by Jodi Payne
Reese didn’t have the capacity for small talk with Paul. Not tonight. Maybe not ever. “Oh. Good. Listen, Paul, enjoy your night. I was just going to… if you’ll excuse me.” He was originally thinking martinis, but now he wanted something strong and straight up.
“Hey.” Paul reached out and took hold of Reese’s arm as Reese moved past him. “Wait.”
Reese glanced sharply at the hand on his arm and then glared at Paul.
Paul let him go. “Sorry.”
He shook his head and turned away, headed for the bar. Of course Paul fucking followed him.
“Bourbon,” Reese told the bartender.
“Whoa. Somebody means business.”
“You haven’t seen me in a year and you’re judging me, Paul?” Reese watched the bartender get his drink and refused to look at his ex.
Paul met him with a biting tone of his own. “You’re right. It has been a year. Why are you still so defensive?”
He felt like his very big city had become unbearably small all of a sudden. Like he was suffocating. He needed air.
Paul moved up alongside Reese at the bar. “Come on, let’s talk, huh? It doesn’t have to be like this.”
Reese picked up his glass and tossed back its entire contents. He set the glass back on the bar, tapped the rim, and the bartender poured him another finger’s worth. Reese turned to look at Paul, doing his best to keep his voice calm. “What are you doing?”
“What am I…?” Paul shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s been a long time, you look great, things change. I thought maybe we could talk.”
“Talk.”
“Well, yeah.”
“After everything we went through?” Reese could not imagine what Paul thought they had to talk about. Did he want to be friends? Because there was no way.
“Went through…?”
“You seriously want to go over all of it again?”
“Reese, it was a breakup. A sad one, yes, but it was a long time ago.”
Reese raised an eyebrow. “Were the weeks surrounding our breakup not the worst of your life too? Because I’ll tell you what, that ‘breakup’ did a fucking number on me.”
Paul stared at him. “Oh, Reese.”
Reese just shook his head. “I’m sorry, Paul. I can’t.”
“You didn’t stop me,” Paul said, raising his voice. “You know that? You’re the one that let me leave. You didn’t say a single word. And no, I had no idea what it did to you because, as usual, you didn’t let me in to see it. If you’re still angry, put it in the right place.”
Reese swallowed hard.
“You never even called,” Paul added.
“Of course not,” Reese shot back. “What was I going to say? You left for all the right reasons? It was too hard on both of us?”
Paul shrugged. “Maybe?”
“I couldn’t see what getting in touch with you again would accomplish, other than starting an argument.”
“Well, maybe we could have at least forgiven each other.”
Forgive? No way. Not back then. Maybe he could think about that now, but it took Reese months of therapy just to figure out how to forgive himself. And to be honest, Reese wasn’t sure he’d really accomplished that either.
“I’m sorry, Reese.” Paul reached over and laid a hand on Reese’s back.
Reese shrugged Paul’s arm off reflexively. “Please don’t.”
Paul made a “hands off” gesture. “All right. Okay.”
Reese reached for his glass, but just as he lifted it to his lips, he caught sight of Owen in the mirror behind the bar, staring at him from a few feet behind Paul’s shoulder. Owen’s expression was stony, his stance aggressive, and he was intently watching them both. God, he was a sight for sore eyes. Reese set the glass back down on the bar untouched and turned around, giving Owen a smile and waving him over.
Owen moved closer, and Reese could feel the tension in Owen’s body. He slipped an arm around Owen’s waist to reassure him. “Hey, beautiful.” Reese gave Owen a quick kiss. “Paul, this is Owen. Owen, you might remember Paul. He’s the ex I told you about?”
Owen shot Reese a look and then slowly turned back to Paul. “Hello, Paul.” His tone was absolutely flat and for some reason, the hint of possessiveness made Reese straighten his shoulders.
“I had forgotten that Paul is on the board of the symphony. Owen is in the orchestra. He plays cello. He’s very talented.”
Paul looked between them silently.
“So.” Reese gave Paul a hard stare. “I’m sorry. What was it you wanted to talk about, again?”
Paul held Reese’s gaze for a long moment. “All right, Reese. Okay. You’ve made your point.”
