After the Scrum (10 page)

Why would he? Francis
wanted
Caddock. At a deep level, he craved everything about him. Resisting would be pointless and counterproductive.

The only worrying part of the day had been the almost constant contemplative look on Caddock's face. Plotting. The man had something up his sleeve. And
that
thought shouldn't have been nearly as arousing as it was.

Despite all their joking around, Francis knew Caddock had more than simply brawn going for him. A keen mind hid beneath all the muscles, and not one to be underestimated either. It made him want to get to know the man even better.

After spending hours touching dust-covered things, a bath had been his first priority when they arrived back at the hotel. Well, second actually. Sherlock had required a long walk, food, and a good brushing before settling down. Only then did Francis allow himself to enjoy the luxurious bathroom, sinking into the warm, bubbly water.

"Are you decent?" Caddock tapped lightly on the door.

"No."

"Perfect." Caddock entered, holding two long-stemmed glasses filled with what appeared to be champagne. "Drink?"

"What
are
you up to?" Francis accepted the glass while sinking lower into the water. The soapy bubbles covered his important bits. His less-than-subtle move earned him a bark of laughter from his intruder. He racked his mind for a safe—and non-nudity involving—topic of conversation. "Is supper ready?"

"Not quite." Caddock eased down to sit on the floor, his body squashed between the wall and the tub. "Got something you can eat in the meantime."

"
Prat
."
He noticed after a while that his normally ever-present dog was nowhere to be seen. "Did you lock Sherlock in the wardrobe?"

"Me?" Caddock's grin had
nothing
innocent about it. "Concierge found a large beef bone available at the butcher's. The little menace will be occupied for hours."

"Hours?"

"No cold noses where they shouldn't be." His blue eyes no longer held laughter, but something darker and deeper. He leaned forward on his knees, arms resting on the edge of the tub so they were practically nose-to-nose. "I've got a
number
of ideas for how to fill the time before we eat."

"Any of them legal?"

"Three out of five."

Caddock's arm slid into the water with hardly a splash. He trailed a finger across the top of Francis's knee. A slight pressure from the digit had him letting his legs fall apart, pressed against the smooth sides of the tub, allowing the hand to dip further down.

"Not so long ago, this would
definitely
have been illegal." Francis strived for casual. No need to let on how incredibly affected he was by the rough, calloused skin grazing over him under the water. "I'm in the bath to get clean, Caddock, not dirty."

"Oh, we'll get you clean. I'm flexible enough to do both." His hand moved firmly and steadily to stroke Francis. It took an embarrassingly short amount of time for him to be on the brink. Caddock gave him a wicked grin. "You're going to finish now, cub. Then I'll get you nice and fucking clean."

The command in Caddock's voice brought him there almost instantly. The things the man did to him. It was like being a teenager, but without the pimples, copious Byron quotes, and questionable clothing choices.

True to his word, the water was emptied then the tub refilled. The last time someone had bathed Francis, he was fairly certain he'd been a child. This experience felt entirely different and incredibly intimate.

It was sweet and obnoxious. Caddock particularly made a point to find every spot on his body that was even the slightest bit ticklish. He ended up dunked under the water when he sent a wave of suds at the man washing him.

They went into an all-out water fight. A massive tip would definitely have to be left for the housekeepers. The bathroom looked like a storm had blown through and left bubble bath
everywhere.

Caddock attempted to lift him out of the water only to slip in the suds, releasing him, on the now slick marble. He crashed onto his back with a painful-sounding thud. He grabbed Francis on the way down, causing him to bounce on his chest.

"Fancy meeting you here." Francis eased up. "You didn't break anything important, did you?"

"Too hard-headed to break my skull."

"I said anything
important.
" He got to his feet then held his hand out to help Caddock. Instead of lifting him up, he ended up on the floor for a second time. "Not the best idea I've ever had."

A familiar sound of nails on the slick floor told Francis that they'd drawn Sherlock's attention away from his bone. He sniffed both men then skittered out of the room. The sheltie had never been overly fond of baths.

