by Emy Calirel
“Maybe.” Trevor visibly swallowed, lust replacing confusion in his eyes when Jerome sank to his knees in front of him.
Jerome slid his hands up Trevor’s thighs, pushing his legs apart. “Maybe you should tell her to give us an hour,” he said, pitching his voice lower.
Trevor inhaled sharply when Jerome brushed his hand over Trevor’s crotch before going higher. “Let me text her.”
Trevor’s fingers trembled as he used his phone. Jerome took his time unbuttoning the shirt, pushing the lapels aside when he was done. Trevor’s chest was exactly the way Jerome liked: just a little hairy and well defined. Trevor was neither too thin nor too muscular, but he obviously took care of himself, and Jerome leaned forward to kiss the hint of muscle under his warm skin. Trevor’s phone clattered on the desk, making Jerome smile. He could feel Trevor’s shaky breath as he leisurely mouthed his way down Trevor’s stomach to the belt of his pants, all the while rubbing Trevor’s growing erection through the soft fabric.
Trevor tangled his fingers into Jerome’s hair and pushed his hips up, silently asking for more. Jerome bit him for it, making Trevor jump.
“Patience is a virtue,” Jerome said, opening Trevor’s pants.
“You look too good for me to have any virtue left.”
Trevor rose up just enough for Jerome to push his clothes down and free his cock. It was long and slim, and Jerome didn’t waste any more time. He used his hands and lips, focusing on teasing the head with his piercing instead of taking Trevor down his throat. Jerome had always loved giving head, the way it made him feel in control, the taste and smell of another person invading his senses. His own growing desire quickly made his jeans uncomfortably tight.
Jerome hollowed his cheeks, and Trevor moaned louder, thrusting his hips up, his fingers clenching on Jerome’s shoulders. His thighs were trembling, his gasps and groans heightening Jerome’s own pleasure.
Jerome looked up, expecting to meet Trevor’s gaze, but Trevor had his head back, his bottom lip between his teeth. Jerome licked from Trevor’s balls to the tip of his cock, catching a drop of precome on his tongue before he pulled away, replacing his mouth with his hand.
“Look at me.”
Trevor shook his head but opened his eyes anyway. His face and neck were flushed, his blue eyes bright.
“I’ll come if I look at you,” Trevor said, his voice rough.
Jerome smiled and tightened his hand on Trevor’s cock, flicking his tongue at the tip.
Trevor immediately arched his back. “Oh God, I wanna come so bad.”
“Then do.”
Jerome held Trevor’s gaze as he slowly took him down his throat.
Chapter 5—Trevor
THE HOT spray from the shower felt amazing, but it was nothing compared to Jerome’s soapy hands on him. Even counting Ronan’s text, Trevor had enjoyed his day, and he couldn’t believe how easily Jerome could lift his mood. It wasn’t just the incredible sex either. It was the small touches and public displays of affection, Jerome’s sense of humor, and his excitement when he talked about his city, the way his accent made everything he said that much nicer to hear.
They washed each other, their hands exploring, not to arouse but for the simple pleasure of touching. Jerome was shorter and more compact than Trevor, his edges softer than Ronan’s muscular build, and Trevor took his time, committing his soft skin to memory. Endorphins were still coursing through his veins, and he felt more relaxed and at ease than he had for a long time. With Jerome kissing him softly and the steam fogging the bathroom, time seemed to stop. Trevor wished it would never start again.
TREVOR WAS picking a clean button-down from his suitcase when his phone pinged on the desk, and he instinctively glanced at it. He couldn’t contain his smile when he read Hannah’s text.
Jerome was still naked when he joined him, ruffling his hair with a towel. Droplets of water were on his shoulders and chest, and Trevor licked his lips.
“Don’t feel like you need to get dressed,” he said when Jerome picked up his discarded briefs to put them back on. “I don’t mind the view.”
“I’m sure you don’t, but your friend might when she gets back.”
Trevor took the couple steps separating him from Jerome and held up his phone to show him. “She’s not coming back. She’s getting room service with Eric. We have the room to ourselves.” Jerome brightened. “Should we follow their lead and do the same?”
