“I’m not—”
“I want to know you. That’s all I’m asking for.”
“Why?” I croaked.
“Because you’re special.”
“I’m not,” I answered. “I’m just an average guy.”
Lucas chuckled. He tugged me closer until my chest brushed his, clasped his hands behind my neck and held me there for a beat before bringing our foreheads together. We breathed the same air and that feeling of possibility flooded over me again. I couldn’t pinpoint what about him spoke to me so strongly, but I could nevertheless sense it pumping in my blood and knew that I was in trouble. When he released me, he stepped back and traced a finger to my cheek. “I’m going to thoroughly enjoy changing your mind about that.”
“Lucas, I haven’t changed my mind.”
He smiled and nodded his acknowledgment. “I’m going to thoroughly enjoy changing your mind about that, too.”
“Lucas,” I protested as he held me in his gaze. “I’m too old—”
Lucas moved his finger to my lips. “Buy me a drink, Kyle.”
I nodded, and he grabbed my hand as we walked the rest of the way toward the door. He stepped in front of me to open it. “After you…” He guided me inside with a hand to my lower back. “Daddy,” he added under his breath.
Mortified, I glared at him. He laughed, wrapped his arms around my body and squeezed. “Just trying it out,” he whispered in my ear. My every hair stood at attention immediately upon feeling his warm breath across my neck.
“I-I-I’m n-not….” I stuttered. I didn’t even know what I was trying to say.
Lucas shrugged. “That’s okay. We’ll work up to it.”
I couldn’t contain my laughter. Sitting in class, I’d felt sixty. Now, being the target of Lucas’ unrelenting attention, I felt twenty again. Lucas waggled his eyebrows at me, but for a split second, I thought he might have been serious. “Wait. You’re kidding, right?” I asked.
Lucas laughed off my question without an answer and approached the hostess stand.
The host offered us a choice between the bar and a booth. I chose the bar, thinking it would be less intimate, but as soon as we sat, Lucas proved me wrong. He rested his hand on my thigh and worked touches into our every interaction, as though determined to desensitize me.
He talked about his other summer classes and slowly his cocky veneer faded, revealing the same charming, self-effacing humor he’d shown during our first date.
“It was a disaster. There was literally sauce dripping from the wall. My mother got me all stressed over following her recipe to the letter, and it didn’t say to turn the heat down or cover it. Apparently, she didn’t think those steps needed to be explained. I scrubbed the wall bare but it’s still stained. I’ll probably need to repaint the whole apartment.” He cracked up, and I nursed my beer, smiling.
“Why do you need to repaint? Just touch up that area.”
“I want it to match. Forget Fifty Shades of Grey. There are fifty shades of white.”
The reference conjured up memories. Kayla had taken great pleasure in reading the sexy parts of the entire sordid trilogy to me, complete with over-the-top narration. My face warmed, and I noticed Lucas was smirking. “What?”
“I knew it. You’ve read those books, haven’t you? After the library…the way you responded. I know you have a kinky side. You know they have awesome erotica with two men, probably more up your alley.”
Glancing around, I blushed. “I don’t think… You should call your landlord. They probably have gallons of it lying around. I’m sure they will give you some, or at the very least give you the brand and color so you can pick up a small amount.”
Lucas grinned, and I couldn’t tell if he was amused by my embarrassment or grateful for the suggestion, but regardless, he let the topic of kink go. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. Thanks, Kyle.”
I shrugged. “No problem. If you need brushes or anything, I have plenty.”
“Thanks.” He took the bottle from my hand and tilted it. “You’re empty. How about one more?”
I noted the time—almost eleven, and I had a crew to meet at six. Lucas downed his last swallow and flagged the bartender. “So, what’s it going to be, Kyle?”
While he waited for my answer, he scraped his lip between his teeth. The intense way he watched me sent my pulse racing, and my internal dialogue had already abandoned the list of reasons I shouldn’t kiss him to focus on the reasons I shouldn’t go home with him. But God, did I want to. Lucas’ sex appeal wasn’t so much the confidence I’d seen in the library but the ease with which he was unabashedly himself. I somehow knew he was the type of guy to lay all his cards on the table and dare me to play. I had no clue how I was supposed to walk away.
