Continuation of Chapter 91 - Misconceptions & Realizations
Onwards and upwards with Warrick!
Back to the beginning of Chapter 91
"Madre de Dios, that is a beauty," Warrick exclaimed as he looked down on the colorful bruise decorating the lower half of Sawyer's face when he saw the man's eyelids flutter. Thank goodness for that small movement. Upon entering Sawyer's rooms, Warrick's heart had stopped at how still the man was, sprawled across his bed. Then he'd noticed the empty liquor bottle and the glass on the bedside table.
Turning back to the door, Warrick waved off the Freeman's servants lingering there. Miss Marg was still with Sawyer's landlady, smoothing that woman's ruffled feathers that 'personages' from Sawyer's club were worried about his well-being and were stealing him away to recover at that 'establishment' instead of in his own bed.
The voice was one he recognized, though Sawyer couldn't immediately place it. Nonetheless, it stole through his dreams and forced him awake more fully. Blinking again, he aimed for focus on the brown face swimming above him.
Naveen! his heart screamed at first, but as he blinked again, Sawyer realized it was not his Dom.
Warrick. Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes once more as he let his heart settle back into a more even pattern, Sawyer was almost grateful it wasn't Naveen seeing him in this state. As he opened his eyes once more, the thought of Naveen witnessing him as he was made him remember where he was and a thumping began inside his head almost as if set off by the memory.
"Jesus, fuck..." he groaned as he sat up-or tried to-and immediately collapsed backward again. "Tell me you've come bearing more whiskey?"
Let that be so, because for the life of him Sawyer couldn't work out why Warrick would be in his room, unless he was hallucinating.
"I think you've had enough of that spirit. I've come... been sent, I should say, to haul your sorry hide back to Freeman's. Cook is on the warpath that you will pass out or expire without her 'loving care'." The corner of Warrick's mouth curved up as he stared down at his obviously hung-over friend.
"Now, so I can wrap up this last errand I have been tasked with, can you stand, or do I need to have the servants carry you out?" Having witnessed the tongue-lashing Cook delivered to the Chinese staff for letting Sawyer slip out of the house, Warrick knew anything other than returning with the patient in tow was unacceptable.
"I ain't going nowhere," Sawyer managed, tasting the interior of his mouth.
Damned fool; he knew he shouldn't have drunk himself into a stupor, but he really hadn't expected anyone to care enough to come after him.
"Just get me some water then, if you ain't got any more whiskey. Feel like something died in my mouth. There's a jug over there." Waving vaguely in the direction of the dresser at one side of the room, Sawyer made more of an effort and managed to pull himself into a sitting position.
He took a deep breath, trying to get the spinning to stop, and realized his clothes stank. Christ! What he needed was a good hot bath, and more rest, not Cook's idea of 'loving care' which he suspected was as likely to smother him-not to mention have her berating him endlessly for his foolishness-as cure him.
Warrick's head sank between his tired shoulder blades as he crossed the room for the water jug. Wanting to dash the contents over Sawyer's head for being obstinate, he hesitated before picking up the semi-clean glass next to the jug.
All he wanted was his bed... at this point, any bed. That was impossible until he returned to Freeman's... with the 'patient' in tow.
"Oh yes you are!" Miss Marg's slight frame filled the doorway. Dressed impeccably in a green day dress that complemented her coloring, hat set at a jaunty angle atop her up-swept hair, her artful application of powder and hint of rouge hid that she'd only managed two hours rest after the chaos of the night before.
"Oh great; the cavalry," Sawyer muttered, gesturing for Warrick to bring the glass of water to him. "With all due respect, Miss Marg, I am fine and you have no need to bother your staff with attending to me. Of course..." He glanced up at Warrick and winked as he took the glass from him. "...if you want to leave Warrick to help me in the bath and keep me company for a while, I won't say no."
He leveled the madam with a look as stubborn as he knew she could be. "Otherwise, you can take your entourage and return to Freeman's. I'm sure Cook would appreciate a current update, and I'll gladly send Warrick back in an hour or two to confirm that my well-being has been thoroughly checked."
He flicked his eyes back to Warrick and offered him an appreciative head-to-toe once-over. The man looked exhausted, truth be told, and Sawyer had a mind to wear him out further, then let him rest as long as he needed before he sent him on his way. They'd probably been using him as some kind of messenger service in Marton's absence; presuming he'd gone on the 'Eric-search' Marg had told him of last night.
"How's the search progressing, by the way?" he asked, giving his attention back to Marg as he pulled Warrick to a seat beside him on the bed. "See? Still got all my faculties," he smirked, "I haven't forgotten anything we discussed last night yet."
"Really?" Marg's voice dripped sarcasm as she took a step into the room. "Does that include where you accepted my gracious offer for you to stay at the house while the men are away?"
Personally, she was thankful Sawyer was his normal sassy and lusty self; obviously hung-over but not showing any signs of serious injury from the bump to the back of his head.
Frowning as he searched his memory, Sawyer exchanged a look with Warrick-not that he was likely to know either way-then focused back on Marg.
"To be frank with you, Miss Marg, I recall you saying I was welcome to stay as long as I needed to recover, not that I was invited to stay while Marton, and presumably the rest of the more masculine members of the household, went in search of Eric."
He paused, thinking. "Am I invited? Do you need me there?" He supposed he could agree to a compromise if they really did need more men about the place.
"Of course you were invited," Marg shot back with a dismissive wave of her hand. Truthfully, Sawyer might be right and she may have assumed she extended the invite as well as easing Sawyer's worry about having worn out his welcome at Freeman's. That hardly mattered now. They couldn't forcibly remove Sawyer from his lodgings... despite Cook quite vocally stating they do just that.
"We could use you at the house this evening... if you must insist on 'borrowing' Warrick for a few hours," the corners of Marg's eyes crinkled with amused indulgence, "at least allow the man some decent rest."
Turning her grin to Warrick, Marg waggled a finger. "As for you, stay or go, it's your choice. I suppose I could deflect some of Cook's fury if you stay by telling her you are merely assuring that Sawyer doesn't slip into unconsciousness from the bump to the back of his head."
Sawyer felt a small victory had been won; now all Warrick had to do was to agree to stay with him while he got cleaned up.
Perhaps he'd go over there later, and perhaps he wouldn't; he'd decide that in due course. Much as he wanted-no, needed, he managed to realize-to see Naveen again, he still wasn't completely sure he'd be up to casual meetings in hallways with the man. Especially considering what had happened last time you saw him in a hallway, his treacherous mind reminded him.
Swallowing hard, he gripped Warrick's arm and offered him a grin as he pushed the thoughts of Naveen out of his head. "C'mon; stay a while. You can help scrub my back. I promise not to make you work too hard. You can even rest a while before you're running back and forth doin' whatever it is they got you doin' that's worn you out. What d'ya say?" He gave Warrick his best persuasive look, hoping like hell the man would agree.
Warrick threw his head back as he laughed. "How can I resist such a generous offer... now that the two of you have decided my fate for the next few hours," he couldn't resist adding with another chuckle.
"Go ahead Miss Marg, I'll stay a while and make sure Mr. Sawyer safely maneuvers in the bath, and that everything is in working order."
Pleased to have gotten his own way, Sawyer nodded politely as Marg and the other servants took their leave. He sighed loudly, then turned to Warrick. "Come on then; I'll show you where the bathroom is. You can start my bath while I find something else to wear."
Letting Warrick stand, he held out a hand so the mulatto could help him to his feet. Groaning as he stood, he admitted, "I shouldn't have drunk the whole bottle, I don't suppose." A weak grin accompanied this statement, and he held onto Warrick for support as they made their way down the hallway.
"In here. Actually, perhaps I'll sit here and you can find the clothing once you've got that started. There's not much to choose from," Sawyer said as he lowered himself into the one straight-backed chair in the room. "There's a couple of shirts in the closet, and a pair of trousers too, but maybe my smoking jacket and the linen pants you'll find in the bureau would be better for now."
