by _Anthology
“Did I do that?” Darrell stopped talking for a minute and looked dismayed when he realized Rick was doing something other than listening attentively. “I’m really sorry.”
Darrell picked up his own napkin and came around the table to help Rick try and wipe up the water, his hands clumsy and higher up Rick’s thigh than Rick was comfortable with.
“Oh man, I can’t believe I did that.” Darrell was profuse with his apologies. “Really, Darrell, it’s okay.” Rick tried not to back away from the other man, but honestly, four hands in his lap were two hands too many. He looked up for a moment – and straight into the amused, dark eyes of Mr. Flannel Shirt sitting a few tables over in the restaurant.
How had he not noticed him? Rick flushed with embarrassment – again – at the knowing amusement in those amazing eyes. He abruptly pushed his chair back to remove himself from Darrell’s groping hands.
“Do you want to go change?” Darrell stood there deflated, his glasses sliding down his nose, the wet napkin clutched in his hands.
“Why don’t we just call it a night, Darrell, okay?” Rick tried to speak gently, despite his sudden nervousness. “I’ve had a really long day and I need to prepare for my speech tomorrow.”
“You sure? You’re not mad?” Darrell blushed and Rick felt a surge of sympathy for the other man. “Really, it’s fine.” Rick pointed to another table close by where two other researchers he recognized were engrossed in conversation. “There’s Sam Lin and Donny Walker, aren’t they working on developing unique models of defined aspects of asthma and COPD pathogenesis?”
“Yeah.” Darrell’s face brightened. “I wanted to talk to Sam about working on a joint paper...” Rick waved as Darrell wandered over to the two other men and gratefully headed for his room. Except to get there, he either had to walk up all twenty-seven flights of stairs wearing a pair of uncomfortably wet pants or risk the elevator again. With a sigh, Rick headed for the bank of elevators in the lobby.
THERE was the familiar chime of doom, and Rick was once again forcing himself to step inside the elevator. Normally, he didn’t have this many problems with the hydraulic monsters, but the little lurch from earlier had him wishing that a room on the lower floors had been available when he’d made his reservation.
At least the elevators were fast. Fast for small, enclosed, no way out little metal boxes that resembled nothing more than wide coffins. Rick found his usual spot against the back wall, closed his eyes against his mirrored reflection and resigned himself to fate and bad music when a large hand blocked the closing doors and a familiar form stepped in to the elevator to stand beside him.
“Hey.” The greeting was casual, the smile bright and in his tired haze, Rick found himself smiling back at Mr. Flannel Shirt, even managing to return the greeting without stammering.
“Hey, yourself.” Pretty good, if Rick did say so himself. He’d managed to sound casual and relaxed. “Where’s your dinner companion?” The rough voice slid effortlessly across Rick’s nerve endings, making the peach-fuzz hairs on the back of his neck stand at attention. Well, he could toss casual and relaxed right out the window, couldn’t he?
Timing truly was everything and now that his had paid off, Jonah was playing it casual. Just making idle conversation to distract the Doc from the elevator ride. He’d recognized Rick’s face on the signs for the conference as the man he’d been attracted to earlier in the day and had to admit he was intrigued enough by the contrast between the man’s obvious professional acumen and his personal uncertainty to seek him out again.
“He’s talking with some friends.” Rick wasn’t sure why he didn’t just blurt out he and Darrell weren’t together, maybe it was something about the constant amusement in those exotic eyes that stiffened his spine and wanted him to appear less than available. Yeah, like this was playing hard to get.
Oh, the doc would never make a poker player. Jonah tried not to smile. It wasn’t often in his busy life he got a chance to spend time with someone interesting. Good companionship was hard to find, especially as he preferred to stay away from those on the prowl, and he didn’t have the time for a deeper commitment.
Rick was startled to notice the heat that radiated off Mr. Flannel Shirt when the man shifted, leaning against the back wall next to him. “You’re still looking kind of tired, Doc, you need someone to take care of you and trust me, Blondie’s not the man for the job.”
