September 5, 2018
Welcome to the Midweek Tease! Summer is lingering on here in the Mid-Atlantic with temps in the nineties. Baby, it's hot. It's not yet time for leather jackets but that's where we're going this week.
Be sure to check out all the Midweek Tease participating blogs at midweektease.blogspot.com.
This week, here is a bit from Leather Jackets, which is part of the Men of Marionville collection.
Enjoy!
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INTRO:
Wynn held the hip-length coat for me as I slipped my arms into the sleeves, then he let the weight of it come to rest on my shoulders. The jacket was light but incredibly warm. I flipped open the left side to check the lining.
“Don’t bother. You’d have to cut the cloth to see what the insulating layer is.”
I stretched my arms out in front of my chest. The jacket moved with me, giving just enough to remain comfortable.
“This is a nice jacket. I see why you liked. Does he make bombers?”
Wynn reached in the closet and pulled out a black bomber complete with silver studs and chains. He caressed a front panel. “This is so you, Jude. Take it.”
For a moment, I was tempted. “I can’t accept this. It’s hand-stitched so I’m sure it was expensive.”
“Nine large. But take it. Call it a signing bonus.”
“Wynn, I don’t know the first thing about modeling. You need a professional, or better yet, model this yourself. Your fans will go wild.”
His fingers trailed down my leather-clad arm until they found mine. He hesitated, then stroked his thumb over my knuckles. His voice was so low I had to strain to hear it.
“I knew you were here. I came back to Marionville to find you, Jude.”
EXCERPT
“C’mon on over here.” He lifted his arm, and I leaned in against him like I did it every day of my life. “Jude, where do you want to go from here?”
I could play coy—something neither of us had ever liked—or I could be upfront with him. I chose the latter.
“Wherever you’re sleeping, I’m sleeping, and you know it. Now we can try to find a bar where the clientele won’t mob you, or we can find a nice quiet—private—place and say some things that need to be said to each other.”
He grinned at me. “Damn, Mary, you should be out of breath after all that.”
I growled and turned on him. “Don’t. Call. Me. Mary!”
Wynn held up his hand in mock surrender and it was the opening I needed. I dug my fingers into his ribs. He yelped and twitched, and the next thing I knew, we were rolling around on the floor of the limo, choking with shared laughter.
We rolled left, and I rose over him. Wynn’s long legs wrapped around my waist, squeezing me. I feigned defeat so he’d release me. The ploy worked for about a second and a half and then I was on my back looking up at him. The smile faded from his face and his hand cupped the back of my head.
“I’ve thought about you so much, Jude. I was wrong not to find you years ago.”
It would do no good to argue. Too many years had gone by for either of us to resurrect blame. Nothing would be gained and all the steps we’d taken in the last day would be erased. I didn’t want that. He’d only be here for such a short time. I had to make the most of every moment.
“Maybe, Wynn, but perhaps not. You had things you had to do. I had things I wanted to do.”
“Having you with me would have made it all sweeter.” He lowered his mouth to mine.
I was startled by the gentle poignancy of his kiss. For a split second, he laid himself bare for me, then I opened my lips and invited him in. The change in him was swift. A deep groan rumbled in his chest. His pelvis flexed to mine. My balls drew up as my cock swelled, eager for his touch, for the wet swipe of his tongue.
Wynn’s lips trailed fire down my neck and along my jawline. My heart pounded as the skin on my back and buttocks prickled. Deep inside, small muscles twitched with anticipation of something I couldn’t be sure would happen. I hooked my foot around the back of his knees and rolled us against the other seat. We ended up on our sides facing each other.
“Damn, it’s tight quarters in here.”
Wynn’s big hand clamped onto my ass and squeezed. “We had to promise no sex in the limo to keep our driver happy. But he turns a blind eye to the occasional little grope-and-pant session.” His cool hand dipped under the waistband of my pants and his long fingers wrapped around my hard shaft and moved in short strokes. I rested my forehead to his.
“Oh, God. Every time I jerk off, I think of your hand.” I cupped his balls through his slacks.
He kissed me again, his tongue teasing mine and sending my pulse skyrocketing. “Do you want to get off now?”
I pressed forward, pinning his hand between our lower bodies and stopping his subtle movements. “No. Stop. After all this time, I don’t want to you to jerk me off in the damn limo and get your driver upset.”
Wynn gave my cock a last easy squeeze and pulled his hand out of my pants.
“We need to go to your place. If any of the local paparazzi has figured out where I’m staying, they might spot us sneaking into the parking garage at the hotel.”
I rimmed his ear as I murmured my agreement. He reached out a long arm, smacked the intercom button, told his driver to head to my place and put his arm around me. Wynn paused, his lips scant millimeters from mine.
“It’ll be okay, Jude. You’ll see...”
ABOUT LEATHER JACKETS
Wynn DeRocher’s talent and ambition catapulted his band to the top of the charts, but he paid a steep price to achieve success. He needs a flesh and blood man, one who understands the demands of his music. He needs the man he let get away - Jude Thatcher.
Wynn pitches a proposal to Jude - a lucrative job modeling the band’s new line of signature logo'd clothing. Jude accepts but both men know it’ll take more than fancy dinners and limo rides to convince him to risk his heart again.
To covet might be a sin, but Jude needs a gesture of good faith. And he wants Wynn’s leather jacket as much as he wants Wynn. Almost.
KC Kendricks
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