Owen made a soft, thoughtful noise. “Sounds nice.” He patted his pocket then, and shot Mark a sheepish smile. “Sorry—force of habit. I’ve been smoke-free for two weeks, but the habit dies hard. I’ve got it down to herbal cigarettes now and while I don’t like them much, it feels like progress.”
“I get it.” Mark said. “I quit a few years ago myself. I don’t need to tell you you’re better off.”
A pause fell while he filled their glasses, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Inside, the crowd was gearing up for the countdown, their excited voices muffled but still audible through the glass door.
Owen lifted his drink and narrowed his eyes at its contents, which looked very dark in the dim light. “Is this a red wine?”
“Yes. It’s sparkling Shiraz.” Mark held his own glass aloft and watched the streetlights below make the deep ruby-colored wine glow. “My mother was very fond of the bubbly on holidays, but she liked to switch up from whites now and again. Sparkling Shiraz at New Year’s was her favorite.”
Inside, the crowd started counting backward from ten.
“I’ve never had it,” Owen said. “Then again, my family doesn’t drink wine, so you could say I’m still broadening my horizons.”
“Does that make me a bad influence?” Mark shared a smile with Owen and the countdown hit five.
“I guess we’ll have to see.”
They tapped their glasses together while the party behind them erupted in cheers and calls of “Happy New Year,” and, a moment later, the sky over the harbor before them exploded with light and color.
CHAPTER TWO
Mark and Owen left the party shortly after midnight, and a tipsy Lauren followed through on her promise of hugs. Keith messed up Mark’s hair but also handed Mark an unopened bottle of wine, and now Mark and Owen were headed toward the West End in search of a bar that wasn’t too wrecked. Mark didn’t much care if they found one, because his apartment made for the perfect backup plan.
“Are you from Boston originally?” He glanced over at Owen, whose gaze was fixed on a point somewhere in front of them.
“I am, yeah,” Owen replied. He’d given in to his craving finally and was puffing on a slim white stick that emitted a fragrant smoke that smelled a lot like incense. “My parents moved here from Barbados when my brother was three. They had a place in Jamaica Plain, and that’s where I was born and grew up. Mom and Dad moved back to Barbados after they retired, though, and I don’t get to see them more than once or twice a year. My brother, Marcus, lives in Northampton.”
Mark nodded. “Lauren and I grew up in West Roxbury. Almost in your neck of the woods, I suppose. We moved here in time for kindergarten, from Alaska, of all places.”
Owen smiled. “Really? I can’t picture that. Then again, I know nothing about Alaska that I haven’t learned from watching a nature program.”
“Same,” Mark replied. “My parents didn’t have any family left and between their jobs and two kids here, they got busy and never went back. Lauren’s talked about traveling out there, but somehow I think that’s more Keith’s idea than hers. He’s got it into his head that he wants to see wild bears, and I know she’s secretly terrified.” Owen’s snicker made him smile.
“See, my folks took a different approach,” Owen said. “They sent Marcus and me back to our grandparents’ on the island every summer while they stayed here and worked. My grandparents let us run a bit wild, so Marcus and I never wanted to come back to Mass when the school year started up.” He laughed. “My brother tried bribing them into letting us stay.”
“Really?”
“At least a dozen times!”
They wound their way through the mostly quiet streets of Lauren’s neighborhood and crossed into Mark’s, chatting about those golden summers Owen had spent in the Caribbean learning to swim and climb trees and play cricket. Mark learned Owen’s last name was Todd, and that he lived in a high-rise apartment at Station Landing in Medford. Owen used a longboard to get around when he wasn’t riding the train and planned to go for his MFA, starting in the fall. And while he and Mark passed plenty of open bars, neither made a move to stop until they turned onto Portland Street and Mark paused outside a pub he knew well.
“This is probably the last place we’ll find before we cross over into Beacon Hill.” He tipped his chin forward. “My place is that way, but there’s a sushi joint a block back that I like. They serve great cocktails if you’re interested.”
Owen nodded. “I like sushi and cocktails, but I’d rather go back to your place, open up that bottle of wine, and kiss the hell out of you.” He smiled again. “If you’d like, that is.”
