Exclusive Excerpt from Broken News
by Sara Dobie Bauer
“Why are we still talking?”
“I want you to enjoy the time we spend together,” Eric said.
“And I didn’t the first time?”
Eric held the crystal glass between his palms. “I don’t know. I suspect you’re a very good actor.”
Will chewed his lower lip, and God, the sight made Eric want to wrench his whore from the chair and kiss him until he passed out.
“We’ll be spending some time together in the coming weeks, and I’d prefer it if you didn’t fake anything. I deal with yes-men all day; it’s only fair I’d like my nights to be different.”
“Only fair,” Will repeated.
“If I do anything you don’t like, tell me. If you want to try something, let me know. You don’t seem to have trouble voicing your opinion.”
Will’s eyes appraised him, and Eric felt studied. There was intelligence behind that gaze, which made Eric question how Will ended up at Le Chateau. Maybe one day he would ask. But not yet.
“I’ve thought about you in the past few days. How it feels to fuck you, to crush your body under mine. I’ve heard your voice, begging for more.” Eric sighed. “Sometimes I can even feel your skin on my hands. But there’s no conjuring the way you taste, the way your mouth feels.” He shook his head. “There’s no imagining that.”
Eric noticed Will’s hand had curled into a claw on the armrest. Eric stood and crossed the small empty space between them. He latched onto Will’s wrist and pulled him to his feet. He ran his hand down the front of Will’s chest, over his abdomen, and finally cupped Will’s hard length in his palm, which made Will hiss.
“That’s what I was waiting for,” Eric whispered.
Will dropped the scotch glass on the carpet, where it tumbled and spilled. “Kiss me, you idiot.”
Eric smiled, wrapped his fingers through the hair on the back of Will’s neck, and brought their mouths together. Will responded with immediate tongue and pulled Eric’s face closer with both hands on his cheeks.
They tumbled onto the bed, still fully clothed. Eric registered the sound of Will’s shoes hitting the floor, but mostly, his mind clung to the desperate sighs and low growls of his partner. Will’s voice was an orchestra of ardor that, like the pied piper, beckoned Eric’s body near. He shoved at the suit coat on Will’s shoulders. He pulled at the fabric of his shirt, tugging the tails free of Will’s trousers. They would never make it to full nudity, not with the way they rutted against each other—the way Will’s head fell back on the bed as he thrust against Eric’s hand. But no need to stain their fine suits.