by Ann Lister
“Why the attitude?” Mason grumbled as he slid up onto the padded table and lay flat on his back.
BB stood beside his relaxed form and began manipulating one leg to carefully stretch the muscles, then bending it, and rotating the limb in the hip joint. “What’s going on with you, Mason?” BB asked. He gently set down the leg he was working on and lifted the other. “It’s like you’re on a mission to kill yourself, and I want to know why?”
“That’s not true,” Mason grumbled.
“Isn’t it? You’ve lost weight since last week, and I don’t have to tell you what a low BMI like yours will do to your body,” BB stated. “You’re gonna start losing muscle, and all your hard work will be a wasted effort. So, tell me what the hell is going on with you?”
Mason draped an arm over his eyes and exhaled loudly. “There’s nothing specific going on,” he lied. “I’m just ready to put these injuries behind me. I want to walk out there and look like everyone else. Am I an asshole for wanting that?”
“Of course not,” BB replied, “but that all takes time, and rushing it will only cause you setbacks. Setbacks that you won’t want to deal with.”
“I’m walking without the cane, no matter what you have to say about it,” Mason remarked. “I limp, but it’s manageable.”
BB stopped working on Mason’s leg and looked at him. “Do you want to know what I think about that?”
“I already told you I didn’t,” Mason scoffed.
“That’s because you already know what I have to say about it, and what does that tell you?” BB asked. “The cane is a stabilizer, and it offers you another layer of protection from falling. It’s another leg for balance. Do I need to draw a diagram for you?”
“Do you have any idea what this is like for me?” Mason grit out. “I’m a fucking Marine and survived combat for a reason beyond spending the rest of my life dragging around a leg. I should be able to rally back from this fucking injury, you know? Put in the effort and push through the pain. That’s what it’s all about, right?”
“If you end your little rah-rah speech with an oorah, I will put you in a headlock,” BB growled.
“Shit, I actually was going to follow that up with an oorah,” Mason said and grinned. “At least you got the ‘charge’ correct. If you’d said ‘hoorah,’ you’d be the one in a headlock.”
“You Marines are so fucking touchy about that battle cry.” BB teased.
“And if you were a Marine, you’d understand why.”
“I suppose you’re right,” BB conceded, “but alas, I’m just a gym rat eking out a meager salary through the sweat of others.”
“You’re such a dick,” Mason said and laughed.
“A dick that you know is right about you overdoing it,” BB retorted.
“Yeah, whatever,” Mason said and started to sit up on the table.
“All I’m asking is for you to take things at a slower pace,” BB said. “Can you do that for me?”
“I’ll take it under consideration, but don’t hold your breath,” Mason replied and hopped off the table, sure to land onto his good foot.
“I’m on to you, Foxtrot.”
“It’s Foxworth, BB,” Mason tossed back over his shoulder before he stepped into the adjoining bathroom to undress for a shower. “So, what’s BB really stand for, blue balls or maybe blue bells?”
“You don’t like BB?” he laughed. “Fine, then call me Prince Charming.”
“In your dreams.”
Mason was showered, dressed, and was back out on the sidewalk twenty minutes later, squinting in the bright morning sunshine. His cane was conveniently left in a locker inside the men’s changing room. If he had his way, he’d never look at the fucking thing again. He scoffed to himself at BB’s remark about the cane giving him another level of stability. He’d tripped because of that damn cane more times than he could count. The only thing that prevented him from face-planting on the floor was his otherwise good balance. Kind of ironic when he thought about it. His balance seemed far better without the cane, than with it. Hence, the reason the stupid thing was inside the building, and he was outside on the sidewalk.
He was about to reach into his shirt pocket for this cell phone when it began to ring. He glanced at the caller ID, and his heart began to pound behind his ribs.
“How are you?” Mason asked through the phone.
“Better by the minute,” Tessler answered. “I got home about an hour ago.”
Mason’s eyes lifted to the brick building across the street. “You’re home right now?”
“Yep, I chartered a flight and flew through the night,” he said. “I’m unpacking now.”