Lust prickled through Mark. “I’d like that just fine,” he replied. “I also wanted to make sure we were on the same page.”
“I’m where I want to be.” Owen shrugged. “I’ll tell you when I’m not.”
They crossed the final blocks toward Mark’s building and Mark noticed they’d drawn closer together, their hands and shoulders brushing frequently while they walked. He liked those small connections and the little jolts of awareness they sent through him. Even more, he liked the idea of getting Owen alone and learning what that lean body felt like against his own.
Take it easy, man.
Once inside his apartment, Mark tried to do just that and give Owen space if he wanted it. They peeled off their coats and he went to the kitchen with the wine and the intention of grabbing some glasses, but Owen’s hand on his shoulder stopped him.
Mark met his dark eyes. “Changed your mind about a drink?”
“No.” Owen stepped closer. “I’d just rather kiss you first.” He slid his arms around Mark’s neck, then glanced at the floor-to-ceiling windows to his right and the view of the river beyond. His lips quirked up in that half-smile Mark liked so much. “Damn. You were right about the view.”
Mark laughed and pulled Owen in and mmm, he tasted even better than he looked. Owen’s lips were luscious and warm and he groaned when Mark swept his tongue into Owen’s mouth.
“I want you,” Mark murmured when they came up for air. Owen’s husky chuckle sent a swoop of pleasure all the way down to Mark’s toes.
“Me too.”
Dropping his hands to Owen’s belt, Mark worked at the clasp while they kissed some more, slower and deeper, and a fire built in his belly. Owen slid his palms over Mark’s shoulders and back, but his touch stuttered the moment Mark unzipped Owen’s fly and slipped his hand inside.
“Oh, shit.”
Owen tugged Mark closer, and Mark’s cock hardened with each kiss and caress. He worked Owen through his boxer briefs until Owen shuddered. Only then did Mark step back enough to start them moving toward his bedroom.
They pulled off each other’s clothes in silence, stopping often to touch and kiss until Mark felt dizzy. His head spun by the time they fell onto the bed and oh, how he wanted to lose himself in miles of warm golden-brown skin.
Mark rolled on top of Owen and sealed their mouths together, his lust leaping higher at the way Owen spread his long legs to make room for Mark. “Fuck, you’re hot.”
“Nothing like you,” Owen murmured. “Your eyes are so blue, it’s like they’re made of glass.” He palmed Mark’s ass with a rough touch, and smiled at Mark’s approving hum.
“Need to taste you,” Mark whispered.
He pressed his face into Owen’s throat and nipped at the tender skin. Mark stopped short of marking Owen, but just barely, and knew from the way Owen clutched at him that he wouldn’t have minded. Slowly, Mark worked his way lower, raising gooseflesh with his tongue as he moved. Owen arched up with a gasp when Mark ran his teeth over a nipple.
“Oh, God.”
“Let’s not bring religion into this.” Mark kissed Owen’s ribs and grinned at his flinch. “Are you ticklish?”
“Ye-e-s!” Owen got out around a laugh.
“Mmm, nice. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.” Mark kissed a little lower, drawing another laugh from Owen, and t
his time, Owen tugged at Mark’s dark hair. The mix of sting and pleasure melted Mark’s insides and pulled a throaty hum from him.
“Ah.” Owen’s eyes gleamed. “Now I know a secret of yours, too.”
Arousal thrummed through Mark, buzzing hot in his ears and throat, and he pushed up onto his knees. He stared down at the body laid out before him, admiring Owen’s lean muscles and limbs that held grace as well as strength. The heat in Owen’s eyes really got Mark’s pulse going, though.
“I’m negative,” he said, voice gruff, “but there’s condoms in the nightstand if you want to use them.”
Owen shook his head. “I’m negative, too, but...” He dropped his gaze over Mark’s body and ran his tongue over his lips. “I want you in my mouth when I come.”
Mark bit back a moan. His dick twitched against his abdomen and he reached for the nightstand anyway, plucking lube from the drawer with quick motions. He turned his body so he faced Owen’s feet. Straddling Owen’s waist, he wet his hands but went still when Owen spread his hands over Mark’s ass, pressing heat into his skin like a brand. Mark bent forward into a crouch and grasped Owen’s hips, and together they shifted onto their sides.
