Country Mouse Read Online Free PDF Page A

protested.
    “Good,” Owen whispered. The man’s lips were lean, but sensual at the same time. Owen raised a tentative thumb and rubbed the bottom one gently.
    “I. Top.” Malcolm asserted, and Owen grinned. He popped his own thumb in his mouth and sucked on it, looking Malcolm in the eye as he hollowed his cheeks. Then he took his thumb and rubbed his ownlower lip.
    “It’s not the same,” he murmured. Malcolm’s eyes seemed fixated on his lips, on his thumb and the gentle stroking.
    “Maybe you should let me do it,” Malcolm added with some spirit, and Owen stuck out his tongue and licked his lips, tracking where his thumb had just been.
    “Then maybe you should.”
    Malcolm rose up and seized the back of his head with an impatient, blunt hand and hauled him down for a kiss. Malcolm may have been shorter but he was damned strong, and the body pushing up against Owen was solid with muscle and smelled of expensive cologne—wood fragrance, tangible and real, even if the man wasn’t. Owen wrapped an arm around Malcolm’s waist, responded to the kiss that was equal parts dominant and exploring, and both parts turned him on.
    He was a little dizzy when Malcolm broke the contact just long enough to push him toward the couch, then urged him to sit down, no, spread out on the leather. The rich smell of the upholstery complemented Malcolm’s scent of sweat and sharp cologne as he pushed down on Owen, nearly keeping him trapped with his body. His kisses grew abruptly hungrier, demanding more. Owen grinned and began to open the buttons on Malcolm’s shirt, fiddly as they seemed. There was something to be said for a T-shirt and a pullover hoodie.
    But he wasn’t complaining, because the chest he bared held all the promises that the suit had made. Gym bunny, clearly, chest hair trimmed but not waxed. He paused, then reached up to Malcolm’s face to remove his glasses. Malcolm jerked back and took them off himself, then lifted a hand to rub his eyes as he adjusted to the new visuals.
    “How strong are they?”
    “Strong enough to be annoying as fuck.” Malcolm reached over to the coffee table and placed them down, then went back to Owen’s neck, his sucking kisses interspersed with gentle bites that promised so much more and made Owen’s skin tingle. “Help me get your top off.”
    Owen pushed up and pulled his T-shirt and hoodie over his head, trapped for a moment in the sleeves, and of course Malcolm seized the opportunity, pushing his arms back over his head and down onto the couch, the sweatshirt acting as a restraint and a blindfold.
    Without warning, Malcolm’s teeth were on his left nipple.
    “Ow,” he protested, but together with that hand on his cock in his trousers, the pinching bite felt damn good.
    “Ow?” Malcolm breathed, his breath tickling Owen’s nipple. “Does that mean stop?”
    “Hamburger means stop,” Owen panted. “But suck it . . . harder . . .” The pressure from Malcolm’s mouth increased, and Owen bucked his hips, thrusting his cock against Malcolm’s hard grip. Harder . . . harder . . . oh . . . yes . . . right there . . .
    He didn’t come, but something in him stretched taut, relaxed, and suddenly he was there, in the moment, intensely aroused but building, building, as Malcolm bit his nipple again, then moved his mouth to the other one, first biting, as if to make a point, then sucking on the nub. Malcolm’s hand released his package and instead rested flat on his naked stomach, the touch firm enough to make him aware of his breath and his arousal at the same time.
    “Keep your arms up there, eyes closed,” Malcolm murmured, his breath chilling Owen’s wet nipple.
    Owen nodded and relaxed a bit more, signaling he’d play along, and Malcolm shifted his weight to pull the top off Owen’s arms, hesitating for a moment as if to check Owen was playing along. “I’ll blindfold you,” he said calmly, stretching further to reach something behind the couch.
    The movement