Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 5

Devon could keep him caged in his arms all day if he really wanted to. "I'm out, believe me. But today I'd much rather stay in and do some number-crunching."
    Scott swallowed thickly. "Num... number-crunching?"
    "Yeah. Isn't that what accountants do? You know—count how many times I can make you come before lunchtime. How many times you can return the favor."
    The words were barely out of Devon's mouth before his lips crushed Scott's, determined tongue poking at the crease of Scott's lips until it was welcomed inside. Scott was afraid he might lose it right there in the kitchen, but unfortunately Devon pulled back before he was able to find out.
    "Oh, those numbers." Goddammit, the man was gonna kill him from looks and words alone. He sucked back a groan when Devon suddenly sank to the floor. His strong hands drifted down the sides of Scott's body, fluttering, caressing, scratching.
    "Or we could keep track of how many sucks it takes me to get you off. How many times I can stroke you until you scream for me to make you come. Or we could watch a movie."
    Scott could barely speak, but he was pretty sure his hearing was still functional. "Movie?"
    Devon grinned up at him. "I'm very versatile."
    Oh mother of God, yes he was.
    ****
    Devon showed up the following Thursday, only minutes after Scott had arrived home. A black backpack was slung over his shoulder, wicked smirk greeting Scott when he answered the door. Scott cocked an eyebrow and Devon leaned in for a quick kiss.
    "Told you I was bringing my laundry. Did you add me to your list?"
    He was too flustered for words so Devon just slid past him, his leather-clad body brushing against Scott. "Thought maybe we could go out tonight… music and drinks? If you're game."
    "Really?" Scott shut and locked the door behind him—habit, OCD, whatever. The whole situation was out of the norm for what Scott had come to expect from his time with Devon. First of all Devon had only shown up on a Thursday twice before—both times just before eleven. Second, Devon had never arrived before nine o'clock on any day of the week. And last, they'd never been together anywhere, but at Scott's house except the night they'd met.
    He watched as Devon placed his backpack on one of the hooks behind the door, arranging it carefully beside Scott's collection of duffle and grocery store bags, being sure it didn't protrude from the wall or crowd the other bags. Devon must have watched Scott rearrange those bags fifty times and it gave him a happy jolt to see Devon respect his practices despite how whacky they were.
    Devon hung up his leather jacket in the closet instead of draping it over a chair the way he'd done in the beginning. He'd started placing his boots beside Scott's shoes in the entryway, perfectly aligned, heels flat against the wall. In some ways it was like Scott had unconsciously trained Devon to his compulsive routine.
    "Damn, you look hot in your suit."
    Scott focused his mind back on Devon, feeling his whole face heat up with embarrassment. Devon had never seen him in his work clothes and that was exactly the way Scott preferred it. He didn't own designer suits, just off the rack specials that usually suited him just fine. He tried to excuse himself to change, but Devon snagged his hand and tugged him close.
    "Have I ever told you about my suit fantasy?" Devon said between nibbles and licks to Scott's lips. Scott managed to shake his head—barely. "Saw this movie once where the woman undressed the suited dude real slow, except his tie. There was also a desk involved."
    Scott wound his arms around Devon's waist, slipping his hands under his t-shirt again while Devon started loosening his tie. There was just something about the strength and curve of Devon's back that made Scott always want to be touching it. "The woman bent the dude over?"
    Devon's hands moved to Scott's ass, gripping and pulling them impossibly closer. His mouth moved from the delicious tongue bath he was giving Scott, eyes seeking and finding Scott's. "It was a very kinky movie. Maybe we could try the desk thing when we get back. You naked except for your tie, bent over the little desk in the kitchen while I plow you from behind. Or you could plow me."
    Scott thought he might faint and he definitely got that weak-kneed thing again. "The desk's kind of small." He held off mentioning the carefully organized piles he regularly straightened that would be completely obliterated.
    Gyrating his hips and grinding