Page 166 of King of Pain
“Well, I’m excited to start planning,” Liz says, pulling us out of that little moment. “I need to get back to work boys, but it was great meeting you, Anthony. I hope to see you here often.”
Ant smiles and shakes her hand. “Thank you, Liz. You can count on it.”
Liz turns on her heels, head already buried in her phone, and makes a beeline to her office.
“You gonna give me the tour, art stud?” Ant asks as soon as she’s gone.
I huff a laugh and press a soft kiss to his lips. “Yeah, okay.”
I show Ant around the gallery and watch the way his eyes soften as he sees where I’m working. He takes it all in, absorbing the layout, and he listens as I tell him the ideas I had for the upcoming graffiti artist exhibit that Liz is incorporating.
As I finish showing him around, I’m hit with the nostalgia of the first time we met, Ant showing me around Devil Records. The memory plays in my mind like a favorite song. The melody seeps into my chest, the rhythm thumping in time with the beat of my heart. I can’t believe I’m here with him. I never thought I’d get to hear this song again.
I snap out of my thoughts and Ant is looking at me with a mix of affection and awe.
Yeah, we need to go. “I want you to stay again tonight,” I say.
Ant frowns. “I can’t leave Little G with Lexi another night.”
“Then let’s get him,” I offer, already reaching for my phone.
A few minutes later, we’re back in the SUV, and I’m texting Lexi to bring Little G to the condo. The ride is mostly quiet after that, except for the scratch of jeans against leather seats as I squirm under Ant’s fingertips slowly trailing up and down my thigh. I try to stay cool, to not combust under the heat of his touch, but he’s relentless. Each stroke creeps higher, his thumb brushing closer and closer to my groin. I turn and look out the window, willing myself not to moan.
By the time we pull up in front of my condo, I’m hanging on by a thread.
Deacon shifts into park, and Ant hops out, tugging me with him, laughing as he yanks me along the sidewalk like a kiddragging a balloon on a string. I glance over my shoulder, grinning as I wave Deacon off.
The second we’re inside the condo, Ant’s hands are on my chest, pushing me back toward the kitchen.
“You good?” I ask, breath hitching.
He doesn't answer with words—just crowds into my space, his fingers curling into the hem of my shirt. I’m sandwiched between him and the countertop; his body pressed firmly against mine. Then he rubs his scruff against mine and nips at my jaw.
“Liz called me your muse,” he murmurs, lips now hovering a whisper away from mine.
I press my forehead to his. “She said the intensity of my feelings for you shines through in every piece. She said it’s the reason people will stop and feel something.”
Ant slides his hands up under my shirt, palms flat against my skin. “You want to know what I’m feeling right now?”
I nod and his mouth crashes into mine, kissing me—hard and needy.
He breaks the kiss, his chest heaving, eyes wild.
Then he drops to his knees.
Gay gods give me strength.
“Ant, it’s okay if you’re not ready—” I start, but he cuts me off with a look.
“I need to taste you.”
I can’t even form words before he’s working my jeans open and yanking them down my thighs. He stares at my growing bulge and grips me through the material of my boxer briefs. The man has the absolute gall to look up at me and lick his lips.
It’s the sexiest thing ever.
With only minimal struggle to get them over my ass, Ant yanks my boxer briefs down. He stares at my cock and wraps his hand around me.
It’s filthy.
