Cock and Balls (Handcuffs and Lace) by Mia Watts Read Online Free PDF Page A

wouldn’t be long before Montegue would be looking for an escape plan to this farce of a gathering. He looked for and located several points of exit.
    A girl draped herself against Montegue’s side. Not the first tonight, but if he had it his way, it would be the last. He stood her upright and turned her around, gave her a gentle push. The girl laughed and bumped into another target. Thank God.
    “Monty!” Hank’s voice carried over the beat of the music.
    Montegue tracked his voice to where Hank stood waving amidst a group of guys. Hank motioned him over. With a warning glare, Montegue obeyed. Blending in was going to kill him, Montegue thought, which seemed to be Hank’s point.
    “Monty,” Hank gestured widely, drunkenly to the guys in his group. “These are the guys. Guys, this is Monty. My boyfriend for the night.”
    “Hot,” one guy said, giving Montegue a slow once-over.
    “Isn’t he? Can’t wait to get him in the sack.” Hank laughed when Montegue scowled.
    “Does he smile?” another friend asked. “Dude, it’s a party. Lighten up,” the man admonished Montegue.
    “That’s as light as he gets,” Hank told them with a note of seriousness. “Cute, right?”
    “If you like them surly,” a third guy suggested.
    “I seem to,” Hank said seriously. He slung an arm around Montegue’s waist.
    Montegue accepted it although he stiffened at the unexpected contact. He didn’t want to encourage the behavior, but he had to admit, privately, that he also liked the feeling of Hank’s arm around him.
    “Baby, have a drink. Relax a little,” Hank said.
    “You’ve had enough for both of us,” Montegue bit out.
    He didn’t like the term of endearment, knowing it was given only to diminish his role beside Hank. He didn’t appreciate it, and if he had his way, he’d show Hank exactly how much he didn’t. And turn the kid into a whimpering, desperate mass of need in the process. If Montegue had his way—that was the key. There wasn’t a reality in which that would happen without a little creative thinking.
    Montegue dropped his arm across Hank’s shoulder. Hank jerked his head around in surprise. Montegue settled him with a feral grin and a squeeze. “Time to go— baby .”
    Interest lit Hank’s gaze with curiosity. “Oh?”
    “I’m planning on strapping you down to the bed so you can’t get away from me tonight.”
    The guys hooted. Hank’s lips parted, and he laughed nervously. Hank’s friends would think whatever they wanted. The expression on the presidential son was priceless. Hope. Fear. Uncertainty. God, it was enough to get Montegue hard. It had been a joke designed to remind Hank of who was boss. However, the flare of lust in Hank’s eyes had Montegue thinking a host of different ways he could make the other man beg. All of them had Hank strapped down and naked.
    Those deep dimples bracketed Hank’s wicked smile. He was so close. Close enough that Montegue could see the charcoal rim around his gray eyes and the tiny flecks of amber that freckled the iris in two spots of one eye. Close enough that Montegue could smell the rich spicy undertones of Hank’s aftershave and feel the heat of Hank’s body lining his own.
    Hank shifted, moving from side to front. He slid a hand into the hair at the back of Montegue’s scalp. Strong, long fingers tugged him forward as their gazes locked. Hank’s teased and challenged. Montegue should’ve broken free. He should’ve taken Hank by the wrist, put him in the car and forced him back to his condo to wait for the Secret Service relief. He should’ve done a lot of things, but Hank’s smooth lips pressed his and he forgot every one of those things.
    Sensation sizzled along his nerve endings as Hank’s soft breath feathered across Montegue’s lips between tentative kisses. Montegue had the presence of mind not to kiss back. Something nagged at him like a warning. Like the stomach dropping sensation of Hank’s lips fitting on his own had a