by Jodi Payne
“Tonight….” Owen’s words slowed to a stutter. “Sounds like a good—”
Reese wasn’t sure who kissed whom first, but their conversation was cut short and their martinis forgotten as their lips locked together. Reese felt Owen’s hands go around his waist, and he slid his fingers along both sides of Owen’s jaw. Owen melted into him, and Reese deepened the kiss, pressing his tongue farther into Owen’s mouth. He raked his fingers through Owen’s amazing curls before tightening them around the back of Owen’s neck, then lay back and pulled Owen with him.
“God.” Owen breathed around the kiss. They were both hard. Reese could feel Owen’s erection pressing into his thigh, and his own was straining against the fly of his tuxedo pants. But Reese didn’t feel like rushing things, less out of politeness and more because something about the beautiful way Owen was giving himself over inspired Reese to savor, take his time, learn something.
He wasn’t sure, though, how long Owen was going to stand for that. Owen started working on the buttons of his shirt one by one. Reese enjoyed the sensation of someone’s fingers on him again, someone wanting him. Owen’s hands went to Reese’s chest, roaming and exploring, sliding over his ribs and across his nipples. They were strong but gentle, the touch light on Reese’s skin. Teasing. Owen’s mouth went to work as well, and Reese couldn’t stop the sound that escaped him, a soft, low moan that Owen echoed instantly.
Owen was wearing a black T-shirt, which Reese lifted off over Owen’s head. Moments later, Owen was tugging at the waistband of Reese’s trousers, trying to figure out the clasp there.
Reese decided Owen was too wound up for subtlety, and swept his hands clear before giving him a gentle shove to the side and shifting them so Owen was on his back.
“Well, well.” Owen laughed softly.
“You’re in a hurry.” Reese growled. Curious. He’d been going for something more of a purr.
“Want you.”
Reese kissed Owen, then pulled away and whispered, “Don’t fuck on a first date, beautiful.” Reese went to his knees and made very quick work of exposing Owen’s cock and balls.
“Oh. Oh, wow, okay.” Owen had started to pant. “Yeah, that’s cool. This is… oh God.”
“Good.” That was the last thing Reese said for a while, his mouth otherwise occupied tasting and sampling everything he could.
Owen’s hips lifted and lowered again. His breath sounded thin. “Holy… was that your…? Oh fuck.” Owen babbled. Reese found it amusing until something seemed to snap in Owen and he shifted into another gear entirely. Owen gasped and tangled his fingers in Reese’s hair. “Please!”
Reese wasn’t one to leave a man wanting. He took Owen into his mouth as deeply as he could manage and set about blowing him in earnest. He bobbed his head in Owen’s lap and teased and tormented Owen’s balls with his fingers.
“Fuck! Don’t stop, don’t stop.”
Not stopping, Reese thought, but he couldn’t express that with words, so instead he gave Owen’s balls a sharp tug.
Owen’s hips jerked away and then back again and he came, shooting into Reese’s mouth so hard it was all Reese could do to keep up. Breathless, Owen sank back into the couch, and Reese licked and nibbled his way up Owen’s chest to kiss his mouth again.
“Jesus. I think I saw stars.”
Reese laughed. “I told you, rave reviews.”
“What was that thing you did with….”
“I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”
Owen laughed. “Bastard.”
“I am. How did you know?”
Owen blinked. “Oh, shit, I’m sorry.”
Reese laughed. “No, no. Don’t, I was joking. I mean, it’s true, but it was a joke.”
“Damn.” Owen sat up and pushed Reese off him. “You are one hot tuxedo-wearing bastard.”
“Thanks, although there’s not much of the tux left.”
“It’s about to be even less,” Owen warned, reaching for Reese’s trousers. This time his own need got the better of him, and he gasped as Owen touched his waistband. Owen got the hint, yanked at the clasp, and forced the zipper down hard. Reese allowed it, lifting up so Owen could slide the trousers down over his hips.
