by Shawn Lane
“Pleased with yourself?”
Scott shook his head, sat up. “No. With you.”
“Yeah, that was…wow.”
Scott nodded. “I’ll say. I’m starving. Want to go get something to eat?”
Preston shook his head. “I’ve got a better idea. My house isn’t far. Let’s go to my house, and I’ll make us omelets.”
Scott grinned. “Sounds great. Now where the hell are my clothes?”
Chapter 4
Scotty stood in the front hall of Preston’s house and glanced around. He was immediately struck by the hominess. Mail had been tossed on a nearby table. Preston threw his suit coat on a bar stool.
He’d not been in this house. Six years ago Preston had lived in another home with his now ex-wife. Marilyn had decorated that one. It was the picture of clean grace and sterile beauty. The few times Scotty had been there he’d felt out of place and uncomfortable.
Of course, Marilyn had hated his guts. There was that. And she certainly never pretended otherwise. Scotty figured she just didn’t like homosexuals. Whatever the reason, he made sure his visits to their shared home had been rare.
“Come on in,” Preston said, looking back over his shoulder at him. “No need to stand in the hallway.”
Scotty admitted he was hesitant. Just a short time ago he’d had sex with Preston.
Preston, for God’s sake.
Just the man Scott had been lusting after ever since Jack had introduced his best friend to his family. A straight man. Or Scotty thought so. But jeez, what had that all been about at the office, and why had Preston invited him over?
Scotty followed Preston into what was obviously the living room. A big-screen television took up a good portion of one wall.
“I’ll bet games are great on that,” Scotty said.
Preston grinned. “Oh, yeah. That’s why I got it.”
The other pieces of furniture in the room were an oversize brown leather couch, an easy chair, and an end table placed between the couch and chair.
“Sit wherever you like. I’ll start the omelets.” Preston headed through an arched doorway into the kitchen.
Scotty sat in the easy chair and undid the first few buttons of his dress shirt. He had left his coat and tie in his car when he’d parked out in front of Preston’s house.
A simple bungalow-style house from the looks of it. Probably one of the typical three-bedroom, one-bathroom houses built so prevalently in the 1950s and 1960s. In the Los Angeles suburb Preston lived in, Glendale, such homes were the usual structures found in middle-class neighborhoods.
Preston appeared in the archway. He’d rolled up the shirtsleeves. “What do you like in your omelet? I have avocados, tomatoes, cheddar cheese, onions, and bacon.”
“All of those, yes.”
“Okay.” Preston nodded. “Want a beer?”
“Sure.”
“You can put on the television if you want. I’ll bring the food in here when I’m done.” He disappeared again.
Scotty reached for the remote and wondered why Preston was being so nice. Also why he hadn’t brought up what they’d done in the office.
Not all that surprising, Scotty guessed. No doubt Preston purposely avoided the subject. Which had started to bother Scotty.
Would Preston just pretend he hadn’t just had Scotty splayed out on his desk, fucking him to within an inch of his life?
He clicked on the television, not really wanting to watch anything. The truth was he wanted to find out if Preston intended to continue this…relationship…or whatever it was. A one-night stand? A one-hour stand?
Scotty shifted in the chair.
Get it together, Scotty. You’re just being oversensitive.
Preston came in and handed him an open bottle of beer. He glanced at the television screen. “What are you watching?”
Scotty’s gaze shifted to the screen. He had no idea what was on. He hadn’t even changed the channel. “Nothing yet. Just turned it on.”
“You okay?”
Scotty took a long swallow of the beer. “Sure. Um, you know, I’m just wondering if we’re going to talk about what happened I guess.”
“Talk?” Preston frowned. “About what?”
“We just had sex, Preston.”
Preston gave him a funny look, then headed into the kitchen.
Scotty sighed and leaned back in the chair. He surfed the channels, just clicking through, not really even looking at what shows he passed.
A few minutes later, Preston returned carrying two heaping plates of omelets and fried potatoes. He handed one to Scotty and then sat on the leather couch.
Scotty inhaled the scent of bacon and cheese. “God, this smells great. I’m starved. You cook?”
“Had to when my wife left me. Or else starve.” Preston shrugged.
Scotty tried a bite. “It’s heavenly,” he declared around a mouthful. He chewed and swallowed. “So, um, Marilyn left you?”
“Yeah.”
“Sorry.”
“We hadn’t had a real marriage for a while. It wasn’t a surprise.”
Scotty nodded and took several more bites of the omelet and potatoes. He didn’t really know what else to say. Preston didn’t exactly encourage deep discussion and if he questioned him more it would definitely be prying.
“I know, by the way,” Preston said after a lengthy silence.
“What?”
He smiled a little. “That we had sex. I was there.”
