Don’t you want to make love?
I could ask. Or maybe,
Why don’t you want to make love?
would be the better question. I knew he wanted me—it was in his eyes whenever he looked at me; it was in the hard press of his body against mine when we kissed good night; it was in his tight grip on my shoulders as he reluctantly pulled away. And that was the part I simply wasn’t getting: the reluctance. Was it the dead lover? Was it some internal timetable he had? Was he waiting for some sort of signal from me? I wanted to be patient because David was kind and funny and an incredible listener. He deserved to move at his own speed. However, it didn’t matter how many times I told myself that; my lust kept revving like an impatient sports car at each new stoplight.
I still didn’t have a clue what to say when he appeared at 3:15, during the slowest part of my day.
“Where’s everyone?” David’s wide smile cut past all my frustration. He glanced around the deserted atrium. The heading-home traffic would justify my afternoon hours, but this time of day was my dead zone.
“I ate them.” I grinned up at him. No pissy mood could withstand the sight of David in a suit. Dark gray with a subtle stripe, it made him look like a very expensive truffle waiting for me to unwrap. And a David who’d broken his routine just to squeeze in a visit with me? Yeah. I was mush.
“Have a drink with me?” He gestured at the espresso machine.
“Sure.” As usual, I was overcaffeinated, so I made myself a mint tea. “You want your regular?”
“Let me see . . .” He studied the specials board. “What the heck? No one
really
drinks banana caramel coffee, do they?”
“It’s a latte, not coffee.” I adopted a fake snooty voice. “And it was big-time popular this morning.”
David gave a fake shudder as he turned back toward me. “How about you make that mocha thing you talked me into last week?”
“A turtle? It’s got caramel too. Better watch out: next thing you know, you’ll be begging me for all sorts of crazy.”
“Never know. I just might,” he said softly, and my heart fluttered.
“Yeah?” I put up my
BACK SOON
sign and followed him to the closest table. “You’re in a good mood this afternoon.”
“One of our biggest donors sent over box tickets for Saturday’s Timbers game. Whole office gets to go.”
“Neat.” I tried to match his level of enthusiasm. I wasn’t much into sports. David was the nerdy type of fan, waxing poetic over statistics and advanced analytics. My dad was more the yelling-at-the-TV type of sports fan, but thanks to him I had a working vocabulary to discuss David’s favorite teams. Luckily, David was happy to listen to me go on about this season’s
Design Star.
It all balanced out.
“You want to come?” He cocked his head to one side, waiting.
My heart skipped a beat as I realized he’d walked over to the atrium just to ask me.
“Sure.” I’d endure far worse things than a soccer game for this man.
“Good. My boss said we could bring family or a friend or whatever.”
“So tell me,” I said, unable to resist, “do I qualify as a friend or as a whatever?”
“Friend,” he said, nodding. “You could never be just a whatever to me, Robby.” David gave one of his patented smiles—lust in his eyes, tenderness around his mouth. I was toast. How could I argue with the Smile?
Mutely, I nodded my agreement.
Chapter 5
A
s expected, David introduced me as his friend. I really was grateful he’d telegraphed his intent earlier in the week; I’d had a chance to focus on the bright side of meeting David’s work friends. It helped that we’d had a nice long chat on the phone the night before—one of those meandering conversations in which we ended up swapping childhood summer vacation stories before noticing we’d been on the phone for two hours.
The party atmosphere in the box helped too. In addition to the seats overlooking the field, the space included a catered buffet and a cash bar. A microbrew and a veggie burger made me a cheerful guy.
“A vegetarian option all it takes to make you happy?” David asked. His green Timbers polo gave his brown eyes a hazel cast that I found very sexy.
“I’m easy.”
“That so?” David arched one bushy eyebrow, holding my gaze as he took a long sip of his beer. For all he’d “friended” me, he wasn’t exactly playing things closeted. He’d been more flirty than usual, and his second beer had him standing closer to me, brushing against my shoulders.
It was almost like he was . . . testing the waters. Easing into something. The idea made my chest tighten. It was easy to forget that this was all new to him—being out, big-city living. On the phone, I had asked if he was out at work.
“
Um. It hasn’t really come up before. There are other gay people there, though, so it’s not like it’s some big issue like it would have been back home.”
That answer hadn’t given me a lot of clarity to go on, but I didn’t want to break the spell of casual touches and loose laughter. This side of David—the giddy boy getting to watch the game from the fancy seats—made my heart all warm, made me want to cuddle him up.
“You want another beer before we sit down?” he asked.
“I can get it,” I offered since he was one of the few people paying any attention to the game. Most people loitered to the back and sides of the box, gossiping or chasing kids who refused to stay seated.
“Nah. I need to find the facilities too.”
The facilities.
That was my old-fashioned man. I hid a smile as he walked away.
I spotted a two-mom couple trying to corral twin toddlers. My gut did a weird flip and my neck got all prickly as I got a glimpse of a future I hadn’t realized I’d wanted. Lord knew my ass of an ex hadn’t been the settle-down type. Hadn’t even been the live-together type. I couldn’t exactly bring up adoption to a guy who let his parents believe he had an overseas missionary girlfriend. But for the first time, I wondered if I would ever be a parent. Be partnered together with someone for decades, not a few months or even a couple of years.