“Do what? Order room service in Eric’s room?” Jerome teased. “They might not appreciate our company.”
Trevor shook his head. “I don’t feel like getting dressed to go to dinner. What do you think of room service and a night in?” He put his arms around Jerome’s neck, stepping closer and reveling in Jerome’s warmth against his skin. “Unless you had something planned already,” he amended, tensing when the thought finally crossed his mind. He wanted to spend the whole weekend with Jerome, but perhaps assuming Jerome wanted the same was presumptuous.
Jerome wrapped his arms around Trevor to cup his ass. “Sounds like a plan to me, but you’d better put clothes on, or we might not make it until they bring our food.”
Trevor laughed and stepped back. He handed the guest directory to Jerome before going to his suitcase to get dressed. When he turned back around, Jerome was frowning at the menu.
“Anything look good?” Trevor asked, zipping up his pants.
“Everything looks good. Everything looks very expensive too. Seriously, twenty euros for a sandwich? You think they would mind if we order pizza?”
“I don’t think they would, but I don’t mind paying for room service. It’ll probably be better than a delivered pizza, and I planned on buying you dinner anyway. It’s the least I can do after you spent your day playing tour guide for me.”
Jerome searched his gaze before he looked away. “You choose, then.” He handed the black folder back to Trevor. “I’m fine with anything.”
AN HOUR later, they found themselves leaning back against the headboard of Trevor’s bed, eating the last slices of a pizza from room service and watching the first Avengers movie. Ronan would never have settled for that kind of evening. Their relationship had been all about fancy restaurants and quick sex, and Trevor couldn’t remember the last time he had watched a movie with someone other than Hannah.
“This is really good.” Jerome sighed, pulling Trevor out of his sobering thoughts.
“The movie or the food?”
Jerome reached over to put his now-empty plate on the side table. “Both. I was talking about the evening.”
He had some tomato sauce on his lips, so without thinking, Trevor leaned closer to lick them clean. When he pulled back, Jerome was smirking.
“Tomato sauce,” Trevor explained.
“Mm-hmm. Don’t feel like you need an excuse,” Jerome said, closing the distance between them for a proper kiss.
The feel of Jerome’s hands on Trevor’s naked chest made his skin tingle. Trevor shifted to cup Jerome’s jaw and deepen their kiss.
“Are you tired of the movie?” Jerome asked when they separated. His brown eyes looked even darker than usual, his scruff rough against Trevor’s palm.
“I’ve seen the movie already.” Trevor kissed the corner of Jerome’s mouth, then down his neck. “And I can watch it again, but I only have you until tomorrow.”
Jerome tilted his head and groaned when Trevor nipped at the spot just behind his ear. “Then we should turn the TV off and make the most of tonight.”
JEROME’S SOFT snore came from by his side when Trevor woke up. It was still early, but the daylight filtering through the curtains was enough for Trevor to see by. Jerome was lying on his stomach, his face turned toward Trevor, and Trevor had to stop himself from reaching out to push away the hair falling over Jerome’s eyes.
They had ended up making out for most of the evening, teasing and making each other come until they had fallen asleep tangled together, their bodies heavy and satisfied. Trevor’s heart still
ached when he thought about Ronan, or about the job he had to go back to the next day, but for brief moments the previous day, he had been able to forget. When they had walked around Brussels hand in hand, or when they had been making each other gasp in pleasure, nothing else had mattered, and Trevor’s mind had quieted.
He sighed and rolled to his back, looking up at the ceiling, his arm above his head. Part of him wished they could stay in touch, but Jerome hadn’t offered his number, and Trevor wouldn’t ask. It had been clear from the start that whatever happened between them would only last for the weekend, and maybe that was the magic of it. Trevor wouldn’t have been as carefree if Jerome had actually been a part of his life in Dublin.
When the need to relieve himself became too much, Trevor carefully left the bed and made his way to the bathroom. By the time he had brushed his teeth and walked back into the main room, Jerome was sitting on the edge of the bed, his eyes barely open and his hair a mess.
