“How are you doing?” he asked with a kiss.
“That’s enough touching my butt-brain for one day.”
He laughed. “I love you, Cheese.”
“I love you, Mark.” We held each other. His hand occasionally crossed my hip and sometimes played with my butt. He didn’t push any further. We cuddled on the bed until I grew anxious because I hadn’t done much writing that day.
“Do you want to shower? If we’re going to go out tonight, then I need to do some work.”
He grumbled. “Can’t we stay in bed all day for once?”
“We’ve already been to see my apartment, introduced you to my cousin, and I got up this morning and did a lot of morning writing.”
“So you don’t have to do any more!”
“Wrong.”
“I love you,” he said. “How are you holding up? You were pretty nervous for me to meet Lynn.”
“I know. I was. Sorry for being so crazy this past week.”
“I’ll forgive you being crazy... if you move in with me.”
“Mark!”
“Babushka!”
I pushed him until that perfect smile finally fell from his face and he rolled off the bed.
“Shower. Get us dinner. I’ll do my work and then you can have me all night. I’ll go wherever you want to go.”
“To meet the Rhinos,” Mark said.
“The rhinos?”
“My friends at the club.” He had to explain further, since I was lost. “You’re the unicorn. We’re all the gay rhinos. You’ll love them. You’ve already met Chaz.”
“Have I?”
“Yeah. He works for Dima. He fit you for your suit. And he won’t let it go that he saw you in those ratty tighty whities.”
Oh, that Chaz.
“I remember him,” I said. “I’m feeling whiplashed. After your attitude in the morning, and then lunch. I think we should maybe skip the Rhinos. I don’t know how much new stuff I can handle in one day. Maybe we can do that next weekend... er... you won’t be here. I tell you what. We’ll go to your club during the week after you get home from work.”
“Is this your home?” Mark asked, rather pointedly.
I wanted to say something mean—Mark deserved a mean retort because of how often and forcefully he pressured me to move in with him. But I didn’t go there. “Yes,” I said honestly. “This is my home.” And so is my new apartment. And my parents’ house.
“Okay. That makes me a very happy man to hear that.” We kissed. He got up to shower. I watched him move—his movements were so athletic... like he was a work of masculine art. “I expect to have you home when I’m home. None of this ‘sleeping at your place’ business.” He was stern, but also playful.
I nodded.
Mark didn’t explicitly pressure me to move in with him for another month and a half.
And I was happy to get out of meeting the Rhinos. I needed to be emotionally and mentally fresh for a night of gayness. The lunch with my cousin had drained me (or maybe trying to be sexual with Mark had stressed me out)... and I didn’t realize how tired I was until I tried to get out of his bed. I just wanted to cuddle under the sheets... but I needed to get back to my work.
Maybe I could just recline here for a minute... let the sun keep me warm. Why is his apartment so cold? What a dunce.
Little did I know that there would be another major introduction that day.
I had returned to his apartment after our lunch and been focused on the inevitable introduction of his cock to my ass. That had taken all my focus and worry.
So I was not at all prepared to meet his sister Melanie. If Mark was a tornado, then she was a hurricane.
Mini Mark
Mark’s phone rang a minute after he jumped in the shower. I was still in bed resting. The ring prompted me to get up, though I didn’t look at his phone to check the number. Instead, I walked out to the kitchen and poured myself some orange juice. Then I woke up the computer and loaded the article I was supposed to be working on.
Mark’s phone rang again. I paused my writing and got to my feet with the intention of handing him the phone now that he was done with his shower.
There was a knock on the door. I stopped mid-stride and headed for the front door, then peered through the peephole. The visitor was a young woman that I did not recognize.
“Open up, shithead,” she said, rather brutally. She had her phone in one hand. It must have been this stranger who was calling Mark’s phone.