Reese just nodded.
“I wish you both the best. Good to meet you, Owen. Good night, Reese.”
Reese watched Paul go, then reached for the drink he’d left sitting on the bar and shot it down his throat. He set the glass down again and leaned on the bar as he took a long steadying breath and let it out slowly.
“I’m sorry, Owen. What you saw—it was not at all what you were thinking.”
Owen shrugged. “I’m not sure what I was thinking, except that you were late coming back with my drink. I could tell something wasn’t right between the two of you. I just didn’t know what it was. Are you okay?” Owen stayed close and wrapped an arm around Reese’s hips.
“I’m… yes. I’m okay, I just… was not expecting that. Him.” Reese shook his head. He didn’t want to think about Paul anymore, so he reminded himself that he had set out to make the night about Owen. Reese let go of the bar and slipped his arms around Owen’s waist. “Never mind. I owe you a drink.”
“You’re upset. Do you want to just go home?”
Reese looked at Owen, finally beginning to feel the mellowing effects of the bourbon. “No. I’m good. You know what I want to do?” He gave Owen a grin.
Owen gave him a tentative smile in return. “What?”
“I want to dance with my boyfriend.”
Owen looked a little skeptical but apparently couldn’t resist the offer. “Sounds great.”
THE DANCE floor was warm and crowded, but Owen and Reese spent most of the evening dancing anyway. At some point Reese stopped keeping track of time. In fact, he’d even taken off his watch and stuffed it in his pocket. He didn’t care what time it was; he’d put his unexpected run-in with Paul out of his mind, and he was having a great time. Owen was irresistible, in his element, surrounded by friends and colleagues, and dancing in Reese’s arms. He’d never seen Owen so carefree.
Still, the party hadn’t even started until eleven o’clock. They’d been talking, eating, dancing, and drinking for hours. Reese had met so many people that he had a brand-new catalog of names in his head, but he couldn’t match a single one of them to an actual face.
Reese spun Owen around and leaned in close, tasting the side of Owen’s neck. Owen was becoming more and more relaxed. He was either getting tired, very drunk, or horny. Reese was hoping for the latter, but any combination of the three meant he should probably take Owen home. Owen arched into Reese, leaning heavily on him.
“How are you feeling?”
“Want you.” Owen turned his head and looked into Reese’s eyes. “Take me home?” Owen’s face was flushed, and he punctuated his request by pressing a fairly firm erection into Reese’s thigh.
Oh, good. Drunk and horny. Reese could work with that. He pulled out his phone to order a car as he led Owen off the dance floor and discovered it was 4:17 a.m. At least Reese wasn’t trashed; he might be able to function by lunchtime.
By the time the car arrived, Owen was all over him. He poured Owen into the car and climbed in after, and as the car drove off, Owen practically climbed into Reese’s lap. “Fuck me.”
Reese chuckled. “Still in the car, babe.”
“Don’t care.” Owen kissed him hard. He was clearly a little more on the drunk side than Reese had originally thought. Still, Reese made a mental not
e to ask Chad about that private car and driver; suddenly it seemed like a really, really good use of his disposable income.
“Babe,” Reese said around the kiss. “We’ll be home soon.”
“Okay. Then you’ll fuck me.”
“Sure.”
“Good. Want you.”
Reese was feeling a little breathless himself, but that might have been the gin on Owen’s breath. “Yeah, you said that.”
He endured the onslaught of Owen’s kisses as long as he could and managed not to cream his jeans as Owen rocked against him. But he had limits, and he was unimaginably relieved when the car finally pulled up outside his building. He paid the driver, tipped him more than he really needed to, and helped Owen out of the car.
Owen was all hands, and Reese literally held him off at arm’s length, the fingers of one hand tangled in the front of Owen’s T-shirt. He got Owen into the elevator and the doors closed. By the time they’d reached Reese’s floor, he was half carrying his lover.
“Home now,” Owen said as they moved together into the foyer.
“Yep. We’re home.” Reese slid Owen’s coat off his shoulders and let it drop to the floor. He added his own on top and led Owen back toward the bedroom.
