Temporary Insanity: (Temporary; Paul and Indy #1) Read online

  That was a good question. A question I probably should have asked Gabrielle before finding myself in this situation. I considered calling her before realizing it perhaps wasn't the best time. Not unless Indigo was willing to go and stand in a corner for a few minutes. "That would be a start."

  Indy nodded. "Kinky. Could be fun, I suppose. You go first. I'll need to warm up to it. I've had less practice at it than you."

  Did he think I wouldn't? "Your constant flirting is annoying."

  He smiled, one arm sliding around my waist to tug me close again, close enough that I could feel the heat of his erection through both of our trousers. "Yet, it got us to this point. What else?"

  "I hate tattoos and piercings."

  "You haven't seen most of them yet."

  Did he mean tattoos or piercings? My gaze dropped of its own volition to the bulge in his trousers. "You don't have..."

  He smiled wickedly. "I guess that's for me to know and you to find out. I hope that's not the best you can do. Because I've got to tell you, I'm getting mild dislike so far, not hate. Are we going to have mild dislike sex? It doesn't sound that exciting. I feel like you've lured me up here with lots of false promises you can't keep."

  Was he mocking me? "Oh, you want exciting, do you?"

  Indy nodded. "It would be nice." The challenge in his eyes made me feel reckless. Or maybe that was still the alcohol. Although, I felt like I was sobering up by the minute. I reached up, grabbing both sides of his shirt and tugging my hands apart in a rapid motion. I'd never done it before. It would have been just my luck for absolutely nothing to happen. Except it did. Buttons pinged off in every direction, the two halves of his shirt falling apart to reveal the rapid rise and fall of his bare chest.

  I let my gaze travel slowly across it, taking in everything from the black tattoo of a dragon's head—it was this tattoo that extended to his neck, to answer my earlier question—to the pierced nipple. It begged for me to touch it. So I did, experimenting with tweaking and tugging on the metal ring.

  "This was my favorite shirt."

  "Huh?" I lifted my head reluctantly from the magnificent sight of his chest.

  The green eyes narrowed. "You just ruined my favorite shirt."

  I shrugged. "Just the buttons."

  "Going to sew them back on for me?"

  I shook my head, my gaze dropping back to his chest again. "Why a dragon?"

  "You like it?"

  "No." Even as I said it though, my fingers were tracing the bold patterns. I peeled the shoulder of his shirt away in order to follow the dragon's tail as it extended onto his arm. "Dragons are tacky."

  "Tacky. Right." There was humor in his voice.

  It annoyed me that every insult I threw at him he seemed to find amusing. Maybe the problem was that there was way too much talking. I hadn't come there for conversation. I'd come to see him naked. Again. Only this time it would be my cock inside him, not my boyfriend’s. Who'd ever have guessed we would get to this point when years ago I'd discovered him in my bed? I searched inside myself for the familiar sense of humiliation and loathing that manifested whenever I recalled that particular day. But it seemed to have been muted by the buzz of lust vibrating through me. Hardly surprising when I hadn't seen any action for months. No doubt once I'd gotten what I needed, it would be back full-force.

  It was time to move things on, though. Get past this weird twisted foreplay we’d fallen into. My mistake had been to stop kissing him. Right up until that point, everything had been fine. We'd been two men working out the quickest way to get each other off. That's where I needed to get back to.

  I stepped back, his hands dropping away. I walked toward his bed, expecting him to follow. Which he did. "Where are your jeans from, Paul?"

  There he went, talking again. Couldn't he take a hint? I was tempted to ignore him. Only the question was so bizarre, my curiosity was piqued. I began to undress. "Why?"

  He moved into my line of vision. "I'm still struggling on this insult thing. I'm trying to come up with something to do with your clothes."

  I undid the button on my jeans before stepping out of them. "Shut up and undress."

  Pseudo shock blossomed on his face. "'Shut up!' Wow. Rude. I'm offended."