I hadn’t ever met someone I could see keeping around for decades, but David had this solidness to him. A steadiness that made me want to lean into him. Yeah, I could picture him painting walls or mowing grass. His dependability was a huge part of the attraction for me.
I hadn’t been able to count on a lot in life—all the moves as a kid, grad school that never panned out, boyfriends who moved on, an uncertain business climate. David seemed like the sort of guy to be as unwavering as a Douglas fir. His trust might be a tad difficult to earn, but there was never any question for me of whether it would be worth it—loyal guys like him didn’t show up every day.
I didn’t realize I’d been staring at his retreating form until a feminine voice said, “You guys are so cute.”
“Well . . . um . . .” I honestly had no clue what to say. “Thanks” was on the tip of my tongue, but I had no idea how David would feel about her comment.
“I’m Carol.” The midforties blonde saved me from more floundering. “I work with David in accounting. I’m so delighted he brought someone.” She gave me a conspiratorial smile—one I wasn’t sure whether to return.
“Fun night.” Stunning conversationalist I was not.
“We had a bet.” Carol’s hair was swept back in a gold clip and her Timbers shirt with matching scarf and denim skort gave her a youthful look. I could totally picture her as a cheerleader, trying to ensure all her friends had
fun.
“A bet?” My stomach sank.
“Oh, not a mean one.” She lightly tapped my shoulder. “Betsy in public relations and I decided that David
must
be seeing someone. He’s seemed so much happier lately.”
“He has?” I forgot I was supposed to be playing it cool.
“Totally. Lighter. He jokes even. Before . . . well, even now sometimes, there’s just always this seriousness about him. Like a sadness almost, you know?”
“He’s a great guy.” I did know exactly what she meant—it was the deep weariness that dogged even his widest smiles, but it felt disloyal to admit it.
“How about I introduce you to some of the girls?” Carol, my new, self-appointed BFF, herded me over to a group of women. I felt both welcomed and a bit like an exhibit at the gay petting zoo. I collected multiple invitations to go shopping. No offense to the ladies, but I’d rather get my eyebrows waxed off than shop for women’s shoes.
But I smiled and made nice and tried not to overtly out David, walking a tricky line between flattery and reticence.
“There you are.” David clapped me on the shoulder, an affectionate squeeze that rippled all the way down my back. “Come watch the game.”
I made my good-byes to the ladies and followed him back to the seats.
“You making friends?” he asked as we settled back into our seats. Although we were up high, we had a killer view of the soccer field, supplemented by the huge Jumbotrons.
“You mind? Carol kind of dragged me over there.”
“Why would I mind?” He laughed. “Carol’s great. Bit pushy, like my sister, but I was hoping you’d like her.”
Fresh warmth flooded my chest and his words gave me something new to obsess over as the game got underway. David tried explaining what the stats flashing on the Jumbotrons meant, but I was lucky I could tell which team had the ball—though the roar of the crowd was a pretty good clue. The antics of Timber Joey kept the green-and-yellow-clad crowd active even though Portland was trailing. Since the mascot was a larger-than-life, bear-tastic lumberjack, I didn’t mind watching him one bit. As the lazy August night descended over the stadium, the lights went up and the crowd thinned out as sleepy children were carried out and tipsy partners rounded up.
David leaned forward, studying the field, still invested in the game. I was only too happy to soak up the evening, rubbing ankles and knees with him, enjoying my beer. This was the most datelike outing we’d had, and I hated to see it end. He grabbed my knee when Portland tied the score at 2 even. Timber Joey revved up his chainsaw to celebrate, but my own motor was already humming from David’s touch. When they pulled out the win on a last-second play, David tossed an arm around my shoulders, and for a split second I thought he might kiss me.
“You drive?” I asked as we headed for the exits.
“You kidding? Parking around here?” David laughed like I was insane. Which I was. “No. I’m only a few MAX stops away.”
Damn.
I’d been counting on a long good-bye, one that wasn’t happening at the well-lit rail stop. Spotting a narrow service hallway, I tugged on his hand until we were deep in the shadows, far removed from the rest of the postgame crowd.
“What are you up to?” He offered me a bemused smile, one that said he had a pretty good guess. Heat rushed through me.
“Saying good night.” I stretched up to kiss him.
Meeting me eagerly, he took over the kiss with quick nips at my lips before his tongue slid over mine, heavy and insistent. My dick went instantly, painfully hard, and I moaned into his mouth. Hands sweeping down my back, he sucked on my lower lip.
“Good night,” he said before kissing me again. We traded kisses for several long minutes, time stretching out like a river of honey, thick and sweet.
“I should go.” He broke the kiss, resting his forehead against mine. “But I wish we could do this all night.”
“Me too. How about I ride up to your stop? We can say good-bye again there.”
“You’d ride in the opposite direction just to say good night a second time?” His husky voice sounded confused but not disinterested. Sweat beaded where our foreheads touched, and his hand was warm against my back.