I gulped, but then cautiously opened the door. She burst through my hesitation and stormed into the kitchen. I often compared Mark to a tornado—he was someone who could plow through any opposition and blast away whatever stood in his path. Melanie was similar... but worse. I came to refer to her visits as ‘Hurricane Melanie’ blowing through.
“Where is he?” this bruising woman asked with an accusatory tone.
“In the bathroom. Showering.” I gaped at her.
“Okay.” She didn’t offer to shake my hand or introduce herself. She breezed towards the refrigerator and got herself a cup of wine, like she owned the place. She scanned the apartment with pursed lips. “You can leave now,” she said.
“What?”
“Dude, I’m the sister and I’ve got dibs tonight. Whatever you have planned can wait till next weekend.”
“Mark won’t be here next weekend.”
“I know.” She shrugged. “I come first. So get out of here. I’ll tell him you left.” She turned her back on me and stormed into the TV area.
I heard Mark open the bathroom door that led into the hallway. “We have a visitor!” I warned.
“Oh shit.” Mark backtracked, but then very quickly returned wearing a nice shirt and gym shorts. I placed his phone in his hand. “Mel!” he shouted. “I was in the shower.”
“Good,” Melanie said. “Then you won’t smell like sex. We’re going out tonight. I want to have some brother time before you take off for the week.” She didn’t look at me, but her words were very pointedly aimed in my direction.
“Okay, sure. Anything you want. I’m glad you came on the weekend for once.” Mark looked at me with a frown. He must have seen the stunned look on my face. “Have you met Chris?”
“Yeah,” she said dismissively. “I don’t wanna go to any of your gay shit. Let’s hit the straight clubs. I need to dance and get hit on.” Melanie flipped through my workbooks as she spoke. She blinked at the computer that was still open to my work.
Mark walked over to me and stood behind me, wrapped his arms around my back and leaned his head on my shoulder. He wore a pleasant, befuddled expression.
Melanie looked at us and did a double take. Her entire frame deflated as her brain figured out what Mark’s body language made so plain. “You’ve got a boyfriend? Mark? Mark has a boyfriend?”
“I am gay,” Mark said coyly. “This is Chris. I told you about him.”
“Yeah... I guess you did.” Melanie walked to us and offered me her hand. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I thought you were another one of his buddies, not... you know.” She seemed incapable of admitting that her brother could be dating someone instead of just fucking them.
“I told you I was after someone,” Mark said.
“Yeah... yeah.”
“This is who I went hiking with.”
“Yeah. I thought that ended badly?”
“It did.” Mark hugged me tighter. “But we’re together now. How long has it been, babe? One week?”
I gave him a dirty look that said: Don’t be calling me ‘babe’ in front of other people. “According to you we’ve been together for four months.”
He laughed and rubbed my head. I could hear his nervousness. “Chris and I were about to make dinner. Would you like to join us?”
She laughed. “Oh shit. You’ve got it bad.” She gave me another once-over. “I guess you must be the real deal. I feel like an ass for how I treated you earlier.”
“That’s okay,” I mumbled,
ready to move on. My brain couldn’t figure out how she could have been so dismissive when she first met me, but now she was full of sunshine and curiosity.
“Okay, what are we eating?” she asked. “What does Gloria have for you this week?”
“Chris will make the vegetables and I’ll do the chicken. You can help stir things on the stove. Does that sound good, babe?”
“Are you talking to me or are you talking to Melanie?”
“You.”
“Cause I don’t see no babes here.”
Mark kissed me on the side of the neck.
“What club do you want to go to?” I asked.
“Thought we were staying in for the night.”
“Melanie wants to go somewhere, don’t you?”
“Yeah. Shit, call me ‘Mel’.” She looked at Mark. “I never would have believed that you could be so pussy-whipped.”
“What?” Mark said defensively. “We’ve done a lot today. Chris got an apartment. I met his family. I got to touch his brain and his heart without getting bitten.” He laughed at Mel’s confusion.