  "Good. Finally." He didn't appear remotely offended though, his gaze trailing curiously over the naked skin I was uncovering. I was down to my briefs and he was still fully dressed, apart from the shirt hanging open. I hesitated with my thumbs hooked in my waistband, doubt assailing me. Should I even be undressing? What were the rules of hate sex? Were you just meant to uncover the necessary bits? It would make a twisted sort of sense. That way, I wouldn't have needed to get dressed again in order to make a quick exit. It was a bit late for that now though unless I was going to put my clothes back on. I should have gone ahead and called Gabrielle. She could have given me strict instructions to follow or at least told me what the rules were.

  Indy coughed. My gaze flew to his face. He waved a hand in a circular motion, a clear instruction to get on with it. I frowned at him, still reluctant to remove that one last piece of fabric, despite the fact it didn't exactly cover that much when my erection was straining at the front. "Why am I the only one getting undressed here?"

  He shrugged. "I'm just waiting for my brain to catch up."

  "What?"

  He smiled. "Yesterday, you wouldn't even talk to me. Now you're in my apartment getting naked in front of me. Just enjoying the moment."

  I shook my head. He was so fucking irritating with his perpetual easy-going temperament and his mouth that kept smiling. Why did he have to be so fucking sexy? If I had any sense, I'd use this as a wake-up call, get dressed, and leave. At the moment, all we'd shared were kisses. Kissing was easy enough to chalk up to an alcohol-induced mistake. But if we went further, how was I going to justify that to myself in the cold light of day?

  "I don't like your underwear."

  I dropped my gaze to the plain pale blue briefs I wore, before lifting my gaze to Indy's. He seemed extremely pleased with himself. "What's wrong with them?"

  He crossed his arms over his chest, looking even happier. "They're not very sexy. See! I can do insults."

  "They're fine. There's nothing wrong with them."

  Indy raised an eyebrow. "You were the one that wanted us to exchange barbs. I'm only trying to play my part." He sounded so belligerent that I almost smiled again. This really wasn't going the way I'd envisaged. Hate sex! Hate sex! Hate sex! I needed to keep repeating it to myself until it sank in.

  Indy suddenly dropped to his knees on the carpeted floor. "Come here."

  My legs moved of their own accord, stopping only when they were directly in front of him, my cock tenting the material now on a level with his mouth. He stared up at me from beneath his lashes. "Let's get you out of these horrible things."

  "They're not horrible." I didn't argue though, when he tugged them down over my thighs. The heat of his gaze on my rapidly swelling cock put paid to any chance of a protest happening. I stepped out of them, watching in silence as he smoothed his palms up my thighs before sliding them around to my ass. His fingers dug in, tugging me forward. I closed my eyes as his mouth engulfed my cock, a breathy moan escaping from my lips. I wasn't going to think about whether he'd ever sucked Stephen's cock. I was just going to let myself enjoy the feeling of my first blow job in ages. He shuffled forward, my dick sliding deeper into the hot, tight warmth of his throat. It felt so good that there was a chance that if he kept this up for too long, I was going to come without getting anywhere near his ass. It was becoming harder and harder to have a problem with that with his tongue swirling around my sensitive glans and the tight suction of his lips over my shaft.

  I opened my eyes, needing to see as well as feel. Looking down, I met a pair of green eyes, his cheeks hollowing as he almost drew completely off my cock before bobbing his head again and taking me deep, my saliva-slicked cock eager to slide back between his lips. He moved his head faster, his fin
gers digging into my ass as he kept up a relentless rhythm. My hand hovered over his head, the desire to bury my fingers in his hair and dictate the pace warring with first-time blow job etiquette.

  Somehow, he knew. He pulled off. "Do it!"

  I didn't need asking twice and clasped the back of his head, pulling him even harder against me as my cock was engulfed again. My fingers dug into his skull, forcing him to take more and making him pause for a moment with my cock down his throat. This was usually the point at which previous sexual partners balked. Not Indy though, he held still, breathing through his nose, his throat twitching around my dick until I released him. Now he knew what I wanted, he readily obliged, each downstroke taking me right down to the root; my moans grew louder and my balls tightened as he drove me closer and closer to orgasm.