“Sure. One more.”
The bartender left to fill our order. Lucas took my hand and played his fingers over my palm. He brought my hand up to his face and, with his eyes laser-focused on mine, he slowly pressed his lips to the back of my hand. The energy of his kiss unleashed an overwhelming, and not entirely pleasurable, sensation, like a colony of ants crawling over my skin. I tugged my hand free and rubbed my arm to dull the tingles. Jesus. What is this kid doing to me?
Lucas camped in my personal space while we finished our third round. His right hand never left my body, and whenever I shifted, he moved with me. I became hyper-aware of where we were connected, and as soon as I’d become accustomed to his touch, he’d relocate, landing feather-like strokes over raw nerve endings.
We closed down the restaurant.
Slowly, Lucas walked with me to my car. My mind was on overdrive. I’d hadn’t been so turned on in ages, and I’d pretty much told my better judgment to forget the list and take the night off.
“Thanks for the drinks, Kyle.”
“You’re welcome.” I swallowed hard, and my lips itched to taste the sweetness of his breath.
“So…” We reached my truck and he paused to search me.
I fingered my key fob, knowing that once I pushed the unlock button, I’d have no choice but to leave. I shifted nervously, hovering my thumb over the button. “So,” I mimicked, uncertain of what to say.
He cradled my chin and lifted my eyes to him. “I want to take you out next time. Friday?”
“You going to cook for me?”
Lucas laughed and ran his hand over my chest. I loved that he touched me so freely now. It was exquisitely slow foreplay. “I would love to cook for you, but don’t you think we should stay in public for now? Until we figure some things out.”
My willpower would snap like a twig in private. “Lucas, I know myself. I don’t think I can handle your… Um…your—”
“My job?” Lucas offered.
“Yeah,” I breathed out. “I’m not cut out for it. I’m sorry.”
“A date, Kyle. Let’s cross that bridge when we get to it.”
“Lucas—” I protested.
“Baby,” he whispered, tugging me to him. The endearment melted me. “Let me prove it to you. Work is work. This is different. I’ve never wanted anyone like I want you. When you walked into the classroom, I was so damn happy. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that day in the library. Stop fighting this. We can figure it out. Let me wife you up.”
I choked out a laugh. “You want to what now?”
Lucas smiled. “It’s an expression. Let me date you, call you mine, get all Facebook-official and post cute pictures of us on my Instagram. I want this so much.”
“Your Instagram?”
“Yeah. My followers love when I’m in a relationship. They will ship us so hard.”
I gulped. “Ship?”
“Root for us. Post comments on every video and picture about how cute we are. Do you have a Twitter? They’ll want to know it.”
I shifted uncomfortably and Lucas stilled me. “Or not. Oh shit. New plan. No Instagram. No Twitter. Just date and get to know each other. Privately. Please don’t be scared off. I wanted to show you off, but I d
idn’t think that through.”
“Okay,” I said, uncertain of my decision.
“Okay?”
“Yeah. Um, wife me up…or whatever. But no Instagram. No Tommy Bruiser, just Lucas Cass.”
“Really?”
“I can’t promise I’ll be okay with it, but um… We can do what you said. Cross that bridge later or whatever.”
“So, you’re okay that I’ll be working?”
I sighed. There was only one way to avoid losing my mind. “We date. For the summer. We’re not exclusive. You’re free to do…whatever you do. I’ll be free to do the same. We can see what happens.”
“Are you dating anyone else now?” Lucas appeared wounded by that possibility. I tossed my head back, closed my eyes and refused to acknowledge all the signs that our plan contained some glaring flaws.
“I think we should agree not to ask about what we do when we’re not together.”
“For the summer?”
“When our class is over, we can decide if things can be…different.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.” Lucas nodded. “The summer.”
“I need to get home now. I have to be up at five.”
Lucas grabbed my hips and shimmied them as he crowded into my body. He bit his lower lip and smiled seductively, broadcasting every filthy thought. “Come home with me?”