Desire crawled through Mark, stringing his nerves tight. He eyed the tight torso and erection in front of him, then licked Owen’s belly, tasting salt and clean skin. He closed his eyes when Owen nosed the base of Mark’s cock.
Jesus.
Owen took Mark between his lips and Mark sighed, feasting on the man in his arms and sucking Owen deep. He reveled in the weight of iron and silk on his tongue and the bitter tang of pre-cum. Owen groaned. He wound his legs around Mark’s neck and Mark mirrored the action, desire buzzing through him from head to toe.
The air echoed with their gasps and moans, and pleasure built between them in a feedback loop. Eyes clenched shut, Mark teased two fingers over Owen’s balls. Needy noises reached his ears and he rubbed circles into the flesh while he thrust into Owen’s mouth, chasing his pleasure and urging Owen on.
Owen pulled off Mark with a gasp. “Fuck, yes,” he got out, his voice strained.
Mark hummed around Owen’s cock. Owen tensed and an inarticulate noise rolled through him. He swallowed Mark back down, but his movements faltered as Mark teased Owen’s rim with his fingers. Mark circled for a moment, then sank a finger into Owen’s ass, breaching him in a long, slow plunge. His heart flipped at Owen’s strangled noise. Owen jolted and pulsed in Mark’s mouth, and his ragged noises pulled Mark over the edge, bitter salt on his tongue and his body jerking under the force of his pleasure.
They were still breathing hard when Mark managed to get himself turned back around. He fell down beside Owen and they sprawled together, exchanging lazy kisses while the sweat on their bodies cooled and the thunder of their hearts calmed.
At last, Owen sighed and leaned back so he could peer at Mark. “I think I’m glad your trip to Iceland fell through.”
“I think I am too.” Mark smiled. “How about that drink?”
“Yeah, definitely.”
Owen turned an admiring gaze on Mark as he got out of bed, and Mark couldn’t help preening a little under the attention. In the kitchen, he opened the wine and grabbed glasses from the cabinet.
“Lauren and Keith had the fireworks, but you are absolutely right,” Owen said as Mark stepped back into the bedroom. He gestured toward the evening spread out below. “This view wins, hands down.”
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Mark filled the glasses and handed one over. “Lauren’s place is bigger so we usually do our get-togethers there, but here you get a light show like this every night. Plus, you can enjoy it while both lying down and naked, and I call that a win.”
He set the bottle on the nightstand and climbed back into bed, and smiled at the way Owen scooched over to make room.
Owen sipped from his glass. “You mind if I stay?”
“Nope.” Mark ran a hand over Owen’s hip. “If you stick around long enough tomorrow morning for me to wake up properly, I’ll make you breakfast.”
“Properly?”
“It takes at least two cups of coffee to get me to full awareness. Food helps, too. Because nutrition.”
Owen tipped his head back and laughed. “Noted. One should feed and water their Mark before use,” he joked. “Any chance you’ve got an instruction manual lying around?”
“I’m afraid not.” Mark looped his free arm around Owen’s shoulders and caught his lips in a kiss. “There’s pens and paper in the desk over there if you want to take notes though.”
~ooOoo~
Mark didn’t know what the next morning would bring by the time he and Owen crashed for the night. They’d finished off the wine and shared a lot of laughs, as well as a bag of chocolate-covered cherries from Mark’s not-so-secret sugar stash. They’d made each other come again too, slowly jerking each other off to a devastating climax that had left them both boneless.
Owen had been mostly asleep as Mark turned off the lights. And while Mark thought he’d like to see Owen again, he didn’t hold any illusions that would happen. Owen was over a decade younger, and—outside of sexual chemistry—he and Mark had nothing obvious in common besides snarky humor, a mutual love of cooking shows, and their connection to Lauren. Besides, Mark didn’t do repeats very often, outside of Alistair, and he saw no reason to make an exception this time.
Still, when he surfaced for a few moments at dawn and found a warm body curled alongside his, he smiled. He actually grinned hours later, too, because the smells of coffee and bacon hung in the air and he found Owen in the kitchen clad in his boxer briefs and black jersey, his sleeves rolled to the elbows.
