Best Laid Plaids (Kilty Pleasures) Page 8

  But if he could bottle this feeling; this euphoria of being completely at the mercy of this strong, handsome man and his...well, almost unnaturally large cock...it was divine. As close to perfect as he’d ever felt. Which was probably a lie brought about by his own desperate need to be touched.

  Desperate.

  He relaxed his throat because the telltale bitter tang of pre-ejaculate tickled. Still, Joachim didn’t build up his pace. As though he really intended to do this for the rest of the night—plans to track down whatever that eerie thing that hung about the hedge be damned.

  And that was fine with Ainsley, though the wetness dripping down his neck was running into his ears and it itched a wee bit. His jaw was slightly sore. He swallowed and Joachim groaned.

  That did it.

  He swallowed again, knowing from experience that the tightening around the head of Joachim’s prick half down his throat was exquisite. Joachim thrust faster so tears pooled at the corners of Ainsley’s eyes. It didn’t hurt, per se; at least, it wasn’t the sort of pain he’d ever complain about.

  Fuck, he needed something to touch his own erection before he spurted over his belly and then it would be back to a working relationship. Because it had to be only this one time, didn’t it? Joachim was here to prove Ainsley wrong in the pedantic, tiresome way other men tried before.

  It wasn’t as though Ainsley didn’t realize, even if Joachim thought he was exceptionally clever. Pretending as though he was open to the possibility that Ainsley wasn’t full of shite.

  The back of Ainsley’s skull would be tender and bruised. The ground was rough. And he was ready for it to be over and wanted it to last for the next seven years in equal fucking measure. Not that he was in control of any of it, which was...fucking glorious.

  If only he could make use of his hands and arms, he’d be able to touch the body holding him down. Pinch those nipples and twist them until Joachim cried out. Bite down on those shoulders, which were larger than they had any right to be for a man who spent his life in academia. Ainsley might die if he couldn’t clutch at them. Now. But it was so delightful that he couldn’t, wasn’t it? He was the one who usually controlled the situation. Once or twice some bumbler had tried to tease him with headboards and ties, but it wasn’t satisfying. Not the way this was.

  Oh, Ainsley’s hips were rearing now, against nothing. His feet slipped on the cotton blanket as he tried to bend his hips up high enough to touch something. The sound of his cock slapping against his stomach was loud even behind the wet slip of Joachim’s prick in his mouth.

  God, he needed to swallow, but once he did, Joachim would come. His face wore the twisted concentration, eyes screwed tight, mouth hanging open, then teeth clamped on those pillowy lips Ainsley wanted to pay back in kind. For even fucking longer than Joachim had used his mouth.

  And he would. Oh yes, he would. As soon as Joachim came, and he sucked it all down his throat, he’d flip Joachim to his back while he was still twitching and moaning and wail away in his mouth surrounded by that beard and...

  Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

  His poor untouched prick unloaded into nothing at all while he struggled to swallow the inordinate amount of come that kept...coming, ha!...out of Joachim.

  Who sighed and grunted and groaned and sat back, releasing Ainsley’s mouth.

  Rough hands cupped Ainsley’s face as he stretched and rolled to his back, pulling Ainsley along with him, the sticky mess transferring to Joachim’s belly while he kissed him. Soft now. Not letting go of his face, even though the bubble of sick sweet emotions in Ainsley’s chest was too overwhelming to bear.

  He couldn’t free himself from those arms, and gave up trying. Allowed himself to be kissed even though he hated kissing after it was all over. It was foreplay; kissing. Not something to indulge once he’d been brought off.

  Joachim sprinkled kisses on his sore lips, down his neck. His hand drifted between Ainsley’s legs and over the still much-too-sensitive head of his now empty cock.

  “My God, you’re beautiful,” said Joachim in a deep voice like distant thunder. Much too kind to listen to when he was all prickly and itchy inside, and aggravated that he hadn’t had the chance to know what that beard felt like. “I hope that was all right?”

  Dear Lord—and he needed some sort of emotional petting, too? Ainsley didn’t do that sort of thing. His modus operandi was to dress and leave with a vague promise to meet again, which he knew would never happen.

