Since they’re unable to keep their hands off each other in private, Jem and Carlton plan a day out in public where they’ll be forced to behave. They enjoy spending time together—until the simmering heat between them ignites. Turns out indecency is more fun when it’s public…
4100-word MM erotic romance.
In the secluded ruins of the castle, Carlton kissed him. Jem slipped an arm around his neck to drag him down, his mouth opening under his, pressing himself against Carlton’s warmth. Carlton put a hand at the small of his back to pull him tighter against him. There was nobody around, so Jem could lose himself in Carlton, trapped between a cold stone wall and Carlton’s scorching heat. He loved how intent Carlton got when he was kissing him, like nothing else could register. Nothing else was important. Just the tightening of his fingers in Jem’s hair, the grind of his body against his, the fierceness of his mouth.
Carlton lifted him easily into an arrow slit and cut off his gasp with his mouth. Jem dragged him closer by the shirt, kissing him eagerly. He could feel Carlton hot and hard between his legs, pressing against his belly, and it excited him, making it impossible to think.
Carlton kissed him harder, then bit at his throat, making him gasp again. Carlton pulled at his shirt, getting it half open so he could investigate the bare skin underneath. “Carlton!” Jem squeaked. “We’ll get caught.”
“Won’t,” Carlton rumbled, palming the curve of his ass, dragging him tighter against him.
“Hush.” Carlton took him by the belt and flipped him over so that he was face down, bent over the edge of the arrow slit, his face pressed against the rough stone. It scraped his face, his palms when he moved. He was trapped under Carlton’s weight. The feeling scared him, but also thrilled him. He pulled half-heartedly against Carlton’s grip.
Carlton worked a hand under him and cupped him through the front of his trousers. Jem moaned aloud. The sound shocked him, so shameless. He rubbed himself into Carlton’s warm palm. “We really shouldn’t be doing this,” Jem tried to say, but his throat was dry and the words cracked.
Footsteps approached. The sound echoed off age-old stone. They both froze. Jem’s heart was beating hard, he was fighting for air, pressed flat against the stone.
Shadows moved across the wall. The tourists had stopped less than ten feet away, probably looking at the evidence of that explosive day during the Civil War. Close enough to hear them if they moved…