Blinking in amazement, Warrick checked that the bathroom door was closed. It was. He then looked around to verify that he and Sawyer were the only ones in the room. They were.
A muscle in his jaw flexing, Warrick crossed to the tub, studying the fixtures before turning on the appropriate taps to fill it with steaming water. Moving to a cabinet he pulled out a couple towels and a new bar of soap.
After arranging the items next to the filling tub, along with a scrub brush he found, Warrick moved back to the chair. Head bowed, he went down on one knee to lower himself below Sawyer's line of sight.
"Is there anything else Mas'sa requires?" Warrick asked in an obsequious slavish accent. The look in Warrick's eyes was anything but subservient as he tilted his chin up met Sawyer's gaze.
At first, Sawyer was a little surprised at Warrick's behavior, but then he gave him a sheepish grin, realizing his mistake.
Although Sawyer was used to asking for and receiving aid from the whores he paid, this wasn't quite the situation here and he knew it. Warrick was here as a favor, not as a paid servant. Sawyer had let his own misery and his hangover cloud his mind, and he didn't have the right to forget his friendship with this man.
"I'm not on the plantation any more and sometimes I need remindin'. I'm sorry, Warrick. I'm a hung-over fool, and Marg let you stay to help me, not to cater to my every whim. Would you mind givin' me hand, so I can stand up again, please? I'll go find the clothes if you wouldn't mind watching the water?"
"You stay and undress." Warrick reached up to place a warm hand on Sawyer's shoulder to keep him seated. "I'll go gather some clean clothing, eh?"
He knew deep down Sawyer hadn't meant to be so demeaning. However, Warrick respected himself and the friendship he and Sawyer had forged too much to allow the callow behavior to slide.
"Thank you," Sawyer replied, glad that Warrick wasn't going to hold his foolishness against him. He did feel rather worse for wear, truth be told, and staying where he was seemed much more appealing than making his way back to his room for clean clothing.
Warrick disappeared out through the door, closing it behind him, and Sawyer began to strip off his clothes. By the time Warrick returned, he was in the tub, smoking a cheroot. God, the water was good! He toyed with the tap with a toe, adjusting the temperature as he grinned around the cigar at Warrick.
"Think you'd better lock the door. Can't really say I'm up to much to be honest, but all the same, we don't need anyone walking in right now."
"Had I now?" Warrick grinned as he twisted the lock and then approached with a predatory spring to his step. The similarities as well as the vast differences from their first meeting were not lost on Warrick as he moved closer.
"Should I strip off so the bath water doesn't inadvertently splash on my attire?" he asked with an amused lofting of one eyebrow.
Hearing the promise in Warrick's voice, Sawyer twisted his neck to look up at him, an amused dimple making its presence in one cheek. He rolled his tongue around the cigar and removed it from his mouth before speaking.
"That sounds like a mighty fine idea." His voice had dropped already, and despite what he'd said, desire coiled low in his belly.
What a world of difference from the kittenish seduction by young Archie to this erotic man's actions. Sawyer's every move was designed to seduce, to overwhelm with passion. Warrick's body responded to Sawyer's siren call of flashing dimples and husky voice.
Warrick shed his clothes swiftly, enjoying the play of lusty interest deepening the sea-foam green of Sawyer's eyes.
"I will have you know I have no intention of kneeling on this hard tile, so slide that fine ass forward so I can slip in behind you," Warrick challenged with a lusty grin of his own.
Sawyer's dimples deepened as he watched with interested eyes as Warrick undressed. He was a fine specimen; there was no doubt. And perfect to take Sawyer's mind off his concerns for a while.
Tipping his head in assent, he planted the cheroot firmly back in his mouth and slid forward in the tub, leaving plenty of room for Warrick to climb in behind him. Already, anticipation was building at the thought of having those large hands on his skin, not to mention having other parts of his anatomy in very close proximity.
Sawyer's sultry looks had Warrick semi-hard as he climbed into the tub. The leanly muscled back under his fingers and the narrow hips sliding along Warrick's inner thighs as he sank into the water firmed him more.
This was no sweet waif with kitten licks and mews, but a virile man. A predatory tiger on the prowl, whose claws were twice as sharp and would be three times as lethal if Warrick let him too near his heart. Sawyer, like Archie, belonged to someone else. Friendship and casual sexual encounters were all he was entitled to.
"Was it your back alone you needed help scrubbing?" Warrick asked cheekily in a low purr that he could feel shiver across Sawyer's skin.
Sawyer's smirk widened as Warrick spoke. "Oh, I daresay other parts of me are pretty filthy too," he murmured before taking another puff on the cheroot. "Perhaps I should put this out for now, huh?"
Resting one hand on Warrick's firm calf beside him, Sawyer offered a sultry look back over his shoulder. He stubbed the end of the cigar out on the outside of the bath before checking it was no longer burning, and placing it carefully on the floor next to the tub.
Rolling his shoulders, Sawyer leaned forward to allow Warrick easier access to his back.
"Be sure to give me a sign when I get to a pretty filthy spot," Warrick whispered in Sawyer's ear. He lathered up a sponge and began slow swirling sweeps across Sawyer's shoulders and upper back. "Wouldn't want to miss anything that needs extra attention, right?"
"Definitely," Sawyer agreed with a low purr. This was definitely what he needed; not worry over what had happened with Eric and Hugh; not Naveen's deeply mysterious and compelling eyes; not Jack's sad and needy ones; not even the cards or the drink.
Pushing all of that out of his mind in favor of the heated desire rolling through him at every sweep of the soapy sponge across his back, Sawyer reached behind him for Warrick's spare hand and drew it around his body to find his firming cock.
"This could use some extra attention about now. It's feeling pretty filthy, wouldn't you agree?"
"Is it now?" Warrick stroked up and down the silky-hard length, pulling Sawyer back against him as he moved the sponge around to wash Sawyer's chest. His cock nestled perfectly at the top of Sawyer's crease, and Warrick leaned in to lick over the shell of his ear.
"We should not tarry long in this shared bathroom," Warrick's voice lowered to a husky growl, "Or, is it the risk of someone knocking that stirs your blood?"
Sawyer's grin spread across his face as he leaned his head back on Warrick's shoulder, delicious shivers of pleasure rippling through him.
"You should know by now, Warrick. There's always something to be had in the game of chance. You willing to risk it? Even if someone knocks, they can't get in here, although you're right, we might have to move quickly. But if you prefer, we can finish washing up, and spend a couple of delicious hours in my bed, where we can ignore any knocks on the door. Hmm?"
He turned a little, letting his tongue find a bead of sweat on Warrick's neck, playing with it as it ran down dusky skin.
Shivering as he knew Sawyer intended him to react to the licks, Warrick purred lowly, "You are dangerous, but you know that, oui?" Receiving a lusty chuckle as a response, Warrick nudged Sawyer's head around so he could tug lightly on an earlobe with his teeth. He licked the bit of flesh, then pulled it into his mouth to suckle. All the while, he kept up the torturously slow strokes on the cock in his hand.
"I could do this until we do push the limits and someone comes along and knocks, speeding up at that moment to see how quietly you can reach your peak. But then we'd be prunes sitting in cold water, instead of finding something to occupy ourselves on that wide, soft bed of yours."
The sponge forgotten and floating away in the bathwater, Warrick plucked Sawyer's nipples up to hard, soapy peaks, and then stopped all movement. Chuckling at the soft whine and lurch of Sawyer's body, Warrick reached for the shaving mug on the ledge. He dipped up some water and poured it over Sawyer's head, "In any case, we should get on with attending to the filthy bits by washing your hair. I do hope you don't intend for me to shave you as well."
Amused at the way things were heading, Sawyer didn't have a lot of choice on the hair wash, but he wasn't complaining.
"A shave is just gonna add to the time we're a-wastin', and I've been without one for longer than this," Sawyer agreed, closing his eyes and relaxing as Warrick's skilled hands began massaging soap into his hair.
