Damn.
Maybe it was for the best—less distracting and all—but Jonah still had a moment of regret. “What, you don’t believe me?”
“Let’s just say you don’t look like the typical Scottie.”
It took Jonah an extra half-second to get the reference. “Oh. Right. Scottie.”
“Beats the alternative.”
Wha…? Oh… Mountie?
Together with the raised eyebrow, the arrogant little smirk that had come over David’s face as he watched Jonah do the math was devastating.
That settled it.
Jonah definitely wanted this guy, and not for just a quickie, either. David was starting to show definite boyfriend possibilities. “Okay, Sato, just so you know—I’m on to you. You are so not what you pretend to be.”
“Yeah? And what’s that?” The effects of wiseass mode hadn’t completely evaporated, and David still showed a hint of that condescending little intellectual superiority complex he obviously harbored.
“Mild-mannered… science geek, maybe. Good student. No threat to anyone.” Jonah’s gaze took in the black t-shirt, the baggy jeans shorts, the nondescript boots, ending with a measured assessment of those deep brown eyes. “I’ll bet you fool a lot of people.”
David’s look back was equally measuring. “But not you, huh?”
“Definitely not. I’m smarter than I look, as it turns out.”
“Oh, really?” There was the eyebrow again, raised and skeptical as all hell. God, that was hot. Jonah wanted to kiss him—bad.
“Matter of fact, yeah.” Standing, Jonah stuck his hands in his pockets and gestured with his head toward the front of the train. “Come on. Let’s go find the dining car.”
David made his decision only after what seemed like ages, but was probably more like thirty seconds, grabbing the seat in front of him and hoisting himself to his feet. Jonah turned to lead the way, hiding his sigh of relief.
He had no idea how this was going to work.
As they wove their way through the various train sections to the dining car, Jonah was acutely aware of David following along at a safe distance. The logistics were going to be interesting. At six foot three, he was used to being the little guy on the team—most basketball players falling closer toward the high sixes and low seven-foot marks to make it on even a college team.
David couldn’t be more than… five-seven or eight, if that. Jonah had never been with anyone that short, but the one thing he knew for sure was that he was going to find out what it was like, and soon.
Was it wrong of him to have a physical type that he knew he responded to? Those eyes. That sleek, black hair. The golden brown skin that made his fingers itch to touch. Stroke.
Cut it out, Simpson. You’re going to make yourself crazy. You’ve got a whole day and then some to make this happen.
Reaching the dining car, Jonah cast another glance back to make sure David was still there and fought his first impulse, which was to hold the door for David. Too date-like. Something told him David wouldn’t appreciate it yet.
It was only late morning, so the breakfast menu was still posted. Jonah ordered the “Big Breakfast,” with eggs, toast, hash browns, and bacon—coffee and juice to wash it down with—then watched with mild alarm as David ordered only an organic soy protein drink.
“That’s it? That’s all you’re ordering? You’re not hungry?”
After finding a table for two, David peeled the lid off and took a sip. “It’s really filling. Ever tried one?”
“Huh-uh. Can’t say as I have.” Jonah found all of that soy-based health stuff vaguely disturbing.
“They’re really good. Soy, oats, banana, almonds, vanilla. Totally dairy free.” Taking another long drink, David’s throat worked rhythmically and Jonah’s imagination began to take over. He thought of all the other things that made throats work that way until his dick began twitching, making Jonah tug discreetly on his shorts for more room.
Stop it! You’re not an animal. You can keep yourself under control and at least have a civilized meal first. Then you can take the man somewhere private and tear all his clothes off.
Licking away a small mustache of the drink left on his upper lip, David cast a disparaging eye on the plate of food the bellman was placing before Jonah. “That stuff’ll kill you, you know.”
Jonah took a test bite of the bacon, letting the salty taste burst across his tongue like it always did. Closing his eyes, all the better to savor the flavor, a happy smile spread across his face. When he opened them again to search for his fork, it was hard to miss the vaguely disapproving look on David’s face. “It’s a damn shame pigs are so tasty. They’re really very cool animals.”
