Riddles

A series of naughty scenes

by Emily Brunson

(c)2002

IV.

Easily beaten,
Never free,
I drive men mad
For love of me.

"Shut up."

Gil reined in his smile and kept his eyes trained forward. He didn’t have to look. Nick’s shocked expression was there in the prim hiss of his words.

"Why?" Gil asked, voice pitched just loud enough to carry. "Scared?"

He felt it when Nick flinched. "No," Nick whispered angrily. "But -- But –"

"Spread your legs."

This time Nick did more than flinch; he outright jumped. Might have been the words. Might also have been Gil’s hand on his thigh, under the table. "What?"

"You’re hard, aren’t you? Right here in the middle of all these people. Show me."

When he met Nick’s eyes he almost heard the sizzle. All that honest shock, and alongside it, a flare of baking heat. Nick drew a deep breath. "You gotta be shitting me," he muttered in a hoarse voice.

Gil regarded him impassively. "Do it."

"You fucker." But Nick leaned back in his chair and let his legs part, and yes, he was hard. Christ, he was –

"Want me to fuck you?" Gil asked conversationally, smiling at someone two tables away.

Nick made a strangled sound and his hips arched up just a fraction.

"I think you do." Gil cupped his hand over Nick’s erection, keeping the smile. "I think you want it so bad you can practically feel it right now, can’t you?"

"Stop it," Nick grated. "They’re about to make a speech."

"It’s a retirement party. There’ll be lots of speeches. Unzip your pants."

Nick gave him a furious look, and Gil shook his head, grinning. "Don’t lose the game face, honey," he murmured. "People might be watching."

"Bastard." But Nick sat up and faced forward, and even put a smile on his own face, even if to Gil’s eyes it was less than absolutely carefree.

"Better. Now do what I told you."

Nick’s clenched jaw twitched. His hands touched Gil’s, danced away, returned. He made another funny noise when he unzipped his trousers.

"That’s it," Gil whispered, and had to fight for a second to keep his own face neutral. Nick’s cock was hot and heavy in his hand, silky skin throbbing. Gil squeezed a fraction, and heard Nick draw a harsh eager breath. "I could make you come right here," Gil added, running his thumb down to the crown, rubbing it over the slit. "Think you could do that and not make a sound?"

"Don’t," Nick said throatily, and swallowed. "Jesus."

"Want me to stop?"

"Yes, goddamn it."

"Don’t lie to me. Do you want me to stop?"

A beat. "What do YOU think?" in an angrily petulant voice.

Gil grinned again. "I think you’re just about ready."

"What –"

"Zip your pants back up."

Nick’s jaw popped. "I can’t," he hissed furiously.

"You better, because we’re about to stand up."

In truth he wasn’t sure if he could, either, since his own dick was getting into the act as well. But he smirked at Nick’s aghast look. "It’s gonna SHOW!"

"Yes," Gil said calmly, nodding. "It is. And moreso if you don’t tuck it away first."

"Fuck you," Nick whispered, and made a garbled sound while he forced his cock back inside his pants. A slow drop of sweat made it down his clenched jaw.

The room was pretty much filled with drunk people, anyway, but it gave Gil a flare of dark glee to see how flushed Nick’s face was as he pushed himself back from the table. His suit coat gave him a modicum of decency, but it only took a somewhat closer look to see his trousers tented in front.

Beautiful.

Gil smiled at the people at their table as he stood up. If anyone else from CSI were here, he doubted even he would have had the nerve do pull something like this. But Gil himself was the only one who’d been around long enough to have known Joe Kuykendahl. Joe headed over to Municipal even before Catherine joined the team. So Gil was the only one to be invited to Joe’s belated retirement party, and so no one they worked with on a daily basis was around to see Nick get led around by the balls.

The thought made Gil’s dick sit up a little straighter, and he drew a deep breath. Not just yet. Soon, but not yet.

He watched Nick starting to button his coat, and caught his arm. "No, no, no. No covering up."

Nick gave him a muleish look, and stopped. Which made Gil’s skin tingle. "You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?"

"Immensely," Gil agreed. "Onward."

And honestly, it wasn’t as if entire tablefuls of conversations were drying up while people took in Nick walking by with a hard-on. In fact he’d be surprised if a single person noticed, much less cared. But it was the effect it had on Nick that fired him. And that Nick did it when he so clearly didn’t want to.

THAT, now. That was lovely.

At the exit he took Nick’s elbow and steered him smoothly. "Where are we going?" Nick asked, in a voice that was now more impatient lust than anxiety.