“Oh, I love your room,” Owen said. Reese smiled and shook his head as he realized that Owen’s drunk part was decidedly winning out over the horny part. “Such a huge bed!”
“Yep.” Reese casually undressed Owen, and then pulled down the duvet and helped Owen into bed.
“You.” Owen tried to touch a finger to Reese’s nose and missed.
Reese kissed him gently. “You.”
“Want you,” Owen mumbled.
“Mmm. Yeah. Later, babe. Close your eyes.”
“Yeah, okay. Love you.”
“I love you too. Thank you for everything tonight.” Reese was pretty sure Owen was already asleep.
Reese wasn’t drunk, but he’d been sure to keep a good buzz on after the thing with Paul. That had been so unexpected and had really rocked him hard. What was baffling was that their breakup didn’t seem to have affected Paul the same way it had him. Reese had assumed it was life-shattering for both of them. As far as Reese was concerned, that further reinforced how right Chad had been when he insisted Reese talk to someone about it.
And thank God for Owen, showing up at the right moment like he’d had a sixth sense. Like he knew Reese needed him. He had no doubt it was his confidence in his relationship with Owen that got him past that moment with Paul. Nothing with Paul had ever been easy, not for either of them, and he’d never felt on sure footing. But Owen’s love was solid.
Solid.
Solid in a way that no relationship he’d ever had before had been. He and Paul hadn’t even come close. They’d spent so much time trying, so much energy listening and being understanding that they’d lost sight of the fact that they had their own needs too. Thinking about it now, Reese realized what they’d had wasn’t anything like love. It was more like codependence. They’d fed off each other’s insecurities.
Jesus. Nothing like clarity at four thirty in the morning. Reese suddenly felt lighter. He hadn’t realized just how much that breakup had continued to weigh him down until it lifted. He reached for his phone and looked up the number he hadn’t used in over a year. He could have said a great deal, but in the end he decided to just say what was most important.
Paul. I’m sorry. Please forgive me. He looked at the text for another second and then hit Send. He paced away from the bed, over to the bedroom window, and marveled at the city that was just waking up when he was about to turn in. His phone buzzed in his hand.
Of course I forgive you. I’m sorry too.
Reese allowed himself a sentimental smile. Forgiven. Good night, Paul.
Good night.
Reese started stripping and adding his clothes to the pile of Owen’s on the floor. Everything about tonight had been a roller coaster. From almost fucking up Owen’s entire evening by not showing up to his opening, to putting to rest a year’s worth of anxiety he hadn’t even realized he was still so actively carrying around. He was absolutely bone-tired.
He moved to the bed and put his phone down on the nightstand, then stood and watched Owen sleep. He was thinking about how much he wanted—how much he really needed Owen close. Owen was lying on his side, half-buried by the thick, heavy duvet, and Reese climbed into bed next to his lover, stretching out along Owen’s sleeping form.
It was time. He’d let Owen sleep off the alcohol for a while, and then he’d ask.
Chapter XVII
“HMM?” OWEN was still half-asleep, but he was pretty sure he’d heard Reese’s voice. He yawned and stretched, feeling Reese’s warmth along his back and the weight of Reese’s arm wrapped around his chest. “Talking to me?” he asked, dragging himself back from his dreams.
“Move in with me,” Reese whispered to him. He felt Reese’s breath against his ear. Owen rolled onto his back and looked up at Reese.
“You’re waking me up to ask me that?”
“Yeah, I am. Before I lose my nerve.” Reese gave him a soft kiss. “Please say yes.”
Owen rubbed his sleepy eyes and smiled. “When you were away,” he said, and then yawned. He was seriously trying to wake up. “Sorry. When you were away, one of those nights that we, you know.” Phone sex. Oh God.
“Yeah?”
“You said, ‘our bed.’” At the time, Reese’s words had given Owen chills, and he hadn’t been able to get them out of his mind since.
“I remember.”
“So you meant it?”
“Owen, I came home from that convention and looked around this apartment and only missed you more. It felt so empty without you in it.” Reese’s rich voice was so confident, so real.