"Oh, that's good... not as good as where you had your hand before, but I guess we can get back to that once we're in the bed." His smile grew, although he didn't open his eyes, imagining Warrick's dark skin contrasting nicely with the white sheets as he laid across Sawyer's soft bed with him.
Dipping up more water, Warrick tipped Sawyer's head back to rinse out the suds. "I could go back to where I had my hand before... but you'd only end up filthy again and we'd never get out of this tub."
The thought of stretching out on a nice bed was sounding more and more appealing, and not just because of the pleasurable antics he knew they'd get up to. Warrick suppressed a yawn as he fished out the sponge so Sawyer could scrub his limbs.
It didn't take a lot longer for them to finish up in the tub in the end. Sawyer had got to the point where the bed seemed more appealing, and Warrick obviously wasn't far behind on that thinking.
They continued to stir each other up with looks and caresses while they got dried and then both slipped back into the bare minimum of clothing so they would be decent for the walk back to Sawyer's room.
Once the door was shut and locked, Sawyer wasted no time in removing everything again, his eyes and smirk firmly fixed on Warrick as he did so.
"You know, I never expected such a treat today," Sawyer murmured, moving closer to Warrick and sliding hands under his shirt to stroke across the still-damp skin underneath.
"Nor did I," Warrick purred at the warm fingers caressing his skin. Eyes reflecting heightened lust, and probably some of his exhaustion, he started backing Sawyer toward the bed. "Since you so skillfully managed your own attire, mind assisting with removing mine?"
"No problem," Sawyer smirked, despite the fact that he was being moved backward. Sliding his hands further under the shirt, he stopped moving his feet long enough to raise it over Warrick's head and drop it, his eyes on Warrick's the whole time.
Letting Warrick steer him closer to the bed once more, Sawyer's fingers danced at the waistline of the other man's trousers until he felt the bed behind him. His eyes dropped to Warrick's lips and he remembered the taste of them; how desperate he'd been to kiss them that day in the garden. Blinking as that thought led to how he'd kissed Naveen just days later and what that had made him feel, he flicked a startled look back to Warrick's eyes, before dropping rapidly to sit on the bed, tugging at Warrick's pants.
He couldn't kiss Warrick. It would only confuse him more, and something he didn't really want to acknowledge deep inside told him that this-of all things-would be the greatest disloyalty to Naveen. Forcing the thought away as he lowered the trousers to reveal Warrick's impressive cock, Sawyer smiled back up at the man's face, and then leaned in to suckle the darkened cock-head, hands gentle against Warrick's slim hips.
"Ah God..." Warrick gasped, hands falling heavily on Sawyer's shoulders to keep him upright. "Unless that is all you want of me, this will be over much too soon if you continue." The more Sawyer used his talented tongue, the more blood flowed down to fill Warrick's cock. Despite often being the aggressor during their encounters, Sawyer had bottomed the time they had 'danced' at the party. Also, although most of that time was still hazy, Warrick half-remembered Sawyer asking to be fucked the night they met, and that somehow leading to the 'punishment' from Pence before Sawyer led Mr. Marton and the others on the rescue mission.
"Of course." Warrick's voice dropped lower, huskier. "If it is me you want bent over the bed while you use that lovely cock I had a hold of earlier, I wouldn't complain either," Warrick offered, a dimple appearing as one corner of his mouth quirked up.
Sawyer swirled his tongue around the head of Warrick's cock once more before pulling off wetly and tilting an eyebrow as he gazed up at him. Being offered such a thing hadn't entered Sawyer's head; he was usually the one who got fucked-except in certain situations which he definitely wasn't going to think about right now.
However, the thought of being with someone in both ways did send an incredible thrill right through his system and his dick throbbed all the harder at the prospect.
"Can't say I'd be complaining, if that's what you want?" he said, turning it into a question. If Warrick was sure, then he would do it. Perhaps this was closer to what he needed right now than anything had been in a long while.
A man with whom he could truly be equal. Heart pattering in anticipation, he let his interest show in his eyes as he waited for Warrick's reply.
And when Sawyer's eyes twinkled like that, any question forming on those sultry lips was irresistible to respond with anything but assent. "Mm hmm, I look forward to feeling you give me your 'best shot', shall we say?" Warrick's answering grin was unrepentant as he pushed on Sawyer's shoulders until he landed on his elbows on the bed. Toeing off his boots, Warrick stripped off his trousers and climbed on after his friend and casual lover. This bit of unplanned afternoon sexual antics was just what he needed to come to grips with the emotions stirred up earlier with Archie and his 'master', Inspector Stokes.
Sawyer's smile grew wider as he was pushed backward. Stretching out next to Warrick on one side, he forgot how he wasn't going to kiss him and leaned in, seeking the full lips as he stroked a hand down Warrick's flank.
Letting his tongue twine around Warrick's, he stroked smooth skin, marveling at the heat in it. How easy it was to forget both Matt and Naveen in this man's company. Finally pulling back from the delicious mouth, he pressed his forehead against Warrick's, noting the difference in their bodies.
"Which way would you prefer?" Sawyer's heart stuttered for a moment, remembering how much care he usually took with Matt; how the gentle caressing and considered study of his reactions had always made everything so perfect with them. Perhaps it would be easier to have Warrick on his stomach, so they didn't have to look at each other. Something in him wanted to avoid the kind of intimacy he'd always had with Matt, and yet... to look into the depths of jade eyes while he plumbed the man's body would give him as much pleasure as his cock would.
Unable to even contemplate how something like this would be with Naveen-it being so far outside of anything they did together-Sawyer tried not to let Matt's face into his thoughts as his hands kept moving on the velvety skin within his reach.
Warrick watched emotions pass over Sawyer's face; emotions that the man probably wasn't aware were evident, and certainly Warrick was not entitled to question.
"The bed is soft and my knees aren't what they used to be," Warrick answered, licking at Sawyer's taste on his lips. "I think we'd both have better maneuverability this way..." He twisted his lower body away from Sawyer, hissing in pleasure when Sawyer followed, his cock aligning with Warrick's crease.
Sawyer's smile faltered when Warrick moved, but the position was better than many he could have chosen. Completely different to the way he and Matt approached things for the most part, and nothing like anything he'd done with Naveen-although of course, they always did things the other way around.
Their bodies fitted so perfectly, and Warrick was... Sawyer swallowed, not letting the thought continue. This was just sex, for Christ's sake!
Reaching under the pillow for the pottle of grease he kept there, Sawyer rapidly unscrewed it and dug out a dollop, replacing the lid and pushing it quickly out of the way. He let his hand move between them, shifting back a little so he could find Warrick's pucker as he began to kiss the soft skin under the mulatto's ear.
Warrick shivered under the touch; both touches. He'd only been with a select few at the house, and everyone there was adept at taking great care in preparation. Certainly a frequent, preferred client like Sawyer was equally adept. The frisson of unease that skittered down his spine had no place in this casual encounter. Sawyer was not out to purposely harm him; Dieu, Sawyer had saved him. His momentary case of nerves was only the remnants of abuse he'd suffered at the hands of Pence and his goons and depraved clients, as Marton had often reminded him. It wasn't physical harm that Sawyer could cause him. It was the emotional harm if Warrick didn't remember to keep things casual with this dangerous tiger.
Sliding his upper thigh higher, Warrick gave Sawyer more access. "You having trouble finding your target?" Warrick taunted lightly, sending a wicked grin over his shoulder.
Sawyer snorted lightly, sending a puff of air across the skin he'd just kissed.
"I know exactly what I'm aimin' for; believe it. I may not do it this way much these days, but I haven't forgotten a thing." His voice was low and sultry, the words practically breathed into Warrick's ear as his finger slid slowly but surely into the gap it sought.
"Ungh, yes..." The shiver Sawyer's voice sent down Warrick's spine was a much better one. Slim fingers prod gently until they reached a particular goal. Sawyer's lusty chuckle filled his ear as Warrick's body reacted to the tap on his prostate.