“I won’t even try to follow the alleged logic in that statement.” Rolling his eyes, David looked pointedly away from Jonah’s plate and out the window at the passing scenery.
“You don’t eat meat?” Jonah forked a pile of scrambled eggs into his mouth and hoped he wasn’t coming off like a jerk.
“Not much. A little chicken; some fish once in a while. It’s hard to go home and not eat my mom’s Spam musubi.”
Swallowing the bite of toast he’d chased his eggs with, Jonah glanced down at his plate, then back up at David. “So, does it bother you to watch me eat it?”
David took in Jonah’s food, then up at Jonah’s face and shrugged. “Not really. I mean, I’m not your mother, but… dude. That’s a lot of grease and fat.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh, come on. Unless you spent the last twenty…?” The eyebrow was back again, this time accompanied by a little snort of disbelief. It should probably bother Jonah that every little thing David did seemed too adorable for words.
“Four,” Jonah helpfully supplied. “I’m twenty-four.”
“Unless you’ve spent the last twenty-four years in a cave, you might have read. Studies have been done. Results were published.” Waiting pointedly for an answer Jonah deliberately withheld, David quickly ran out of patience and picked up where he’d left off with his rant. “Saturated fat? Trans-fats? Cholesterol? Any of this ringing a bell, big guy?”
Taking a prolonged sip from his juice, afterward Jonah let his tongue flick over his lips and was thrilled at the subsequent stutter in David’s speech. Just to double-check, Jonah gave his lips another quick lick, followed by catching his upper lip between his teeth.
Oh, yeah.
Silence fell.
A brown-eyed gaze fastened on his mouth and stayed there, watching.
Sweet.
Slowly nodding his head, Jonah set down his cup. “Yeah, rings a bell. I guess I just want what I want, and usually I find a way to get it. I can be very determined.”
***
Holy cow.
Things were getting confusing and David was getting some seriously messed up signals.
This guy couldn’t possibly want him—but those were the signals he was picking up.
Smokin’ hot jocks like Jonah Simpson did not go for nothing-special guys like David. Much as his fantasy life might like to imagine otherwise, tall, tanned, fantastic-looking athletes with beautifully sculpted bodies didn’t hit on average-looking science nerds like him.
Just as David’s mind produced the ‘beautifully sculpted body’ thought, Jonah hitched up his t-shirt with one hand and scratched his belly. Ridges of golden brown skin and the merest hint of a happy trail showed themselves, and David’s thought process ground to a halt.
Waiting breathlessly, it was only after the hand let the shirt drop again, obscuring that breath-stealing view, that David’s thought processes could resume. He realized belatedly that he’d taken in every microscopic move of that hand; had in fact been rooting for it to shove down into the waistband of the shorts and possibly even hold them out of the way. Would Jonah’s dick be hard? Would it be standing at attention, erect with a gorgeously flushed head, weeping a little with—
“I think I’m done here. What about you?”
> “What?” Stupid and punch-drunk, that’s how he sounded. David’s tongue barely worked and his voice was thick with stifled desire.
“I guess I’m not as hungry as I thought.” Indicating his half-eaten plate of food with a nod of his head, Jonah reached for his foam coffee cup. “I can take this with me, though. We’re done here, aren’t we? Are we done here?”
Even his wrinkled nose and head-tilt were attractive. Jeez, how was David supposed to withstand that caliber of charm and attractiveness? How could any normal human being?
“Sure. I guess.” Like a stupid puppy, David got up and followed as Jonah made his way out of the dining car. Trailing along behind had its good points, though, because it meant he got to study the rear view of Jonah Simpson, and that wasn’t bad at all.
He didn’t need the taped fingers and conditioned build to know that Jonah was an athlete. A man didn’t get legs like that from riding a sofa or a desk chair eight hours a day. The toned muscles helped account for the smooth, easy flow of Jonah’s walk, and it only took a moment’s closed eyes to imagine what that would look like naked.