“Morning,” he croaked, groaning when Trevor turned on the light. He stretched before picking up his jeans and shimmying into them.
“I was enjoying the view,” Trevor said, already missing the contact of Jerome’s skin against his own.
Jerome smiled but still buttoned his pants before he sat on the foot of the bed. He reached for his socks. “Your friend will be back anytime. I hadn’t actually planned on falling asleep and spending the night, but you were very persuasive.”
“Was it a bad thing?” Trevor asked, putting on his own clothes.
“No. It was a very good thing, but as much as I would enjoy it, we can’t spend the day naked and in bed.”
Trevor tilted his head and took the shirt from Jerome’s hand. “Maybe not all day.” He put the shirt aside and knelt on the bed, straddling Jerome’s legs. “But we still have some time.”
Jerome’s eyes darkened and he gripped Trevor’s hips. Trevor leaned forward for a kiss, closing his eyes. Their lips were almost touching when they heard the key slide in the door and the sound of it opening.
“Oh damn, sorry!” Hannah exclaimed, slamming the door shut.
Jerome froze. Trevor let his head fall, their foreheads touching. “Fuck,” he cursed under his breath.
“Not right now, no.” Jerome pushed Trevor away so he would stand up.
Hannah knocked on the door. “Can I come in? Are you decent?”
“Give us a second.” Trevor handed Jerome his shirt back before he went to open the door. “Good morning,” he said, glaring.
He knew it wasn’t Hannah’s fault, but Trevor wasn’t used to having someone to wake up with, and he had wanted the extra time.
“Sorry,” Hannah said, her cheeks flushed. “I didn’t think you would spend the night here, and I wanted to get changed before breakfast.”
She still wore the jeans and pink top she had put on the previous day, traces of old makeup on her eyes. Several strands of hair had escaped her hair tie, curls falling around her face.
Trevor’s annoyance vanished, and he stepped aside. “It’s your room too.”
Jerome was putting his shoes on when Hannah came in, and she took him in before she looked away.
“Morning,” Jerome said. “Hannah, right?”
Hannah nodded and stepped closer to shake his hand. “Sorry for the interruption. Nice to meet you, though. Jerome, the tour guide. Trevor told me about you. Well, he didn’t tell me any details, of course, but he mentioned you. Said you were a great tour guide. I’m so glad he found someone here. Well, not found someone someone, but you two obviously connected, so that’s great. Well anyway, you—”
“Hannah,” Trevor interrupted. “Stop talking.”
Jerome’s eyes danced in amusement, and he was obviously trying not to smile.
“Right. Yes. Shutting up now.” She stood motionless for a second. “We should get breakfast,” she said, making Jerome chuckle. “I need to change first. And a shower. Not in that order, but then we should get breakfast. You’re staying for breakfast, right?”
“I should head home,” Jerome said, his eyes widening when his stomach growled loudly.
“Nope. Your gut disagrees, and you should always listen to your gut, so you’re staying for breakfast. Give me ten minutes to get ready.”
“You’re staying?” Trevor asked after Hannah disappeared into the bathroom.
“Do I have a choice?”
“She’ll think she scared you away, and she’ll feel guilty.”
“And we wouldn’t want that now, would we?”
“HE REALLY put a spell on you,” Hannah said, looking at Trevor over the brim of her cup.
They were at the same table as the previous day, finishing breakfast. Jerome had joined them, and once Hannah had gotten over her embarrassment and stopped talking a mile a minute, they had got on well.
Jerome’s phone had interrupted their conversation and he had excused himself. Trevor could see him through the window, pacing the sidewalk.
“What?” Trevor asked, turning back toward her. “No. It’s just a weekend of fun, nothing else.”
Hannah took a sip of her tea and hummed, pointedly looking in Jerome’s direction. When Trevor turned his head, Jerome was looking his way and their eyes met.
“Okay,” Trevor said, forcing himself to look back at Hannah, “and there’s some lust there too. I’ll admit to that.”
“Some lust.” Hannah snorted. “You looked lusty, all right, this morning.”
