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The fiery seduction scene playing out in the next apartment had him hot and hard in record time. Dillon watched Vance's handsome lover stroke over his neighbor's rigid erection. His fingers flexed and curled around the iron-hard spear of flesh. The long fingers of his other hand delved between Vance's thighs, played at the shadowy crevices, and Vance's lean hips surged up from the plush pillows resting beneath him.
Lights off, the apartment dark, Dillon flattened a palm against the cold glass of his own apartment window. The fingers of his other hand were curled around his own raging erection as he watched the lovers surge and retreat like dancing opponents in a divine duel of earthy lust. It was a scene Dillon couldn't turn his gaze away from.
Snow blanketed the world in huge white flakes, drifting and swirling in a mating dance in front of Dillon's window. Dillon peered closer in order to see beyond the delicate veil of the winter storm, his body burning, his cock throbbing, so in contrast to the frigid cold of the winter's night.
He watched Vance's dark-haired lover flip Vance over on the frothing bed of red and gold pillows. He slipped one of the smaller pillows beneath Vance's lean hips then spread his legs as he smoothed a hand over the rounded flesh of sleek golden cheeks, taking his time as he pressed a finger between the dark crease and probed around Vance's puckered hole.
Dillon squeezed more oil into the palm of his hand and slid his oil-slick fingers over his engorged dick. The glans had turned a deep shade of purple, skin stretched tight and pulsing hot. It was burning and slick, rising tall and thick, so ready for action. He cupped his heavy balls,coating them with oil, feeling them draw tightly against his blistering body.
Dillon watched closely as the man with the silky blue-black hair spread lube around Vance Keith's asshole. He yearned to be a part of the scene as two fingers disappeared into Vance's rectum. Oh God, he bet the man's ass was so tight. He imagined how it would feel hugging his cock, hearing the groans of pleasure as he sank deeper. Dillon's hand jerked faster up and down his aching erection. He pumped his hips. His breath fogged the window and he wiped his hand across the surface. Flesh sliding across cold, wet glass that cried out into the darkness. Oily fingerprints smudged, but the view was clear enough. The scent of the air was drenched thick and heavy with his arousal.
He felt his climax surge as he watched Vance's lover sheathe his cock with a condom. He did it slowly, stretching out the anticipation. The slope of Vance's body as he waited for his lover, was wet and shiny with oil. Damn, but Dillon wanted it to be his cock closing in on that searing portal. So many nights he'd watched them, hungering for the object of his affection. Dillon's gaze never wavered as the dark-haired lover split Vance's gorgeous ass and targeted his hole with his thick, condom-sheathed dick. Dillon saw Vance stiffen and he held his breath as he consumed the slow penetration with his ravenous gaze. God yes, he wanted it to be him. He needed it so badly he could taste it, he could feel the divine pleasure of penetrating inside that small, hungry channel. His slick hand rode his cock, sliding fast, pumping over his own fiery rod. Almost there, oh God, yes.
"Mr. Lloyd? Mr. Lloyd, are you listening?"
Dillon exhaled like a bloated balloon pierced with a pin, his attention snapped back to the present with painful regret. To the office and to the package resting on his desk. His cock burned beneath his pants, his balls heavy and aching. Thank God the desk hid the bulge from view. He tore his gaze from the package to meet the curious look of Sid, the messenger who awaited his answer. The ache of his cock would have to wait. Carefully, he straightened in his chair.
"Yes, well..." He cleared his throat. "You're certain this recipient has moved and left no forwarding address?"
The curly-haired, red-cheeked messenger nodded. "Yes, sir. He's gone, no forwarding address. And I asked Felice to do a check online when I got back. There's nothing."
Dillon had to wonder what had happened. Vance and his lover had used Dillon's messenger service for their little gifts that traveled back and forth ever since the affair began six months before. Granted, the deliveries had tapered off over the last few weeks, but with the holiday season upon them, Dillon hadn't really noticed. Until today.
He reached out to pick up the plain brown, wrapped package. Fingering the label, he slid the pad of a finger across the edge of the securely taped triangular flaps. He wondered what was inside. A gift for the holidays, maybe? Jewelry? Possibly a watch with a personal inscription? Or was it a sexual gift? Maybe a new set of anal beads like the ones he'd seen Vance use on his lover two weeks before.
Dillon's cock surged, aroused far beyond what it should be at five o'clock sitting across from a young man he had no desire to fuck.
Dillon looked at the bundled-up messenger, who had a bright yellow scarf wrapped around his neck. Sid hopped from foot to foot, rubbing his cold hands together, as he waited for Dillon's permission to clock out. He probably had a girl waiting for him--maybe a party to attend and a cold bed just waiting to be warmed.
"You can go. I'll take care of it. Mr. Keith lives in the building right next to mine so it's no problem. Too bad, though. Looks like someone won't be getting his gift on time."