Jonah must have a roommate, right? Or have had, at some point. Too old to be a freshman, he must be transferring—although it was just barely possible that Jonah had lived at home up until now. David spun a split-second fantasy of what Jonah’s imaginary roommate got to gawk at on a regular basis—probably saw all the time and took for granted, damn his unappreciative soul.
“Hey, check it out.” Jonah nodded at something out the window, paused and waited for David to come stand next to him.
“What?” All David could see was miles of coastline and the Pacific Ocean, its usual green-blue color.
“Look. Dolphins.” Grinning like a kid, Jonah pointed with his free hand. “See?”
David squinted in the direction Jonah indicated. “No.”
“Dude. Right there. There’s like, four or five of ‘em. Right there.”
“I don’t—”
Jonah grasped David’s chin and guided it to the left and down a little. “Right there. Now do you see?”
Fighting hard not to turn and look up into Jonah’s eyes, David tried to focus on what Jonah was indicating and ignore the calloused fingers touching his face. Warm and just a little rough, they were distracting as hell, though. The long arm attached to the hand and fingers was inches from David’s face, dozens of fine, gold-tipped hairs lying close along its surface, beckoning.
The scent of Jonah’s skin floated up and David could almost taste it. It would be clean; a little salty. David wanted to turn and just lick Jonah’s forearm.
That’s pathetic. He doesn’t want you. David’s pride and self-respect made a late-inning appearance.
His libido argued back. Then why is he touching you?
“Excuse us. Excuse us! Bathroom emergency! I’m so sorry.” A beleaguered young mother, moving quickly down the corridor of the train car, the panic-stricken face of her toddler just visible beneath her arm, approached at the speed of light. “Excuse us. I’m so sorry.”
David and Jonah already took up more than half the available aisle space and there was nowhere for them to go. One arm already clutching David’s face, Jonah’s other arm held the foam coffee cup aloft, juggling to keep the hot liquid from spilling on either of the two of them or the mother and child.
David’s gaze flew from the wide-eyed panic he read on the little boy’s face to the staunchly determined one on the young mother’s as they closed in on him and Jonah. The next thing David knew, he was smashed flat against the metal and glass of the train wall, while the hard length of Jonah’s body was pressed firmly against his backside.
For a moment—just one moment, David promised himself—he closed his eyes and savored the feeling. Six-plus feet of solid flesh was weighing down on him and it was incredible.
The only thing that would make it better was if they were horizontal.
The errant thought had barely flashed through David’s head when Jonah eased off him. It was over in moments and David was prying himself off the glass, away from the coolness that made such a nice contrast to the heat suffusing his face, as even now the memory of Jonah’s body pressed to his replayed itself in his mind.
“Sorry. There was nowhere to go and she didn’t look like she was going to stop.” Jonah’s voice was still mere inches away, and the illusion of intimacy it created made David yearn to lean back into it. That’s all it was, though—an illusion.
Instead, he shook himself and glanced up quickly at Jonah’s face, forcing himself to look away almost immediately. Not before he’d noticed, though, that Jonah’s lashes were the same gold-fringed auburn as the hairs on Jonah’s forearms.
“No, that’s okay. I…” David’s voice trailed off. How could he possibly attempt to hold a thought together when his body couldn’t stop remembering? The heat of Jonah’s body was imprinted on his mind, on his memory, until that was all he could think of.
The door to the railroad car slid open again and the attendant who’d checked their tickets made his way past, nodding genially as he passed. “Gentlemen.”
“Hey.” Jonah flashed another of his seemingly endless supply of friendly smiles, and David wondered how he could manage it. David was having trouble remembering how to breathe. Looking down at David, Jonah’s gaze fastened on David’s mouth. “There really were dolphins.”
“I believe you.” David gazed back; realized his mouth had gone dry and blood was filling his cock. What would a kiss from that mouth feel like? And those long arms. Wrapped around David’s shoulders, or reaching down to grab his ass—how would they feel?