“And how was your night with Eric?” Trevor met her gaze steadily.
She blushed. “Fair point. I’m not teasing, though. It’s great to see you smile again.”
“Yeah well.” Trevor brushed the crumbs from his toast into a small pile on the table. “Don’t get too used to it. It’s not going past today.”
“Maybe you should consider—”
“Sorry,” Jerome said, thankfully interrupting her. “I feel bad, but I have to bail on you today.”
Trevor’s shoulders dropped. “It’s okay.”
Jerome grimaced as he slipped his leather jacket on. “It’s not, but I don’t have a choice. Quentin had something come up last minute, and he can’t open the store. We can’t afford to close on a Sunday.”
“I understand. It’s fine. You spent your whole Saturday with me already.”
“And I wish I could spend my whole Sunday with you too.”
“Would you mind if we came by later?” Hannah asked. “I would love to see your work.”
“We?” Trevor asked. “What about workshops, panels, and such?”
“I don’t have any I’m interested in today. I planned on spending the day with you.”
“I would love that,” Jerome said. “Our store is near Grand Place, so you could walk around, see the Manneken Pis and then swing by.”
They both looked questioningly at Trevor. “Sounds like a plan to me.”
Jerome beamed and pulled a clean napkin to him to draw directions on it. “I need to leave, but I’ll see you later.” He straightened and seemed to hesitate for a second. “Have a great day,” he said, kissing Trevor quickly before he walked away.
Trevor watched him go, admiring the way his ass moved under his jeans. Knowing he would see him again later lifted his spirits.
Hannah chuckled. “Yeah, lust all right.”
VISITING WITH Hannah had been nice, but Trevor was glad when they finally made it to Jerome’s store. From Brussels, With Love was tucked between a hipster coffee shop and a laundromat, and despite Jerome’s instructions, Hannah and Trevor walked in circles for half an hour before they found it.
Jerome was busy with a client as they walked in, but his face lit up when he saw them, and he waved. “I’ll be with you in just a minute,” he called before going back to the woman he was helping.
The store was small and divided into two rooms, separated by a couple of steps. The register was at the back, behind downward stairs closed off by a red rope, and vintage posters and hanging T-shirts filled the walls. Postcards lined
one side of the second room, facing the shop window, and in the middle, a long table held snow globes, and chocolate in lunch boxes. Old travel guides and books on Brussels were set on bookshelves alongside the remaining walls.
Hannah and Trevor made their way to the postcards first, and Trevor was impressed by the large selection. Some cards were humorous, like the one with the packet of fries, and some were more classic, with drawing of monuments or the Manneken Pis in different outfits. All of them had the words From Brussels, With Love written on them, in cursive over a Leo Belgicus, or in letters made to resemble the water coming out of the Jeanneke Pis.
“Welcome to From Brussels, With Love,” Jerome said, joining them.
“This is amazing. Did you draw all of these?” Hannah asked, pointing at the postcards.
A faint blush rose on Jerome’s cheeks, and for the first time since Trevor had met him, he looked self-conscious.
“I did. The T-shirts too. Did you have a good time? Where did you go?”
“I wanted to visit the Comics Center. Hannah wanted to see the Royal Palace.”
“On the grounds that I only had today and he got to spend all day yesterday walking around with you, I won,” Hannah said, a wicked glint in her eyes.
Emotion flickered in Jerome’s eyes, but before Trevor could decipher it, the front door opened, and Jerome cursed under his breath. A short, hunched man with silver hair and golden glasses entered and looked at Jerome pointedly.
“Excuse me,” Jerome said. “Feel free to browse around. I shouldn’t be long.”
He met Trevor’s eyes briefly before walking away.
Trevor and Hannah took their time, perusing the selection. Trevor flipped through some books, looking for something to buy, but his attention kept going back to Jerome. He and the man were speaking French, so Trevor couldn’t understand what they were saying, but Jerome looked tense. He nodded and smiled, but the warmth didn’t reach his eyes.
“I know what I’m getting you,” Hannah said, attracting Trevor’s attention.