"You keep that up, I may flip you and fuck you instead, you naughty bastard," Warrick's answering chuckle was slightly breathless.
"You think I wouldn't want that?" Sawyer replied, amusement tingeing his words. His fingers stroked over the sweet spot expertly as a spiral of need threaded through him from Warrick's words. Letting his leg push upwards so that his knee nudged the back of Warrick's thigh, he slowly drew the finger back, and then pressed in another one with it, widening and stretching carefully.
His need fed him, and he wanted more than anything to be closer; to be deep inside this delicious man, but he wouldn't move too fast, remembering how much ill-treatment Warrick had received at the bath house. Hopefully, that was of no concern any more, but Sawyer wasn't going to risk any bad memories surfacing here.
Winding his spare arm upwards, Sawyer managed to get his hand onto Warrick's shoulder and rubbed his thumb in comforting circles on the muscle that jumped under his touch as he leaned in to lick at the ridge of spine in front of him.
As if he knew of Warrick's earlier unease, Sawyer appeared to be taking extra caution as he prepared Warrick. The loving care was seriously messing with Warrick's resolve to keep this on a casual level. Perhaps it was because that sweet kitten of a waif, Archie was already worming his way into Warrick's heart that he felt vulnerable. Sawyer was so easy to be around and they were equally matched in many ways that it would be so easy to fall completely under the spell of what his head knew would be empty promises in sea-foam green eyes.
Sawyer was ready and Warrick certainly seemed to be too. Pulling his fingers out quickly, Sawyer wrapped the greasy hand briefly around his cock, stroking it with what he hoped was enough lubrication for the job. This angle wasn't the easiest for gaining entry, but if Warrick was relaxed enough they'd manage.
"Relax; easy now," he muttered softly, guiding his cock to breech the heated hole. "Oh... oh yeah, that's good." It had been a while since Sawyer had done it this way, and pleasure skated up his spine as he slid in the first inch or two.
"Y'okay?" He held still, the hand on Warrick's shoulder tightening and the other sliding to grip at a hip.
He may not have done it much recently, but Sawyer certainly hadn't lost his touch. Warrick pushed back, encouraging Sawyer to go deeper, to just move! "More!" he growled, grabbing a handful of the bedding with one hand and using the other to bring Sawyer's thigh closer.
It felt good, very good. Sawyer might not have the girth Marton did, but he certainly knew how to use what he had to best advantage as he sank deeper, filling Warrick completely.
Oh yes! That was it! Sawyer was in as far as he was going, and judging by Warrick's encouragement, that was just fine. Taking a deep breath, Sawyer finally began to move.
The tightness was exquisite, and Warrick's movements only made things better. Starting off slowly, Sawyer jerked his hips in an increasing tempo, holding tightly to Warrick's body at hip and shoulder. Closing his eyes, he let his lips find delicious skin once more, alternating between light licks and nips at Warrick's neck.
Although Warrick was very different to either of Sawyer's other main partners, he found himself imagining first one-a familiar, beautiful love-making that he knew very well-and then the other-who he had never done this with. His heart pounded with the idea of how incredible that could be, should it ever happen.
"Oh..." Sawyer groaned, his climax beginning to coil from within his balls. He sped up, letting his hand seek Warrick's cock to stroke him in time with the now-rough thrusts he was making. His eyes opened and he took in the glistening dark skin, letting Warrick-and only Warrick now-flood his senses as his orgasm tore through him.
The long soft, well formed fingers wrapped around his cock; the tickle of silky hair at his nape and across his shoulder as Sawyer tasted his skin, all that and more harkened memories of Warrick's René. Sawyer and René were similarly built, but the resemblances ended there. That didn't stop Warrick from closing his eyes tight and letting his body blur the differences. Just for now let the arms holding him and stroking him be his love's. For this time only let it be René thrusting deep and shuddering as he spent himself deep in Warrick's body.
Biting into the pillow under his chin, Warrick arched his neck forward, giving his lover greater access. His fingers wound tighter in the bed sheets and thigh under his hand would show bruises later from the strength of his grip. Warmth stole over him, starting deep in his chest as it always had when he and René made love. 'The heat of their love' René had called it, warming and fusing to their very bones. Grunting René's name into the pillow, Warrick spilled over his lover's fingers, milking the last drops from the diminishing cock still buried deep within him.
"Je suis désolé," Warrick breathed, falling into an exhausted sleep, not knowing if he was apologizing to René for using someone else to recapture just a hint of their love, or to Sawyer for using him in that way.
Sawyer collapsed against Warrick's back as they both finished, releasing his grip on his cock and panting into damp skin as he pulled the man nearer and tried to catch his breath.
His hangover fully forgotten, Sawyer murmured, "Thank you," nuzzling into Warrick's nape. Too exhausted to even draw his cock out of Warrick's body, Sawyer's heart thumped against his back, slowly quieting as he finally came to the realization that his bed partner had fallen asleep on him.
"Some lover," he told himself softly, chuckling lightly as he gently withdrew his flaccid cock from the slippery channel. He offered Warrick's sweaty back a soft kiss, then flopped away to stare at the ceiling.
Warrick had barely gotten any sleep last night by all accounts, and now Sawyer had worn him out completely. Taking a few deep breaths, he rubbed a hand absently across his own chest as he let himself think about Naveen at last.
Giving Warrick's back another thoughtful glance, he couldn't help but wonder at what lay between him and his Dom. He had started seeing Naveen for punishment; feeling he had let down too many people in the past. Oh, the sex was incredible; the pain mixed with pleasure more amazing than anything he'd done in many years. What had developed between them had become so much more than simply one man wanting another to make him pay for past transgressions and then give him the freedom to sin again in absolute ecstasy.
Sawyer let a hand smooth down Warrick's side as he returned his gaze to the stained ceiling. He had tried so hard to get Naveen to pay attention to him outside of the Ruby Room, but the man played things so close to his chest that it had been too hard for Sawyer to read him. He'd prided himself on his ability to read most people. Naveen, though, seemed to escape his abilities completely.
And yet, there were hints; wisps of what could be between them, should they drop their façades. The kiss in the hallway had been one; something so strong hidden in it's power that Sawyer had to believe Naveen cared about him a lot more than he would admit. And last night: knowing Naveen had been the one who'd looked after him when Vin had knocked him out spoke of a kind of deeper sentiment than just him being one of Naveen's best clients.
And if that was so; if Naveen did indeed 'care'-because Sawyer really could not imagine he was in love with him any more than Sawyer could reach inside to admit his own feelings for Naveen to that level-then Sawyer had wronged him. The other men: his way of flaunting his conquests and casual encounters as if meaning to hurt Naveen; all of that probably made Naveen draw back even further, his natural aloofness taking over.
And him going off with Kate had probably been the last straw. They had discussed women before, but he had never done anything with one in such a humiliating-for Naveen-way before. With all the staff that had seen him and the way the girls gossiped, it was doubtful that Naveen hadn't felt, at the very least, put in his place.
Hot shame flooded Sawyer, imagining himself in Naveen's position had his Dom chosen a woman and left the room with obvious intentions to fuck her-and yet it would have been more understandable for him to do it.
The hand that had still been lightly caressing Warrick stopped moving, and Sawyer closed his eyes briefly. Opening them to study Warrick's softly slumbering frame once more, Sawyer heaved a sigh and levered himself off the bed.
Looking down at the exhausted man, he smiled warmly before pulling the blankets up over Warrick so he wouldn't wake with a chill, then stepped away to redress. Lighting a cigar, he sat down in his armchair and gazed back at the strangely comforting sight of Warrick sleeping in his bed.
What had happened with Warrick tonight was more revealing than he had imagined, and while he was extremely fond of the man he'd saved from the evils of lesser places than Freeman's, Sawyer knew that anything they could have would only come once he was certain there was nothing more between Naveen and him.
He had to see Naveen, and soon. Whether it was possible to talk to him; to even bring up the smallest part of all this, he didn't know; but if he didn't try, he would regret it forever.
