Written Request
Series: Pushing The Envelope (Book 3)
Genre: Male/Male, BDSM, Erotic Romance
Length: Amber Kiss - Short Story (8,000 words)
Publisher: Amber Allure
Blurb:
Some requests are easier to put down on paper than they are to say out loud to someone face to face. Especially if the man asking for something is someone like Scott—who can barely speak to Joe without blushing, stammering or generally making an idiot of himself.
Scott knows what he wants. He knows that the only way to get it is to come right out and ask Joe for it. Now, that he’s finally desperate enough to make his request in writing, all he can do is hope Joe agrees…
Excerpt:
Now, wasn’t that a bloody fantastic sight to come home to? A little of Joe’s exhaustion faded away as he paused at the end of the corridor leading to his flat and smiled to himself.
The man bent over in front of Joe’s door slowly straightened up, but that didn’t matter now. Joe had already had plenty of time to admire the way Scott’s faded blue jeans stretched across his arse. The image was now indelibly etched into his brain—just one more picture of Scott for him to treasure on those cold, boring nights when he had nothing more than his own right hand to keep his cock warm and happy.
Scott took a step back from the door before finally turning around. If he’d been a cat rather than a submissive, he’d have only had eight lives to play with after spotting Joe. The guy’s feet actually left the floor as he jerked with surprise.
“What are you…?” Scott began.
“What are you doing here?” Joe finished for him. “Isn’t that my line?”
Scott merely blinked in confusion as each long, lazy step Joe took brought them closer together.
“This is where I live, after all,” Joe mused.
“I…um…”
Joe’s smile became more crooked. A strangely protective desire to rescue the younger man from his embarrassment collided with the simple pleasure to be had in watching him squirm.
The submissive’s cheeks became flushed. Ducking his head, he glanced up at Joe through his lashes. That was it. Eventually, it became obvious to Joe that Scott had no intention of trying to speak up again.
The rescuer in Joe won out. He extended a hand.
Scott merely stared at it as if he’d never seen fingers or palm before.
“I assume that you have an envelope for me,” Joe hinted.
“I…” Scott looked over his shoulder.
Joe followed his gaze to the small gap beneath the door leading into his flat. Stepping around the other man, Joe deftly unlocked his door and picked up the small white envelope that had been pushed beneath it.
Scott shoved his hands deep into his pockets. If his jeans had been a little looser, he might have pushed them down to his knees in his rush to try to hide his nerves behind the denim. No such luck. Scott’s trainers squeaked against the wooden floorboards as he shuffled his feet.
“That’s enough,” Joe said, as he turned back to him. “Stop fidgeting, now.”
Scott froze.
Joe gave a nod of approval as he ripped opened the envelope and took out the carefully folded piece of note paper.
——
If you don’t mind, I’d really like to see you naked, please.
——
As polite as the note was, Joe didn’t chuckle. He didn’t even allow himself to crack a smile. He ran his eyes over the neatly written words one more time. The please was a nice touch. It was a very Scott-like touch.
“If you’d rather—” Scott began.
“Be outside your house at ten o’clock tonight,” Joe cut in. “And make sure you’re wearing boots.”
“Boots? Um…okay?” Scott hazarded.
Joe put the envelope and the note into his pocket, stepped into his flat and closed the door behind him. The hinge had barely stilled before he was peering through the peephole, checking on Scott’s reaction.
The submissive stared at Joe’s front door for a several long seconds as if in disbelief. It was impossible to tell if he was shocked to actually get a third date, or if he couldn’t believe that he’d actually been left on the doorstep rather than invited in.
As Joe watched, Scott pressed the heel of his palm against his crotch through his jeans. Whatever he was thinking, it was apparently as hot as hell. Even with the distortion of the peephole, the line of his erection was clearly visible.
Nodding contentedly to himself at a job well done, Joe turned away from the door and wandered toward his bed. He set his alarm to make sure he woke up in time for their date and lay down, still wearing the same clothes he’d worn for a double shift in the bar. He was asleep almost before his head hit the pillow. In his dreams, there were no jeans blocking his view of Scott’s arse.