“Ignore him,” I said. “I usually do.”
Mark punched my arm and called me a liar. He hovered around me and was extra affectionate as we made dinner, like how he had been when we met Lynn.
Mark mentioned how I had dietary restrictions. I explained how some of the things were likely more psychological than anything, but maintaining my diet helped me feel like I could control my autoimmune disorder. Mark and I moved around the kitchen like we had done this numerous times in the past... because we had. We joked with each other like we were old friends... because we were. Some of what we did might have been as a show for Melanie, but Mark and I were always affectionate with each other and always teasing, laughing.
I tried to be funny even when I felt miserable. When I was happy—like how I was that night—I was naturally silly without a shred of embarrassment.
Melanie took a bathroom break.
“You’ve got to chill,” Mark said quickly.
“Me chill?! You’re the one who tried to feed me my food off my own plate!”
“I was teasing you.”
“This is going so horribly,” I whispered. “She’s going to think we’re nuts.”
“You are nuts.”
“That’s not the point.” I kissed him. “Just relax and be us.”
“I am. But when you get in front of people, you’re like a completely different person.”
“How do you mean?”
“You keep flirting with her!”
“Do not!”
Melanie walked back in the room. “What are you two arguing about?” We both went silent and she shook her head (in a typical Mark-like fashion). “Being with you two is like being with two old women.” She fluffed her hair. “Honestly, I’m more of a dude than either of you. Are we heading out or not?”
Mel had me completely off balance. She had probably been a tomboy in her youth. She had broad shoulders for a woman, but they were smooth and rounded. Her face was beautiful, if a little masculine... kind of like how Mark had a feminine man’s face. They were both incredibly good-looking, but Mel wasn’t waifish enough to be a Sports Illustrated model. She had the girl-next-door appeal. The only major difference between the siblings was that Mel had dirty blonde hair and Mark’s was brown (though I had yet to learn that he dyed it for his modeling gigs).
Mark answered her question. “Sure. We’ll get changed... then we’ll head out. I know just where you want to go.”
I stifled a groan. I hated clubs. Why had I offered to go?
Mark and I walked back to the bedrooms. “Don’t take forever,” Mel called after us.
“She definitely knows you,” I commented.
“Shut it.” He followed me into the guest room and picked out my outfit, like usual. “What are you doing?” he asked when he turned around.
“I’m changing the sheets.” I folded the gray sheets with the zigzag pattern. “If she’s staying the night, she’s not staying on my sheets.”
“My God. Don’t let her hear you talk like that. She’ll really think you’ve got problems then.” Mark tickled me.
I picked up my clothes and followed him into the master bedroom and changed while he primped himself in his big mirror.
“Are we good to go?” I asked. “Are you changing your shorts?”
“Yeah.” He adjusted his hair. “I wish you would have told me Mel was here when I was in the shower. I would have—”
I pushed him into his closet. “Pick out your damn shoes. You look fine.”
He changed; I watched.
“Mel has me so off my game. I can’t figure out how to act around her. I want her to like me, but she’s so... I don’t know. She came in and was so dismissive of me.”
“She’s seen quite of few of my fuck buddies, and she’s never had a problem with clearing them out. She’s a tough chick.”
“I’d say.”
“She’s probably gonna take some time to warm up to you. That’s all.”
WE WENT OUT TO A CLUB and danced all night. Melanie was dismissive of me the entire time. If Mark and I ever stopped by a bar, she would find us and try to get Mark out on the floor again. She found guys to dance with by simply snapping her fingers. Melanie was the kind of girl that drew your eye. She was beautiful, but she wasn’t conventionally pretty. I assumed guys were attracted to her because of her charisma. She danced with abandon. She laughed widely and openly. She lured in her prey and danced with them until she had her fill. She was always in control.