Word Count: ~11,242
On to Chapter 92
Back to the beginning of Chapter 91
"Madre de Dios, that is a beauty," Warrick exclaimed as he looked down on the colorful bruise decorating the lower half of Sawyer's face when he saw the man's eyelids flutter. Thank goodness for that small movement. Upon entering Sawyer's rooms, Warrick's heart had stopped at how still the man was, sprawled across his bed. Then he'd noticed the empty liquor bottle and the glass on the bedside table.
Turning back to the door, Warrick waved off the Freeman's servants lingering there. Miss Marg was still with Sawyer's landlady, smoothing that woman's ruffled feathers that 'personages' from Sawyer's club were worried about his well-being and were stealing him away to recover at that 'establishment' instead of in his own bed.
The voice was one he recognized, though Sawyer couldn't immediately place it. Nonetheless, it stole through his dreams and forced him awake more fully. Blinking again, he aimed for focus on the brown face swimming above him.
Naveen! his heart screamed at first, but as he blinked again, Sawyer realized it was not his Dom.
Warrick. Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes once more as he let his heart settle back into a more even pattern, Sawyer was almost grateful it wasn't Naveen seeing him in this state. As he opened his eyes once more, the thought of Naveen witnessing him as he was made him remember where he was and a thumping began inside his head almost as if set off by the memory.
"Jesus, fuck..." he groaned as he sat up-or tried to-and immediately collapsed backward again. "Tell me you've come bearing more whiskey?"
Let that be so, because for the life of him Sawyer couldn't work out why Warrick would be in his room, unless he was hallucinating.
"I think you've had enough of that spirit. I've come... been sent, I should say, to haul your sorry hide back to Freeman's. Cook is on the warpath that you will pass out or expire without her 'loving care'." The corner of Warrick's mouth curved up as he stared down at his obviously hung-over friend.
"Now, so I can wrap up this last errand I have been tasked with, can you stand, or do I need to have the servants carry you out?" Having witnessed the tongue-lashing Cook delivered to the Chinese staff for letting Sawyer slip out of the house, Warrick knew anything other than returning with the patient in tow was unacceptable.
"I ain't going nowhere," Sawyer managed, tasting the interior of his mouth.
Damned fool; he knew he shouldn't have drunk himself into a stupor, but he really hadn't expected anyone to care enough to come after him.
"Just get me some water then, if you ain't got any more whiskey. Feel like something died in my mouth. There's a jug over there." Waving vaguely in the direction of the dresser at one side of the room, Sawyer made more of an effort and managed to pull himself into a sitting position.
He took a deep breath, trying to get the spinning to stop, and realized his clothes stank. Christ! What he needed was a good hot bath, and more rest, not Cook's idea of 'loving care' which he suspected was as likely to smother him-not to mention have her berating him endlessly for his foolishness-as cure him.
Warrick's head sank between his tired shoulder blades as he crossed the room for the water jug. Wanting to dash the contents over Sawyer's head for being obstinate, he hesitated before picking up the semi-clean glass next to the jug.
All he wanted was his bed... at this point, any bed. That was impossible until he returned to Freeman's... with the 'patient' in tow.
"Oh yes you are!" Miss Marg's slight frame filled the doorway. Dressed impeccably in a green day dress that complemented her coloring, hat set at a jaunty angle atop her up-swept hair, her artful application of powder and hint of rouge hid that she'd only managed two hours rest after the chaos of the night before.
"Oh great; the cavalry," Sawyer muttered, gesturing for Warrick to bring the glass of water to him. "With all due respect, Miss Marg, I am fine and you have no need to bother your staff with attending to me. Of course..." He glanced up at Warrick and winked as he took the glass from him. "...if you want to leave Warrick to help me in the bath and keep me company for a while, I won't say no."
He leveled the madam with a look as stubborn as he knew she could be. "Otherwise, you can take your entourage and return to Freeman's. I'm sure Cook would appreciate a current update, and I'll gladly send Warrick back in an hour or two to confirm that my well-being has been thoroughly checked."
He flicked his eyes back to Warrick and offered him an appreciative head-to-toe once-over. The man looked exhausted, truth be told, and Sawyer had a mind to wear him out further, then let him rest as long as he needed before he sent him on his way. They'd probably been using him as some kind of messenger service in Marton's absence; presuming he'd gone on the 'Eric-search' Marg had told him of last night.
"How's the search progressing, by the way?" he asked, giving his attention back to Marg as he pulled Warrick to a seat beside him on the bed. "See? Still got all my faculties," he smirked, "I haven't forgotten anything we discussed last night yet."
"Really?" Marg's voice dripped sarcasm as she took a step into the room. "Does that include where you accepted my gracious offer for you to stay at the house while the men are away?"
Personally, she was thankful Sawyer was his normal sassy and lusty self; obviously hung-over but not showing any signs of serious injury from the bump to the back of his head.
Frowning as he searched his memory, Sawyer exchanged a look with Warrick-not that he was likely to know either way-then focused back on Marg.
"To be frank with you, Miss Marg, I recall you saying I was welcome to stay as long as I needed to recover, not that I was invited to stay while Marton, and presumably the rest of the more masculine members of the household, went in search of Eric."
He paused, thinking. "Am I invited? Do you need me there?" He supposed he could agree to a compromise if they really did need more men about the place.
"Of course you were invited," Marg shot back with a dismissive wave of her hand. Truthfully, Sawyer might be right and she may have assumed she extended the invite as well as easing Sawyer's worry about having worn out his welcome at Freeman's. That hardly mattered now. They couldn't forcibly remove Sawyer from his lodgings... despite Cook quite vocally stating they do just that.
"We could use you at the house this evening... if you must insist on 'borrowing' Warrick for a few hours," the corners of Marg's eyes crinkled with amused indulgence, "at least allow the man some decent rest."
Turning her grin to Warrick, Marg waggled a finger. "As for you, stay or go, it's your choice. I suppose I could deflect some of Cook's fury if you stay by telling her you are merely assuring that Sawyer doesn't slip into unconsciousness from the bump to the back of his head."
Sawyer felt a small victory had been won; now all Warrick had to do was to agree to stay with him while he got cleaned up.
Perhaps he'd go over there later, and perhaps he wouldn't; he'd decide that in due course. Much as he wanted-no, needed, he managed to realize-to see Naveen again, he still wasn't completely sure he'd be up to casual meetings in hallways with the man. Especially considering what had happened last time you saw him in a hallway, his treacherous mind reminded him.
Swallowing hard, he gripped Warrick's arm and offered him a grin as he pushed the thoughts of Naveen out of his head. "C'mon; stay a while. You can help scrub my back. I promise not to make you work too hard. You can even rest a while before you're running back and forth doin' whatever it is they got you doin' that's worn you out. What d'ya say?" He gave Warrick his best persuasive look, hoping like hell the man would agree.
Warrick threw his head back as he laughed. "How can I resist such a generous offer... now that the two of you have decided my fate for the next few hours," he couldn't resist adding with another chuckle.
"Go ahead Miss Marg, I'll stay a while and make sure Mr. Sawyer safely maneuvers in the bath, and that everything is in working order."
Pleased to have gotten his own way, Sawyer nodded politely as Marg and the other servants took their leave. He sighed loudly, then turned to Warrick. "Come on then; I'll show you where the bathroom is. You can start my bath while I find something else to wear."
Letting Warrick stand, he held out a hand so the mulatto could help him to his feet. Groaning as he stood, he admitted, "I shouldn't have drunk the whole bottle, I don't suppose." A weak grin accompanied this statement, and he held onto Warrick for support as they made their way down the hallway.
"In here. Actually, perhaps I'll sit here and you can find the clothing once you've got that started. There's not much to choose from," Sawyer said as he lowered himself into the one straight-backed chair in the room. "There's a couple of shirts in the closet, and a pair of trousers too, but maybe my smoking jacket and the linen pants you'll find in the bureau would be better for now."