  But he couldn’t do that because he was trapped on this trip with this man for the next few days. So he forced himself to relax and kissed Joachim back. Once. “It was lovely.” Because really it had been. Magnificent. God, he was still lost in kisses and even whimpered when Cockburn pulled away.

  What the hell was the man doing? Joachim lapped at Ainsley’s nipples, when his whole body was too on edge to handle being touched. He yanked at Joachim’s hair but he didn’t let go. Bugger. No teeth. No biting, only a tongue that wound its way past Ainsley’s chest as he grew used to the sensations along the muscles of his stomach. The ones he prided himself on and did sit-ups every day to maintain. He couldn’t do much about being slender—he ate like a horse, didn’t he? But he could sculpt his body to make it more appealing.

  The beard was soft. Not wiry, not scratchy. And it rested on Ainsley’s pubic bone as Joachim licked the stickiness off his skin.

  Fucking hell, that was a bit perverse, wasn’t it? He liked it.

  Keep going.

  He lifted his hips without meaning to, and the tongue drifted lower. Up one side of Ainsley’s now soft cock and down the other. God almighty, the sensation of that beard between his inner thighs was even more than he’d dreamed as Joachim spread his legs and scooped under him so they dangled down his back. Sucking one ball in his mouth and rolling it over his tongue.

  And...oh.

  His prick twitched. Joachim didn’t react, just continued to suck and lick as slowly as he’d fucked Ainsley’s mouth. With the same amount of dedication and...well...it was working.

  Life after death.

  He was usually able to bounce back, but not right away. But it had been simply years now. And the harder his cock got, the more Joachim appeared not to have fucking noticed. Joachim’s nose pressed against the seam of his ballsack; his tongue whispered something Ainsley’d not be able to hear even if he was able to care.

  And then Cockburn clamped his teeth down right on that thin bit of skin that hid under his testicles, right at the apex of his thigh.

  Ainsley started. Squealed. Tried to shake off the lips holding him hostage.

  In return, Cockburn’s arm settled over his biceps and chest like a belt, holding him flat to the ground. And the sod chuckled. And licked. Fuck. And nipped. And as Ainsley’s brain was ready to shut down and expire, Cockburn struggled to sit on his thigh, his arm still bracing Ainsley, whom he brought up to stand on his knees. Let his arms go. Looked up at Ainsley with those beautiful blue-green eyes and guided Ainsley’s cock to his lips.

  To keep his balance, Ainsley dug his hands through Joachim’s hair. Joachim spread his knees wider and adjusted his own position to envelop Ainsley’s cock deep in his mouth, all while keeping that beard pressed to the delicate skin of Ainsley’s thigh.

  Cockburn knew his way around a prick, didn’t he? And his eyes never left Ainsley’s though he grabbed Ainsley’s thighs and moved him in and out of his mouth. Which was helpful because he was half-dead and ready to flop over and die the rest of the way.

  And on and on it went until he came a second time. It almost fucking hurt.

  In the very best way.

  He was on his back with an arm draped over his eyes for God knows how long. He might have even slept, because when he opened his eyes again, Joachim wore trousers and was slipping on his shirt.

  And it was past dusk. It was full-on night.

  Joa
chim slapped his thigh. “Are you coming with me to hunt down this incorporeal beastie, or shall I leave you to snore? You aren’t very quiet, either, let me tell you.”

  Ainsley laughed. It was hard to make him laugh, but that did it. He propped himself up on his elbows and ran his hand down his abdomen. It wasn’t sticky. He looked askance at Joachim, who waggled his eyebrows.

  “There’s a creek down behind that copse of trees. You were out cold, and I assumed you wouldn’t mind if I cleaned you up?” He shrugged and whistled as he buttoned his shirt. Hiding away that perfect chest.

  “No. That was...thoughtful. Thanks.”

  “It was nothing.” Joachim tossed him his own clothes and he dressed in silence. Waited for Joachim to make some emotional declaration that would make it easier for Ainsley to reject him. He despised sentimentalism.

