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Just saying he’s a bit playful is all. And a good kisser.
Stop! We are not spending time thinking about that kiss.
Scared?
No, of course not. This is asinine!
Amazing. I was now arguing with myself over the scamp.
My pulse tripled when I saw Philip at their side wearing shorts, sandals, and a black ballcap with Tarcy’s famous 66 on the front. He looked windblown, slightly red from the sun, and scruffy. Did the man not own a razor that went to the skin?
“…love to add the dock and the wine tour to the site upon completion. It’s a small fee for business owners to be included in the publicity campaigns that we run as you know.”
“Yes,” I distractedly replied, my sight locked on the man with the sparkling eyes and cocky strut as Philip threw back his head and roared at something one of his admirers had said. A rather voluptuous brunette in a form-fitting yellow dress that seemed to be pop-riveted to Philip’s side. Ugh, what a tacky display. Surely she did not need to cling to him as if he might disappear. And why must she press her substantial breasts into his arm? This was not the place for such displays. The Gaudion tent was family friendly, even though there were no children allowed. “Excuse me,” I said to the man, trying his best to sell me more advertising space. “I see a situation.”
Philip’s dark gaze met mine and held it as I approached. His nose crinkled, making the thin silver ring rise up just a bit. I couldn’t tell if the expression he was wearing was one of distaste or apprehension. Not that it mattered in the least. Surely he didn’t find me distasteful? His kiss in the garage said otherwise. Not that it mattered in the very least.
You’re repeating yourself.
I am not. Only ninnies repeat themselves.
Whatever you say.
I was growing to hate my inner voice.
“Hey, Henry,” Philip said as soon as I got within speaking range. The sparkle in his eye as he mispronounced my name infuriated me. The man was like a lingering cold sore. “Nice digs. I’m not much of a wine guy, but this here sweet ice wine is really good.”
“Thank you, Mr. Greco.” I nodded at the others in the pod, including the brunette who was eyeing me as if I were one of the dishes on the buffet table. She was not only barking up the wrong tree, but the young lady was in the wrong forest. While I loved women and could admire their beauty, they did nothing for me sexually. I liked men. Unlike several of the Gladiators in the queer squad who were bi or pan. I was gay all the way. “I wonder if I could have a private word with you?”
Philip gave his friends a quick smile and then removed the brunette’s hand from his arm. It was rather like trying to pry a nervous cat from one’s clothing. Finally, he managed to wrest his arm free, then fell in behind me as I stalked to the side door of the tent and into the small area in the rear, stepping out into the heat and noise. Two large catering vans were parked on the green, servers bustling back and forth to carry the food prepared in the kitchens of Claude & Maxim’s, one of my favorite eateries in the county. They carried fresh fish caught in Seneca Lake and the chef, a rather handsome man from the south of France, was an old friend of Papa’s who could do things with lake trout that made the angels weep. I saw no sign of Claude or his partner Maxim, but they were around I was sure.
I led Philip to a small gap between the backside of the Gaudion tent and one of several portable air conditioning units pumping cool air into the VIP tent behind us.
“Loud out here,” Philip yelled as I spun to face him. Yes, it was noisy. With the sounds of the crowds, a few race cars revving their engines, the shouts of catering staff, and the air conditioners, I’d not been able to think of a more private place. “Must be something big stuck in your craw for you to drag me outside. You’re sweating through your fancy silk shirt already.”
I opted not to glance down at my sweaty pits. “There are no things stuck in my craw. I’m simply pulling you aside, out of range of large ears, to inform you that we do not allow mature acts of flirtation to take place in the Gaudion Winery tent.” He gaped up at me. “Did you not hear me?”
“No, no, I heard you. I’m just wondering why you yanked my ass outside to talk about mature flirting or whatever you called it when Carson and Criswell were patting fannies just a few minutes ago.” He placed a dish of shrimp on top of a humming cooling machine, then folded his arms over his chest, his face falling into that “come at me” look he wore so well on the ice. Then something flashed behind those mischievous eyes of his. One side of his mouth twitched. “Or maybe you brought me out here to scold me because you’re jealous.”
I gasped and then snorted. “Please, do not flatter yourself, Philip. Why would I be jealous of a woman on your arm? I do not even like you.”
A flash of something close to pain appeared in his gaze, then it was gone. “Well, I don’t like you either, so we’re even steven.”
“Good. I am glad we are stevens. Please inform your girlfriend to keep her bosom on her side of the…world.” What on earth was I even saying? Philip studied me in confusion. “Table. World. Where a person with a bosom keeps it when they do not wish to appear to be using it to…entice.”
“What if I like her bosom on my side of the world?” he asked with the innocence of a wee child. A ruse that I did not buy for a moment but incited some sort of madness in my brain. Like a fever brought on by a mosquito bite. Only this one didn’t make me sleepy. It made me rabid. Not wholly prepared for the emotions that roared to life thinking of Philip and that busty woman on the same side of the world, I tried to speak but only a gruff sort of sound escaped. “Shit, Henry,” he mouthed, his lips too wet and enticing to ignore.
I swooped down like a bird of prey, only my prey was not moving to escape, it was reaching for me. His fingers dug into my hair, his grip strong, as he led my mouth to his. A humming sound moved from him and into me, making my cock hard instantly. My hands moved to his ass as if they were programmed to be there, and I squeezed the round orbs firmly. My tongue knotted with his, purrs and groans melded as we stumbled in reverse to find something firm to rest upon. Sadly, we miscalculated the large, loud AC unit attached to a long white hose that ran from the unit to the tent. His heels caught on the hose, I assumed. My sight was not entirely on where we were placing our feet. Actually, my eyes were closed as I plundered his sassy mouth.
He grunted into my mouth. I sighed in pleasure and began to fall forward. There was no stopping the descent. We fell into the side of the tent, pulling the zippered panels apart with our weight as we tumbled into the Gaudion Winery enclosure still wrapped around each other like two wrestling squids. He hit the ground first. I fell on top of him and utter silence fell upon those in my family friendly tent.
It took a moment for us to get unwound, my face flaming hot as I rolled to my ass, glaring at the grass stains on my hands and the knees of my slacks, and glanced around at the people staring down at the two of us.
“Did he have a shrimp stuck in his throat and only your tongue could get it free?” Carson asked as he tried his best not to laugh. A few guffaws erupted. Barnaby hurried through the crowds, tutting at the people who were not offering aid, and tugged me to my feet.
“We were discussing appropriate behavior in this tent,” I responded with all the refinement Mama would have expected. Sadly, that was not much at the moment. I straightened my belt, took my sunglasses from Barnaby, and shot a glance at Philip.
“That was a display of what not to do in terms of appropriate behavior, kids,” Philip joshed as Baskoro offered him a hand to help him up. Everyone chuckled. The young lady with the impressive bosom and dark hair did not look at either of us with so much appreciation now.