"Where would you like to go?"

"Home would be a good start."

Gil smiled and shook his head. "That’s not where we’re going." He nodded at a vaguely familiar face in the lobby and pushed Nick in the direction of the left hallway.

It was old habit to scope out places when he first walked in. Just taking in the environs, making sure no suspects were still on the premises, checking out possible hiding places so there were no nasty surprises waiting for him when his guard was down. And even if tonight was a social occasion instead of work, well, you never knew when knowing where you were might come in handy.

As it did, now.

"What the fuck?" Nick said in the grandmotherly-prim voice that so amused Gil. So funny, when Nick was so very much not virtuous in any way, shape, or form.

"Just keep walking."

Nick bumped an umbrella with his hip and flinched. "This is a -- What IS this place?"

Gil darted a glance to all sides and followed him. "A cloakroom. Used to be the hat-check room when men actually wore hats."

"What, they wear cloaks now?" Nick shot back, which made Gil laugh, too. "What are we DOING here?"

Gil gave him a little push, nothing major, just enough to bring Nick up short against the back wall. Gil leaned into him, mashing him against the wallpaper. "We’re gonna fuck," he said softly, and kissed him.

Nick kissed back for a second, and then went rigid. His eyes were enormous and black with shock. "HERE?"

"We did it in the lab the first time." Gil leaned against him and pressed a hot kiss to the angle of Nick’s strong jaw. "What’s so new about it?"

"There are PEOPLE here, for god’s sake! Like, two feet away!"

"With a wall between us," Gil agreed. "Take off your clothes."

"N- No!"

Gil moved back enough to get his hand between Nick’s legs. "You saying you don’t want it?" he asked silkily, giving Nick a gentle squeeze.

Nick’s eyes narrowed. "You saying you’re gonna give me what I want?" he retorted, tongue slipping out to wet his lips. "Right here in front of God and everyone?"

"Oh, all you want and more."

Nick leaned forward and kissed him hard, sucking Gil’s lower lip between his teeth and biting down. "Don’t start what you can’t finish," he hissed.

"Never." Gil met his hard glare steadily.

Nick’s hands shook when he reached up to unbutton his shirt, but he didn’t break the eye contact. "They’re gonna hear us," he said, baring pebbly hard nipples as he pulled shirt and jacket off in one fast yank. His teeth showed in a fast, nasty grin. "You okay with that?"

"I can be quiet when I have to be. Can you?"

"Try me and see."

Gil slapped Nick’s hands away from his belt and grinned. "Doing it." He unbuckled Nick’s belt and worked at his pants. "You like this, don’t you?" he added, unzipping Nick’s pants.

"Just can’t keep your hands off me, can you?" Nick shot back. He arched his back and drew a noisy breath when Gil shucked his pants down past his hips. "Shit."

He did a thorough job, although the sight of Nick’s erect cock bobbing a few inches from his face made him wrestle a little more with Nick’s shoes than was absolutely necessary. And then Nick didn’t have anything on at all, as naked as the day was long, and Gil sat back on his heels for a second and sucked in a deep breath, because Nick naked in a room full of coats and umbrellas and shopping bags was shocking, and nasty, and so erotic Gil noticed his own hands starting to tremble just a little bit, too.

He met Nick’s fiery gaze as he stood up, and said, "Get me ready."

Nick twitched a hot little smile and knelt obediently. "Yes SIR," he whispered.

Gil had to brace himself on the wall when Nick got his pants undone. And the way it looked when Nick took him into his mouth, sweet JESUS, he’d never reach the point where that sight didn’t make him feel as if he was crawling out of his own skin from sheer electric amazed delight. Nick’s pink tongue laving him slowly, lips stretching to accommodate his girth. It took every ounce of self-possession he could still grasp to not simply bury himself inside that warm energetic mouth and do it right there.

Instead he stood upright and stepped back, pulling his cock out of Nick’s mouth with an audible wet slurp. "That’ll do," Gil said as evenly as he could, and forced a smile. "Stand up."

Nick was smiling, too, but with a familiar edge to it. His jaw jutted stubbornly. "Just gonna do me right here, huh? What’re you gonna do if somebody walks in?"

"Don’t worry about that. Turn around."

Nick’s eyes flashed that combination of anger and heat that Gil remembered from that first night in his office, and then he did it, turning around and leaning forward, bracing his forearms against the wall. The muscles stood out on his shoulders and back, bright lights creating chiaroscuro effects of light and shadow that trailed down to his narrow waist.

