Read Online Essence of Time by Liz Crowe - Free Book Online Page B

Now." And then he was on him, and the tangle of arms, legs, chests, cocks, tongues and teeth made his head spin as he gripped and groped his way along the amazing real estate of Kyle's body. Unsure how to proceed, he let his body guide him, easing Kyle over onto his belly, licking his way down the mocha skin of the other man's back. He pressed his cock against Kyle's tight ass.
    "Condom?" he managed to grind out. 
    "Reach behind you, in the basket, a variety to choose from. But hurry up my blonde god, I need you inside me."
    Rob rolled latex down over himself, grabbed a tube of lubrication from another handy basket at the foot of the bed and spread Kyle's channel with a slickened finger, easing up high, finding his sweet spot as he reached around to grip the other man's huge erection. "Yes." Kyle whispered, arching his back further. "Now. Fuck me now, Rob."

Chapter Six
     
    The perfection of the sun rising over the Detroit River was the same as always. Clouds tinged purple, pink and orange never changed. The water looked choppy today, Kyle mused, sipping his espresso, as if nothing were different. As if he could look out onto his once orderly world and expect it to be the same. He sighed, closed his eyes and tried to force thoughts of the tall blond man out of his head. It would lead to nothing but heartbreak. Like every other person he let himself get close to. But…he smiled, leaning back in his zero gravity seat on the large balcony. The man was pure perfection on two legs, truly. The way they’d connected, so quickly and with such heat, he refused to deny that.
    Tossing the dregs of his cup into the potted trees he willed himself under control. There was a shit ton of work to be done, including meetings with his accountant to finalize payroll and a potential PR mess involving a certain NBA star who’d gotten way too rough with one of the subs a few nights ago. Asshole. Used being a Dom as an excuse to beat on a girl. Kyle shook his head and wandered inside, his brain still clanging with one word: Rob.
    A few hours later he looked up from the laptop and groaned, stretching his large body out in both directions under and above the large wooden desk. Glancing around his space he frowned. He’d had the giant loft transformed to his exact specs a few years ago. Taking what was once a huge two thousand square foot empty room and making into his dream home, with partial walls, a resort-worthy bathroom, a mini-gym and his bedroom. A place he had never, ever taken another person, until a few weeks ago, when he met Rob. He hadn’t had any trouble being alone either, until recently. Now, he wanted nothing more than to flop on the big leather couch in the man’s arms, drink some beer, watch a game—which more and more leaned to soccer, at Rob’s request—then kiss, and fuck himself silly.
    Jesus, Summerlin, get a grip. It’s just a fling. He’s out of here in another six weeks. Out of your life . Rob was not a natural submissive by any stretch, but he’d shown the guy a thing or two about how erotic it could be to give up control. Just a few nights ago he’d let Kyle blindfold him, lay him out on the bed, use the nipple clamps and ice cubes to his heart’s content. The whole thing had been mind blowing for them both.
    Rob had been interning the last month down at the Detroit River Brewing Co. for something to do before heading to Chicago and had gotten completely sucked in to the craft microbrew thing. He’d learned to brew, or mostly to clean up after brewing, best Kyle could tell, and came to their bed redolent of malt and hops. Kyle loved it but the obsession escaped him.
     The night after they’d done the first blindfolded play, Rob shown up at the flat with a huge grin, but had winced when Kyle had gripped his shoulder. “What the hell did you do?” Kyle demanded, yanking the soft polo over the other man’s head. He’d run a hand over the angry-looking artwork marring Rob’s perfect shoulder. Fury had