He suddenly felt like he might die if Owen didn’t touch him soon. He groaned heavily and fought the urge to grab for his erection himself. He rested his head back on the arm of the leather sofa. “Jesus, you’re beautiful,” Reese heard himself say without having had any intention of saying it. It was true, though. He really wasn’t capable of lying when he felt like this. “So hard.”
“Yes.” Owen kissed him breathless and then moved his lips down lower, finally taking the head of Reese’s cock into his mouth and wrapping dexterous musician’s fingers around his shaft.
“Don’t tease. Jesus Christ.”
“Now who’s in a hurry?” Owen ignored him. He licked lightly, stroked gently, and generally drove him absolutely fucking mad. Finally Reese, half out of his mind, reached down and gripped the back of Owen’s head, tugging hard on his hair.
“Suck me,” he roared, the voice strangely disembodied, bizarrely outside of himself.
Owen responded instantly, taking Reese’s aching cock deep into his mouth and down his throat.
“Owen!” Three, maybe four long strokes and Reese was done, coming hard, his vision going dim as he filled Owen’s mouth with spunk. Owen kept moving, licking and sucking, gently finishing Reese off. Reese was absolutely wiped, panting hard and uncaring of how shameless he must look, still half-dressed and sprawled out on Owen’s leather couch. He blinked a few times to clear his vision and his head.
Owen was over him then, kissing his face and neck, stroking fingers through Reese’s hair. Slowly Reese started to get the feeling back in his fingers and the fog began to lift.
“You’re… wow.” Reese started to grin but then suddenly remembered shouting at Owen and things getting a little rough for a first impression. He pushed up on his elbows. “Oh God. Are you okay?”
Owen nodded, still kissing and touching and calming him. “Oh, yeah. I’m great.”
He felt like a first-class asshole. “I’m so sorry, I….” Fucking lost it. It had been a long time since that had happened to him.
“For what?” Owen teased, grinning at him. “Had you right where I wanted you.”
Reese stared at him. “You wanted… I mean you purposefully…?”
Owen licked his lips and nodded.
“Shit, you are gifted.”
Owen dropped his voice to a whisper. “You don’t know the half of it, Mr. I don’t fuck on the first date.”
“Can I please have a second?”
Owen dissolved into genuine, open laughter. “Oh God. Oh, you are dangerous for me, Mr…. Hm. What’s your last name?”
Oh, for crying out loud, he thought. Did Owen really have to ask right now? “It’s Kelsey.”
“Mr. Kelsey,” Owen repeated. Reese braced himself for a reaction that never came. “Let’s get cleaned up, and I’ll find us some munchies to go with our warm martinis.”
“Uh, su… sure.” He watched as Owen got up and started straightening up his clothing. Owen hadn’t made the connection. The part of him that wanted to be normal blew a happy gasket. Thank fucking God. A few more hours of just being him would be so nice.
Owen’s apartment only had one bathroom and it was very small, but Owen had an extra toothbrush, and they managed to both get cleaned up in short order, jostling and moving around each other with grins and soft laughter. Owen disappeared into the kitchen, and when he returned to the living room, he tossed a bag of pretzels and a hunk of sharp cheddar on the coffee table. “I wasn’t expecting company,” he said with a shrug. “It’s good cheese, though.”
Reese was following him with a couple of ice cubes, and he tossed them into their martinis. “Now they’re on the rocks.” He laughed and picked his up to sip it. “Still pretty awesome.”
“Can’t be.” Owen sipped his as w
ell. “Oh. Not too bad.”
Reese sat back in the couch with his drink and sighed. “Well. My evening started out well and has gotten so much better,” he said with a chuckle.
Owen smiled at him, perching on the edge of the couch. “Ditto.”
“All jokes aside, I really enjoyed hearing you play at the café tonight. I’d never heard anything like that. So powerful.”
“Thanks, it was nice to have someone there that I wanted to impress.”
He put a hand on Owen’s knee. “Owen, I was impressed before we got there.” Owen blushed again. Reese counted three times that night. He was pretty damn proud of himself. He sipped his drink and reached for a pretzel. “I ate this blonde brownie thing I was seriously impressed with too.”
