Free Boats in the night by Josephine Myles

a strand of longing
    running through it. That joy was back again. No one had ever looked at Smutty in that way before, not even Finn, and for some reason it halted his rush of words and heated his face.
    Smutty definitely wasn’t a blusher, so it must just be the extreme humidity of the greenhouse.
    He tried to lighten the atmosphere. “You’re looking at me all weird. Have I got something stuck between my teeth or what?”
    Giles stepped closer again, and Smutty felt the wooden lip of the staging against his arse as he tried to escape the proximity.
    “Your teeth look just fine,” Giles said in a low rumble that shivered through Smutty’s flesh. “You look great.” Giles reached out to cup Smutty’s jaw and ran a thumb over his cheekbone.
    Bloody hell, Smutty could feel a half-hard length pressing into his hip as Giles closed the distance between them, then began to nuzzle into his neck. “I didn’t get a chance to have that shower yet, you know. Well, you can probably smell that, seeing as how you’re—fuck!”
    Smutty yelped at the sensation of Giles’s tongue in his ear, but once the shock passed, warm liquid pleasure rose to take its place. He eased his elbows back onto the wooden boards behind him, parted his legs and tilted his head to allow Giles access. Giles followed with grinding hips and a ravenous mouth sucking down on his pulse point. “Shit, that’s good.
    Feeling hungry were you?”
    “I skipped lunch,” Giles mumbled against his skin, the rasp of his five-o-clock
    shadow almost distracting Smutty from his words.
    “Me too. Gods, I’m famished.” Smutty’s stomach gave a well-timed rumble, and he
    began to chuckle, but the laughter was swallowed up by Giles dropping to his knees and mouthing the outline of Smutty’s hard-on through the threadbare denim. “Mmmm, but you can’t lunch on me. Remember the rules?” If only he’d thought to go searching for condoms up in the house earlier… Unless Giles had some on him?
    But it was becoming increasingly challenging for Smutty to hold a coherent thought
    together, what with Giles ripping his fly open, tugging down his jeans and grasping hold of his cock. When he felt the heat of Giles’s mouth like a brand against his shaft, he stayed him with a hand. “You have to pull off when I’m close, yeah?”
    “Of course,” Giles said with a frown that Smutty wanted to wipe away. “I won’t do
    anything you don’t want, I promise.”
    “Okay. Cool.” The tension eased out of Smutty’s shoulders and he leant back on his
    elbows again, content to let Giles explore.
    And explore Giles did, running a hot tongue up and down Smutty’s prick, teasing with kisses and light nips. When Giles’s hand eased from his hips and cupped his balls, Smutty let his head fall back and a groan escaped him. He wanted to watch every moment, but the effect of Giles’s touch was overwhelming. Instead he watched patterns pulse behind his eyelids to the rhythm of his pounding heart. But then he felt Giles’s other hand wrap tight around the base of his cock as slick heat enveloped the head, and his eyes sprang open.
    There Giles was, kneeling on the filthy floor in a pristine suit, sweat beading at his temples, and looking like he was desperately trying to cram as much of Smutty into his mouth as possible. When Giles’s stretched lips met his hand Smutty saw him struggle not to gag, but he drew back and valiantly made another attempt, reducing his grip on Smutty’s cock to just a tight ring of thumb and forefinger.
    Smutty grinned when it quickly became apparent Giles couldn’t deep-throat. It was
    fun watching him try, and he’d definitely give the bloke marks for effort. Those blue eyes were watering and the grunts of frustration charmed him—he’d never had a guy want to fit him all in that badly. But who cared whether or not Giles could suck him deep, when there was that glorious pressure, that pumping hand, and most of all, the sight of Giles staring