“Oh. Well, yeah, I guess you were.” Scotty took a couple more bites, then set his plate down on the end table. “Look, I can understand if you don’t want to talk about it.”
“Good. I don’t.” Preston stood and picked up Scotty’s plate. “You done?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
When Preston disappeared into the kitchen again, Scotty stood. He might as well make his way home for some sleep. His parents’ home, that was. He had a lot to do tomorrow, and lack of sleep wouldn’t help.
Scotty walked over to the kitchen doorway. Preston had already rinsed the plates and was bent over, placing them in the dishwasher.
“Hey, if you don’t need my help cleaning up or anything, I’m going to take off.”
Preston froze and straightened. “You’re leaving?”
Scotty’s stomach fluttered. “Um, yeah. I figured that’s what you’d want.”
Preston didn’t say anything at first. He closed the dishwasher and then turned to Scotty. “No.”
“What?”
“That’s not what I want, Scott.” Preston took the few steps that would put him directly in front of Scotty. He slipped two fingers in the waistband of Scotty’s pants and tugged him against his obvious erection. “That give you a pretty good idea of what I want, Scott?”
Scotty swallowed. His cock grew half-hard when Preston pulled him close. It filled up all the way with Preston’s low, gruff words. Not trusting any coherent words to come out just then, Scotty merely nodded.
Preston bent his head and pressed his lips to Scotty’s. He opened his mouth at the assault and let Preston’s tongue slide in. Damn, the man could kiss.
His lover’s hands went to Scotty’s ass, kneading the cheeks.
Scotty moaned and reached up to encircle Preston’s neck, returning the kiss with total abandon.
He guessed they would eventually make their way out of the kitchen and down the hall to Preston’s bedroom, but to his surprise, Preston broke the kiss, lifted him up off the floor and set him on the kitchen counter. Preston’s crotch was now level with Scotty’s ass.
“The-the bedroom?” Scotty asked.
“Later. This first.” Preston yanked off Scotty’s shoes, and then he reached to unfasten his slacks. “Lift up your hips.”
Scotty did as ordered, and Preston slid them down and off. He pulled off Scotty’s briefs next. Preston reached into his own pants pocket and pulled out a pre-lubed condom packet.
Scotty’s eyes widened. “Where did you get that?”
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“I grabbed it from your desk drawer.” Preston undid and lowered his own slacks and briefs. Now they were both wearing only their shirts. He pushed both Scotty’s dress shirt and undershirt up to expose his bare stomach.
Scotty watched eagerly as Preston rolled the condom on his cock. He reached for his own erection and started stroking it. A drop of precum leaked from his slit. He rubbed it in, groaning.
“Scoot forward a little,” Preston said.
Scotty inched down on the counter until his ass was partially hanging over the edge. He bit his lip when he saw Preston sucking on two fingers.
Holding his breath, Scotty watched the other man insert his slicked fingers into his hole, stretching as he pushed.
“Oh God,” Scotty moaned, closing his eyes.
Preston worked his fingers in and out, pressing past the rim of muscle, probing for Scotty’s prostate. He curved his fingers.
“Preston.” Scotty’s hips rose, his balls tightened. Damn, he was going to come without Preston’s cock inside him if this kept up. “Fuck me, please.”
His lover’s fingers withdrew and he felt the tip of Preston’s cock press at his entrance. He pushed in, past the muscle, taking his time as before when he’d entered Scotty in his office. He pushed himself down on Preston’s cock, urging him to complete the joining faster.
Preston groaned and obliged, thrusting in balls-deep. Scotty wrapped his legs snug around Preston’s waist, pulling him closer, deeper still.
Preston grabbed the counter on either side of Scotty, driving into his ass again and again, plunging harder and deeper each time.
Scotty reached down and tugged on his straining cock, squeezing his balls at the same time. He’d already been close to coming when Preston had fingered his hole; now he was on the edge of a powerful orgasm.
If Scotty had actually thought sex with Preston would ever have happened, which he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have imagined it would be the most mind-blowing sex he’d ever experienced. But it was. It was just…so much more than he’d ever dreamed. Sure, he’d had his fantasies. They paled compared to the actual man pounding his cock in his ass.
His release hit him then, powerfully. He cried out, stripping his throat as cum splashed over his stomach and onto Preston.
After several more hard thrusts, Preston stiffened and grunted, finding his own release. Panting short, heavy breaths, he withdrew and discarded the condom. Then he reached for Scotty and hoisted Scotty to the ground, kissing him deeply.
His legs weak and barely able to support him, Scotty clung to his lover as they kissed. Truthfully he felt a little vulnerable. Too vulnerable. His heart was thoroughly engaged. Always had been really. But Preston…he knew didn’t feel the same way.
The kiss ended and Preston leaned his forehead against Scotty’s. “Now the bedroom.”