"Something we said?" Caddock grabbed a large plush towel to wrap around Francis's frame. He, of course, took a moment to arrange the fabric, fingers teasing the spent body now partly shielded from view. "Ready for supper?"

"Pardon?" Francis blinked at him, shaking the wet hair out of his face. He'd lost himself for a moment. "Will you
stop
doing that so I can think clearly?"

Caddock flicked one of his nipples lightly then stepped away with his hands up. "I'll stop, but I can't promise you'll be thinking clearly."

Leaving aside the obvious truth of how much the man affected him, Francis grabbed a second towel to dry his hair. The water dripping into his face was driving him up the wall. It allowed him to at least try to appear suave.

The sound of the door chime pulled Caddock away to deal with room service's delivery of their meal. It gave Francis a chance to not only dry himself off, but dress and attempt to tamp down his arousal. He shouldn't be raring to go so soon.

Once Francis had determined Sherlock was still happy, curled up on a massive dog bed near the fire in his hotel room, continuing to gnaw away at his monstrously large treat, he made his way through to find Caddock chatting with the young woman who'd brought up their meal. She offered a smile to him before leaving with an empty tray under her arm.

If pressed the next day, Francis wouldn't have been able to remember exactly what they'd eaten. The brute sitting beside him worked endlessly to arouse him. From the innocently light accidental touches, to firm squeezes every once in a while, and the constant press of their thighs together, he was left with a heightened sense of awareness—never mind the permanent state of hardness.

Those thick fingers of Caddock's shouldn't have been capable of such deft, nimble touches. The meal was over before he even recalled having taken a bite of anything. The empty plate was his only proof that he'd eaten.

He'd thought they would move immediately towards the bedroom, with clothes flying.

He'd been right.

Partially.

Dessert had been next. It would
definitely
be something remembered for years to come. In fact, Francis wouldn't ever be able to look at chocolate fondue the same way again. It had seemed so unremarkable in the small, heated bowl.

The gleam in Caddock's eyes told another story. It might not have been the bedroom, but clothes definitely disappeared remarkably quickly. Francis thought it all went by in a blur.

So much so, it took a moment for him to register what had happened. With a practiced ease, Caddock had the table cleared and a naked Francis spread across it. The bowl of chocolate rested innocently in his hand.

"Might be a tad warm." Caddock held a spoon up high, allowing the liquid chocolate to drizzle in a curved line down the centre of his abdomen. Francis hissed at the sudden heat only to moan when Caddock began to lick up the sweetness. Caddock smiled. "Relax, cub, I've barely gotten started."

Easy for him to say.

Francis had never been adventurous sexually, at least, not outside of his vivid imagination. The molten chocolate dripped over sensitive parts of his body sent pleasurable shivers through him. Warm enough to excite, but not to hurt. He had no doubts this had been planned carefully.

One finger dipped into the bowl then brushed against his barely parted lips. Francis opened his mouth further, letting his tongue flick against the bittersweet chocolate. He sucked on the digit, giving a fine demonstration of what he'd do to other parts of Caddock when offered the chance.

"Still hungry, cub?" Caddock took a mouthful of the chocolate then replaced his finger with his tongue.

The chocolate-flavoured kiss was brief and tasty. Francis wanted off the table, but his wrists were grabbed and his arms lifted over his head. A stern glare told him to hold them there.

Interesting.

What followed was a slow torture of bites, licks, and teasing ticklish touches. He had no idea how the man had learned all of his secretly sensitive parts in such a short time. It felt like they'd known each other for years rather than the short time they had.

By the time the dish had been emptied of its liquid contents, both men were liberally covered in drying chocolate. The table and rug underneath it had splotches of it as well. He didn't want to even think about what the hotel staff would wonder when they saw the mess.

A problem for another day.

Lifting him up from the table, the Brute hefted Francis over his shoulder to carry him into the bath. His protests at being carted around like baggage were completely ignored.
Not surprising.
He glared at Caddock after being deposited in the standing shower that was attached to the tub.