“Pardon?” Rick was stunned. Did he really just say that? Ignoring the last part of the sentence he just couldn’t process, Rick’s mind focused on a tinier detail. “How did you know I’m a doctor?”
A quick grin widened full lips over those white teeth, and Rick’s brain stuttered. Was that really a smile or was it something more predatory? Kind of an “I’m on to you” look? Rick shivered and he thought he felt the elevator lurch under his feet.
“I’ve seen your picture on those placards all around the hotel.” A strand of the dark hair had come loose from the clasp and fell against one angular cheek. “They really don’t do you justice.”
“Me…?” Rick’s voice stuttered along with his brain as he fought against the sudden desire to reach out and push that stand of hair behind the other man’s ear. Would it be soft beneath his fingers? There was that strange jolt again. These elevators were going to be the death of him.
Jonah decided to up the stakes a little when he noticed Rick’s distraction. Besides, that blush was just too damn cute in his opinion. He wanted to see more of it.
“That’s one hell of a wet spot you’ve got there, Doc. But then you’ve just spent the last several hours with what’s-his-name, and you just don’t have the look to go along with it. I can’t say I’m surprised.”
Rick flushed again and tried not to notice how damp his pants felt against his legs as he struggled to follow the conversational shift. “The look?” What the hell had happened to his vocabulary?
“You know.” The voice lowered even deeper and other parts of Rick began to stand at attention as well, much to his dismay. What was it about this guy?
“That can’t-wait-to-be-fucked look.” The dark eyes stared at Rick intently, and this time Rick wasn’t surprised to feel the small jerk in his equilibrium as well as his cock.
Rick would have given anything at that point to keep the tide of color from sweeping over the rest of his face. He was thirty-six years old, for Christ’s sake. You’d think he could manage to stop blushing. Wouldn’t you?
“And you’re an expert when it comes to that look?” Rick tried to match the other man’s insouciance as he wiped his clammy hands against his pant legs. It’s not like he was a rank virgin anymore.
Jonah wanted to grin. This hand went to the doc. However, Jonah was the more experienced card player. “I am when it comes to you.” The words were almost a purr.
Rick swallowed. Hard. This guy was so far out of his league he might as well have been nineteen and clueless all over again. Shit, okay, twenty-two if he was really being honest with himself about when he’d experienced anything other than a few fumbling attempts at intimacy.
“I knew the first time I saw you just how sexy you’d look, and what I wanted to do to you to get you there.” Jonah deliberately let his voice lower until it was like velvet, rich and dark and oh, so sinfully soft. Just like he’d bet the doc’s skin would be.
“Rea…lly?” Did his voice just crack? Rick was embarrassed all over again, but the other man didn’t appear to notice.
“Really.” There was that knowing smile. “I’d start with that tie, first thing. It’s a nice color, but it has to go.” It was finally time, Jonah decided. Time to stop bluffing and lay his cards out on the table, showing the sweet l’il doc just what was in store for him if he kept playing.
Rick watched in hypnotized fascination as those strong hands reached out for his collar. A part of his brain that was still managing to function noticed the pale skin of the other man’s palms, the other part just stood there, frozen and wondering what w
ould happen next.
He didn’t have long to wait. The hands were gentle on his shirt collar, easily working the knot in his tie loose until it slid down around his neck to be held captive by those long fingers.
“Then maybe I’d loosen a couple of buttons on your shirt.” Rick could only stare as a moist tongue peeked out between the white teeth and the lips so close to his and yet so very far away. A warm finger traced the small V of skin exposed by his now open shirt, and Rick sucked in his breath at the unexpected touch and his body’s helpless reaction to it. He’d gotten hard more often today than he had in months. Carol would be ecstatic.
Was he really just standing there, trembling?
“A little more time spent on the finer details, and oh yeah, Doc, your cheeks would be flushed, your eyes would be halfclosed with passion and your lips would be all swollen and pouty from our kisses.” Jonah’s voice was almost a whisper now. “And you know what?”
