AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I snorted out a laugh. He was right. Professorhole looked like he wanted to rip the detective’s clothes off, and Detective Fraser was trying to push him away and failing. I flicked my gaze down the professor’s long torso, trying not to make it obvious that I was checking him out. His handsrested on his thighs, his legs were spread, and I swallowed at the outline of his hard cock. Damn, the man was hung, and he was showing the detective just how happy he was to see him.
My eyes snapped to Detective Fraser’s groin, and sure enough, he was packing too. Fitted dress pants did nothing to hide what either man had going on.
“It’s ready. I’ve set the outdoor table so we can eat there,” Ryder announced, breaking the spell my two visitors were locked in. It was a good thing I was wearing panties and not just shorts—my G-string was soaked.
I led the others to the top deck that overlooked the marina. People swarmed the dock, but they were moving past my yacht to the superyacht moored on the main pontoon. It was a nice change not to have my Noble Steed be the centre of attention for once.
The table was set with individual place settings accompanied by covered bowls of rice, two different sauces, and an array of seafood and vegetables laid out before the teppan grill Ryder had moved into place.
“Take a seat,” I instructed everyone.
Ry went straight to the grill that was now smoking and poured a generous coating of oil onto it. He tossed the vegetables—zucchini and onion—until they were cooked al dente and used the flat spatula to dish a serving up to each of us. Within moments, he had the seafood on and off the grill. Prawns, salmon fillets, and scallops were plated for each of us.
“Are you eating?” I asked.
“Yeah, just about to start cooking it.”
I waited until Ry sat down with us before digging into my lunch. It was as gourmet as it got. Ryder had gone grocery shopping that morning, but the first place he’d stopped was at the trawlers to buy up their premium catch.
Sitting back, I watched the banter between the men before me. Flynn and Detective Fraser were talking cricket—I quickly tuned out whatever it was they were droning on about—and Professor Reid was questioning Ryder on his cooking skills and how he’d learnt to manage maintenance for a yacht, cars, a plane—and who owned a plane?—and me. Ryder smirked when the professor asked what the highest maintenance item was, and I narrowed my eyes, pointing my chopsticks at him. His hearty laugh brought a smile to my lips. Apparently my ’67 Mustang and the Noble Steed were a breeze.
I didn’t realize I was smiling until Flynn nudged me and grinned. “This is fun.”
“Yeah, it is.”
Ryder stood up to clear the dishes, but Detective Fraser stopped him. “Let Tris and I do it.”
“No, guests don’t clean up. That’s what I’m hired for.”
“Ryder, stop,” he instructed, the detective’s tone leaving no room for argument. They stood up, stacked the plates, and disappeared into the galley to fill the dishwasher.
“How about I make some green tea?” I asked.
“I can do it,” Ry responded, moving to stand. I touched his hand, and he sat back down, his confused gaze bouncing between Flynn and me.
“You’ve just cooked lunch. Let me do this.” I knew why he was bewildered. I normally didn’t offer to help, but I also wanted to make sure the professor and detective weren’t using my crockery to kill each other or my galley bench to fuck on. Either way, I didn’t want to put Ry in that position again so soon.
I wasn’t far off the mark. Walking into the galley, I was met with the professor pinning Detective Fraser up against the bench, his front pressed to the detective’s arse. His movements were fluid, his body practically dancing against the detective’s. Grinding, hard body against hard body, the professor whispered something in his ear. I couldn’t hear the words, but the deep rumble and the whisper of sex in his tone had my cunt clenching. Fuck, the man was potent. No matter who he was with, he had a commanding presence. Detective Fraser’s moan was illicit. He arched into his touch, shoving back when the professor gave him a sliver of space.
He whipped around.
Chest to chest, and nose to nose. Their mouths were only a hair’s breadth apart.
They were breathing hard. Like magnets drawn together, they moved as one.
Detective Fraser speared his fingers into the professor’s hair, gripping him by the nape as Professor Reid’s hands found the detective’s back. Their mouths brushed together once in a whisper-soft caress.
I didn’t know who moaned, but it kickstarted the other into action, deepening their kiss. Tongues duelled, teeth clashed, and I wanted to know their story.
But then it was over.
Detective Fraser stepped back, severing their connection, and held up a hand to stop the professor chasing him.
“No,” the detective uttered, his tone a mixture of resignation and determination. His hands against the professor’s chest were gentle, the pat seemingly an excuse to touch him rather than push him away.
Leaving the professor wasn’t easy for him. The detective’s strides were slow, his feet dragging. His expression was shuttered, as if he needed time to shove his emotions back into the box. Pausing before me, he cupped my face with one hand and gently kissed my cheek. He hovered there for a moment, and I breathed him in. I touched his chest, the curve of his hard muscle moulding to my hand. I’d never thought of him as built before, but he had some serious definition under that business shirt. Electricity sizzled through my veins, and the desire to see him without it on while up close and personal with Professor Pushy again was overwhelming.
It was the first time the detective had done that. He’d never shown me any affection before. We’d always just been colleagues, he my boss and me his employee. This change seemed monumental. I tightly clutched the small piece of himself that he gave me.
