Guys on Top 02 - Guys on the Side (19 page)

“How ’bout I make you one of my special mojitos?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

Angelo pulled open the fridge and bent over. “I hope my mint leaves are still fresh, otherwise I may have to improvise.”

Corey’s eyes traveled over Angelo’s body. He wore faded jeans that were in the Goldilocks zone, not too tight, not too loose, but just right. The brown sweater looked soft, and probably expensive, and matched the leather loafers on his feet.

Angelo straightened, letting the fridge door close. “Awesome, still fresh.” He turned toward the island and paused, holding his packet of mint leaves.

Corey looked away, pretending to examine the kitchen.
Shit. He caught me staring. Hope I wasn’t drooling.

Setting the mint leaves down, Angelo retrieved a bottle of liquor and mixers from a cabinet, then set about making drinks. “So, rough night, huh?”

“What
ever
gave you that idea?”

Angelo glanced up and smiled as he chopped the mint with a small knife. “You all right now?”

“I’ve never had an anxiety attack before,” Corey said. “They suck hard.”

“Yes,” Angelo said. “Anxiety attacks are not for sissies. Can I ask what brought it on?”

“Oh, you know.” Corey shrugged. “Stuff.”

Angelo held the glasses under the ice dispenser. “Ah, yes. ‘Stuff’ is generally the culprit.”

“Thank you for getting me out of there. I was ready to snap.”

After pouring the drinks, Angelo mixed in some diced mint, and slid one of them over to Corey. He pulled a stool out and sat diagonally next to him, the corner of the island between them. “I guess it’s only fair. I recall you putting a cold cloth on the back of my neck yesterday when I was in a bit of a state.”

“Yeah,” Corey said. “Odd, that. We’re taking turns.”

“With everything, it seems,” Angelo said. “You show up at my workplace, then I show up at yours.”

“It’s like Spy versus Spy, the nutcase edition.”

Nodding, Angelo stirred his drink with his finger. Corey tried not to stare when he popped the finger in his mouth to suck off the excess. “When I walked up to you outside the club, I knew right away something was off. I just felt this intense pressure on my chest, like everything was closing in, like people trying to pull me apart from all different directions.”

“
You
felt that?” Corey took a sip of his drink, which was tart and sweet and delicious.

“Is that what you were feeling?”

“Oh, yeah,” Corey said. “Right on the money.”

“Hmm. My nutcase powers kicking in, I guess.”

Corey looked into Angelo’s pretty eyes, trying not to get lost in them. “Did you feel anything from me when we talked yesterday? Besides deciding I was
sad
?”

Angelo nodded. “A little something, yes.”

Corey raised his eyebrows. “Well? You gonna make me interrogate it out of you?”

Angelo took a sip of his drink. “Okay. I’d hazard a guess that you’re in a similar situation as me, tasked with tending to other people’s emotional health all the time. Whether that’s through your work, your personal life, or both, I don’t know. But you seem to be under a lot of pressure.”

Corey nodded, thinking of Zach. “Yep.”

“Figured that like me, you need to escape from reality and go out and blow off steam sometimes.” He gestured to the letterman jacket Corey still wore. “That’s what all this is about. But what went wrong tonight?”

“Ha.” Corey shook his head. “Other people’s emotional problems followed me to the bar where I was supposed to be blowing off steam.”

“I see. I guess I don’t have to ask how that made you feel.”

“Is this therapy?” Corey picked up the mojito. “Because I should really be lying on the couch for this, shouldn’t I?”

“You can if you want.” Angelo grinned. “I could give you a massage.”

Corey spit out an ice cube.

“You all right?”

Meeting Angelo’s eyes, he saw something that gave him pause. There was a twinkle there, like he knew the comment would throw Corey off, and was enjoying it. It felt a little too much like flirting, and Corey wasn’t sure how to take it. “People don’t give
me
massages.”

“That was my point.”

“I thought your point was to make me choke on my drink.”

Angelo grinned, a slight blush climbing his cheeks. “Maybe that too. But I have to ask. When’s the last time someone took care of
you?
I get the sense you’ve been doing a lot of that for other people. But who massages the masseur, so to speak?”

“You’re good,” Corey said. “I’ll give you that. But before you go delving any deeper, you might want to ask yourself if you really want to hit the bottom of this Cracker Jack box. My recent stress has been of the intimate variety.”

