Page 77 of Tagging Bases

Before I can respond, he steps closer, cups my face in his hands, and presses his lips to mine. Fireworks explode behind my eyelids as I melt into the kiss. I wrap my arms around his waist and pull him flush against me. His tongue glides along the seam of my lips, seeking permission, and I eagerly grant it.

Harrison groans into my mouth, the sound sending shivers racing down my spine. I can feel him, hard and insistent, pressing into my hip. My erection surges in response, straining against the confines of my tuxedo pants.

Suddenly, Harrison pulls back, his lips red and kiss-swollen. His gaze drops to the obvious tent in my trousers. Without a word, he grabs my hand and tugs me down a less crowded side street. My heart pounds in anticipation as he leads me into a darkened alcove between two buildings, hidden from prying eyes.

Pushing me up against the rough brick, Harrison crashes his mouth back to mine in a bruising kiss. I whimper as his hands roam my body, sliding down my chest and abdomen before palming me through my pants.

“Need to feel you,” he pants against my lips.

Nimble fingers make quick work of my belt and zipper. Then he tugs my pants down to mid-thigh and wraps his hand around my aching cock. I gasp at the combined sensation of his slightly calloused palm dragging along my sensitive flesh and the cool night air.

Harrison sets a fast, almost punishing pace, stroking me from root to tip as he continues to kiss me. His thumb swipes over the weeping head on every upstroke, smearing the pearly drops of precome. I clutch his shoulders tightly as my legs threaten to give out.

The ministrations of his tight fist around my shaft and the teasing flicks to my slit have me hurtling toward release embarrassingly fast. And he knows it.

“That’s it, Charlie. Spill your load for me.”

His filthy words are my undoing. With a choked cry, I do as he says, my release splattering all over my shiny black dress shoes.

Harrison works me through the aftershocks, wringing every last drop from my spent cock. I slump boneless against the wall, chest heaving. He brings his hand to his mouth, and while holding my gaze, he laps the pearly-white fluid off his fingers.

“I can’t believe we did that in public.” As I tuck myself back into my pants, I glance down at my shoes and frown. “You don’t happen to have a napkin or something, do you?”

Harrison stares at me, his expression unreadable. “You’re not cleaning off your shoes, McManus.”

“But they’re covered in my cum,” I protest.

“I want everyone to see what I did to you.”

I blink at him, my brain working overtime to comprehend his request. He holds out his hand, the one he licked clean, and I take it without question.

As he guides me back out onto the city streets, I realize something.

I’m okay with doing something that wild and obscene. In fact, it’s making me hard all over again.

And this time, I didn’t even have to be dared into doing it.

Chapter 27

Watch Out for the Chicken Shit

Harrison

The familiar scentof acrylic paint and linseed oil wraps around me as I settle into my cluttered workspace at the gallery. Sunlight streams through the expansive windows, casting a warm glow across the abstract paintings. My fingers tap out responses to the endless string of emails—inquiries about upcoming exhibitions, requests for private viewings, and the occasional aspiring artist seeking representation.

Lost in the rhythm of my work, I barely notice when Danielle flits into the gallery, a whirlwind of color and energy. Her hair is piled high atop her head, held in place by what appears to be a set of paintbrushes. She’s wearing a patchwork dress that has been stitched together from the remnants of a dozen different thrift store finds. Perched on her nose are her signature pink cat-eye glasses, completing the picture of artistic eccentricity.

“Harrison, my darling!” she exclaims the second she sees me. “How’s my favorite assistant doing today?”

I chuckle at her cheeriness. “I’m doing great, Danielle. Just trying to stay on top of all these emails.”

She nods sagely, her expression turning momentarily serious. “The never-ending battle of the inbox. I know it well.” Then, just as quickly, her face lights back up. “But enough about work! Tellme, how are things going with those delightful baseball player friends of yours? Charlie and Daniel, right?”

A blush creeps up my neck as I tell her about Charlie and Daniel and the incredible journey we’ve been on together. Her eyes widen with every detail, even the naughty ones. “…which leads me to a request.”

“Oh?”

“I was hoping to take some time off next weekend for Charlie’s mom’s birthday.”

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