  Just when I was convinced he wasn't going to let up until I came in his mouth, he stopped, his fist wrapping around the length of my throbbing cock to give it a few extra strokes before he leaned forward once more to lick one last stripe along its length. Then he sat back, looking up at me with a smug smile on his face.

  I'd forgotten he was still fully dressed, apart from the shirt hanging open. I'd forgotten everything except for how incredibly good it had felt to fuck his mouth. "I'm so close."

  He quirked an eyebrow, making no move to shift from his kneeling position at my feet. "I know. I can tell. That's why I'm giving you a chance to calm down, or it'll be over before it's begun. It's taken us weeks to get to this point. I want it to last." He stood, his hands grasping either side of his shirt, his mouth momentarily turning down at the corners. He shot me an accusatory look. "I really did like this shirt. It wasn't cheap either."

  I rolled my eyes. "Do you want to talk about your shirt or do you want to fuck?"

  He shrugged the fabric off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor with one last longing glance. "Both. We can talk about my shirt and how you're going to make it up to me while we fuck."

  I'd stopped listening to the words coming out of his mouth, too busy carrying out an inventory of his torso. Both nipples were pierced, not just the one. I'd been so fixated on exploring the first that I hadn't even noticed it had a twin. I'd already seen the dragon tattoo, the Celtic symbols, and the snake tattoo on his arm, but the rest were new. He turned around to give me a good view of his back. The same dragon tattoo that already covered half of his chest, his shoulder and his neck also covered half of the expanse of his back. He turned his head to glance over his shoulder, a smirk playing on his lips. "Sorry. No one bothered to inform me that dragons were tacky, so that's quite a big one. I'll get the laser surgery booked next week and tell them that I have it on good authority that the tattoo which took hours to complete is so horrific that I need to get it removed."

  I glared at him, even though he'd already turned back around and couldn't see. "I didn't say horrific."

  His hands dropped to the button on his trousers. "No, you said tacky. I think that's worse."

  I sighed, wondering yet again whether this was a huge mistake, especially when I was beginning to feel a great deal more sober than when I'd come up there. Only, my throbbing cock didn't agree. It wanted to bury itself in the tight, muscular ass that was being slowly revealed as Indy began to pull both his trousers and underwear down, still with his back to me. I directed my words to the dragon. "You know I don't like you, so why is it such a surprise that I don't like your tattoos?" I couldn't help adding a reference to the mystery that had plagued me ever since I'd seen him on the other side of the bar. "You didn't have any of the tattoos three years ago."

  Indy paused, the fabric halfway down his thighs. "I made quite a lot of changes around that time. Something happened, which... well, you don't need to know the details. You probably wouldn't be interested anyway. But let's just say it changed my perspective somewhat. Made me reckless in some respects, but also gave me the strength to change things... to grab on to life with both hands. My family are..." He sighed. "...I guess the best way of describing them is straitlaced and set in their ways. I'd always wanted tattoos but they didn't approve. I'd spent years trying not to rock the boat more than I was already doing with some of my other choices. This... incident made me realize that life was too short to live it for anyone but myself."

  His words hit like a sledgehammer. It sounded way too close to my own experiences, particularly in regard to family connections. I didn't want to feel empathy for him though, in case it made it more difficult to hang on to the antagonism I felt for him. I needed to change the subject and fast before I ended up standing there with a hard dick asking him stupid questions about parental expectations. "So is your dick pierced?"

  He was smiling. I had no idea how I could tell when he had his back to me, but I could. Perhaps it was something to do with his body language. "Are you hoping it is or isn't?"

  That was an excellent question. And one I didn't really know the answer to. I'd never been with a guy that had a genital piercing so my experience and knowledge was zero. That alone should mean that I was hoping he didn't, because then at least there was nothing new I needed to worry about. Only there was something about the idea that intrigued me. I didn't intend to tell him that though. I shrugged. "It doesn't really matter either way. You're the one that's going to get fucked, so..."

  He let his trousers drop to the floor before stepping out of them and turning around. My gaze immediately drifted to his cock. It was thick, long and pointing straight up in the air, but completely unpierced. I was surprised by the stab of disappointment I felt.