“Because your relationship ended.”

Corey nodded.

“I understand if you don’t want to talk about that, but why would you think
I
don’t want to talk about it?”

“Because I’m gay. Duh.”

“So?”

“
So
, you’re straight. Straight guys tend to not want to hear about icky boy germ stuff.”

“I’m a psychiatrist.”

“A straight psychiatrist.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

Corey chuckled. “Oh, it matters.”

“I want to know you. I want to know everything about you.”

The breath left Corey’s lungs. Angelo held his eyes, electric tension crackling between them. Corey carefully set his drink down. “
Why?
”

Angelo looked down, black eyelashes brushing his cheekbones. His hand slid over, knuckles barely touching Corey’s. “I don’t know.”

Head spinning, Corey slid his own hand back, resting it on his lap.

I don’t know.

He tried not to think of Zach, and his ‘reason’ for cheating.

I don’t know
.

Angelo looked up at him, expression open and vulnerable, neck pulsing as he swallowed hard. He hadn’t argued when Corey called him ‘straight’, so what the hell was he doing?

“That’s right,” Corey said finally, picking up his drink and draining it. “You don’t know. You don’t know what you’re doing, Angelo. And I have
no
idea what I’m doing here.”

He set the glass down and hopped off the stool, then headed for the door. He’d call a cab or something. But Stewart was right. This was a recipe for disaster.

“Hey, Corey wait, where you going?”

“Someplace else.”

Angelo strode after him. “Why? What did I do wrong?”

Whirling around, Corey pointed at Angelo. “What are you playing at? Huh?”

Angelo moved toward him, eyebrows pinched. “What you mean, playing at? I’m not playing at anything.”

“Oh no? I’m not your experiment, Angelo. Whatever this little...flirt with the gay guy thing is you’ve got going on, I don’t need it. Are you straight, or are you not?”

“I don’t know what I am,” he said. “Do I have to define what I feel? Analyze it to death?”

“And what is it you
feel?
”

“I...I feel...”

“Curious,” Corey said. “That’s what you feel. Curious. And I don’t
do
curious. Goodnight, Angelo.”

He moved swiftly through the loft to the exit, and tugged open the heavy wooden door.

Angelo’s arm reached around him and slammed it shut with his palm.

Corey went still, feeling Angelo’s body heat as he closed in behind him. “What are you doing?”

Breath tickled Corey’s ear. “I’m not. Just.
Curious
.”

Oh, fuck
. Corey’s heart pounded, body responding to the electric charge, stronger than ever now that Angelo was so close. He swallowed hard. “Then what are you?”

Another warm puff of breath on his ear, then Angelo whispered, “Enraptured
.
”

Pressing his palm against the door, Corey blew out a breath as he steadied himself. “Good word.”

“Glad you like it.”

Corey remained there, trying to regain control. His breathing had become labored as excitement bloomed in his body, an excitement that didn’t give a shit about his mind’s reservations.

“Can you turn around and look at me? Please?”

Letting go of the door, Corey turned and faced Angelo, who was close enough for a kiss. When Angelo reached a hand toward his face, Corey involuntarily jerked back, his head thumping softly on the door.

Lowering his hand, Angelo frowned and took a small step back. His eyes traveled over Corey, then he gave his head a quick shake, and chuckled. “Well. This is all backwards.”

“Backwards?”

Angelo’s face was flushed, a nervous pulse evident in his neck. “When I fantasized about this, you were the one trying to seduce
me
. And I was the one pressed against the wall with that terrified look on my face.”

Corey’s stomach tightened, arousal and nerves wrestling for dominance. There it was. It was out there. No putting it back in the bag now. Angelo Nardovino was officially interested in him, and though he’d suspected as much, the sudden confirmation floored him. And apparently it showed. His first instinct was to hide his discomfort and shock, to deny it.

“I’m not terrified. You think I look terrified?”

Angelo smiled. “A bit?”

Corey’s ego protested, and he straightened up, comforted that he stood slightly taller than Angelo. He was always the one in control, but right now he felt like Angelo’s puppet, his body responding to every shift of his eyes, the rise and fall of his chest beneath the soft sweater, and a jittery excitement he hadn’t felt since high school made his legs weak.