Owen reached up and rested a hand on Reese’s cheek. “Reese.”
“Our bed. Our apartment. Our place, you know? Us.”
Owen nodded. This wasn’t anything he needed to think about. He knew what he wanted. “Yes.”
“Yeah?” Reese’s eyes practically flashed they lit up so bright. Owen couldn’t get enough of his smile.
He grinned back, feeling light. Happy. “Yes. I want to. I’d love that.”
“Excellent.” Reese kissed Owen lightly.
“But we’d have to talk about rent and stuff because I—”
Reese covered Owen’s mouth with his own, stealing his words and kissing him with more intent. When they finally parted, they were both breathless. “Later. Right now, I’m going to fuck you. In our bed.”
Oh. Owen’s whole body responded, goose bumps breaking out on his skin, making him gasp.
Reese grinned at him. “You like that idea, huh?”
“Oh, I could wake up like this every day.”
Reese ran his hand down Owen’s side and took Owen’s cock in his fingers. “You can have this any time of day, babe. Our bed, our couch, our shower, our fucking kitchen counter.”
Owen arched into Reese’s hand. “Yes.”
Reese pushed up on his elbow and licked Owen’s nipples one at a time, teasing them until they were hard peaks and straining for attention. One pinch and Owen’s soft moans turned into a long groan.
“Yes,” Reese repeated, and Owen felt Reese’s rock-hard erection against his hip. Owen rolled again, reaching for the condom and lube and then farther, onto his stomach, bending one knee in invitation.
He could hear Reese open the wrapper and pop open the tube. Owen closed his eyes. God, how he wanted. That quickly, that sure. He was such a slut for Reese, ass in the air, hips rocking. Every nerve in his body wanted.
Owen loved the way Reese used his fingers to slick and spread him. It was so much more than just considerate. Reese’s fingers twisted and thrust, slipping in and out and driving Owen fucking wild. Making his cock ache and leak. Owen arched back toward the intrusion. “Yes. Fuck.”
“That’s it, Owen. Let me hear you.”
“Reese!” Owen knew how much R
eese liked words. Any words, and plenty of them. “Fuck, so good. So ready for you.” Reese’s fingers stroked over Owen’s prostate and fire shot through him, turning his cock to stone. “There! Oh fuck!” More. He needed more. “Reese. Please! I need….” Everything. “I need you. Please.”
Reese growled. Owen loved that sound, so deep in his chest and so animal. The bed shifted. “Right here, babe. Right here.” Reese’s hands were on his hips, and then his cock was sinking deep.
Owen loved that burn, loved feeling so full. He felt Reese pulse inside him and heard him groan. He knew what Reese needed. It was time.
“Fuck me!” Owen cried out and pressed back, taking Reese in even deeper. He couldn’t stop the moan that escaped him, nor would he want to. He knew what it would do to Reese.
“Owen! Christ!” Reese started to thrust, and Owen moved with him, encouraging. Owen couldn’t help it. He liked what he liked. And he liked it hard.
Reese picked up his pace, thrusting deep, driving Owen downward into the mattress with his weight. Owen could feel Reese letting go of the control the rational part of Reese always clung to so desperately, finally letting sensation and need drive him instead. Owen ducked his head and let his eyes slide closed, feeling his orgasm start to build from a warm glow to a fucking four-alarm fire. Every muscle he had was moving, straining, chasing the light.
Reese was grunting, working hard. His fingers caught and slipped and caught again on Owen’s skin. The sounds of sex filled the room. Their room. Oh fuck. Owen spun out, his head reeling, and his climax claiming every ounce of strength he had left. He shot hard, his heart pounding in his ears.
“Fuck!” Reese roared and seemed to grow even larger, pulsing and jerking inside Owen, causing Owen to moan and pant.
The two of them hung there for a while, catching their breath and coming back from that very, very tempting cliff. Owen reached back and found Reese’s fingers, tangling them with his own.
“Be right back,” Reese said, his breath still rough, and they both moaned as Reese slipped away to the bathroom. Owen heard the water running, and then Reese reappeared in the door and leaned in the frame, naked and watching him. “Oh, don’t move. You look like a painting.”