by Lee Brazil
And he did. In between reliving the magic of Ashton's touch and groaning over his own semi-breakdown, he gave a lot of thought to the afternoon and the future, and came to a decision. When he left the bathroom, the bedroom was empty, and he could hear Ashton moving around in the living area of the tiny bungalow.
He pulled on his jeans and grabbed a shirt from Ashton's drawer. The thin cotton tee was a little too tight but at least it was clean. His flip flops were harder to find, but eventually he located them under the chair where Ashton must have kicked them.
As expected, Ashton was in the living room, looking a little stressed as he sorted the flimsy blue books into stacks on the coffee table.
"I have an idea." Bailey watched Ashton drag in a breath and then look up from his exam booklets to meet his gaze. "I can't help you with the grading. But I don't need to distract you from getting your work done either. We have a lifetime together. We don't need to spend this afternoon out anywhere."
The relief on his lover's face was almost funny. "But we had plans." They both recognized how feeble and shallow the protest was.
"I'm going to go shopping, pick up some stuff for dinner and the stuff for the bathroom work. Then, I'm going to swing by my dad's and grab some clothes, come back and make you dinner while you grade your papers."
Ashton stared at him blankly.
"I promise, I won't be in the way. I'll just entertain myself and let you get your work done." He hovered uncertainly in the doorway, hoping Ashton didn't challenge him on his intention to spend the day and night again.
"You want to just hang out here while I work? That can't be any fun for you."
"That's okay, isn't it? I mean, if we're going to be living together, we can't treat every moment like a date. I'll be here while you're working, you'll be here while I'm doing things. We'll be in the same house a lot of the time, that doesn't mean you have to drop everything and entertain me. I'm not a guest here, Ashton."
The thin figure relaxed and a broad smile broke across his face. "No. You're not. This is your home, Bailey. I'd love it if we just stayed in and did our own thing today. And if you fixed dinner for me."
Lighthearted, Bailey felt like his feet barely touched the ground as he crossed the room to press a kiss to Ashton's cheek. "Awesome. I'll be back in a few hours. Anything in particular you'd like to eat?"
"Your dad taught you to cook, too?"
"Some. Basic stuff anyway. But I'm sure that if I can follow a blueprint to construct a house I can follow a recipe to construct a meal."
He ignored the skeptical snort that followed him into the kitchen and picked up his keys off the countertop. His dad had been very thorough, and he knew just what to prepare to impress his lover without stretching his skills.
***
Snick. Snick. Slow and steady the sharp blade slid through the fresh fruits one by one, creating colorful piles of diced chunks on the marble-topped cutting board. Bailey pinched a bit of mango between two fingers and popped the juicy orange fruit in his mouth. It was sweet and tangy, flawless.
The avocado was perfectly ripe. He'd had to ask a produce department employee how to choose one that wouldn't be too hard or too mushy. The end result was worth the embarrassment though. Add diced purple onion and heirloom tomato, cilantro leaves, a squeeze of lime juice, a dash of salt and pepper, and give the whole lot a stir and he'd have his dad's avocado salad for topping the grilled halibut.
Ashton was still grading his papers in the front room, soft jazz piano music wafted from the iPod. Even though the music wasn't the classic rock he'd grown up listening to or the stuff his friends played, Bailey liked it. The gentle, sultry sounds suited Ashton's personality, simple and elegant, bare bones music that just reached in and touched his soul.
"That looks great."
"Fuck!" He jumped, the knife slipped, and he actually saw the blood before he felt the pain of the cut.
"Oh, baby, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have startled you!" Ashton rounded the counter into the kitchen and grabbed his hand to inspect the cut.
Finding his voice was immediately impossible because Ashton's nearness overpowered his senses. He turned his head and caught the concern in Ashton's face. His heart tripped on a beat and he found his voice again. "It's okay, Ash. It's just a little cut. I've gotten much worse on the jobsite."
Ash scowled at him. "Yeah, big tough construction worker. It looks deep and that's a lot of blood."
