Page 48 of Oz
David looks a little pale, which is normal when Oz is on a rampage, but to his credit he rallies. “You couldn’t hope to understand what you’re doing. Listen to you speak.” He laughs. “Someone with your accent couldn’t hope to understand the demands and needs of a house like that.” He turns to me. “Where did you pick this one up? Did you abandon The Lady this time and just cruise King’s Cross?”
I step forward with my fists curled but Oz, incredibly, laughs. “Mate, a hooker could do better than you at your job.” He shakes his head. “Even Chewwy could do it better.” I grin, and he smiles at me before turning to David. “You had a good bloke here and just because he wanted you to get out of bed and do the job he was paying you for, you fucked off.” He shakes his head. “If you ask me, you could teach the girls and boys at King’s Cross a thing or two about prostitution.” He looks searchingly at David. “I maynot have your upbringing and it may make me very common, but if I care for someone I make them happy. I don’t take money from them and fuck them over when an easier job comes along. I cling on in the rough seas as well as the calm waters because I’m loyal. You should look that word up in a dictionary. They obviously didn’t teach you it at public school.”
David flushes. “And where did you go to school, Oz, or did you even bother?”
Oz nods and smirks. “You’re so right. I never went to school. My first in a Fine Art and History of Art degree is an example of skiving at its best.”
“What did you get, David?” I ask. It’s unbecoming to be spiteful but I can’t help it. “Wasn’t it a third?”
David glares at me. “Good luck with this one,” he says with a smirk. “Just count the silver before he goes.”
“You’d be better employed doing that,” Oz says sharply. “The cutlery on the dining table is fake. It’s proper tat.”
“It is not.”
“It is. You couldn’t give that shit away in a cracker.”
“And on that note, we’re going to complete our tour,” I say smoothly, becoming fed up of this. I hold my hand out to Oz and see David’s brow furrow as Oz smiles and complies.
“You’rereallywith him?” he says in a tone of disbelief. “Your father would turn over in his bloody grave.”
“I look on my father as an arbiter of taste,” I say coldly. “If he liked someone I instantly knew that person was a total cunt.” I pause and look him up and down. “He’d have really loved you, David.”
We sweep out of the room and Oz starts to laugh. He bounces up and down on his feet and does a quick dip and feint with his fists. “Did you see his face? Pop, pop, you told him.”
I shake my head and look around quickly. Spotting a door whose opening is barred by a red rope, I hop over and open thedoor and then reach back and grab Oz. He comes easily like he’s my partner in crime, his eyes wide and his smile wicked.
“We’re not supposed to do this. I bet David put this rope up himself specially. Whatever are you doing, Lord Ashworth?”
I pull us through and we find ourselves in what I’m sure is Alexander’s private drawing room. I cast a cursory glance around to check for observers, and when I don’t find anyone I slam the door and push Oz up against it. “This,” I say gutturally and take his mouth. He tastes of mint and seems to melt into me like butter, his whole body moving sleekly as he falls into me.
I kiss him hard, rubbing my tongue over his and mauling his mouth. His breaths puff against my cheek and he moans deep in his throat.
I pull away, ignoring his grunted protest, and frame his face in my hands. I look at his swollen lips and pretty eyes that are lazy with heat and lust. “You annihilated him,” I gasp. “So hot!”
He stares up at me and grins widely. “My being sharp-tongued turns you on.” He laughs. “Oh my God, this is epic. You’re going to be hard most of the day and night.” He looks upward to the ceiling as if searching for inspiration before grinning wickedly at me. “Well, I’ve created this problem. Never let it be said that Oz Gallagher doesn’t clear up his own messes.”
“What–” I start to say but it dies away to a groan as he lowers himself gracefully to his knees in front of me and reaches for my belt. “What is–” I stop and clear my throat. “Oz, I’m not sure this is the right place for this.”
He looks up, and he would appear angelic if he didn’t have such an evil expression. “On the contrary, this is the perfect place for it.”
He unbuckles my belt and nimbly unzips my jeans. “Oh well,” I say faintly. “Never let it be said that I get in the way of a workman.”
“You know what they say,” he mutters, grinning. “A good workman loves his tool.”
“That’s not what they–” I start to say but my words die away to a moan as he reaches in and draws out my cock and licks up the length of it.Oh shit.
Oz looks up, his eyes so blue in the light that they seem to shine. I reach my hand down and tangle it in his hair, feeling the silky waves run through my fingers. He waits, his mouth open and a wicked sparkle daring me to go further. He doesn’t wait long.
Fisting my cock, I drag my hand down my length, drawing out a fat drop of pre-come. Then I rub the tip of my cock on his lower lip, seeing it glisten and shine before he moans under his breath and takes me down the back of his throat.
“Motherfucker,” I hiss, arching my back and banging my head into the wall at the feel of that hot, tight grip on my cock.
He pulls off slowly, letting me feel my cock bathed in that wet tunnel, before he levers up from his knees and grabs my shoulders, taking my mouth in a hot kiss. I taste the tart tang of my pre-come on his tongue and grab the back of his head to keep him there as I tongue his mouth. I breathe hard through my nose, feeling him writhe against me, his cock a solid, rock-hard length against my hip.
He pulls away and kisses my neck with soft, suckling kisses, detouring to the lobe of my ear where he plays, making me fist my hand in my mouth to stop myself from shouting out. I shudder and grunt as the delicate kisses send cold shivers down my spine and my cock throbs wetly in the cool air between us.
His hands go down the back of my jeans, grabbing my arse cheeks in his callused hands and beginning to rub his groin against me, canting his hips and groaning.