“Yeah, so.” Jonah stepped back, and relief and disappointment washed over David in equal amounts. “Did I spill coffee on you? Let me check.” Not waiting for permission, Jonah gave David’s shoulder a little push and turned him around.
“I’m fine. You didn’t spill on me.” Surprising himself with the vehemence in his voice, David guessed from the look on Jonah’s face he’d surprised Jonah, too.
This wasn’t good. David needed to get out of there before his circuits were permanently fried by too much alternating current. He knew when he was outclassed and Jonah Simpson wasn’t just out of his league, Jonah might even qualify as out of David’s species. “Listen, um, thanks for breakfast, but I think I’m gonna go for a walk. See ya around.”
Without waiting for a reaction, David slipped under Jonah’s arm and walked quickly down the corridor, back in the direction of the dining car and away from their seats. He had to get away from all of that perfectly packaged charm and charisma before he did something stupid.
Wandering for a while, David took himself on a tour of the train and all the compartments he could reach as a passenger, walking slowly to draw things out. Although he knew it was out of the question, David would have loved to get a look at the engine compartment. He’d seen pictures, and the control panels and equipment to run the train looked fascinating. It would be a total blast to get in there and see everything, but in a post-nine-eleven world he knew better than to even ask.
The train had passed the Oxnard station a while back and was now running close to the shoreline. Surfers could be seen bobbing out in the water, splashes of black in their wetsuits as they straddled their boards and waited for the next set of waves.
As close as he’d lived to the ocean, surfing was one thing David had never learned to do. He’d done some body surfing as a kid. Had loved the feeling of treading water, waiting for the ocean to swell beneath him, signaling it was time to get horizontal and start stroking and kicking like hell.
Most of the time he’d missed the waves. Too often he hadn’t been a strong enough swimmer to keep up with it and the huge swell of water would pass him by, leaving him to swim back out and wait for the next one.
Once in a while, though, he’d catch it. Catch it just right and know the feeling of being part of something bigger than himself. The ocean would rise up under and around him as
he swam as hard as he could—in a partnership, almost. As the junior partner, he’d be carried to shore by the wave and be dumped out, gasping for air and laughing at the sheer exhilarating joy of it.
David shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned against the window, keeping an eye on the surfers as they disappeared from sight. The train rounded a bend, rolling ever northward, taking him closer by the minute back to school; back for his last year at Mt. Scott.
He hadn’t thought about body surfing or summers at the beach in a long time.
They’d had some pretty idyllic times, him and his brother and sister. Mom was a nurse and had worked full-time to help afford a decent house and educations for three kids. Dad was an electronics inspector for McDonnell-Douglas first, and then Boeing, after the merger. David had learned the principles of electronics from the time he was a kid; he couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t understood at least the basics.
It was his obaasan—his Grandmother Sato—who’d taken them to the beach, sitting under a big umbrella reading romance novels while he and his brother and sister had played. Sometimes his cousins had come along, too, and they’d had a great time digging for tiny sand crabs and making forts, spending hours building elaborate structures of sand with moats and towers, only to have them wiped out by the incoming tide.
So if things had been so perfect, why was he on a train to a college in the Pacific Northwest, then? Why hadn’t he gone to UC San Diego like most of his friends, or even Cal State Long Beach, where he could get his degree and still be close to his family? Why did he have to pick a crunchy granola geek college in a state that led the country in inches of rainfall per year?
David pressed his forehead to the glass, letting his gaze rest on nothing in particular— thinking.
He didn’t make friends easily.
Too much of a geek and, at the same time, too sure of his facts to suffer fools gladly.
Why couldn’t humans be as straightforward and easy to understand as his robots? David could build a robot to do just about anything and a robot either worked or didn’t work, depending on whether or not the wiring and programming were done correctly. No, “Yeah, I wanna fuck. Let’s do it!” one day and, “Fuck off, geek boy,” the next.
Another Believer Page 2