Repressing the urge to roll his eyes, Bailey leaned forward, crowding Ash into the counter with his hip. He turned on the tap and ran cold water over his hand. "Just hand me a bandage and all will be well."
Ashton flushed and stepped back quickly. "Sorry. Didn't mean to be overbearing." Opening a drawer, he retrieved a box of bandages. Bailey didn't know quite what to say so he kept quiet as they cleaned up his injury.
Ashton covered the wound with a Band-Aid and stepped away. He stared at the piles of chopped fruits and smiled, but the expression looked far from natural. "So, I can finish this since you're hurt. What is it?"
He'd hurt Ashton's feelings? That wasn't acceptable. Stepping in close, Bailey wrapped his arms around his lover's waist and tugged him back so he rested against him.
"It's a salad to go on top of the fish after it's baked. I can get it though. Don't you need to grade your essays?"
Ash turned to face him, bringing their groins into contact. Bailey felt his blood heat at the suggestive contact and hoped Ash wouldn't notice the stirring in his cock.
"I needed a break. I got a good chunk of them done but they run together after a while. I came in here to see if you needed help."
Bailey looked up into Ash's intense eyes. "I have the cooking under control, I think."
"What are you making?"
"Baked halibut, the salad, and saffron rice. Simple and easy. All I need to do right now is throw those into a bowl with some lime juice and put it in the fridge. The fish needs to marinate for another hour and a half before it goes under the broiler."
A lusty twinkle sparked in Ashton's gaze, and he flashed a sexy grin. "Then you've got a little time to fill?"
A hand sliding down to grope at his ass emphasized the intent behind the words. "I think so. Did you need me for something?" He tried for innocent but was afraid he'd only succeeded in achieving desperate corniness.
"Always," Ashton whispered. "Want to take a nap?"
Chapter Nine
Straightening his spine until his vertebrae cracked satisfyingly, Ashton shoved his wooden straight back chair away from the dilapidated desk. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and squinted in the dim light to shut down his computer. The screen went dark and the machine powered off with the irritating whine it had developed over the last few months.
A broad grin stretched his lips and he reached for his phone. He was one step closer to kissing this place good-bye for good. Next semester he'd be operating out of a well-lit, spacious office with a window facing the quad on a campus fifteen miles north of the hell this place had turned into.
The text message to Bailey only took a second to send, and then he began straightening his exam books back into piles for each section. He topped each stack of blue books with a small paper clipped bundle of Scantron tests that he'd been fortunate enough to get scored already.
The only thing he had left to do was administer the last exam at mid-day tomorrow and then compile all his scores into the computer for final grades. The end of six years of Composition 101 hell loomed within his grasp. He'd kind of miss the office though. The room was small, true, about the size of a broom closet if he were honest, but it was also well away from the main traffic avenues of the campus and students who didn't have appointments seldom interrupted his research. Of course, half the students with appointments turned up late because they couldn't find the place, but meeting them in the library or the student union allowed him to work around that issue.
While Ashton looked forward to teaching something beyond how to write a persuasive essay, h
e most anticipated getting out from under Dennis's thumb. His ex-lover had made teaching a trial ever since they broke up six years earlier. Ashton had no doubt that if he stayed at the college with Dennis as department head, he'd never teach anything but freshman comp unless he agreed to resume the affair that should never have been more than the drunken one-night stand that had started the whole thing. He'd been leery of departmental Christmas parties ever since that night.
Footsteps in the hallway and a tap on the door speeded his movements. "Come on in," he called, expecting Bailey to enter. His boyfriend had worked that day on a construction site for his father's company. Today was his last job on the crew. When the two of them returned from their week off, after Bailey moved into the cottage, Bailey would be assuming a job as foreman for small projects and taking over two days a week for his dad in the main office.
The door swung inward and his smile faded abruptly. Brows drawing together in a frown, he stared at Dennis Romgarten. "Dennis. What can I do for you?"
Sweat beaded on the older man's brow. "You didn't return my calls yesterday."