Gil drew a deep breath and smacked both his hands on Nick’s ass, massaging firmly. "Lower," he said hoarsely. "Spread your legs."

Nick’s back arched as he leaned lower, almost parallel to the ground. Muscles flexed under Gil’s hands. Gil swallowed and pushed up against him. "Want it?" he asked softly.

Nick flinched and spraddled his legs further apart. "What do you THINK?"

"I want to hear you say it. Say you want my dick up your ass."

"Aw, fuck. I want it, okay? Christ."

Chewing on his lower lip for a little control, Gil rubbed the head of his cock against Nick’s asshole. "Tell me. Convince me."

"Jesus H. Christ, I TOLD you –"

"That’s not what I want to hear."

"I want you to fuck my ass, all right?" Nick’s voice was high with strain. "Do it, man, fuck me, make me take it, just –"

Holding Nick’s hips firmly, Gil nudged inside him, and Nick’s voice wavered off into a hoarse, surprised grunt. "That it, Nicky?" Gil asked. "That what you want?"

Nick’s fingers scrabbled on the wall, fighting for purchase. "Oh, shit, godDAMN, YES." A shudder ran visibly through his taut body. "Come on, all of it, gimme the rest."

Gil arched his hips and sank inside him, and closed his eyes for a second, because nothing should feel this good, it was unbearable, Nick’s heat and that elastic feel of his body flexing and twitching around him, no fucking wonder this was still illegal in too many states.

Nick coughed out a strangled groan, and Gil’s eyes blinked open again. "Careful," he said in a strained whisper. "People, remember?"

"Fuck you," Nick whined, and flexed hard on him. "Come on. Come ON."

Gil drew back and thrust deep, grinning. "What will they see, huh? See you bent over taking it up the ass? You don’t care, do you? All you care about is this." He thrust again, hard, and Nick shuddered, breathing fast and noisily.

"S’all – you think about, isn’t it?" Nick gasped, forehead braced against his arm. Sweat was beading in the groove of his spine. "Can’t – think about anything else."

Gil raked his fingers down Nick’s spine and felt him tremble. "You should see yourself," he said through gritted teeth, trying not to speed up and feeling the control wavering, buffeted by the waves of pleasure enveloping his entire groin. "Jesus."

About the time he saw Nick bite his own arm, eyes clenched shut, he lost the ability to talk. It was all heat and friction and the way he could FEEL Nick tensing up, see the ripples in his muscular back that said he was getting so close, and not even touching his goddamn dick, just getting into the feel of Gil’s dick inside HIM. And then Gil forgot about the speeches going on in the big room down the hall, and the two women who worked the coat room, the hotel guests who were probably standing on the other side of that wall and having conversations about what to have for dinner and what show to try and catch later on tonight, and instead of caring about any of that, Gil sped up until he couldn’t even tell where his body ended and Nick’s stopped, fanning that flame until he felt Nick stagger a little and jolt, once, twice, voice spouting thick nonsense syllables while he squeezed Gil’s dick hard in the midst of his orgasm, and Gil just let it happen, that hot hard twist to his balls and the bone-creaking spasms that followed.

The first thing he heard when he came back from wherever it was the mind went when the pleasure took over, was Nick’s steam-engine gasps for breath, so mixed up with Gil’s own harsh breathing that it was hard to tell them apart. He looked down dizzily and saw the red imprints of his fingers on Nick’s sweaty flesh.

And then it sank in, where they were, what they’d just done, and Gil looked around fast, half-expecting to see someone there, face slack with astonishment and offense. But there wasn’t anyone, and he choked out a thin laugh as he peeled his hands off Nick’s hips and slid free of him. Nick reeled forward against the wall and leaned heavily, turning his head to glance at Gil.

"I think I sprained something," Nick rasped, and his knees went out from under him and deposited him on the carpeted floor.

Feeling a stupid grin spread over his face, Gil fished a handful of tissues out of his pocket and wiped himself off before hastily zipping his trousers. "Here." He held out his hand. "Come on."

It took much longer than it should have to get Nick back in his clothes. Because they were kissing, and laughing, and then more kisses, and Jesus, they were making more noise AFTER than they had during. But finally Nick was relatively decent, if extremely rumpled, and if anyone in history had ever looked more completely FUCKED than this, Gil hadn’t heard of it. But dressed.

"We can still make the last speech," Gil murmured against Nick’s lips. "Hasn’t been that long."

Nick sucked Gil’s lower lip into his mouth, brief but hard, and grinned. "I don’t think so."

"Maybe you’re right," Gil agreed, and grinned back.

Riddle #5