  But Joachim said nothing of the sort. He maintained his air of easy companionability. In a wretched American accent, he said, “Hop to it, slowpoke. Now that it’s dark, I’m not as confident as I was that there’s nothing out there.”

  A chill raced up Ainsley’s spine and the satiated post-fucking glow evaporated.

  There was something out there, and he almost felt sorry that Joachim was about to face it for the first time.

  Chapter Eleven

  Joachim

  Holy fucking mother of God, four hours later, Joachim was still in a daze. Ainsley Graham was a beast, and he’d be damned if he let the man know how affected he was. He’d watched that wall go up as soon as he’d kissed Ainsley after they’d come. Graham didn’t want kind words and soft kisses.

  Of course he didn’t. Ainsley was interested only in commitment-free sex, and Joachim had best remember that. Which was all fine and good. He was looking only for the same. At least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

  He’d be distinctly unattached and see how Ainsley cared for that. He’d spent years learning to read people’s reactions for a glimpse into the inner workings of their minds. The handsome academic was going to learn to regret it.

  The evening had chilled, but while Graham slept, Joachim had walked back to the pub—his ankle would suffer for that tomorrow—and fetched sandwiches and a thermos flask of coffee. It would be a long, cold night sitting out in the open waiting for a ghost that wouldn’t appear. The two men and the dog didn’t have far to walk to the place where Ainsley insisted was where he’d had two sightings before.

  Fascinating. There were no tells to show the man was lying. No flicking his eyes to the side, no change in the size of his pupils. His voice didn’t change modulation. If Ainsley was in any experiment Joachim had overseen, he’d have marked him as telling the truth.

  Which led into wondering what was wrong with Ainsley to believe that he saw spirits.

  And what did that make Joachim if he’d had the most fantastic sexual encounter in his life with him? Best not to think that hard.

  “Here we go,” said Ainsley, stopping in his tracks.

  There was nothing but a stretch of road flanked by mountains and a few lights twinkling back in the village. A shudder coursed between Joachim’s shoulder blades.

  “Worried?” asked Ainsley.

  “Certainly not.” Because there was no such thing as ghosts.

  Though there was a peculiar sense of...their not being alone.

  “I’m not particularly, but I’ve had this sensation before. When everything was almost too calm out on the front. And next thing you know, a grenade would explode, or shots would ring out and a moment later, the world was on fire.” In fact, it had happened enough times that Joachim’s stomach twisted.

  “Gracious. How horrible.” Ainsley’s voice was faint even though he stood less than a foot away. Under the light of the moon—thank God it wasn’t cloudy, and the moon was close to full—Graham’s eyes attached to something no one else could see.

  Joachim tapped the toe of his shoe against Ainsley’s. “All right?”

  His companion nodded, but still stared a million miles away.

  There’d been two canvas deck chairs in the boot of the Austin and Joachim went back to fetch them. When he returned, Ainsley sat on the ground, arms around his knees, petting the dog. Unexpected. Joachim hadn’t thought he was the type of man to get dirty.

  His clothes, at least.

  Smirking, Joachim set up the chairs and offered a hand to Ainsley, who rose and sat down on the canvas without a muscle moving on his face. When he spoke some time later, Joachim nearly jumped from his chair.

  “Your...ankle, is it? What happened to it?”

  “Got caught in some barbed wire.” Joachim was matter-of-fact. He’d said it a hundred times and would say it a hundred more and it rolled off his tongue now as if it didn’t matter.

  Ainsley nudged his arm and gave a wry smile. “There’s a lot more to it than that, I’m sure.”

  “There is,” agreed Joachim. “But I’m not in the mood to tell.”

  With a sage nod, Ainsley breathed deep through his nose and sighed. “Sometimes you seem to walk fine, but just now; you favored your right leg very much. Are you in pain?”

  He really was the most mercurial man Joachim’d ever met. Like a riddle that could be solved if Joachim paid enough attention. Joachim loved puzzles. Loved unlocking the answers. Loved the pride at having found a solution. He shrugged. “A bit. Naught to worry yourself over.”

  “I’m not worried in the slightest. You appear to be unrelentingly competent. But I’d be happy to rub it down.”

