Tied to Trouble(15)

Owen wasn’t breathing, and he wasn’t sure Chad was, either, as Owen extended his small finger and nudged, just a little, against the bulge in Chad’s jeans.

“Chad.”

Owen froze. So did Chad. And Austin was staring at both of them like they’d gone insane. Austin cleared his throat. “I asked you what pie you wanted. That was your requirement for showing up, dressed and showered, yes?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Owen saw Chad’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “Lemon meringue.”

As another reward for answering, Owen nudged his balls again. Chad sucked in a breath but kept it quiet so that Austin and the waitress didn’t even notice.

A beeping sounded, and Austin frowned at his phone. “Ah,” he said. “I have to take this call. I’ll just step out front.”

Owen found his voice. “Sure.”

Chad nodded woodenly.

Austin slid from the booth and made his way to the door, phone at his ear.

Chad didn’t move. His hands were clasped on the table in front of him, and he stared at the now-empty booth across from them. And Owen… Well, Owen was fucking hard and uncomfortable and despite how horribly their last meeting went, he couldn’t think of anything but getting his hands on Chad again. He wanted more skin. He wanted to bite and nibble and lick.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pen then slid a napkin in front of Chad. “Write down your address.”

Chad didn’t move, but his eyelashes fluttered.

Owen reached up and cupped Chad, then squeezed the hard ridge in his jeans. Chad moaned softly, and Owen suppressed a victorious grin. “Write down your address, because I’m coming over as soon as this meeting is over. You understand?”

Chad’s chest rose and fell, and for several agonizing seconds, that was the only indication he was even alive. Then he snatched the pen, hastily scrawled an address, and slid the napkin back to Owen. Then, slowly, he turned his head, his lips curling, until they were in that oh-so-familiar smirk. “Can’t keep your hands off me, huh? Like my speed more than you thought you would?”

That damn smirk. Owen should grab the napkin right now and rip it up in front of Chad’s face, but his dick was running the show now, so instead, he squeezed harder, longer, until Chad made a protesting sound in the back of his throat. Owen eased up and returned the grin. “We’ll see just how fast you are when you’re on your knees at my feet with my cock in your mouth.”

Chad licked his lips. “Can’t wait.”





Chapter Five


Chad cared about his sister’s proposal. After he got over the initial shock, honest to God, he did care. But it was hard to focus on Austin’s words with Owen’s thigh pressed against his. Owen had moved his hand, so it was casually placed on Chad’s knee under the table, but Chad still felt the phantom nudge on his balls, that squeeze of his shaft.

He wanted to get the fuck out of here and get home and get naked. If it didn’t happen soon, he was going to go out of his mind. He’d shoveled his lemon meringue pie into his mouth without really tasting it. He’d licked his spoon a lot and made an obscene show with the meringue on top. Austin stared at him like he was crazy, and Owen shot him looks that told him he was going to pay for that tease later.

Which was great. Chad wanted to pay for it. With that monster cock down his throat.

What Austin had planned was relatively simple, and the guy was organized. They exchanged emails, and Chad cringed because he hadn’t checked his email in like a week. His email address—chadtothebone—was in stark contrast to Owen’s professional one from Gamers. Owen had given him a you-can’t-be-serious look when he recited it, but Chad refused to apologize. He was proud of that damn email address, and it made him laugh.

Once he and Owen had their assignments, it was finally time to get the fuck out of there. Chad shook Austin’s hand and clapped him on the back. He was truly happy for the guy and for Marley. They were great together, and Austin treated her well.

Chad would have to call Austin to save face for his bizarre behavior, but that could wait. Later. Yeah. Right now, he had to get home, because Owen was coming over.

He was home ten minutes before he saw Owen’s Toyota pull into the lot of his apartment complex. He rolled his eyes. “Turtle,” he muttered. As he waited for Owen to reach his door, he stood in the entrance of his apartment, trying out various positions—leaning with his shoulder against the wall, then another with his hand braced on a table in the entrance. He was thinking about standing with his feet apart, arms over his chest, all alpha, when the door burst open.