“Holy shit. I just stepped out of the gym,” Mason answered. A few seconds later, he saw Tessler’s image stand before the enormous wall of windows at the front of his apartment.
“Jesus, you look good,” Tessler sighed. “Stay where you are. I’m coming down.”
Mason ended the call and slid the phone back into his shirt pocket. Knowing he was about to see Tessler in the flesh again had butterflies bouncing around in his stomach, and his palms began to sweat. He heard his name being shouted but struggled to see the man attached to the voice through the passing cars and pedestrians in the way. Finally, he noticed someone familiar dart around the people milling about in front of the coffee shop and then jog towards him.
Damn, you are gorgeous. Dressed in faded blue jeans, a tight, white t-shirt stretched over his chest, and flip-flops on his bare feet, Tessler was an image straight out of Mason’s wet dreams. He dropped his gym bag on the sidewalk just as Tessler reached him. There was a moment of hesitation as they stared at one another, both wearing goofy grins the size of Texas. Mason’s hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. He wanted to touch Tessler so badly he could barely contain the urge. Finally, Tessler made the first move by looping his arm around Mason’s neck and tugging him against his chest. Mason lowered his face a bit into the warmth of Tessler’s shoulder, inhaling his skin and rubbing his cheek against his neck. Tessler’s strong arms wrapped around his back, and Mason damn near moaned from the effects of his touch.
“Christ, I missed you,” Tessler said beside Mason’s ear, then his teeth nipped at his earlobe.
“I have that effect on people,” Mason said with a nervous chuckle.
Tessler leaned back to see Mason’s eyes and held the sides of his neck. “Tell me you don’t have plans tonight,” he said.
Mason pressed his forehead to Tessler’s. “What’d you have in mind?”
“Dinner with you on my roof,” Tessler whispered and squeezed the sides of Mason’s neck.
“Our date?”
“Are you game?” Tessler asked. He angled his head and managed to brush his lips against Mason’s. The action pulled a chuckle from Mason, and he pressed his fingers to Tessler’s lips.
“You do realize we’re standing out in full view of everyone around us,” Mason said.
“Don’t give a fuck,” Tessler said. “Do you?”
“Nope.”
“Good,” Tessler said. He leaned forward and bit at Mason’s bottom lip, then sucked it between his teeth.
“You’re making me hard as fuck,” Mason whispered.
“Come back and see me tonight and we’ll eat,” Tessler said.
“Dinner?” Mason questioned.
“That too.”
Chapter Fourteen
Mason arrived back at Tessler’s building just after eight o’clock that night. He’d put in a few hours of office work at Ventura Security, then went home to shower and change for his date with Tessler. Now he was sitting outside in the backseat of the car service, sending Tessler a quick text message.
“I’m here,” Mason typed.
“Okay, I’ll meet you out in front of the coffee shop.”
Mason eased from the backseat and thanked the driver before he shut the door. When he turned around, Tessler was standing there with a huge smile on his perfectly tanned face. It made h
im remember the time when Tessler mentioned he had no tan lines. He hadn’t been able to get that visual out of his head, and his cock was in total agreement—the image of Tessler’s fully tanned body was definitely boner-worthy.
“You’re just in time to see the sun set behind the hillside,” Tessler said. He held out his hand for Mason to take, then started to tug him towards the entrance of the building.
They stepped inside, and Mason was acutely aware that this was the exact spot where he’d kissed Tessler for the first time. That thought had barely registered in his head when Tessler had him pushed up against the brick wall, and his lips slammed down on his. Swift and needy, Tessler took immediate control of their kiss with his tongue licking the crease of Mason’s lips before sliding inside. Teeth clinked together while their tongues wrestled as they devoured each other’s mouths. It was a decadent feast that had Mason’s entire body on fire.