  Joachim chuckled and cut his glance sideways.

  “That’s not what I meant, as you well know.” But Ainsley’s playful grin warmed Joachim’s chest, just the same.

  Joachim planned on saying no, but Ainsley didn’t wait. Pulled his foot into his lap and untied his shoe.

  “Bugger—are all these scars from barbed wire?” Ainsley’s fingers traced up his shin and down, pulling his sock half-off. “And fuck me—what’s this mark from?”

  It was on the side of his calf. “A bullet.” He’d been lucky it went through at the angle it did and didn’t shatter the bone.

  Ainsley asked no more questions other than a few “does this hurt?” ones as his fingers worked the muscles and tendons that wreaked such havoc on Joachim’s life.

  Amazing. Deftly as a doctor. He glanced at the ginger, who wore a slight frown, like he was doing his damnedest to concentrate on relieving Joachim’s pain.

  Unexpected, and...more thoughtful than Joachim would have imagined the flighty man could ever be. Blissful, really. He could get used to this. He slid down in his chair, making himself more comfortable, and a deep sigh burbled up from his belly.

  Ainsley’s head lifted and their eyes met. Joachim hadn’t noticed that there was a tension to the ginger’s face until it was as it was now—relaxed. A small half smile crept up Ainsley’s cheek and Joachim bent forward to cradle that cheek in his palm, unable to resist.

  The moment shattered in the moonlight as Ainsley jerked his head back. He didn’t comment, or quit rubbing Joachim’s leg. But the atmosphere was decidedly chilled. Dear, dear.

  “Tell me about this specter,” Joachim said, hoping to gloss over his feeble attempt at tenderness that the ginger clearly didn’t wish for.

  “Ah. Nothing that hasn’t been seen before and written into who knows how many books. Have you read them?”

  Unable to lie, Joachim nodded. “I read your account of the myth in Highland Hauntings.” Ainsley’s book had given him frighteningly vivid dreams that he hoped wouldn’t color this experience.

  “Did you enjoy it?” There was a pointedly uninterested edge to Ainsley’s voice. As though Joachim’s opinion mattered to him and he pretended it didn’t.

  “Very much so. Your author’s voice is entirely companionable and made me laugh out loud more than once.”

  Indeed, it h
ad. Joachim had thought more than once while reading the series of books that he’d enjoy a conversation with anyone whose wit was as sharp as the author’s. He’d been saddened to think that such a bright mind could be so mulishly shortsighted to claim a belief in ghosts.

  The Scotsman lowered his head quickly, not keeping eye contact. “How will you know if your mind is playing tricks on you or not?” Ainsley’s fingers worked miracles on Joachim’s ankle and he was able to twist it around like he could with the other foot.

  “I don’t expect to see anything.” Joachim leaned back and shut his eyes. “Like in the close this morning.”

  “I’ve never seen a ghost in the close. I took you there to see if you were making fun and claimed to see something that wasn’t there. This is a different thing, altogether.”

  Joachim’s mouth dropped. “You were testing me?”

  Ainsley shrugged. “Aren’t you testing me? And my sanity? I wanted to have a baseline for your honesty. Now I have one.”

  Neither man spoke for a few minutes, but Cockburn finally admitted that Ainsley had a point. “But this is a sighting you believe in?”

  “I do. There’s always a chance that it won’t appear, of course, but I doubt it. It’s a bit of an attention hog.” Ainsley laughed.

  “Takes one to know one, aye?”

  Ainsley pulled at a few of the hairs on his leg and Joachim yelped. “Hey now.” He pulled his foot back, but Ainsley held his calf firm.

  From under those decadently long lashes, Ainsley’s face formed the first near-humble look Joachim had seen. “It helps me focus, you know? When I have something to do like this.”

  Joachim squashed down the feeling that he could get used to this sort of attention as easily as the other kind. “Well then, as a favor, you can continue.”

  “If you’d like to sleep, I’ll wake you if the thing appears.”

  But Joachim didn’t wish to sleep. Not when Ainsley so masterfully worked on his leg.