He moved even closer into Rick’s personal space, just enough so that their chests were almost brushing but not quite. Rick should have found it intimidating; instead, he found it undeniably arousing. Any closer and the man would have felt Rick’s undeniable physical reaction to him. A tan finger raised and traced the outline of Rick’s lips, barely touching, just close enough for Rick to sense the movement.
“You’d want more.” The words were spoken in an impossibly low voice, almost a breath, and then the only sound was the instinctive whimper Rick gave as the Jonah moved back and leaned casually against the far wall of the elevator, twining Rick’s tie sensuously through his strong hands.
Rick could only stare at those hands, watching the play of tendon and sinew, wondering how they would feel on his skin. Instinctively Rick knew the contrast between the pale color of his skin and the dark tan of the hands would be an erotic thrill all its own.
“But instead, after all that time with Blondie, all you did was look like my grandmother when she’s forced to play pinochle instead of the slots. That’s a damn shame in my book.”
“What…?” Rick was stunned at how easily he’d been seduced with barely a touch. He struggled to find a coherent sentence but before he could find more than “please” and “now” in his vocabulary the elevator chime shattered the silence between them.
“This is your floor.”
Gentle hands took Rick by the shoulders and urged him out of the elevator. “My tie…” Rick turned back to the elevator.
“A small souvenir.”
There was time only for that wicked grin, a pat on his ass and a quick wink before the elevator doors slid shut, separating Rick from his tie and the man that had just, impossibly, improbably, and unbelievably stolen it from him.
“SO what are you going to do about it?” Carol’s voice was
eager. “Hold on for a minute.” There was a brief pause and then Rick had to pull the phone away from his ear as Carol yelled to someone in the room with her. “Honey, Rick just almost got some in an elevator.”
“I did not!” Rick exclaimed. “Hey, wait a minute. Who are you…” “I thought he didn’t like elevators.” The reply was faint over the phone lines, but Rick heard it all the same. “Tell him about what we did in the elevator in Vegas. Maybe it will inspire him.”
“What?” Rick sat up from the hotel bed. “Tell me you did not just tell that to Eddie!” “Relax,” Carol cackled. “Eddie’s rooting for you to get laid as much as I am.” Rick could hear some low murmuring in the background, a smack and then a squeal from Carol right before another voice came on the line.
“Please, Rick.” The voice was deeper and masculine. “Please get laid on this trip so Carol will shut up about your pitiful sex life and I can go back to enjoying mine.”
“Oh my God.” Rick covered his face with his other hand. He knew this conference wasn’t a good idea. He’d told Carol it wasn’t a good idea, but did anyone ever listen to him? He was apparently destined to spend this trip either mortified beyond belief or incredibly turned on. Although the thought of whatever Carol and Eddie did in an elevator in Vegas was enough to kill all but the most extreme lust.
“So.” Carol’s voice came back on the line after a few minutes. “I’m so proud of you and Eddie’s proud too. Now, what next?”
“Sleep,” Rick declared. “I’ve got to get some sleep.” Maybe then he could pull himself together and leave all this nonsense behind.
“You are such a coward,” Carol groaned over the phone. ”The man’s kidnapped your tie, he obviously wants you to come get it. Besides that, he did everything but feel you up in the elevator. It’s a perfect opportunity. Don’t be such a weenie.”
“He did not even come close to feeling me up! And I’m not being a weenie, I’m being sensible.” Rick ran his free hand through his thick hair. “I’ve got a speech to give tomorrow, and I’ve had about as much embarrassment as I can handle for the evening, thank you very much. Besides, I don’t even know what room he’s in or if he’s here alone. He could just be playing hot games that someone else is getting the benefit of.”
Rick knew he was sounding whiny and depressed, but what did she expect him to do? Go knocking on every hotel room door to find what room Mr. Flannel Shirt was in? Bribe the maids? Ask at the front desk if the hot guy lurking around the elevators checked in alone? He’d already thought of all that and decided he wasn’t going to stoop that low.
“I knew I should have let Eddie kick Brian’s ass,” Carol sighed. “That bastard really did a number on you, sweetie.” Rick had to smile at the image of Eddie’s five foot, four inch, 285-pound frame going up against Brian’s six foot, three inches of hard muscle. Now if it were Carol and her kickboxing skills, well, that would have been something to see.