Sid looked relieved and he let out a sigh. "Great. Thanks so much, Mr. Lloyd. I really did try to locate him, but there's just no information on where he's gone."
"No problem. You go on and enjoy your weekend. Next week will probably be a busy one leading into the holiday. It's like everyone thinks the end of the world is coming when we close out the year. Suddenly, every delivery is a life-or-death situation. Rest up."
Sid grinned. "Oh, sure, Mr. Lloyd, I'll be sure to get lots of rest. Have a good weekend." He spun around and raced out the door.
Dillon had to laugh. Yeah, he'd probably be in bed all weekend, but he doubted the man would be resting.
Too bad Dillon didn't have anyone in his life right now. All he had were his voyeuristic fantasies about the man next door. He glanced at the package. And it looked like even that wasn't going to be happening if this undeliverable package was anything to go by.
He lifted the package from his desk. It didn't weigh a lot, less than a pound at any rate. Small and oblong. Maybe a wooden box containing something special for Vance Keith's lover?
Dillon brought the package up to his nose and sniffed. There was the hint of manly aroma. Cologne, maybe. Dillon closed his eyes and inhaled the scent. Vance Keith's scent. He had probably wrapped the gift himself, thinking of his lover as he did so. Visualizing the same things Dillon had just been fantasizing about.
He shifted in his chair. Damn, he had to stop thinking about the man. It was making him crazy wanting something he couldn't have.
In Dillon's mind he could see himself standing in front of Vance. Dillon had never had the guts to introduce himself to his neighbor even though they lived next door and only a narrow alley separated them. A very narrow alley; if Dillon were to stretch out he could probably touch the sill of Vance's apartment. Dillon brought a hand down to cup his aching erection. He stroked and shuddered. He inhaled again and the subtle scent wafted through him. Was it Diesel? Or something else?
"Are you going to deliver it?" A female voice had Dillon gasping as he dropped the package back on the desk like it was a hot coal.
"Felice, dammit, haven't you learned to knock? Why aren't you on the phones?"
Felice snapped her gum. She lifted her arm and pointed to the glitzy Swatch watch on her narrow wrist. "After five, sweetie. Time to go home. Night shift just arrived."
He waved his hand. "Well then, go." He was flustered at having been caught in the middle of his favorite sexual fantasy.
Instead of leaving, Felice dropped down into the chair on the opposite side of the desk. She scrunched down and steepled her fingers, studying him intently with her purple contact-lensed gaze.
"You want him, you know you do. Think no one notices that dreamy fixed look you get in your eyes whenever his name is mentioned? I notice."
Dillon leaned back in his chair. "You're a busybody, girl. You don't know what you're talking about." He tried to bluff his way out of the conversation. Damn, but the Goth girl who ran the desk on days saw way too much. Obviously, she'd been working for him for far too long.
She shrugged. "Hey, it's your life." She leaned forward. "It's the holidays, Dillon. What could it hurt if you just introduced yourself to him? Will you die if he says no?"
"It will change everything. It's not right. He's a client." But he felt the walls of propriety beginning to crumble. He'd watched the man for so many months, yearning for him, dreaming about him. Fantasizing about what it would be like to be with him.
"Isn't this the time of year when miracles can happen? You work hard. But you don't play. How many times have I listened to someone ask you out for a drink and you always turn them down? Even me. You work, you go home, you come back to work again. You've made this place your life. I'm surprised you don't just bunk down in your office. Jeez, Dillon."
"That's not true." Dillon tried to deny her allegations. But he knew it was true. Building this business had taken every cent he had and he wasn't going to see it fail.
"Don't bother to deny it. I've worked here long enough to see what you do. You're one of the good ones, Dillon. You'd be a great catch. You deserve this. Let yourself go. Just this once, take a chance."
He sighed. Felice was right, he spent every waking breath trying to build and maintain a reputation for D.L.F., and so far it was doing well. He'd even shown a bit of profit this year. And he was thinking about branching out. But taking a chance with his business and taking a chance with a man in his personal life were two entirely different things. He wasn't certain he could handle being turned down by the one man he'd fixated on for so long. He wasn't after just a one-night stand. It wasn't only about some hot sex. He wanted someone he could actually think about having a relationship with. Was that even possible?
"It's Christmas, Dillon, give yourself a present." Felice stood up, her gaze rolled over him. "I could help you out with that woody you're hiding behind the desk because you're thinking about him now." She licked her maroon-lipsticked lips. "But I gotta go, my gal is waiting. You deserve this guy, so go get him." She grinned. "I'll expect a report on Monday. And don't think I won't ask."
"You're a tease, you know that," he yelled after her. He heard the cheery ding of the bell on the front door and figured she'd made her swift exit. But he knew she was right. It was time for him to take a chance in his personal life as well as his business.
Did he have the courage to approach Vance Keith and take the chance of being turned down? God, when had he gotten so weak-kneed, and why was he so fixated on this man in particular?