“Absolutely.” Hadn’t he realized that there wasn’t much I wouldn’t do for him? “For more kisses with you? I’d ride all the way to Hillsboro.”
“Well, all right then.” He smiled shyly as we resumed our trek to the MAX stop. He was quiet on the walk and the train, but when he touched my arm or brushed my side, anticipation crackled between us. As we exited the train, he looked around, craning his neck in an exaggerated sweep of the area.
“This is still kind of public for . . . good night.” His cheeks turned bubblegum pink and I wanted to gobble him up. He was lucky I didn’t jump him right there.
“I’ll walk you to your building.” I was happy to accept whatever flimsy excuse he needed to get me to his doorstep. Fortunately, he lived only a block and a half away in a small mid-century apartment building.
“This is still pretty out in the open.” I gestured at the flat façade of the brick building. “I better walk you up.”
“All right.” His reply was so soft I had to strain to hear it. After typing an access code, he led us into a tiny marble lobby that had a flight of stairs and a wall of mailboxes. I brushed up against his back. I wanted to melt right into his solid bulk. Stretching up, I dropped a kiss on the back of his neck.
“I’m on three.”
Oh, goody.
I’d feared he’d settle for the relative privacy of the lobby, but he grabbed my hand, pulling me toward the stairs. I was out of breath by the time we reached floor three and not entirely because of the climb. His apartment sat at the back of a narrow hall, fluorescent lights struggling to reach the deep shadows around his door.
“So.” His eyes darted around.
“So.” Tugging him closer, I wrapped my arms around his neck. I kissed him softly on the lips. “Good night.”
Not letting go of him, I crushed my body against his like I’d been dying to all night. Chest to chest, the collar of his polo shirt brushing my neck, our belts clinking together, finally feeling the heavy pressure of his dick next to mine. At that moment I wanted nothing more than a long, slow grind together, the kind that took hours, edging close and backing off until we were both left boneless.
I let out a soft huff as he abandoned my mouth to tongue along my jaw and neck. Goose bumps broke out down my back and my dick strained against my pants. His erection pressed against my hip. Forget slow. I was fast becoming obsessed with the idea of quick and dirty.
“David?”
“Mmm?” he mumbled against my neck, sending tingles all the way down my spine.
“Invite me in.” Leaning into him, I made my point with slow rocks of my groin against his. He paused so long I had to brace myself for the rejection. I stiffened my shoulders and pulled away, telling myself that he had to move at his own pace.
But
finally,
he turned and dug a set of keys out of his pocket. Unlocking the door, he held it open for me. Once inside, I did a quick once-over of the space, registering a sea of neutrals—brown leather couch, brown curtains, brown rug.
“Oooh.” His hands roaming all over my back cut my perusal short. His motions were hurried, almost frantic. My wish for leisurely lovemaking vanished. I pulled his shirt loose from his khakis and slid my hands along his bare back. The satin of his skin and the subtle ridges of bone and muscle felt so good I almost purred.
His breath came in harsh pants, like he’d raced the length of JELD-WEN stadium. His head fell back against the door. Moving my hands before they got trapped against the wall, I ventured to the fuzzy softness of his stomach. I knew exactly what I wanted next—what I’d been craving for weeks. Lust clearing away my usual reluctance to take charge, I undid his belt and his fly and dropped to my knees.
Not waiting for permission, I freed his hard cock from his boxers. They were the old-fashioned kind—crisp, light blue cotton. I spared a smile before licking the plump head of his cock.
“Ehhh. Um . . . wow.”
Wow
was exactly what I was going for. I lapped all around the slit and the sensitive underside. “You . . . don’t have to . . . wanted . . . for you to . . . oh,
fuck.
” The last was a strangled sound as I swallowed him deep. Darn near incoherent was even better than wow.
There were a few things in life I knew I was good at: pulling espresso shots, making pancakes, packing for a road trip, and giving head. I loved the weight of him on my tongue, the tremble in the thick vein snaking up his shaft, the salty slick taste. Making sure he knew how much I loved doing this, I moaned on the down stroke, running my hands up and down his thighs.
Wide enough to give my jaw a pleasant stretch, he was just long enough to test the limits of my deep-throating skills. But his muttered curses and whimpery moans were more than enough incentive to try to get him deeper. Wrapping my hands around his hips, I pulled him closer, using every trick I knew to relax my throat and take him all the way down to the base.
“Oh
fuck . . .
so good.” David never cursed—not when we got poor service, not when he got cheated out of a prime parking spot, not when his team lost. Knowing that I could unleash his dirty side made me giddy and I laughed as I pulled back.
“
Please.
Do that again.” His hands tangled in my hair, the sort of tugging and petting that made my pulse jump and my dick leak. I wanted to put a hand on myself, ease some of the pressure building in my balls, but this was too perfect, too right to move.
Besides, I could tell from the hitch in his breathing and the tremor in his cock that he was close, and I cared more about tipping him over the edge than about easing my own discomfort. I took him all the way to the root again, holding him there and swallowing hard around him.