Angelo huffed a nervous laugh. “Yeah. You look pretty terrified. But you also feel...I mean
I
feel...like I can feel you’re also feeling what I feel.”

“Say that five times fast,” Corey quipped.

Angelo’s head fell forward as he laughed.

“What is it you want from me, Angelo?”

The laughter stopped, and Angelo looked up.

Good
, Corey thought.
Now
he
looks terrified
. It emboldened Corey. But he also acknowledged that he
liked
the effect Angelo was having on him, the other man’s intenseness thrilling him in a unique way. It had a freshness to it, a ripe abandon that made Corey feel...
new
.

Angelo still hadn’t answered his question. The rise and fall of his chest gave away his nervous anticipation.

Remembering how Angelo had reached for his face moments before, Corey asked softly, “Do you want to touch me?”

Angelo inhaled sharply. “I think that’s obvious at this point.”

“Well, then.” Corey leaned back and rested against the door. “I’m just gonna stand here. I won’t move. I’ll keep my arms at my sides. And you show me whatever it is you’ve been thinking about doing.”

Angelo’s pale eyes widened. “Are you...sure that’s what you want?”

Corey nodded. “I’m sure. Show me.”

It was a come on, but it was also a dare, one he didn’t fully expect Angelo to accept. But Angelo moved tentatively toward him, and his mere closeness made Corey feel dizzy, thankful the door was there to support him.

As he’d done before, Angelo reached out with his hand. Pausing, he smiled shyly, then touched Corey’s cheek, dragging his fingers down along his jawline. Such a simple touch, but Corey shivered inside at the gentle intimacy.

Their eyes locked, Angelo’s darkening as his pupils dilated. His other hand came up, and he cupped Corey’s chin, dragging a thumb across his lower lip. Letting out a shuddering breath, Angelo abruptly let go of Corey’s face and stepped back.

Corey watched Angelo, wondering if he’d decided he wasn’t so curious after all. “Disappointing?” he joked with a grin.

Shaking his head, Angelo chuckled softly. “Overwhelming.”

“It’s okay,” Corey said. “We can stop this.”

“No way.” Angelo leaned in, threading fingers though Corey’s hair, just above his temple. “No fucking way,” he whispered, palm dragging down to the side of Corey’s neck.

Corey’s eyes closed as his breath quickened. He was used to men going right for his cock or jamming tongues into his mouth. That this here was turning him on so much was shocking, fascinating, and exciting as all hell.

He felt Angelo’s heat as he moved in closer, then a brush of beard stubble as he rubbed his face against Corey’s cheek, audibly inhaling. “You smell good.”

A whistle of breath escaped. “So do you.”

Angelo’s hands traveled down Corey’s cheeks, over his neck, then he gripped the edges of the silly letterman jacket he still wore. “Can I take this off you?” He leaned back, looking in Corey’s eyes, expression cautious.

Corey wasn’t sure he could speak, so he simply nodded.

Angelo slid the jacket over Corey’s shoulders. When Corey leaned forward, allowing it to drop to the floor, their chests made contact. Angelo sighed, then rested his forehead against Corey’s. His hands gripped Corey’s shoulders, then caressed down the length of his arms, stopping at his wrists.

Though he’d promised to just stand there and do nothing, Corey couldn’t help taking Angelo’s hands in his, linking their fingers together. He let out an involuntary gasp as Angelo lifted his arms and pinned Corey’s hands against the door on either side of his head.

Angelo eased back so they were eye to eye. His breath was labored, mingling with Corey’s as they simply stared at each other. Corey’s cock was already swollen, but when Angelo leaned in with his mouth and nipped his bottom lip, he felt about ready to bust through his jeans.

Pulling back, Angelo stared at Corey’s mouth, then met his eyes, once again wearing that questioning, cautious expression. “Does that count as touching?” Angelo whispered. “If I use my mouth?”

Corey nodded, probably a little too agreeably, and Angelo smiled.

“Good.” He released Corey’s arms, and his hands moved to his face again, stroking his jawline. Then he leaned in, lips brushing Corey’s cheek.

A soft groan escaped Corey as Angelo’s mouth traveled closer and closer to his, nibbling his way across his cheek. Angelo’s warm hands moved to his chest, palms gliding in a circle over his tee shirt, then suddenly his mouth was on Corey’s.