“I appreciate the thought, really I do. You can tell Eddie I think he’s a sweetheart. But this has less to do with Brian and more to do with me just being wiped out. You got it?” Rick wondered why he even called her in the first place. He certainly regretted it now. He was carefully forgetting the way he’d been bouncing off the walls in his hotel room, unable to calm down after the incident.
“Yeah, I got it. I just want you to get it.” Carol started giggling, and Rick could hear a low murmuring in the background. About the only words he could make out were… c’mere, baby?
“That’s it, I refuse to listen to you and Eddie make out over the phone. It’s bad enough in real life. Hanging up! I’m hanging up now.”
Without waiting for her goodbye, Rick disconnected and tossed his cell back onto the nightstand. He loved Carol and Eddie like family but it was difficult sometimes to hear just how happy they were together. Especially when Rick was aware of how alone he really was. And it wasn’t just the Brian thing. He’d always been too smart, too geeky, too focused on his studies to really connect with anyone.
Too scared, really. Rick stood in front of the hotel room mirror and took a good hard look. His damp pants were already hanging over the back of the desk chair to dry and he’d stripped down to his boxers before giving in to his inner teenager and calling Carol to gush.
He wasn’t the same insecure, skinny kid he’d been when he’d first discovered that a good-looking school boy lit up his world more than a good-looking school girl. Honestly, Rick was pleased with the way he’d matured and the man he’d become.
Physically, he’d improved. His natural leanness had come in handy as others his age were having to work hard at not running to fat, and Rick just seemed to develop a more defined musculature. Mentally he’d definitely met his potential as well, achieving his doctorate sooner than expected.
So why, when it came down to it, did he always go back to feeling like that gawky boy he’d been in his youth? It was time to get past that. Time to work on his social confidence. After all, if Darrell could do it, he could too, right?
Rick looked at the clock radio beside the bed. He groaned when he saw how late it was. He really needed to get some sleep. But it was time to look at his notes and go over his speech one m
ore time. Now was the time to be sensible and forget all about dark and exciting strangers met by chance.
Now was definitely not the time to lay back down on the bed with a sigh and close his eyes, remembering once again the swirl of excitement that had filled him when he’d been alone in the elevator with Mr. Flannel Shirt and captivated by that deep voice.
Nor was it the time to let his hand slip under the waistband of his boxers, slip them down and slide one hand up and down his hardening flesh while he thought about those dark eyes and the wicked glint within them. Rick enjoyed the friction of his slow, gentle strokes before he pictured the strong hands twisting his tie between them once again and imagined those hands touching him instead.
Those hands would grip harder; the skin would feel more calloused than his own. They would be hotter, the touch more sure and impatient. Rick’s fist increased its speed and he tightened his grip, pulling harder on his cock as he groaned with pleasure, feeling the oozing slickness ease the glide.
He could imagine that dark hair falling forward over his face as they kissed, shielding him, sheltering him. He would wrap his own hands around those biceps, stroke that broad chest and feel the ripple of the muscles beneath the skin. God, it would be so intense, so…
Rick shuddered, so damn… good. He could only moan as his orgasm rushed over him, leaving him trembling and gasping alone on his hotel bed.
Damn.
Now was the time to clean off the damn notes for his speech that he’d left on the bed.
Double damn.
And figure out what tie he was going to wear tomorrow.
THERE was a certain skill to giving a good speech. The ability to read the crowd and keep their attention, no matter how dry and erudite the subject matter, was mainly instinctive and difficult to learn. Rick was a good public speaker and he knew it. It was something he’d always taken pride in, especially as he’d sat through some absolutely horrible speeches in his time.
Rick looked out over the crowd, pleased to see that he’d only lost a few to the obligatory restroom breaks and that other than those with obvious hangovers from the unusual amount of partying the night before everyone appeared to be awake. Not too bad for as late in the afternoon as it was. He always hated being one of the last speeches of the day, preferring to get it over with bright and early.