"Yesterday was Sunday. I spent the day with my boyfriend." He ignored the way Dennis's lips twisted in a sneer. Even dealing with the unpleasant man wouldn't dim his pleasure in the prospect of another night spent with Bailey, cooking together, watching baffling British mysteries on Netflix, making love. "Did you need something? He's on his way to pick me up now."
"You haven't turned in your grades."
"They aren't due until Friday. I have another exam to administer tomorrow morning, and then I'll turn my grades in Wednesday. By Friday," he continued, watching Dennis out the corner of his eye, "I'll have my office cleared and vacated so you can move in the next poor sucker who'll be stuck teaching kids what they should have learned in high school."
"You said you enjoyed teaching this class."
"I said that because I knew you assigned me these classes as a petty little revenge."
Dennis stepped into the room, looming tall and bulky in the cramped space of Ashton's office. "Ash, there's no call for you to leave. You can teach some of the literature classes next fall. Old Dominic is retiring. I'll give you his classes and we can go back to the way things used to be."
What unbelievable gall the man had. Disbelieving, Ashton rose from his chair and leaned forward, squaring his jaw. "No, we can't. As I said before, I'm with someone that I care about very deeply. And I will never work for you again."
"That kid? I saw him drop you off this morning. He has a student parking sticker on his car. He's too young for you. He'll meet someone one day and leave you behind just as you left me."
The expression on Dennis's face was ugly, but the idea that Bailey would leave him one day struck too close to the doubts Ashton had harbored. Hearing his own fears from his ex made him realize just how dumb those doubts had been. "No, he won't. He's not like you. He loves me."
"Is that what you think? He's just using you." Watery blue eyes squinted at Ashton. "He's that student I saw you with before, isn't he? What do you think your new department head will think of that, you preying on students?"
"Preying? Hardly." And then and there Ashton felt all his doubts melt away. "Bailey and I have a loving committed relationship. There is no abuse of power, no student-teacher dynamic to consider."
"It's just the same, only you wanted the dominant role." He leaned forward menacingly. "I'll take the whole story to the board here and the board at UCLA."
Ashton scoffed. "On what grounds? I don't work here anymore, and he isn't a student here. Even if he were—"
"Even if I were, there's nothing in the handbooks forbidding student-professor relationships."
The way Dennis jerked suddenly upright was comical. With the muscled mass that was Bailey, young, broad and strong, vibrant, at his back, the man seemed a lot less intimidating and… "Pathetic," Ashton murmured aloud to himself. How had he allowed the memory of this man to tarnish what he had with Bailey?
Dennis heard his comment though and his face reddened. "You haven't heard the last of this!"
"For your sake, Dennis," he suggested, "I rather hope we have."
"I'm going to—"
"You're going to step out of the way so I can greet my boyfriend properly, then bid us both a good afternoon?" The coldness of Bailey's voice shocked Ashton. The usually calm tenor held echoes of Drew Harris's voice from Saturday afternoon.
Dennis finally deigned to turn and face Bailey, sputtering, "Young man, I am the head of this department and…"
He trailed off, eyes widening as he got a good glimpse of Bailey for the first time. His gulp was audible and the color leached from his skin even before Bailey offered a work roughened hand.
"Dr. Romgarten, I've heard a lot about you. I'm Bailey Harris, recent graduate of the Science and Technology program." The subtle emphasis on graduate made Ashton smile. The ceremony wasn't for another week, but Bailey Harris's graduation status wasn't in doubt. He'd carried a four-point-oh GPA for all but one semester of his career at the college and had been accepted with honors into the civil engineering program.
More than what he said though, there was a confidence, a self-assurance in his manner that made Dennis wither almost visibly to a sputtering bumbling fool. "I've heard about you," he muttered, attempting to regain some ground. "You're—"
"I'm in a hurry to say hello to the man I spent all day dreaming about when I should have been concentrating on work." Bailey crowded into the room, dwarfing the shelves crammed with books and towering over Romgarten. He waved to the door. "I'm sorry. Was I blocking your exit?"
Dennis had no recourse but to leave, and Ashton burst into laughter as soon as Bailey closed the door behind the man. His laughter faded as he realized that Bailey was staring at him, a small frown marring the smooth brow. "What is it?"