I laughed. “I need sleep.”
“You can sleep,” Lucas offered, but his smile gave him away. We both knew how unsuccessful we’d be at sleeping if I were in his bed.
“I think it might be best to limit the sleepovers until we figure out if it’s going to work.”
Lucas frowned, the panic evident. “For three months?”
“I meant the sleeping part.”
Lucas sighed in obvious relief. I remembered when three months of abstinence felt akin to a cancer diagnosis. I’d weathered three-month dry spells, longer even—sometimes without even realizing. I doubted my forty-year-old libido could handle Lucas. How would I keep up? Then I remembered that I wouldn’t be the only man charged with satisfying him. Ugh, bad plan. Epically bad plan.
“All right. No sleepovers.” Lucas nodded and added, “For now.”
He lifted one hand to my face and settled the other on my hip. I braced myself for his kiss. Ever since the library, when he’d wholly owned me, I’d dreamed about kissing him again. It was a chance to prove I wasn’t as passive as he probably thought. He crashed his lips into mine, but I was ready. Confident. I opened for him and clasped my hand to the back of his neck. When he startled, I took control of the kiss and eased my tongue across the seam of his lips, pushing and moving us until my body pinned him to the door of my car. He dug his fingertips into my hips and moaned while I kissed the hell out of my cocky surfer boy.
When I’d kissed him long enough to prove my point, I stepped back. Swollen-lipped and breathless, Lucas leaned against my truck to keep himself upright. Pride surged through me. I might not be the only one to kiss him, but I could damn well be the best at it.
He reached for me, and I tugged him into my body and dropped a kiss on his forehead.
“Fuck. You do that again and I’m absolutely gonna call you daddy.”
I chuckled and spanked his ass. “You got a daddy kink I should know about?”
He jumped and his eyes lit up. “Maybe.” Lucas’ face twisted with reservation.
I’d never had that sort of relationship before, but the idea of it didn’t exactly turn me off. I stored that knowledge away, hooked a finger under his chin and tilted it to me. “You sure about that?”
His eyes dilated, and even with just the streetlight above, I could tell he was blushing. Arousal surged between us. Oh, yeah. We’re going to explore that someday. I laughed softly. “Let’s tuck that away for a rainy day.”
Lucas exhaled and leaned into me. “I’m so hard right now.”
I glanced down, and sure enough, his crotch had a prominent tent. I cascaded a hand between us and rubbed him. My eyes bugged out. “Damn, I convinced myself it was photoshopped.”
He laughed. “Googled me, have you?”
“Um, only the homepage.” I swallowed with the memory of Lucas’ unreal body.
Lucas smiled smugly. “My tan and abs are touched up, but everything else is real.”
“That’s a shame.” He peaked his eyebrow in question, so I clarified. “I love abs.”
He took my hand and lifted his shirt, guiding my fingers over hard ripples. “Damn,” I sighed again.
“Do me a favor?”
I nodded, breathless. Anything.
“Don’t watch my scenes. I like that you don’t know Tommy Bruiser.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I kind of lost my virginity on camera.” His swagger dipped momentarily, as though his confession made him feel more vulnerable than he’d intended.
“Oh, wow. I can’t imagine.”
“I didn’t look like this until a few years ago.” The red in his cheeks deepened, but he brushed it off. “I was a really late bloomer.”
I pictured an awkward pubescent Lucas and chuckled. “I won’t. Truthfully, I don’t want to.”
“I know.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. It’s one of the reasons I like you so much. I know we said ‘not exclusive’, and I won’t push if that’s what you need, but know I won’t be… Outside of work, it’ll only be you.” And with that simple confession, his cards were all face-up and laid before me.
I smiled and brushed the blond strands out of his eyes. “Thank you,” I whispered.
“Good night, Kyle.”
I kissed him briefly then climbed into my truck. “Good night, Lucas. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Chapter Five
Brunch with Kayla’s family was its usual hilarity. They seated our table for six in the back, window-filled room of the Dew Drop Inn, offering views of the expansive garden and the persistent aroma of their world-famous cinnamon roll French toast. I caught whiff after whiff as the tuxedo-clad servers carried plates from the kitchen to the outside patio.