“Mark, what’s your problem? Get out here and dance.” She pulled his arm. Mark wouldn’t leave me. His eyes begged me to go with him so I followed obediently and we danced, him close to me, but not on me. We were in a straight club, after all. Melanie threw a girl into his arms, then she flung herself at me.
Melanie and I danced. It was one of the weirdest things I’ve ever done. Her ass was near my cock. She would turn around and lower her body expertly. Her boobs were always front and center of the action. I looked at Mark. He was watching me, waiting for me to make a break for the sidelines. I shrugged at him, not knowing how to get rid of Melanie.
“You’re a shit dancer,” she accused, ready to dump me.
I grabbed her waist and pulled her into one of the three salsa moves that I knew. I took the lead for about two seconds, then she grasped the dance from me and took on the role of the man. I followed her lead. We danced like that in the middle of the bumping and grinding throng.
“Not bad,” she said when my feet tripped against hers. She looked over my shoulder, offered her hand, and disappeared into the crowd behind me with a random guy.
I left the floor and Mark was right behind me. “What is going on with her?” I asked him over the noise.
“She’s having problems with her boyfriend.”
I watched her on the floor. “She has a boyfriend.”
“They cheat on each other,” Mark said, like that was a normal thing to do. “He cheats on her, then she goes out and cheats on him. They feed off the drama.”
You feed off drama too...
“Are you going to cheat on me?” I asked curiously.
“Never.”
“Because you can. You know you can.”
“Quit saying that. I’m with you and that’s all there is to it.”
“But it would be so much easier if you could just... find a friend and... you know. It wouldn’t even be cheating. You just have to tell me about it.”
“I don’t need that drama.” He refused to discuss it for the rest of the night. That topic was one of the surefire ways to make him prickly.
“Come on, who here do you think is cute? Who would you be working on if I weren’t here?”
“Nobody,” he lied.
“Yeah right. From what Ryan tells me, it sounds like you got your thrills by finding eligible straight dudes and fucking them. So which guy would it be? How would you do it?”
&nbs
p; “You really want to know?”
“Sure.” I nodded and smiled, flirted. “I want to see my man in action.” I was surprised to realize that I really did want to see him in action—I wanted to see how it worked.
“How long have I got to score?”
I shrugged. “How long does it usually take?”
“If I’m targeting a specific guy that you pick out, I’ll do some research and get back to you with an estimate. If I say it’s a go, I’ll give myself a week—with extenuating circumstances.”
“Woah. Big word. What do you mean by ‘extenuating circumstance’?”
“Maybe he’s only here for a weekend. Maybe he’s got a wedding.” Mark tilted his head. “In that case, I have seven days max to get him. But since I probably have to score by the end of the night... we’re doing it by the hour, and that means you don’t choose. I get to choose the guy and I’m going to have him over here in... half an hour or less.”
“That soon?”
“Dude, that’s a long time. We’re in a club. Dudes—all dudes—come here to hook up.”
“I didn’t.”
“Well...” Mark sized me up. “I don’t count you in my averages. I thought I could get you in three days... you were so receptive. Then a week went by... then another week. You fucking blew all my averages.”
“I’ve never been more proud of myself than I am in this moment.”
He smirked, rolled his eyes. “Are you going to be okay for ten minutes?”
“I thought you said half an hour?”
“There’s a guy right there,” Mark nodded his head and made eye contact with the guy. “Yeah... I won’t be needing ten minutes with this one.” Mark left me and sauntered around the edge of the dancefloor. A girl jumped at him and he spun her around for a minute. The buttons on his shirt somehow undid themselves and his chest glistened in the throbbing lights.
I watched him curiously. He thought he could bag a guy in ten minutes? What is he doing with a girl? They danced closer and closer to the bar. Mark didn’t look at his target once, but just as the guy faced Mark and feasted upon his gyrating body... Mark took the girl into a full-on kiss. Disgusting. She pawed at his chest, but Mark rebuffed her.
The Lover (It's Just Us Here Book 4) Page 5