"I'm having the strangest sense of déjà vu." Francis blinked then yelped in surprise when cold water suddenly hit his back. "
Caddock Stanford.
"

Caddock blinked at him in surprise. "You sounded remarkably like my mother just then. Don't do that. It's disturbing."

"Prat." Francis found himself pressed up against the cool tile of the shower. The water hitting his body slowly went from icy to a more comfortable warmth that began etching away at the sticky mess plastered to his body. "Haven't you tired yourself out of bathing me?"

Caddock pressed up against Francis's back, his hard shaft finding a comfortable home against his arse. "Not about the fucking bath, cub."

"Oh?" He flicked warm water into the Brute's face. "You have to admit it does appear to be about cleanliness at the very least. Doesn't it?"

And then a finger dragged down his spine to delve where Caddock's impressive length had rested a moment earlier. Francis found it impossible to stop his body from responding. He pushed against the welcome intruder, wanting to feel more—feel deeper.

"
My cub.
"

Francis's stomach tightened at the possessive growl. He sternly reminded himself swooning was
not
attractive or manly. Better to infuse a note of caution before Caddock carried them both away.

"Little early for using 'my', isn't it?" Francis impressed himself with his steadiness of his voice. He hadn't thought himself capable of stringing a sentence together at this point. "You have a lot to prove before I consider you worthy of the right to claim me as anything."

"I better get started then." Caddock twisted his finger around, eliciting a moan from Francis. "I don't think it'll take long."

Chapter Sixteen

Caddock

"Uncle Boo.
Uncle Boo.
" Devlin raced up the walk to launch himself at his beloved guardian. He giggled when he was swung up high into the air. "Again, again. Do it again."

Caddock hugged the lad tightly then tossed him high over his head, easily catching him on the way down. They both waved to his father (and Devlin's grandfather), who drove off without a word—strange. "Did you have fun this weekend?"

"Gwannie and Gwandad made toast soldiers." The little boy leaned in closer to whisper in his ear. "Yours taste better. Oh. I saw bunches of sheep. And Gwandad said a naughty word."

He found himself stunned into silence. He could count on one hand the number of times his father had sworn in his presence. "Did he really? Did your granny wash his mouth out with soap?"

"Ew, Uncle Boo." Devlin wrinkled his nose. He threw his arms around his neck while they headed into the cottage. "He said… he said... I don't 'member. Oh, I do. What's a poof, Uncle Boo?"

He almost dropped his nephew at the innocent, but emotionally loaded question. "Poof? Is that the naughty word Granddad said?"

"Gwandad said, 'no son of mine is a poof.' And Gwannie whacked him on the head with a spoon." Devlin seemed to find that bit particularly funny. "Then they went in the garden to talk all quiet so I wouldn't hear."

Sitting with his nephew in his lap in one of the comfortable leather armchairs in the den, Caddock explained some men liked other men instead of women. He carefully tried to avoid disparaging the lad's grandfather, but didn't hesitate to mention "poof" was a hurtful word. It was a word he should
never
use.

Devlin frowned seriously up at him, fingers fidgeting with the button on his jacket. "How come Gwandad was being a meanie? He called you a naughty name."

"Me?"

"You like Fwannie." He reached into his pocket to pull out a photo clipped from a newspaper that showed Caddock, Francis, and Sherlock together in Sussex in one of the tents. "Gwannie let me keep it. Can I go with you next time? Pwease?"

That was it?

"Of course." Caddock frowned at the image. "Where'd you get this?"

"Gwannie cut it out for me from a paper." Devlin wiggled off his lap to run towards the kitchen. He raced back seconds later. "Can I have a bickie, please?"

"One," Caddock said firmly before the pout could start. "There's shepherd's pie at Maggie's restaurant. If we go for an early lunch, maybe we can get a slice before they run out." He chuckled when Devlin ran off to clamber up onto the counter to grab his chocolate biscuit. "Only
one
, little Devil."

With his nephew briefly occupied, Caddock moved to his laptop to check in with his solicitor. He wanted to know where the hell a tabloid had gotten a photo of him from this weekend. It had been a while since the paparazzi had followed him around.