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Breathe? What the fuck was breathing? “Right.” Will tried to steady himself as the last of his orgasm washed over him with a shiver. “That... That was amazing.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
He frowned. “But, what about you?” The last two days Will had been freely given pleasure by Robert without the other man demanding he reciprocate.
“Don’t pout, beautiful boy,” Robert murmured throwing away the tissues they’d used. “Remember what I said before about those who pout?”
Heat scorched Will’s face as he righted his clothes. “They’re better wrapped around your cock.”
“Exactly and we don’t want to be interrupted when we finally get there.” The fierce look in Robert’s blue eyes left Will speechless. “Come on, let’s get cleaned up then grab some food. I’m starving.”
Will didn’t even think he could stand on his own let alone walk. “Sure.” Robert stepped out of his office while Will stumbled like a newborn gazelle. He’d have laughed if they were anywhere else, but since they were in the museum, he gathered up his fractured wits and tried to act like Robert hadn’t made him come hard with only his middle finger. He pointed to the employee bathroom then followed the man inside so they could wash up.
Once they’d finished tidying up, they exited the museum. Earlier that morning Will received the hurricane watch on his phone. He made arrangements to stay with Kristen and Devon to ride out the storm, but as he glanced over at Robert, he wondered if maybe the man would like to hunker down together instead. Will slipped the helmet on then waited for Robert to straddle the bike. When he was situated, Will climbed onto the seat behind Robert and wrapped his arms around the man’s middle. The bottoms of his palms brushed the thick length pressing against the front of Robert’s pants.
He sucked in a breath.
“A little higher. Don’t need me crashing while you’re on the back.” Robert chuckled while repositioning Will’s hands to the lower half of his stomach. “Better.” The muscles in Robert’s stomach bunched under Will’s palms.
“Sure, better.” His voice was shaky. Adrenaline coursed through his veins. “Do I need to do anything?”
Robert turned his head, glancing over his shoulder. “Hang on. Tight.” He dropped the bike into gear and rolled out of his spot. He squeezed Will’s hands then pulled out of the parking lot, catching gears as he sped up.
The bike vibrated between Will's legs as he shook from nerves and excitement. The air whipped around him as the hum of traffic filled the remaining void. Being out there, open and exposed, he understood why Robert liked his bike, it was exhilarating. Closing his eyes, Will pressed his cheek to Robert's back and settled in, even though the whole thing scared the shit out of him. Then he thought about how ridiculous he must look, on the back of a motorcycle, dressed in a suit with a man who wore jeans and another Cashmere sweater. He laughed to himself. It was bizarre, to say the least.
Once he finally looked up, he caught the facade of a small corner building along with a parking lot to the left. Robert slowed the bike to turn into the area then found a spot near the door. The building was one Will knew well. For the last five years, it'd been empty, the florist who occupied the place had gone out of business due to health issues. Now, it'd been painted and expanded to house the restaurant Robert had told him about.
He unclipped the helmet and pulled it off. Robert was there, taking it from him, and allowing Will the opportunity to fix his hair. “So, that was interesting.” Will maneuvered off the bike, his legs rubbery now from the tension filling him.
“You were clinging to me,” Robert teased. “Did you notice I moved your hands twice?”
Heat filled Will’s cheeks. “Sorry. I didn’t realize.”
Robert stepped to him. “It’s okay. I enjoyed it.” He gripped Will’s hand. “I’m starved. Let’s eat.”
Once Robert ate the last dumpling, he pushed his plate away and grabbed his phone. “I want to record our conversation, okay?”
Will nodded taking another bite of his moo goo gai pan. “Sure. Anything I can do to help, I will.” The idle chitchat had been nice, especially when he was able to unload the stress of making sure their event went off without a hitch.
“There was another hit,” Robert said, grabbing his glass of water. “Yesterday as a matter of fact.”
“The people at the club,” Will said, as if understanding the whole situation.
“No, actually, they were friends. I needed help with this case, and I thought Damian could be the guy to connect the dots.” He took another sip of his water. Will had been fixated on the bob of Robert’s Adam’s apple each time he swallowed. “Anyway, while we were talking about your museum along with the others, the call came in. Tell me, and I should have asked these questions sooner, but do you know a Liz Dickson?”
Will sat a little straighter. “Liz? Yes. We’re professional colleagues. Was it Lowe that got hit?”
Robert nodded.
“We’ve been friends for years. We both started together and went to a few seminars for training. She has a wonderful family and two beautiful children.” Will shook his head. “She’ll take this personally.”
Robert rubbed his chin. “How about Thomas Thorne?”
"Yes, he runs a small gallery in Pensacola." Will narrowed his eyes. "Wait, are you about to tell me, they're all connected... By me?" Guilt and something else roiled his stomach. Right about then, he regretted getting the moo goo gai pan.
Robert put his hand up. “Now, now. Don’t get ahead of yourself. It might be a coincidence. If I ask Liz the same question, would she say the same about Thomas?”
Will nodded. “Yes, of course. We are curators or assistant curators after all.”
