Because, Brett... [BxB]

Chapter 10: Mutual Desire

A point comes when touching yourself in the dead of night to the light of your phone screen as soft moans roll out of the speaker just doesn't cut it anymore. It's been months since I've felt the intimate touch of another human. I want to be held in a firm grip, to know there's more than just my hand giving me pleasure. Maybe that's why I can't hold back as the request to come over to his for a drink flows from his upturned lips. It's needless to say that I comply with a swift nod of the head, and before I know it we're rolling down the streets towards the upper-class half of town. I hadn't expected anything less from him after the fancy evening he'd planned.

"This is it," he smiles almost wickedly as he ventures out of the car, me in tow a few feet behind. Though I fall further as I stop to take in the enormity of what I've just stumbled across. Towering walls, large windows. The house itself isn't massive - he doesn't need it to be for one person - but the grandness of it speaks volumes. Modern and sleek. "Don't tell me you're reconsidering now?" He looks over his shoulder to address me as he fiddles to draw his keys out of his pocket.

"Not at all."

"Glad to hear it." He grins as the door clicks open and he stands aside to let me pass through first.

Beautiful. A word I maybe don't use too often but it seems to fit now.

In an effort not to seem like Cinderella marvelling over all the prince's riches, I content myself with a simple glance around the hallway, lingering for maybe a second too long on some of the fine artwork hung sparsely, before I slip my shoes and jacket off. I wouldn't want to ruin his expensive carpet after all. He follows me in and does the same, only offering an arm to take my coat once he's slipped his own from his broad shoulders.

"I'll just go and put these away," he says, "the living room's just through there so make yourself at home." He gestures through a doorway to the left before heading to the right to deposit our coats.

Taking his advice, I wander through into a spacious room. Again it's beautiful, it oozes character and the warmth that a home is supposed to have as if it's been worn in over the years. The grandness succumbs to the distinct feel of Seth. His scent coats the furniture, you can see the imprints from where he's spent hours on the sofa probably screaming at the TV when the football wasn't going to plan. In the far corner stands a bookcase, filled to the brim with all classic works like Wuthering Heights and Great Expectations. Not that I'm much of a book person, but the whole room tells a story about the man.

"You have a beautiful house," I compliment as I feel his presence encroaching in on me.

"Thank you. I'm not the most gifted when it comes to interior design but with the help of a few buddies, I think we managed to get it about right. We were going for 'obviously rich, but cosy'. Basically, my own personal man cave with a touch of style so that I don't scare away visitors."

I chuckle at that and feel his hand against the small of my back to lead me further into the room.

"I told you before that I wanted you to make yourself at home. So take a seat," he shoves me into the softened leather of the couch, his tone playful, "and I'll be back in a minute with some drinks. What'll it be?"

I stare up at him amused, "What've you got?"

"Whisky it is then. Straight. You'll be spilling all your secrets tonight." He chuckles and he feigns turning to leave.

Nevertheless, I don't waste a second to start screeching my protest, "Ewww! No, no, no, no! Just get me a beer, lager, like a Corona or something."

He strolls back out of the room, a hearty laugh on his breath as I slump into the cushion.

When he returns with a bottle of Corona in hand and a tumbler with something dark and brooding in the other, I smile whimsically before gently tapping the spot next to me in hopes that his rather nice behind might fill it. He doesn't disappoint.

Handing over my beer, he throws his now free arm over my shoulders. A gentle tug lets me know that he wants me to lean into his side and I find myself blushing like a schoolgirl at the prospect. He jostles me once more before I concede to his wishes and snuggle into him.

"This is nice," I whisper taking my first sip from the bottle and watching as the fizz from being upturned threatens to overflow. Seth hums in agreement.

I know where tonight is leading, there's only one place - in my experience - that an invitation to come over after a date leads.

With a touch as light as a feather, I allow my fingers to brush over his shoulder to his chest. The white dress shirt is pulled almost taut over his muscles in places. His chest is firm but has a little give, I like that, something soft and warm to lean on. My hand snakes a little lower, caressing over his stomach before tracing its way back up his physique to roam into his hair. Every now and then, he'll take a sip from his glass but he doesn't speak. I don't feel like we need to speak. It's one of those moments that are so truly intimate and fueled by mutual desire that any sound other than the slowly increasing frequency of laboured breaths would seem out of place.

Eventually, I have it in me to remove my head from its rest on his side. I stare up into his calm expression, the way the sea appears calm but I can see the crashing and the roaring of the currents beneath the surface. His hazel eyes flit down to meet my shifting position and he smiles almost knowingly. I wonder if he can feel the arousal too, so prominent that I'm struggling to keep my cock from straining against my pants. I gulp down another few mouthfuls of my Corona.

As soon as I draw the bottle away from my mouth, just like that, his lips are on mine. It's not quite how I'd imagined him. I'd thought he would be softer, more caressing and gentle. But what hits me are rough, starved until ravenous, dominating lips. I can't help but melt into him.