Blinking in amazement, Warrick checked that the bathroom door was closed. It was. He then looked around to verify that he and Sawyer were the only ones in the room. They were.
A muscle in his jaw flexing, Warrick crossed to the tub, studying the fixtures before turning on the appropriate taps to fill it with steaming water. Moving to a cabinet he pulled out a couple towels and a new bar of soap.
After arranging the items next to the filling tub, along with a scrub brush he found, Warrick moved back to the chair. Head bowed, he went down on one knee to lower himself below Sawyer's line of sight.
"Is there anything else Mas'sa requires?" Warrick asked in an obsequious slavish accent. The look in Warrick's eyes was anything but subservient as he tilted his chin up met Sawyer's gaze.
At first, Sawyer was a little surprised at Warrick's behavior, but then he gave him a sheepish grin, realizing his mistake.
Although Sawyer was used to asking for and receiving aid from the whores he paid, this wasn't quite the situation here and he knew it. Warrick was here as a favor, not as a paid servant. Sawyer had let his own misery and his hangover cloud his mind, and he didn't have the right to forget his friendship with this man.
"I'm not on the plantation any more and sometimes I need remindin'. I'm sorry, Warrick. I'm a hung-over fool, and Marg let you stay to help me, not to cater to my every whim. Would you mind givin' me hand, so I can stand up again, please? I'll go find the clothes if you wouldn't mind watching the water?"
"You stay and undress." Warrick reached up to place a warm hand on Sawyer's shoulder to keep him seated. "I'll go gather some clean clothing, eh?"
He knew deep down Sawyer hadn't meant to be so demeaning. However, Warrick respected himself and the friendship he and Sawyer had forged too much to allow the callow behavior to slide.
"Thank you," Sawyer replied, glad that Warrick wasn't going to hold his foolishness against him. He did feel rather worse for wear, truth be told, and staying where he was seemed much more appealing than making his way back to his room for clean clothing.
Warrick disappeared out through the door, closing it behind him, and Sawyer began to strip off his clothes. By the time Warrick returned, he was in the tub, smoking a cheroot. God, the water was good! He toyed with the tap with a toe, adjusting the temperature as he grinned around the cigar at Warrick.
"Think you'd better lock the door. Can't really say I'm up to much to be honest, but all the same, we don't need anyone walking in right now."
"Had I now?" Warrick grinned as he twisted the lock and then approached with a predatory spring to his step. The similarities as well as the vast differences from their first meeting were not lost on Warrick as he moved closer.
"Should I strip off so the bath water doesn't inadvertently splash on my attire?" he asked with an amused lofting of one eyebrow.
Hearing the promise in Warrick's voice, Sawyer twisted his neck to look up at him, an amused dimple making its presence in one cheek. He rolled his tongue around the cigar and removed it from his mouth before speaking.
"That sounds like a mighty fine idea." His voice had dropped already, and despite what he'd said, desire coiled low in his belly.
What a world of difference from the kittenish seduction by young Archie to this erotic man's actions. Sawyer's every move was designed to seduce, to overwhelm with passion. Warrick's body responded to Sawyer's siren call of flashing dimples and husky voice.
Warrick shed his clothes swiftly, enjoying the play of lusty interest deepening the sea-foam green of Sawyer's eyes.
"I will have you know I have no intention of kneeling on this hard tile, so slide that fine ass forward so I can slip in behind you," Warrick challenged with a lusty grin of his own.
Sawyer's dimples deepened as he watched with interested eyes as Warrick undressed. He was a fine specimen; there was no doubt. And perfect to take Sawyer's mind off his concerns for a while.
Tipping his head in assent, he planted the cheroot firmly back in his mouth and slid forward in the tub, leaving plenty of room for Warrick to climb in behind him. Already, anticipation was building at the thought of having those large hands on his skin, not to mention having other parts of his anatomy in very close proximity.
Sawyer's sultry looks had Warrick semi-hard as he climbed into the tub. The leanly muscled back under his fingers and the narrow hips sliding along Warrick's inner thighs as he sank into the water firmed him more.
This was no sweet waif with kitten licks and mews, but a virile man. A predatory tiger on the prowl, whose claws were twice as sharp and would be three times as lethal if Warrick let him too near his heart. Sawyer, like Archie, belonged to someone else. Friendship and casual sexual encounters were all he was entitled to.
"Was it your back alone you needed help scrubbing?" Warrick asked cheekily in a low purr that he could feel shiver across Sawyer's skin.
Sawyer's smirk widened as Warrick spoke. "Oh, I daresay other parts of me are pretty filthy too," he murmured before taking another puff on the cheroot. "Perhaps I should put this out for now, huh?"
Resting one hand on Warrick's firm calf beside him, Sawyer offered a sultry look back over his shoulder. He stubbed the end of the cigar out on the outside of the bath before checking it was no longer burning, and placing it carefully on the floor next to the tub.
Rolling his shoulders, Sawyer leaned forward to allow Warrick easier access to his back.
"Be sure to give me a sign when I get to a pretty filthy spot," Warrick whispered in Sawyer's ear. He lathered up a sponge and began slow swirling sweeps across Sawyer's shoulders and upper back. "Wouldn't want to miss anything that needs extra attention, right?"
"Definitely," Sawyer agreed with a low purr. This was definitely what he needed; not worry over what had happened with Eric and Hugh; not Naveen's deeply mysterious and compelling eyes; not Jack's sad and needy ones; not even the cards or the drink.
Pushing all of that out of his mind in favor of the heated desire rolling through him at every sweep of the soapy sponge across his back, Sawyer reached behind him for Warrick's spare hand and drew it around his body to find his firming cock.
"This could use some extra attention about now. It's feeling pretty filthy, wouldn't you agree?"
"Is it now?" Warrick stroked up and down the silky-hard length, pulling Sawyer back against him as he moved the sponge around to wash Sawyer's chest. His cock nestled perfectly at the top of Sawyer's crease, and Warrick leaned in to lick over the shell of his ear.
"We should not tarry long in this shared bathroom," Warrick's voice lowered to a husky growl, "Or, is it the risk of someone knocking that stirs your blood?"
Sawyer's grin spread across his face as he leaned his head back on Warrick's shoulder, delicious shivers of pleasure rippling through him.
"You should know by now, Warrick. There's always something to be had in the game of chance. You willing to risk it? Even if someone knocks, they can't get in here, although you're right, we might have to move quickly. But if you prefer, we can finish washing up, and spend a couple of delicious hours in my bed, where we can ignore any knocks on the door. Hmm?"
He turned a little, letting his tongue find a bead of sweat on Warrick's neck, playing with it as it ran down dusky skin.
Shivering as he knew Sawyer intended him to react to the licks, Warrick purred lowly, "You are dangerous, but you know that, oui?" Receiving a lusty chuckle as a response, Warrick nudged Sawyer's head around so he could tug lightly on an earlobe with his teeth. He licked the bit of flesh, then pulled it into his mouth to suckle. All the while, he kept up the torturously slow strokes on the cock in his hand.
"I could do this until we do push the limits and someone comes along and knocks, speeding up at that moment to see how quietly you can reach your peak. But then we'd be prunes sitting in cold water, instead of finding something to occupy ourselves on that wide, soft bed of yours."
The sponge forgotten and floating away in the bathwater, Warrick plucked Sawyer's nipples up to hard, soapy peaks, and then stopped all movement. Chuckling at the soft whine and lurch of Sawyer's body, Warrick reached for the shaving mug on the ledge. He dipped up some water and poured it over Sawyer's head, "In any case, we should get on with attending to the filthy bits by washing your hair. I do hope you don't intend for me to shave you as well."
Amused at the way things were heading, Sawyer didn't have a lot of choice on the hair wash, but he wasn't complaining.
"A shave is just gonna add to the time we're a-wastin', and I've been without one for longer than this," Sawyer agreed, closing his eyes and relaxing as Warrick's skilled hands began massaging soap into his hair.