  Indy walked over to his nightstand, extracting condoms and lube with a flourish, and laying them on the bed. "I've gone twice with the intention of having it done. Both times I chickened out. Maybe it'll be third time lucky and I'll finally get the balls... ha... pun intended... to have it done. Of course, there's also the fact that I wouldn't be able to have sex for six weeks, which puts a bit of a dampener on the idea." He climbed onto the bed, leaning back on his elbows, and looking like some sort of catalogue model—albeit a naked, aroused one. "What do you want?"

  "To fuck."

  He shot me a “well, duh” expression as I came closer to the bed. "Obviously. That's what you're here for, although someone would have been quite happy to come in my mouth if I hadn't been the one with the willpower who stopped."

  I placed a knee experimentally on the edge of the bed. Deciding that it was firm enough to avoid going flying and making a complete fool of myself, I followed it with the other and knee-walked my way toward him, feeling the heat of his gaze as it traveled all over me. What did I want? Beyond thrusting into that tight ass over and over until I got rid of the tightness in my balls and regained enough brainpower to be able to leave, I didn't know.

  I didn't do one-night stands a lot, and when I did, they rarely came with this much discussion. I was beginning to realize that Indy was a talker. I probably should have known that from his chatty demeanor in the bar, but I'd hoped it didn't transfer into his sex life. Just one more irritating thing about him to add to the ever-increasing list.

  He raised his eyebrows, still waiting for some sort of response. I decided that a bit of elaboration was in order. "What do you mean?"

  He handed a condom over. "Any position you prefer?" He winked. "I'm happy to oblige. I'm very obliging."

  I ripped the foil packet open with my teeth, rolling the condom down over my cock and then taking the lube he offered and applying that too. I crawled farther over him, forcing his back flat to the bed as I pushed his thighs apart to fit my body between them. "This'll do."

  "Huh!" His face creased into a frown. "I didn't expect you to say that."

  "Why?"

  His hands came up to grasp my biceps as I rubbed my condom-covered cock over his bare one, his body arching up in response to the sensation it caused. I did it again, getting the exact same reaction. He let out a moan, the sound causing a tingle that started at my spine and ended at my balls. He bit his lip. "Hate sex."

&nbs
p; I kept up the movements of my lower body, my dick starting to remember how close it had come to orgasm before. "What about it?"

  Indy gasped as I ground down harder. "I thought it wouldn't involve face to face. I expected you to say facedown or on my hands and knees."

  I really was crap at this hate-sex thing, wasn't I? Because of course that made perfect sense in terms of limiting the intimacy. Except it hadn't even crossed my mind. I could flip him over and pretend that had been my intention all along. But then I'd have to stop rubbing my cock against his and it felt way too good to do that. "How are you meant to know I'm glaring at you, if you can't see me?"

  Indy's hands slid down my arms, and along my back to grasp my ass. He used his grip to push our crotches even more tightly together, increasing the friction. "Oh, of course. I hadn't thought of that. I'd feel really guilty if I was oblivious to your hate, especially when"—he paused, squirming to shift position slightly, his cheeks flushed—"your hate feels so good."

  If I kept this up much longer, I was going to be back to the same problem I'd had earlier. I'd never come solely from frotting before, but I guessed there was always a first time for everything. I'd never had a partner who responded so beautifully before; Indy was all tight lean muscles, glistening skin, and full-body tremors. And that was before you took into account the little sighs, moans and gasps escaping from his mouth. He certainly didn't bother to try and hide his reactions.

  I forced myself to stop, squeezing a hand between our bodies to apply more lube. Then I shifted position, grasping my cock to align it with his hole. I couldn't wait to be inside him, to hear what noises he'd make then. I wanted to fuck him until he got loud. Really loud. Loud enough to drown out the background hum of conversation and music from the bar below. I'd barely touched him with the tip of my cock when he grabbed my wrist, stilling my forward motion.

  My gaze immediately flicked to his face. He raised an eyebrow. "Wow! You hate me that much?"