Faith (Men of the Mountains Book 4) by Tallulah Scott

Author:Tallulah Scott [Scott, Tallulah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-03-05T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 13

Joey stepped into the large, open front room on the ground floor. Logs were ablaze, heat rolling from the fireplace, the flickering, uneven light the only illumination. He could see through the windows that it was pitch black outside.

Two large chairs were facing the fireplace, a table between them with a decanter of what appeared to be Scotch on the table, an empty glass next to it. Rob sat in one chair, a half-full glass in his hand.

Joey took the empty seat, but didn't bother with the glass.

They sat in silence for a while. Joey watched the fire, listening to the crackling and popping. A spark shot off, like a bullet shot from a gun, landing on the fire-proof mat in front of the fireplace.

"My dad used to say when the fire popped like this, that usually meant snow," Joey said.

"What do you think it means?"

"I think it means a tiny pocket of air grew heated and exploded," Joey replied.

"No room for those old-school romantic ideas inside you?"

"I don't think so," Joey said. "I lost my belief in romance a long time ago."

More silence.

"Tell me how you feel, right now."

"About what we did?"

"About anything," Rob said.

"I…I don't know. That was different."

"You never snapped your fingers."

"No."

"Why not?" Rob asked.

"Why should I?"

"I had to be hurting you, cutting off your breathing."

Joey nodded. "You were. You did. Wasn't that the point?"

"What's inside you, Joey? What's got you all knotted up?"

"I believe we all walk our own road, Rob. We carry our own burdens. If we're lucky, we find someone to walk with, to share our lives with."

"And if we don't?"

"You're familiar with the verse ‘Better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all’?"

Rob laughed softly. "Who isn't? I don't think that's what this is about. You're dealing with more than lost love. You're scared of intimacy, of commitment, of feeling anything."

"So you tie me to a bed and fuck me? Does that make me some kind of easy candidate to be your BDSM slave? Is that what tonight was about? Showing me my place in life? In your life?" There was bitterness in Joey's voice. He could hear it, feel it, and he didn't care.

"No," Rob said, putting his glass on the table. He stood, stepped between Joey and the fireplace, slowly went to the ground, kneeling at Joey's feet. He pulled on the belt loosely tied around Joey's waist. The knot unraveled, robe fell open.

"Rob," Joey said, putting his hand on Rob's forehead.

Rob reached up, took Joey's hand in his own, kissed it softly, looking up at Joey as he did. He worked one hand along Joey's arm, down his stomach, ever-so-softly cupped Joey's balls, holding them for a moment before sliding his hand forward, along Joey's expanding, hardening cock.

Joey watched, his heart suddenly pounding, breath coming in short, shallow bursts, sweat beading on his skin.

"Rob," he said, his voice a whispered protest. He shouldn't. He couldn't. It was one thing to be tied up, blindfolded, helpless, but sitting here, taking part – he began to feel as if he were going to hyperventilate.

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