"Oh, that's good... not as good as where you had your hand before, but I guess we can get back to that once we're in the bed." His smile grew, although he didn't open his eyes, imagining Warrick's dark skin contrasting nicely with the white sheets as he laid across Sawyer's soft bed with him.
Dipping up more water, Warrick tipped Sawyer's head back to rinse out the suds. "I could go back to where I had my hand before... but you'd only end up filthy again and we'd never get out of this tub."
The thought of stretching out on a nice bed was sounding more and more appealing, and not just because of the pleasurable antics he knew they'd get up to. Warrick suppressed a yawn as he fished out the sponge so Sawyer could scrub his limbs.
It didn't take a lot longer for them to finish up in the tub in the end. Sawyer had got to the point where the bed seemed more appealing, and Warrick obviously wasn't far behind on that thinking.
They continued to stir each other up with looks and caresses while they got dried and then both slipped back into the bare minimum of clothing so they would be decent for the walk back to Sawyer's room.
Once the door was shut and locked, Sawyer wasted no time in removing everything again, his eyes and smirk firmly fixed on Warrick as he did so.
"You know, I never expected such a treat today," Sawyer murmured, moving closer to Warrick and sliding hands under his shirt to stroke across the still-damp skin underneath.
"Nor did I," Warrick purred at the warm fingers caressing his skin. Eyes reflecting heightened lust, and probably some of his exhaustion, he started backing Sawyer toward the bed. "Since you so skillfully managed your own attire, mind assisting with removing mine?"
"No problem," Sawyer smirked, despite the fact that he was being moved backward. Sliding his hands further under the shirt, he stopped moving his feet long enough to raise it over Warrick's head and drop it, his eyes on Warrick's the whole time.
Letting Warrick steer him closer to the bed once more, Sawyer's fingers danced at the waistline of the other man's trousers until he felt the bed behind him. His eyes dropped to Warrick's lips and he remembered the taste of them; how desperate he'd been to kiss them that day in the garden. Blinking as that thought led to how he'd kissed Naveen just days later and what that had made him feel, he flicked a startled look back to Warrick's eyes, before dropping rapidly to sit on the bed, tugging at Warrick's pants.
He couldn't kiss Warrick. It would only confuse him more, and something he didn't really want to acknowledge deep inside told him that this-of all things-would be the greatest disloyalty to Naveen. Forcing the thought away as he lowered the trousers to reveal Warrick's impressive cock, Sawyer smiled back up at the man's face, and then leaned in to suckle the darkened cock-head, hands gentle against Warrick's slim hips.
"Ah God..." Warrick gasped, hands falling heavily on Sawyer's shoulders to keep him upright. "Unless that is all you want of me, this will be over much too soon if you continue." The more Sawyer used his talented tongue, the more blood flowed down to fill Warrick's cock. Despite often being the aggressor during their encounters, Sawyer had bottomed the time they had 'danced' at the party. Also, although most of that time was still hazy, Warrick half-remembered Sawyer asking to be fucked the night they met, and that somehow leading to the 'punishment' from Pence before Sawyer led Mr. Marton and the others on the rescue mission.
"Of course." Warrick's voice dropped lower, huskier. "If it is me you want bent over the bed while you use that lovely cock I had a hold of earlier, I wouldn't complain either," Warrick offered, a dimple appearing as one corner of his mouth quirked up.
Sawyer swirled his tongue around the head of Warrick's cock once more before pulling off wetly and tilting an eyebrow as he gazed up at him. Being offered such a thing hadn't entered Sawyer's head; he was usually the one who got fucked-except in certain situations which he definitely wasn't going to think about right now.
However, the thought of being with someone in both ways did send an incredible thrill right through his system and his dick throbbed all the harder at the prospect.
"Can't say I'd be complaining, if that's what you want?" he said, turning it into a question. If Warrick was sure, then he would do it. Perhaps this was closer to what he needed right now than anything had been in a long while.
A man with whom he could truly be equal. Heart pattering in anticipation, he let his interest show in his eyes as he waited for Warrick's reply.
And when Sawyer's eyes twinkled like that, any question forming on those sultry lips was irresistible to respond with anything but assent. "Mm hmm, I look forward to feeling you give me your 'best shot', shall we say?" Warrick's answering grin was unrepentant as he pushed on Sawyer's shoulders until he landed on his elbows on the bed. Toeing off his boots, Warrick stripped off his trousers and climbed on after his friend and casual lover. This bit of unplanned afternoon sexual antics was just what he needed to come to grips with the emotions stirred up earlier with Archie and his 'master', Inspector Stokes.
Sawyer's smile grew wider as he was pushed backward. Stretching out next to Warrick on one side, he forgot how he wasn't going to kiss him and leaned in, seeking the full lips as he stroked a hand down Warrick's flank.
Letting his tongue twine around Warrick's, he stroked smooth skin, marveling at the heat in it. How easy it was to forget both Matt and Naveen in this man's company. Finally pulling back from the delicious mouth, he pressed his forehead against Warrick's, noting the difference in their bodies.
"Which way would you prefer?" Sawyer's heart stuttered for a moment, remembering how much care he usually took with Matt; how the gentle caressing and considered study of his reactions had always made everything so perfect with them. Perhaps it would be easier to have Warrick on his stomach, so they didn't have to look at each other. Something in him wanted to avoid the kind of intimacy he'd always had with Matt, and yet... to look into the depths of jade eyes while he plumbed the man's body would give him as much pleasure as his cock would.
Unable to even contemplate how something like this would be with Naveen-it being so far outside of anything they did together-Sawyer tried not to let Matt's face into his thoughts as his hands kept moving on the velvety skin within his reach.
Warrick watched emotions pass over Sawyer's face; emotions that the man probably wasn't aware were evident, and certainly Warrick was not entitled to question.
"The bed is soft and my knees aren't what they used to be," Warrick answered, licking at Sawyer's taste on his lips. "I think we'd both have better maneuverability this way..." He twisted his lower body away from Sawyer, hissing in pleasure when Sawyer followed, his cock aligning with Warrick's crease.
Sawyer's smile faltered when Warrick moved, but the position was better than many he could have chosen. Completely different to the way he and Matt approached things for the most part, and nothing like anything he'd done with Naveen-although of course, they always did things the other way around.
Their bodies fitted so perfectly, and Warrick was... Sawyer swallowed, not letting the thought continue. This was just sex, for Christ's sake!
Reaching under the pillow for the pottle of grease he kept there, Sawyer rapidly unscrewed it and dug out a dollop, replacing the lid and pushing it quickly out of the way. He let his hand move between them, shifting back a little so he could find Warrick's pucker as he began to kiss the soft skin under the mulatto's ear.
Warrick shivered under the touch; both touches. He'd only been with a select few at the house, and everyone there was adept at taking great care in preparation. Certainly a frequent, preferred client like Sawyer was equally adept. The frisson of unease that skittered down his spine had no place in this casual encounter. Sawyer was not out to purposely harm him; Dieu, Sawyer had saved him. His momentary case of nerves was only the remnants of abuse he'd suffered at the hands of Pence and his goons and depraved clients, as Marton had often reminded him. It wasn't physical harm that Sawyer could cause him. It was the emotional harm if Warrick didn't remember to keep things casual with this dangerous tiger.
Sliding his upper thigh higher, Warrick gave Sawyer more access. "You having trouble finding your target?" Warrick taunted lightly, sending a wicked grin over his shoulder.
Sawyer snorted lightly, sending a puff of air across the skin he'd just kissed.
"I know exactly what I'm aimin' for; believe it. I may not do it this way much these days, but I haven't forgotten a thing." His voice was low and sultry, the words practically breathed into Warrick's ear as his finger slid slowly but surely into the gap it sought.
"Ungh, yes..." The shiver Sawyer's voice sent down Warrick's spine was a much better one. Slim fingers prod gently until they reached a particular goal. Sawyer's lusty chuckle filled his ear as Warrick's body reacted to the tap on his prostate.
"You keep that up, I may flip you and fuck you instead, you naughty bastard," Warrick's answering chuckle was slightly breathless.
