Page 47 of Copper Script
“Fine.It’s good.”
Aaron’s fingers moved again.He had big hands, capable ones.He eased the first strap very gently through the buckle, a slow unfastening.He eased the strap loose, sliding a finger underneath it, and Joel let out an involuntary whimper.
“Joel?”
“No, that’s—that’s good.Definitely.”
There was nothing erotic about the prosthetic.There was everything erotic about Aaron’s silent concentration, his hands on Joel’s skin, carefully tending to every strap and buckle in turn.Joel breathed through it, enjoying each loosening, and found himself almost sorry there were only four.
He pulled the prosthetic’s cup off his stump, and tossed it onto the table.He didn’t quite want to see whether Aaron was looking at the stump or avoiding doing so.
“Better?”
“Less likely to snag, anyway.”He pushed the rucked-up shirtsleeve down again.“I might keep my shirt on, though.For now.”
Aaron cupped the back of his head, tugging him over so they were body to body again.“Whatever makes you comfortable.”
“On which subject,” Joel said, slipping his hand round Aaron’s arse again, tilting his hips.“Shall we both get rather more comfortable?”
He felt breath ruffle his hair.“I would like that, but—ugh.I think you probably realise I don’t have a lot of experience.Certainly not as much as you.”
“Are you insinuating something, Detective Sergeant?”Joel enquired, mock-huffily.
“Habitual bad character?”
“Yeah, fair enough.”He very much wanted to pop Aaron Fowler’s cork for him.The question was how to go about that, and he suspected Aaron wouldn’t be much use at saying what he wanted, if he even knew himself.
Then again, those careful hands on the buckles...
“Well,” he said.“Turnabout is fair play, right?”
“Yes?”Aaron said cautiously.
“Then I think I deserve a policeman sucking my cock.”
Aaron inhaled sharply.There was a silence long enough for Joel to conclude without reservation that he’d got it horrifically wrong.Then Aaron’s hands dropped to Joel’s waistband, one on the button, one splaying over his erection, and he nearly collapsed in relief.
“I dare say you’re entitled to that,” Aaron said.“In a spirit of justice.”He moved the braces off Joel’s shoulders with his right hand, one at a time, keeping the other firmly pressed against Joel’s prick.“God.Here?”
Joel propped his arse against the table.“Right here.”
Aaron shut his eyes.Then he went to his knees, and Joel thought he might come there and then.
He reached out, running his hand lightly over Aaron’s face.The shudder he got made him do it again, then more firmly, sliding his fingers over ear and jaw and finally lips, which parted for him.He slipped the end of his finger in, just a little, and felt the cautious touch of Aaron’s tongue.
“Oh Jesus,” he said.“You’re going to be wonderful.”
Aaron made a noise, a little moan.Joel was finding it hard to think.He suspected that breathing and staying upright were about to pose their own challenges.
“Touch me,” he rasped.
Aaron moved silently, easing the cloth of Joel’s opened trousers out of the way, loosening his drawers and pushing them down, letting his hard-on loose.He exhaled, the breath ruffling Joel’s groin, and ran a very light finger across a tangle of hair.“Red.”
“The carpet matches the curtains.”
“It’s beautiful.”
That wasn’t what most people said about ginger pubic hair, but whatever smart-alec reply Joel might have made was lost as Aaron gently circled his prick with a thumb and finger.“God!”