Owen laughed. “Yeah, a man can get fat in there.”
“I can see that. So, that gig pays?”
“A little. I don’t do it for the money anymore, though. I just love it. The orchestra is my real job.”
“How long have you been playing with them?”
“Hm.” Owen munched down pretzels with abandon. Reese was beginning to think they should have ordered takeout. Of course, it had been a while since he had a social life, and he wondered how long delivery would take at three in the morning. “We met at the conservatory and we played together all the time there, but we didn’t start these gigs until after we graduated. We were all so broke.” Owen laughed.
Reese could relate. He left college with a writing degree and nothing but debt to his name. “Sounds great.”
“It is, mostly. Lots of practice, lots of rehearsals and performances, not a lot of days off. But I just love the instrument, the music. I worked hard to get here. I can’t imagine doing anything else.”
Reese nodded. He could relate to that sentiment too. And he certainly understood the time commitment.
“So,” Owen asked, shifting to settle in next to Reese and leaning against him. “What do you do?”
“Oh. Well.” Here it goes. It was nice while it lasted. “I write. I’m an author.”
“Really?”
Reese nodded. “Yes, really.”
“Right. So, do you write novels, or…?”
Reese felt heat creep into his cheeks. “I have a couple of novels out.”
Owen raised an eyebrow. “What’s with the hesitation? Give me a title.”
“Well, I just published a book called Tuesday, Bloody Tuesday. Came out like a month ago.”
“Oh! Yeah, I’ve heard of that one, I think. Haven’t read it, sorry. Horror isn’t really my genre.”
He winced. Horror again. But Owen hadn’t read his books. It was kind of absurd that he was so pleased about that, but he was. A strand of black curls fell over one of Owen’s eyes, and Reese was suddenly very uninterested in talking about himself anymore.
“So, enough about me then. Does the orchestra ever play anything cool like—”
“The Star Wars theme?” Owen looked at him.
“Yeah!” Reese nodded enthusiastically.
“Why does everyone ask me that?” Owen snorted. “Unfortunately, no. This symphony usually presents evenings that center around a theme or work by a particular composer. Last summer they did this really interesting exploration of Tchaikovsky’s versatility and—” Owen stopped himself. “Ah. You look a little—”
“Sorry, I love listening, but classical music isn’t—”
“Really your genre?” Owen raised an eyebrow.
Reese laughed, grinning broadly. “Touché.”
Owen smiled at him.
Could this really be happening? Could Reese have honestly met someone who not only had no idea who he was, but hadn’t ever read any of his books? Someone who looked at him and just saw a guy who liked music and wrote books for a living? It was too good to be true.
Too good to be true.
Reese’s mood darkened quickly with that thought. This was fun, sure, but Reese knew reality would set in soon enough. Nobody could put up with him. Sooner or later he always neglected his lovers one too many times and they were gone. He wanted this; he liked Owen. But he was tired of the heartache, the apologies, all of his broken promises to do better. Better to just keep it light.
Reese drained his martini and put his empty glass down on the coffee table. “Well, thanks, Owen. I should probably be going.”
“Oh.” Owen looked surprised. “Yeah? I mean, yeah. Okay. Sure.”
“Late and all, you know.”
“Yeah, I get it. I’ll get you a car.”
“Perfect.” Reese looked himself over one more time, then scooped up his jacket and tucked the cummerbund into a pocket.
Owen came back into the room, cell phone in hand. “Uber is on its way. I usually just watch out the window.”
Reese nodded and moved over to the window. He should give Owen his card. He shouldn’t just walk out; it’d been too good an evening. And yet he didn’t reach for his wallet. The arguments, the resentment, the guilt. He couldn’t take it again. Just as he decided against it, however, Owen slipped a piece of paper into his pocket and gave his ass a pat. “So you can find me when you’re back from wherever you just went.” He kissed Reese on the cheek.