Patrick’s proposal had been planned to reenact his first meeting with Tracey. Although Kayla and Tracey had been roommates their senior years, she hadn’t met Patrick, who’d gone to Boston for college, until a few years after they’d graduated. Patrick had been home for break, having finished his first semester of law school at UCLA. Meanwhile, Kayla had decided to bring Tracey to her family’s regular weekend brunch. The sparks flew instantaneously. The rest, as they say, was history.
A reminder of how these things were supposed to look was precisely what I needed after my evening with Lucas the previous Friday. Leading up to our date, we’d texted or spoken every day and had had a great time at dinner—until he’d mentioned he had to work the following day. The mood took a nosedive, and though we’d parted with some kissing, he hadn’t insinuated we continue the evening and neither had I. I’d spent my Saturday trying desperately to not think about Lucas and what he was doing.
“Patrick did good,” I whispered to Kayla. She poured mimosas from the pitcher into our glasses.
“Kyle, my good man”—Mitch sat next to me and patted me on the back—“what’s new with you?”
I took a sip of my drink. “Not much, work and school—the usual these days.”
“How are your folks, dear? Are they enjoying their condo?” Esther asked.
“Good. Yes, they love being in the warm weather. They’re planning to take a cruise for their anniversary. Forty-five years next month.”
“Oh, goodness. What fun. We should do something like that, Mitch. Have you been cruising before, Kyle?”
Kayla choked back a laugh, and I avoided her eyes. “No. It looks like a good time,” I answered with as close to a straight face as I could manage. Thankfully, neither Mitch nor Esther knew Kayla was the one who’d gotten me shitfaced, stuck a sailor hat on my head and shoved me into my first gay bar on the night
of my twenty-first birthday with orders to cruise the go-go boys. It was the last time I ever let her watch Queer as Folk with me.
“You should take one of those gay cruises. I saw something the other day—a whole show about places that cater to men who love men, a ‘gaycation’ they called it. Wild.”
I chuckled, and Kayla groaned. “Dad…stop.”
“Well. The show called it a ‘gaycation’, Kayla, not me. Have you heard of that, Kyle—a ‘gaycation’?”
“Dad. I beg you to stop saying ‘gaycation’.”
I laughed and Mitch shrugged but continued muttering to me under his breath while Kayla spoke to her mother. “It sounds like something a young man like you would enjoy. Men in nut huggers grinded all up on each other. That’s what they called it, not me. I’m just the messenger. Don’t take Kayla. I don’t think this is an event where you take your fag hag.”
I barked out laughter, spewing mimosa all over the table and my shirt.
“Did you call me a ‘fag hag’? Dad, honestly.” I shared a look with Kayla that let her know exactly how often I would use the conversation against her, just as Patrick and Tracey arrived.
“Sorry we’re late,” Patrick announced and explained that they’d gotten stuck behind an accident on their way to the restaurant. Tracey, with her ebony hair and smooth, dark skin, was, like always, lovely and stylish and the exact opposite of her fair-skinned, green-eyed boyfriend, who appeared even more red-faced than usual. I suspected the hand Patrick had jammed in his pocket, likely fingering the ring, explained his somewhat frazzled appearance. Despite Kayla’s reservations, they did make a striking couple, and I was honored to witness such a pivotal moment in their relationship.
“Mitch, don’t call your daughter a hag,” Esther chastised, having missed the context. “Kayla, honey, you will meet a nice boy someday. Look at her bone structure—like my mother’s. She’s beautiful, and you don’t look forty, sweetheart. I’m sure there are still some nice men out there. Tracey, do you know someone who might be a match for our Kayla?”
Tracey ignored Kayla’s death glare and took the bait. I pressed my hand to Kayla’s leg to prevent her from launching herself over the table while Tracey and Esther discussed potentials. I refilled her mimosa one-handed. “Drink,” I commanded.
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