“I hope you don’t mind that I helped myself,” Owen said. He cracked an egg into a bowl. “You looked pretty snug all bundled up in there, and I didn’t have the heart to wake you.”
“You won’t hear me complain.” Mark patted Owen’s ass on his way to the coffeemaker. He brewed himself a cup and went to the refrigerator for creamer. “I mean, you made fried meats and you did it half-naked. Good morning to me.”
Much later, after they’d eaten and cleaned the kitchen, then gotten each other off in Mark’s shower, Owen dressed and Mark prepared to go on duty. Owen looked even more gorgeous by the light of day, Mark thought, and the bronze tones in his skin glowed warm despite the wan winter sun. His lopsided smile grew somehow shy as Mark walked him to the door, and Mark decided that just wouldn’t do.
“You want to grab some dinner later this week?” The words fell out of his mouth without real thought. “I’m working for the next three nights, but I’m off Friday and Saturday. Well, wait.” Mark frowned. “You’ve probably already got plans.”
“Nothing I can’t juggle.” Owen slid his hand in his pocket and pulled out a gunmetal gray card case. “What did you have in mind?”
“There’s the sushi place over on Friend Street—meet me Friday at seven?”
Owen handed Mark a white business card with his name and a list of numbers in fine black font, then leaned in and dropped a peck on Mark’s lips. “I can do that. I’ll see you then.”
CHAPTER THREE
“Why do you call your sister Lo?”
Mark dredged a piece of maki in soy sauce and smiled. He and Owen were seated in a booth at the sushi restaurant, sharing platters of food and drinking sweet, sticky cocktails. Mark had slept late after his shift in an effort to stock up some energy, but then Owen had run late, and for a few minutes Mark had thought he might back out. Owen had turned up at last, however, and seeing him brought that New Year’s Eve vibe back to Mark, the connection fluid and easy, as if they were already fast friends. Mark liked that very much.
“It’s sort of a twin thing,” he said in answer to Owen’s question. “My sister and I started talking pretty early—”
“Color me surprised.”
“Don’t be a bitch.” Mark smirked. “We were two or so and our mouths couldn’t always keep up with the chatter. I had a problem with
the ‘r’ in Lauren’s name and shortened it to ‘Lo.’ The funny part is it stuck and never went away. My parents called her Lo, too, even after we’d both grown up.”
“I see.” Owen grinned. He’d come directly from work, and was dressed in monochromatic navy. He looked both gloriously handsome and far too serious in his dress shirt and tie, but he’d rolled up his sleeves again and tucked his tie in his pocket to keep it neat. “Did Lauren have a nickname for you?” he asked.
“She did. She claims now that she also had trouble with the letter ‘r’ for a while, but I think she just wanted to give me a special name. I’m not sure you need to know the nickname, however. That’s not the kind of information I share with just anyone.”
Mark pursed his lips against a teasing smile, but Owen merely popped a piece of nigiri into his mouth. He chewed for a moment before speaking.
“I plan on sucking your dick again at some point tonight. Does that make me just anyone?”
Mark set his chopsticks down. “No. No, it doesn’t, Owen, and I’m glad you pointed that out. Lauren called me ‘Mac’ when we were kids. She still does sometimes, when she’s feeling sassy or has had too much to drink. I’m surprised she didn’t on New Year’s Eve, to be honest, because she was in exactly the right kind of mood.”
A soft smile transformed Owen’s entire face. “That’s fucking adorable. You know that, right?”
“Yeah, I do.” Mark grinned at the platter of rice and fish while fire licked up under his shirt collar.
“And Lauren’s the only one who calls you Mac?”
She is now that Mom and Dad are gone.
Something about that dark thought must have shown in Mark’s face, because Owen’s smile flickered. Mark quickly summoned up a grin.
“She is, yes.”
Owen laid a hand over Mark’s. “I don’t believe it. What about that sort of boyfriend of yours, Alistair?”
“Alistair is not my boyfriend.” Mark laughed. “He’d literally cringe to hear you say that. He’s not the boyfriend type and neither am I.”
Healing Hearts (Stealing Hearts Book 2) Page 2