His cock ached for attention, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull out of the kiss to even suggest they move upstairs. The slippery wet haven of Tessler’s mouth already had Mason’s nerves on overload. Suggesting more physical contact between them might possibly cause Mason to come in his pants, and did he really want to spend the rest of the night trying to hide the wet spot? This kiss was heaven and hell, because it wasn’t near enough to quench his need for the man pressed against him, but damn, it felt so fucking good. It was Tessler who finally pulled out of their lip lock. His heavy pants of breath further heated Mason’s already flushed face.
“I had to see if our second kiss would be as good as the first,” Tessler admitted in a hoarse voice.
“And was it?” Mason asked.
Tessler chuckled and said, “It was even hotter.”
“I’d have to agree with that assessment, but we should probably do a little more research to fully prove the data,” Mason said and grinned as wickedly as he could.
“Mmmm, then let’s go,” Tessler said. He took Mason’s hand and started to tug him down the hall towards the elevator.
Mason followed close behind Tessler with so many different emotions flooding his veins. He wondered where the night would take them, and if there’d be a second date. There had to be another date, right? With the kind of chemistry they shared, Tessler would have to want to see him again. There was no way in hell this was one-sided or that Mason was imagining the attraction. Tessler was just as turned-on as he was, and he’d felt the evidence of that pressed into his hip just a minute ago by the doorway.
“You’re walking without a cane,” Tessler mentioned as Mason stepped onto the elevator car after him.
“For five days now,” Mason said. “BB isn’t happy about it, but I felt it was time.”
“You look really good. Strong, like you’ve been spending your days at the gym while I was away.”
“Not the entire day,” Mason corrected. “I’ve been seeing BB in the morning and working at the office in the afternoons, then, if I can handle more torture, I do another shorter workout in my apartment before I go to bed,” Mason elaborated.
“That sounds like a lot,” Tessler said.
“BB said the same,” Mason admitted and shrugged. “I feel good, and it doesn’t seem like too much to me.”
A moment later, the elevator stopped on the roof level of the building. When the doors slid open, Mason’s eyes were greeted with a scene like none he’d ever witnessed. It was like stepping onto a movie set: Strings of white lights draped through the open air above them and were attached to a wire frame which created a canopy that looked like twinkling stars.
The stone fire pit was to the right of them and elevated up on a round, granite platform. It was loaded up with burning firewood, and fingers of smoke snaked around them and permeated the summer sky. An L-shaped, gray couch, with thick throw pillows covering the plush cushions, was positioned in front of the fire pit with cocktail tables set at each end. Both tables had candles burning in the center of them.
To the left on the street side of the building, there was an outside kitchen complete with a grilling station, a full stove top range, and an oven. Beside it was a table made of a dark wood that Mason thought might be teak. Two place settings sat on top of the table with cream-colored candles, their flames flickering in the center. The scent of grilled meat met his nose, and Mason moaned out loud.
“You like steak tips?” Tessler asked.
“I do and it smells amazing,” Mason said. “I can’t believe you went to this much trouble. I thought you said something about keeping it simple.”
“No busting my balls about me doing this,” Tessler answered. “I never get the opportunity to entertain up here and I felt … I don’t know … inspired, so shut up.”
“Trust me, I’m not complaining,” Mason countered. “I’m a little stunned, is all. No one has ever put this much effort into being with me.”
“Oh, you’re definitely trouble, but I have a feeling you’re worth the effort,” Tessler said and his lips lifted on one side in an adorable grin.
Mason felt that crazy flutter in his stomach again. It seemed to happen a lot with Tessler around. He was gradually becoming a huge fan of that anxious knot and the sweaty palms that came along with it. All wrapped together it was a rush like no other, and it made him feel more alive than he’d felt in a very long damn time.
“Come with me and let me get you a drink,” Tessler said and walked over towards the kitchen area. He opened up a full-sized refrigerator and looked over his shoulder back at Mason. “What would you like? I’ve got beer, wine, or I can make you a cocktail.”
“I want you,” he said.