"You think I wouldn't want that?" Sawyer replied, amusement tingeing his words. His fingers stroked over the sweet spot expertly as a spiral of need threaded through him from Warrick's words. Letting his leg push upwards so that his knee nudged the back of Warrick's thigh, he slowly drew the finger back, and then pressed in another one with it, widening and stretching carefully.
His need fed him, and he wanted more than anything to be closer; to be deep inside this delicious man, but he wouldn't move too fast, remembering how much ill-treatment Warrick had received at the bath house. Hopefully, that was of no concern any more, but Sawyer wasn't going to risk any bad memories surfacing here.
Winding his spare arm upwards, Sawyer managed to get his hand onto Warrick's shoulder and rubbed his thumb in comforting circles on the muscle that jumped under his touch as he leaned in to lick at the ridge of spine in front of him.
As if he knew of Warrick's earlier unease, Sawyer appeared to be taking extra caution as he prepared Warrick. The loving care was seriously messing with Warrick's resolve to keep this on a casual level. Perhaps it was because that sweet kitten of a waif, Archie was already worming his way into Warrick's heart that he felt vulnerable. Sawyer was so easy to be around and they were equally matched in many ways that it would be so easy to fall completely under the spell of what his head knew would be empty promises in sea-foam green eyes.
Sawyer was ready and Warrick certainly seemed to be too. Pulling his fingers out quickly, Sawyer wrapped the greasy hand briefly around his cock, stroking it with what he hoped was enough lubrication for the job. This angle wasn't the easiest for gaining entry, but if Warrick was relaxed enough they'd manage.
"Relax; easy now," he muttered softly, guiding his cock to breech the heated hole. "Oh... oh yeah, that's good." It had been a while since Sawyer had done it this way, and pleasure skated up his spine as he slid in the first inch or two.
"Y'okay?" He held still, the hand on Warrick's shoulder tightening and the other sliding to grip at a hip.
He may not have done it much recently, but Sawyer certainly hadn't lost his touch. Warrick pushed back, encouraging Sawyer to go deeper, to just move! "More!" he growled, grabbing a handful of the bedding with one hand and using the other to bring Sawyer's thigh closer.
It felt good, very good. Sawyer might not have the girth Marton did, but he certainly knew how to use what he had to best advantage as he sank deeper, filling Warrick completely.
Oh yes! That was it! Sawyer was in as far as he was going, and judging by Warrick's encouragement, that was just fine. Taking a deep breath, Sawyer finally began to move.
The tightness was exquisite, and Warrick's movements only made things better. Starting off slowly, Sawyer jerked his hips in an increasing tempo, holding tightly to Warrick's body at hip and shoulder. Closing his eyes, he let his lips find delicious skin once more, alternating between light licks and nips at Warrick's neck.
Although Warrick was very different to either of Sawyer's other main partners, he found himself imagining first one-a familiar, beautiful love-making that he knew very well-and then the other-who he had never done this with. His heart pounded with the idea of how incredible that could be, should it ever happen.
"Oh..." Sawyer groaned, his climax beginning to coil from within his balls. He sped up, letting his hand seek Warrick's cock to stroke him in time with the now-rough thrusts he was making. His eyes opened and he took in the glistening dark skin, letting Warrick-and only Warrick now-flood his senses as his orgasm tore through him.
The long soft, well formed fingers wrapped around his cock; the tickle of silky hair at his nape and across his shoulder as Sawyer tasted his skin, all that and more harkened memories of Warrick's René. Sawyer and René were similarly built, but the resemblances ended there. That didn't stop Warrick from closing his eyes tight and letting his body blur the differences. Just for now let the arms holding him and stroking him be his love's. For this time only let it be René thrusting deep and shuddering as he spent himself deep in Warrick's body.
Biting into the pillow under his chin, Warrick arched his neck forward, giving his lover greater access. His fingers wound tighter in the bed sheets and thigh under his hand would show bruises later from the strength of his grip. Warmth stole over him, starting deep in his chest as it always had when he and René made love. 'The heat of their love' René had called it, warming and fusing to their very bones. Grunting René's name into the pillow, Warrick spilled over his lover's fingers, milking the last drops from the diminishing cock still buried deep within him.
"Je suis désolé," Warrick breathed, falling into an exhausted sleep, not knowing if he was apologizing to René for using someone else to recapture just a hint of their love, or to Sawyer for using him in that way.
Sawyer collapsed against Warrick's back as they both finished, releasing his grip on his cock and panting into damp skin as he pulled the man nearer and tried to catch his breath.
His hangover fully forgotten, Sawyer murmured, "Thank you," nuzzling into Warrick's nape. Too exhausted to even draw his cock out of Warrick's body, Sawyer's heart thumped against his back, slowly quieting as he finally came to the realization that his bed partner had fallen asleep on him.
"Some lover," he told himself softly, chuckling lightly as he gently withdrew his flaccid cock from the slippery channel. He offered Warrick's sweaty back a soft kiss, then flopped away to stare at the ceiling.
Warrick had barely gotten any sleep last night by all accounts, and now Sawyer had worn him out completely. Taking a few deep breaths, he rubbed a hand absently across his own chest as he let himself think about Naveen at last.
Giving Warrick's back another thoughtful glance, he couldn't help but wonder at what lay between him and his Dom. He had started seeing Naveen for punishment; feeling he had let down too many people in the past. Oh, the sex was incredible; the pain mixed with pleasure more amazing than anything he'd done in many years. What had developed between them had become so much more than simply one man wanting another to make him pay for past transgressions and then give him the freedom to sin again in absolute ecstasy.
Sawyer let a hand smooth down Warrick's side as he returned his gaze to the stained ceiling. He had tried so hard to get Naveen to pay attention to him outside of the Ruby Room, but the man played things so close to his chest that it had been too hard for Sawyer to read him. He'd prided himself on his ability to read most people. Naveen, though, seemed to escape his abilities completely.
And yet, there were hints; wisps of what could be between them, should they drop their façades. The kiss in the hallway had been one; something so strong hidden in it's power that Sawyer had to believe Naveen cared about him a lot more than he would admit. And last night: knowing Naveen had been the one who'd looked after him when Vin had knocked him out spoke of a kind of deeper sentiment than just him being one of Naveen's best clients.
And if that was so; if Naveen did indeed 'care'-because Sawyer really could not imagine he was in love with him any more than Sawyer could reach inside to admit his own feelings for Naveen to that level-then Sawyer had wronged him. The other men: his way of flaunting his conquests and casual encounters as if meaning to hurt Naveen; all of that probably made Naveen draw back even further, his natural aloofness taking over.
And him going off with Kate had probably been the last straw. They had discussed women before, but he had never done anything with one in such a humiliating-for Naveen-way before. With all the staff that had seen him and the way the girls gossiped, it was doubtful that Naveen hadn't felt, at the very least, put in his place.
Hot shame flooded Sawyer, imagining himself in Naveen's position had his Dom chosen a woman and left the room with obvious intentions to fuck her-and yet it would have been more understandable for him to do it.
The hand that had still been lightly caressing Warrick stopped moving, and Sawyer closed his eyes briefly. Opening them to study Warrick's softly slumbering frame once more, Sawyer heaved a sigh and levered himself off the bed.
Looking down at the exhausted man, he smiled warmly before pulling the blankets up over Warrick so he wouldn't wake with a chill, then stepped away to redress. Lighting a cigar, he sat down in his armchair and gazed back at the strangely comforting sight of Warrick sleeping in his bed.
What had happened with Warrick tonight was more revealing than he had imagined, and while he was extremely fond of the man he'd saved from the evils of lesser places than Freeman's, Sawyer knew that anything they could have would only come once he was certain there was nothing more between Naveen and him.
He had to see Naveen, and soon. Whether it was possible to talk to him; to even bring up the smallest part of all this, he didn't know; but if he didn't try, he would regret it forever.
Word Count: ~11,242
On to Chapter 92