Page 55 of Fire & Ice

“You!” Tripp gasps out, “Yours! Oh, God,yes, Lee!I’m yours, Lee!”

“You’re damn right,” Leander replies, picking up the pace with his hips and chasing his own orgasm, tempting and powerful on the horizon. He’d love to yank Tripp’s thigh up, really bend him over and push his head down onto the counter, but they’re limited by the constraints of Tripp’s jeans, so what he has will have to do.

He settles for twisting a hand into the knot of Tripp’s rucked-up shirt, admiring the way he appears mostly nakeddespite all of his clothing still technically being on. As his peak approaches, fueled by Tripp’s gorgeous little noises and moans beneath him, Leander fucks him hard straight through it: no warning, no mercy.

He’s so overcome by pleasure and the sight of Tripp totally wrecked in the mirror, that Leander barely reacts when the door to the bathroom clicks open andSuzyis standing there, her lipstick-painted mouth frozen in a perfect “O”.

It’s ludicrous and delicious, and Leander loves every second of watching her react and flee. He’s never laughed his way through an orgasm until now, but there’s a first time for everything. At the very least, Leander still has the presence of mind to grab the base of Tripp’s cock and stop him from coming, since by the sound of it, he was working up to a pretty amazing finish.

As soon as he’s milked himself dry in Tripp’s assandhe’s sure that releasing Tripp’s dick won’t result in anything besides raging disappointment, Leander pulls out and replaces his cock with the plug. Meanwhile, Tripp catches on, all too quick to start crying and begging, pleading his case.

“No, no, no, Lee, please,pleaselet me come,” he sobs into his folded arms, awkwardly still bent over the counter next to the sink.

Since Tripp is in no state to do so—and they’ll be in here all night if they wait until he is—Leander rights Tripp’s underwear and jeans, buttoning them up and turning him around to cradle him in his arms. Tripp’s still-hard cock strains against the unforgiving material of his pants and he looks positivelydestroyed,just how Leander likes him.

“Lee,” he whines, as Leander kisses the side of his neck, his jaw, and finally, his lips. “This is so cruel.”

“Oh, baby,” Leander soothes, flashing a devious grin as his palm caresses softly down the side of Tripp’s face. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

As he’s leading a reluctant (but no longer mopey, surprisingly) Tripp back out onto the club floor, Tripp seems to abruptly remember the details of what happened in the bathroom. He stops Leander with a hand on his chest, looking horrified. “Please tell me I imagined Suzy walking in on us,” he says, eyes wide, and when Leander simply grins in return, slaps a hand over his mouth. “Jesus Christ. What a way to out yourself to an ex.”

“I thought it was spectacular,” Leander tells him, resuming their walk back to the table. “Now weallknow who you belong to.”

As he not-so-subtly adjusts his pants, Tripp snorts. “Yeah listen, I’m into this, but if it’s all the same to you, let’s not repeat that display with Christian. Dude already hates me enough for one lifetime.”

Leander snorts derisively but doesn’t promise anything. Truthfully, he’d appreciate the loosest excuse to rearrange Tripp’s cousin’s features, although part of him suspects that the man really only hates himself. Tripp is simply a convenient target, someone who reminds him of all the things he wants but is too damn cowardly to reach out and take.

“We’ll see,” is what he settles on saying aloud, releasing Tripp’s hand so that he can drag over a chair and motion for Tripp to sit in it. He does, albeit with a wary eyebrow raised, like he’s just catching on that Leander still has some major tricks up his sleeve regarding the rest of their night.

“Welcome back,” Marley says smugly from her place on the bench seat Tripp was occupying earlier. To Marley’s right,Ro is tipping the last of her beer out of the glass and into her mouth, and barely-legal Sandy is essentially smushed into the wall on her other side. He doesn’t look as if he minds, though, glitter and a bright smudge of lipstick visible on one rosy cheek, the hazy glow of alcohol glazing his eyes.

“Another round!” Ro yells, haphazardly flagging down a waitress by waving her empty glass around in the air. Across the table, Beau and Bri are still busy with each other, and Leander doubts they even realize that he left and was replaced.

“Alright,” Leander begins, clearing his throat as he looks around and beckons for the first unoccupied stripper he sees to come over to their group. He’s already aware that the no-touching rule at this club can seemingly be bent at the dancer’s discretion, courtesy of Tripp’s ex’s display and possibly Sandy’s cheek, but a quick conversation with the lovely girl he’s engaged confirms that’s the case.

Stepping to the side so that Tripp can’t overhear, Leander holds a brief but pointed discussion with his new friend about what he would like and what he expects from the house before handing over averylarge wad of cash.

With a knowing wink, the girl agrees and disappears, promising to be return shortly, and Leander thanks her with a smile. Turning back to the group, they’ve all barely even noticed his distraction, probably assuming he’s just doing what normal men do at a strip club and enjoying the talent. In a way, that’s true.

Bending down, Leander places his lips adjacent to Tripp’s ear so that only he can hear when he says, “Remember, you are not to come tonight until you have my permission. Will that be a problem?”

Tripp makes a dismissive noise. “I’ve got it under control, Lee, thanks,” he replies, patting his crotch. “System standby, I think I’ll make it.”

“Sarcasm doesn’t become you,” Leander murmurs before he pulls back, catching the eye of the dancer as she approaches again, a friend by her side. Hiding his smile, Leander moves a chair so that it’s almost perpendicular to Tripp’s, his left knee nearly touching Tripp’s right, but not quite. They’re in perfect line of sight to each other, which is exactly what Leander wants.

“You wanted a lap dance?” Leander asks casually, conversationally. “You’ve got it.”

Before Tripp can protest, the recruited dancer is straddling his lap, grinding down on him. She’s good, Leander can tell from where he’s sitting. Just the right kind of pressure, just enough tease and torment. While she gyrates in Tripp’s lap, her friend waits patiently nearby, and after fifteen or so minutes, the girl gets up and Tripp looks abjectly relieved, flushed and adjusting himself where he sits, clearly thinking that he’s survived.

Unfortunately for Tripp, this torture session is far from over. The girl that’s waiting in the wings takes the previous one’s place in Tripp’s lap, and this one is topless. Now, Leander may be jealous, but he’s not an idiot. He knows that Tripp is attracted to him, has zero insecurities about what he offers and what Tripp needs in the bedroom. On the other hand, he’s known Tripp for many years, and the manenjoyslooking at women, especially naked women. It’s just a fact, and in this situation, Leander’s wielding that attraction like a weapon.

It’s a beautiful thing to witness.

Seated catty-corner to Tripp, Leander laughs—he can’t help it, Tripp’s face just lookssopained. As he watches theendless lap dance progress, something hits him softly in the side of his head before tumbling into his lap. It’s a wadded-up napkin, and its wielder is Marley, who’s looking over at him rather incredulously.

“Baller,” she says, nodding in Tripp’s direction with what seems like awe. “Mad respect. Didn’t know you had it in you.”

“You’d be surprised what I have in me,” Leander replies evenly, shooting her what he knows is a devilish smirk. A waitress stops to drop off their refill pitcher, and Leander accepts the glass of beer Ro offers with thanks. He sips it, the crisp, cold liquid immensely satisfying gliding down his throat after the last hour’s activities.

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