Mason’s words hung heavy between them in the night, and Mason did his best not to show his lack of confidence. Had he really just said those particular words out loud? When did he get to be so bold? He was often the strong, silent type. Someone who expressed himself better through actions. Tessler was a wordsmith, and maybe some of that was rubbing off on Mason with the more time they spent together. It was bringing out a new side to Mason. A side that was starting to become more comfortable with saying how he felt and what he wanted, and judging by the reaction, Tessler sure as hell seemed to appreciate his honesty.
Tessler’s fingers latched onto the waistband of Mason’s black jeans and sharply pulled him closer. “And you can have me—after we eat,” he whispered against Mason’s slightly parted lips. “Now, tell me what you’d like to drink.”
Tessler was making it difficult for Mason to keep his self-control in check. Hell, he was making it difficult to fucking breathe. He loved the rough touch from Tessler as much as he enjoyed the tease of the soft, but at the rate they were going, they’d never make it through dinner before Mason had Tessler bent over the back of the couch or vice versa. It was the vice versa that had Mason shivering where he stood.
Mason shifted quickly and had Tessler pinned to the front of the now closed refrigerator door. “What if I want to eat dessert before the entree?”
Tessler rolled his hips against Mason’s erection. “You’re pushing your luck, Mason.”
“That’s the thing,” he said. He licked at Tessler’s bottom lip and hissed through his teeth with the next intake of air. “Right now, I’m feeling like the luckiest guy in the world.”
Fast like a bolt of lightning, Tessler had their positions switched, and suddenly Mason was the one slammed against the metal surface of the refrigerator. “You are impossible for me to resist, but I’m still gonna make you wait for dessert, you horny fucker.”
“Your dirty mouth only makes my dick harder,” Mason said. Again, his bold words were unsettling to his own ears, but Jesus, he loved the flare of heat he saw spark in Tessler’s eyes from hearing them.
Tessler’s fingers slid up the back of Mason’s head and gave him goosebumps. His long digits fisted the short bit of length he had on the top and tugged hard. “Something tells me you like a good challenge,” Tessler whispered the words against Mason’s mouth, then flicked his tongue inside. “So, I’m
going to challenge you to eat the dinner I prepared for us before you rip the clothes off my back. If you achieve that goal, then I promise dessert will be something you’ll want to savor on your tongue for a long time to come. You might even beg me for seconds.”
Tessler punctuated the last sentence with a final punch of his hips against Mason’s groin before he pushed himself away and left Mason’s boneless form ready to slip to the floor in a heap of sexual frustration. Mason reached for the edge of the counter top to catch himself and chuckled. Tessler was like no one he’d ever met. The mixture of pheromones and wild imagination bouncing between them like a tennis match was a sensual cocktail Mason wanted to either slurp up or drown in. It was hot and desperate and Mason couldn’t wait to experience everything Tessler had to offer. Including dinner.
Fuck! That’s right. I have to get through dinner first!
“Hungry?” Tessler asked.
The one word question pulled Mason from the fog bank his brain was suffocating in, and his eyes bounced to Tessler removing plates of food from the oven. Hungry? Was he fucking kidding right now? “Yeah, I’m starved,” Mason answered.
“Good, because I grilled way too much meat for us to eat,” Tessler said around a devious grin. He was obviously having fun with his word choice and that annoyed Mason as much as it turned him on.
“I’m sure I won’t have any trouble eating what you’ve prepared,” Mason replied.
“Good to know,” Tessler said with a teasing tone. He glanced at Mason and winked, then carried a tray over to the table with plates of grilled steak tips, roasted vegetables, and a bowl of wild rice.
The aromas swirling around the kitchen area right now were incredible, and Mason’s mouth watered. Besides his mother, Mason couldn’t remember anyone else who had cooked for him before Tessler. The entire atmosphere Tessler had created tonight, between the lights and candles and the food, was so . . . intimate. It felt powerful and somehow Mason knew, all their teasing aside, this moment was seriously important to both of them—no matter what may or may not happen on a physical level after dinner. The fine hairs on Mason’s body lifted as that thought settled into him, and he found himself reaching for Tessler after he’d set the tray of food down onto the table.