Flashbulb by Clare London

Author:Clare London
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: drama, gay romance, air travel, romance about men, drama action romance suspense

Chapter 8

It was dreamlike, yet the warmth of Marc’s skin was all real. Bly felt a sensual delight steal over him, a wave of pleasure that brought nothing but comfort. Every time Marc’s fingers gripped him, arousal prickled along his nerve endings in a ripple of response. As tantalising as the glide of a feather, but so much less teasing. And oh, the relief! There’d been times when he was so tired, depressed and uncomfortable in the hospital that he thought he’d never feel the spike of pure sexual desire again. But Marc made him feel more physically alive than he had for months. Every time they shifted, his chest brushed against Marc’s. His nipples felt oversensitive: a nudge against Marc’s made him suck in a breath. His cock was thickening already, eager and hot inside his jeans. He could smell the lingering coffee stain on his shirt, Marc’s shampoo when he nuzzled into Marc’s neck, plus the sweet tang of sweat that had dried on their skin after their walk.

Marc’s smile pressed against his cheek. “Your touch feels sure to me. Feels good.”

It was true. Bly’s hands were graceful and steady now, caressing Marc, running careful but firm fingertips over muscle and hair. But that wasn’t the trouble, was it? “This isn’t upholstery.”

“So? They’re the same hands.” Marc chuckled. His ribs shook gently under Bly’s hands. “This is way better than the dreams, y’know.”

I know. “Sleep with me tonight,” Bly said.

“Tonight?” Marc made a gesture as if looking at his watch. “How long away is that?”

Bly smirked. “Okay. The invite starts now.”

“In that daylight you mentioned?”

“Don’t want the neighbours to know? We can draw the curtains.”

“No.” Marc’s voice was ragged. “I want to see you naked. All of you.”

Bly felt a rush of power he’d never known before. Marc had made him feel like this—empowered, sexy, desirable. “Come to the bedroom.”

Marc laughed and scooped up his bag. He never took his gaze off Bly. “Not up to a romp on the sofa just yet?”

“I just want to be comfy,” Bly said. “With you.”

“Bly?” Marc paused. “I promise it’ll be good. I’ll make you feel good.”

“I know you will. But I’ll feel better if we go to bed.”

“God, I hope so.”

Bly smirked. “No. I mean I won’t feel guilty because you won’t fall off the sofa again.”

“You…” Marc started laughing again and grabbed for him, but Bly had already started jogging up the stairs to his room.

They stumbled through the bedroom door together, still laughing. Bly tried to toe off his boots, but he’d tied the laces too tight. He had to lean against the doorjamb to pull them off along with his socks. Meanwhile, Marc had already stripped to his briefs—small, sexily black against his skin, and so tight Bly could see every line of his swelling cock underneath.

Marc could see where Bly was looking, and he ran his thumb teasingly along the top of the briefs. “Ouch,” he said with a grin. “Sooner I get free of the underwear the better.

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