"How is that I didn't know anything about that guy pestering you?"
Ashton embraced Bailey, feeling the tension fade from his body as he leaned into him. "He's not a big deal. What was between us has been over for a long time."
"He doesn't seem to think so." Bailey wrapped an arm around his waist and peered down at him, only partially mollified.
"I don't care what he thinks. He has nothing to do with us."
"I think he has a lot to do with us," Bailey asserted softly.
"Why? Didn't you hear him? He's preposterous."
"He's a jackass, I'll give you that. But he's also the reason you've held back from me this past eighteen months, isn't he?"
He couldn't deny that. "Yeah. When I was young and stupid, he kind of took advantage of me. I couldn't shake the feeling that I was doing the same thing to you."
"And now?"
"Now, I know I was wrong, and I'm not the kind of man who's afraid to admit when he's wrong, Bailey." The sudden ruddy flush to Bailey's tanned skin, his groan of arousal, the sudden thickening of his cock against Ashton's body made it clear his message had been received.
"So you're giving up on waiting?"
"We've waited long enough. I'm not letting Dennis fucking Romgarten have any more control over how I live my life."
Chapter Ten
Ashton settled against Bailey, savoring the hard muscled body that cradled his. He stretched up a fraction and brought their lips together, delicately brushing his mouth along the plump curves of Bailey's lips, before capturing first the lower then the upper lip to suckle softly. Bailey's body hardened against his; his arms closing in a vise-like grip around Ashton, locking them together.
To his surprise, Bailey pushed him back against the desk. Ashton reached behind himself and swept an arm over the desktop, sending his carefully stacked exams tumbling to the floor. He'd have to sort them again later, but for now all that mattered was getting closer to the man in his arms. He hoisted himself up on the desk and spread his thighs, allowing Bailey to crowd that much closer to him.
He slid his tongue along the crease of Bailey's lips, smiling to himself when they parted easil
y. He didn't have to coax or tease, Bailey's tongue surged into his mouth, and they met in a temperature raising duel that made his heart race. Long minutes passed with just that, bodies crushed, mouths locked. Ashton's hands clutched tightly at Bailey's back, Bailey held him, hands curved around the seat of his pants, lifting him into the pressure of his erection. Subtly he ground against Ashton, until he was forced to push Bailey away or risk coming too soon. They broke apart, panting, staring at each other wide-eyed.
"I…"
"I want you," Ashton interrupted. Unbelievably, he felt no reluctance whatsoever to break his promise to himself. Another man, one who'd been cowering in the shadows of his past had made that promise. "I want to make love to you in every way known to man and then to maybe invent a few more."
Bailey shuddered. His moist lips parted, but Ashton covered his mouth before he could speak. Bailey responded as always with every ounce of passion he possessed, sucking and licking and nibbling his tongue until Ashton once more broke the kiss. "Here and now though…I want you to fuck me. Just like you said yesterday…"
"I can't…Ash, we don't have"—he waved shaking hands in the air vaguely—"stuff here."
Laughing, Ashton leaned back and fumbled his desk drawer open. Keeping his eyes locked on Bailey's flushed face, he dug around in the drawer until he came up with a bottle of hand lotion. "In my back pocket."
A confused frown drew thick brown brows together. "What?"
"My wallet. There's a condom behind my driver's license."
His lover's nostrils flared, a strangled moan escaped the parted lips. Hard hands squeezed his buttocks, and Ashton leaned forward to push up Bailey's T-shirt. His hands slid over smooth skin that still seemed to hold the heat of the sun from the long hours he'd worked outside that day. Leaning in close, Ashton sniffed, closing his eyes as his senses were filled with the scent of sweat, dirt and sun, a faint hint of wood and tar. "Were you roofing?"
"Uh…Yeah. Sorry, I lost track of time and rushed over here." Bailey had retrieved the wallet and extracted the condom. He flipped the packet onto the desk next to the hand lotion, then tugged the shirt bunched in his armpits up and over his head.