Page 62 of Sin Deep
Warm hands settled on his shoulders, a soft kiss brushing his ear. “Hey, gorgeous. I missed you.”
He was startled for a second but, the touch calmed him and he smiled, turning his head. He wanted a kiss. Right now. “Petit. I missed you as well.”
“Work was a bugger bear this week. I’m glad to be done with it. I got twelve hours overtime!”
He reached for Harley and pulled his boy into his lap. “You must be exhausted. Do you want a drink?”You smell so good.
“I want a kiss, lover, and then a margarita as big as my head.”
Lover. How sweet was that? And his boy could be so direct. “I will happily kiss you, petit. Come here.” He pulled his boy down by the nape.
Harley opened up, tongue sliding along his, the taste of peppermint barely there.
He hummed and deepened the kiss, not caring if it was fit for public consumption, they weren’t actually in public, and he’d seen men do far more than kiss in this space.
Harley groaned and wiggled in his lap, tongue lapping at his lips.
“Mmm. My boy.” He smiled at Harley as he ended the kiss. “You’re delicious. I want to hear all about your week. Go and get your drink. Tell Deacon it’s on my account, please.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, so much. Do you need another one yet?”
“No, petit. Thank you. I just got this one.”
Harley kissed his cheek. “Be right back, lover. We’ll start our weekend.”
He watched the boy go, glad that he remembered to be specific about the tab this time. He planned to talk with Harley about some of those subtle things soon. He didn’t think Harley thought of himself as submissive, and truthfully, that wasn’t what he needed all the time. But here, their rules had to bend a little.
He loved the way Harley had said “our weekend”. It was their time, after all.
Harley smiled at Deacon, and whatever his boy said, it had the bartender in stitches.
He watched curiously as Harley ordered his margarita. Now that his boy was here he didn’t need or care to watch anyone else. Harley had all of his attention.
Harley wore jeans and a leather jacket, the dark hair just beginning to curl. He wasn’t a tall guy, at all, but those shoulders were broad, solid.
Winter smiled as Harley made his way back to the table, meeting the boy’s eyes. “It looks like you and Deacon are getting along. And your margarita looks good.”
“We were talking about drinks as big as my head.” Harley’s dark eyes caught the lights above the dance floor.
“That one is pretty close.” He reached out and pulled a chair closer. “Sit, petit. It’s good to see you.” Harley was right where he said he’d be. Like always. Like every time they’d made plans.
“It’s good to be seen, and I’m so glad to be here with you.” Harley settled into his chair with a little wince that turned into a smile.
Oh. Was Harley hurt? “Take a nice big sip of your drink, and then tell me what hurts and why.”
“Sorry, lover.” Harley took a drink, humming deep in his chest. “Oh, that’s nice.”
“Deacon knows how to mix a drink. Clint had one or two backup bartenders, but Deacon is the only regular.” He touched Harley’s knee. “Sorry for what, petit?”
“Just being a titty baby. I’m okay. I just had a little run-in with a falling dresser.”
Part of him said leave it alone, but he wanted to know what happened, and if Harley was his…he was allowed to ask. “What aren’t you telling me, Harley?”
“I got a couple-three stitches. Nothing big.”
He stared at his boy. “What? Stitches? Did you think I wasn’t going to notice? Don’t hide things from me, petit, there’s no point.”
“Well, I reckoned you’d see when you got me naked, but by then, we’d be naked.”