Reese blinked, surprised. “Oh, uh. I’m sorry, it’s just—”
Owen put a hand in the air. “Ah—don’t say it. Whatever it is, it’s okay. Don’t fuck on the first date, don’t stay the night, don’t dig too much deeper? Something’s eating you, Reese. I can see that. I’ll wait until you sort it out.” He looked at Reese meaningfully. “Just know that I really hope you sort it out.” Owen grinned. “Sometime soon.”
Reese searched Owen’s deep brown eyes for a moment. He didn’t know what to say.
There was a beep outside. “Oh. Car.” Reese glanced out the window. “Yup. Thanks for a really amazing evening.”
Owen nodded. “Thanks again for the ride.”
“Yep. Night.”
Reese rushed out the door and into the hall, where he could finally bring himself to breathe again.
Chapter VI
OWEN LOCKED the door after Reese left and sighed. He looked over his shoulder at the picture window and hurried to it, arriving just in time to see Reese cross the sidewalk and get into his Uber.
Well, shit.
That was disappointing. Not the evening itself, but the fact that Reese had gone home. And the way he left had been so abrupt, it was like something just flipped a switch in him and that was it. Time to go home.
Owen couldn’t think of a thing he’d said or done that would have turned the man off like that. It seemed like Reese had been really into his show at the café, and they’d had a good time after. Conversation came easily, Reese had sent him to fucking nirvana with his mouth, and he didn’t hear any complaints from Reese about his own performance. Owen had done his level best to leave Reese wanting more, and, at the risk of sounding arrogant, he thought he’d accomplished that goal.
Owen picked up his martini and finished it off before taking both glasses into the kitchen to wash and to start some water for tea.
He considered writing the night off as a pickup or a one-night-stand, like maybe Reese had planned that all along, but if that was the case, then not fucking was just weird. Wasn’t that the point of a one-night-stand? Either way, he really had no right to be disappointed. Reese came back to his place at his invitation, but it wasn’t like staying the night was a requirement.
He put the clean glasses in the dish drainer and made his tea, then shut off the kitchen light and went into his bedroom. His phone chirped at him, and he pulled it out of his pocket, curious as to whom would be texting him at four in the morning.
Hey handsome. Hope your date is going well. He was hot.
Carla. That figured. He started to text back but changed his mind and hit Call instead.
“Owen! Shouldn’t you be in bed with your hunky date?”
“Hey, Carla. I hope… I saw your text and thought… well, I didn’t think I’d be waking yo
u.”
“Oh, don’t you worry, honey. You’re not waking me. Say hello, Jess.”
“Helloooo, Owen!”
“Oh, wow. Are you drunk, Jess?”
“No, sir. Just high on my girl.”
Jess and Carla had been a thing for a couple of years at least. Long enough that Owen couldn’t quite remember. “I’m interrupting. I’m sorry, guys. I can call back tomorrow.”
“Owen, if you’d been interrupting, I wouldn’t have picked up the phone. Spill. Tell mama all about it.”
Well, that is why he called her, right? To talk. “I need you to remind me that it’s stupid to be disappointed when a random guy you just met a few hours ago doesn’t want to stay the night.”
“Oh, Owen. I’m sorry, baby.”
“I mean, at first I thought, okay, this is a random ride from a random guy just being nice. You know? But in the car he was so funny, and it’s crazy, but we just hit it off so fast.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, and I kind of hit on him in the car—just gently, you know? Just a look—and he picked right up on it. So I invited him to hear me play, and he didn’t hesitate. I don’t know. I felt like the whole thing was so beautifully unscripted and accidental. It didn’t have that one-nighter feel to it at all.”
“He went back to your place?”
“Yeah. We hadn’t even made it to my building yet when he kissed me.”
“Really?”
“It was definitely one of those kisses, if you know what I mean, but yeah.”
“Wow.”
“Right? So we talked for a bit, but not long because he literally took my drink out of my hands and made a pretty bold move.”
“Nice.”
“Carla, you have no idea. He’s definitely… assertive. Wow.”
“Forceful? Toppy?”
“Totally.”
“You love that shit.”