re doing it wrong,” Wallace repeated, his gaze still never leaving the bare concrete floor below them.
“You’ve lost me,” Brody admitted. He decided it was best not to add that any such lapse in concentration probably had something to do with the way all his blood had rushed to his cock the moment Wallace joined him overlooking the loading bay. Not for the first time since Wallace joined the company, he sent up silent thanks for the fact that his own overalls were baggy enough to hide even the most flourishing erection.
“Finishing a project feels good, agreed—especially one which was this much of a bugger. Meeting a tight deadline is a rush, and God knows the bonus is going to come in useful,” Wallace said, as he turned to face Brody properly. “But, if you think any of those things comes anywhere near feeling as good as sex does, then you’re doing something seriously wrong in the sack.”
Brody stopped leaning on the railing and automatically mirrored Wallace’s posture. He swallowed several times in quick succession and pinned his best imitation of a friendly, but distinctly non-sexual, smile to his lips. “Thanks, but I think I worked out the basics a long time ago, mate.”
He was about to make himself turn away when Wallace huffed. “The basics? If all you’re doing is inserting tab A into slot B, it’s no wonder what we’re doing at work is the highlight of your week.”
Brody’s feet welded themselves to the floor. Walking away when Wallace was talking about sex was simply not possible. Brody was slightly shorter than Wallace and had to tilt his head back to meet his gaze. Their eyes locked and Brody willed suitable words to his lips, but they wouldn’t come.
It was bloody hard to lie while maintaining eye contact with Wallace, and the truth was that Brody’s working hours had been the best part of his week ever since Wallace joined the team. Fantasising about Wallace had also comprised the entirety of his sex life during that time.
Unfortunately, Brody knew damn well that Wallace was only interested in inserting his particular tab into female slots. Admitting that he was all in favour of being the slot to Wallace’s tab, was not a good idea.
Brody swallowed. Apparently nothing, not even the kind of weird lingo usually reserved for constructing dodgy flat pack furniture could make being screwed by Wallace anything other than bone tinglingly erotic.
“I…” he mumbled.
Wallace took half a step forward and dipped his head to put his lips near Brody ear, as if to share a secret. “I’m not talking about the basics, angel. I’m talking about the kind of sex that makes you scream so loudly your throat aches—the kind that involves every bit of your mind as well as your body. I promise you—once you get past the basics and bring out the leather, a whole new world will open up to you.”
“Leather,” Brody repeated, as if he’d never heard the word.
Wallace closed the gap between them even farther. The scent of his jacket immediately overloaded Brody’s senses.
“Yeah, leather,” Wallace whispered. He dipped his head so his lips almost brushed Brody’s ear. “Specifically, the kind that’s used to make whips and paddles.”
Thanks for reading! The story is available
here.
*Hugs*
Kim Dare