Chapter 5
Scotty juggled a Styrofoam cup of coffee and a cheese pastry in one hand and a thick file in the other and stared at Preston’s closed office door the next morning. He considered knocking, or rather shoving his weight against the door since he didn’t have a free hand, but didn’t know if he should stay out.
Last night after sex in Preston’s bed, Scotty had gone home to sleep. Preston had wanted him to stay, but he hadn’t had any clothes with him. Next time, if there were a next time, he’d be better prepared. Even as he walked out the door, Scotty knew Preston hadn’t been happy with his decision.
Still, Scotty thought maybe it was smart to leave. Having time to think about what occurred between them was probably a good thing for both of them. He was taking a chance Preston would turn tail and run, but Scotty thought that might happen anyway.
He made the choice to bypass barging into Preston’s office and instead walked down the hall to his own door. He had a lot of work to do, accounting and investigative. He didn’t need the distraction of Preston telling him to get lost. If that was what Preston intended to say.
He entered his office and clicked the door closed. First he dumped the heavy file on a nearby chair and then went to his desk to set down his coffee and breakfast. He gazed briefly at the pastry. He’d have to run five miles on the treadmill in penance for it.
Scotty always worked better with music, so next he punched the ON button of the stereo. His usual heavy-metal station had been replaced by classical music blaring over the airwaves. And the volume had been lowered. He grinned and changed the channel.
Not so fast, Pres.
He turned the volume up and smiled at the pounding music. Now he could work properly.
Scotty went back to his desk and started his computer. There next to his keyboard was a green apple. For a moment, he simply stared at it. His throat clogged, knowing very well it came from Preston. The gesture, though a bit autocratic, touched him to his soul.
Get a grip, Scotty. It’s just an apple, not a ring.
A couple of hours later a loud knock sounded at his door.
“Yeah, come in.”
The door opened and Preston stood there dressed in a perfectly tailored charcoal suit, crisp white shirt, and a pale-blue tie. He made Scotty’s mouth water.
“Sorry, is the music bothering you?” Scotty asked.
Preston stepped into the office. “Well, actually, yes. But that’s not what I came in here for.”
Scotty swallowed and offered a hesitant smile. “Oh? What’s up? A case?”
“No.” Preston closed the door and leaned against it. “I wondered if you’d like to come over tonight for dinner.”
His heartbeat raced at that. For just the tiniest second Scotty had feared he was about to get the brush-off. Relief flowed through him.
“You gonna cook for me again?” He couldn’t believe how appealing the idea actually was.
“Someone has to make sure you have something healthy to eat.”
Scotty’s cheeks heated with his blush. “Uh, yeah, thanks for the apple.” He grinned. “It went well with the pastry.”
Preston’s lips curved in a small smile. “I’ll bet. Anyway, you’re welcome. Say about seven o’clock. Plan to stay over.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to blurt out that maybe they should talk about this. About them. About the fact Preston wasn’t supposed to like men but had been all over Scotty last night. He really wanted to know where Preston intended to take this. But he didn’t miss the guarded expression on the other man’s face. He had a feeling if he insisted on talking about it right now Preston really would give him the brush-off.
“Sounds great,” Scotty said.
Preston nodded. “Good. And…do me a favor, okay?”
“Sure.”
“Don’t mention anything about this to anyone, all right?”
It took a great deal of effort to manage, but Scotty didn’t let the disappointment show. Or at least he was pretty sure he didn’t. But it nearly choked him. He regretted agreeing to dinner and staying over. He didn’t like hiding who he was.
“Scott?” Preston frowned.
He opened his mouth to say the words, oh forget it, when he caught the naked vulnerability in Preston’s eyes. This was new for him. He was still completely unsure of himself. There was no need for Scotty to be a jerk about it.
Scotty smiled easily. “No problem. See you later.”
* * * *
Preston took the salad bowl out of the cabinet and set it on the counter next to the romaine. He glanced at the clock on the microwave for the fifth time. It was already fifteen minutes past seven and no sign of Scott.
He prided himself on being punctual. Unfortunately, Scott did not appear to have the same habits. Inhaling deeply, Preston tried to squash his annoyance. He was simply anxious because he just didn’t know what the hell he was doing.
Last evening and night he’d had sex with Scott. A lot of sex. And it had been amazing. He could no longer pretend he didn’t want Scott. He definitely did.
But what the hell did it all mean? Did it mean he was gay? Hell, Preston didn’t know. He s
upposed wanting another guy was the definition of being gay. Except he’d been married and had never had sex with another guy before Scott.
Preston tore off leaves of the romaine and tossed them in the bowl. His glance went once more to the clock and he cursed. Twenty minutes late.
Then a horrible thought occurred to him. What if Scott had changed his mind? What if he was being stood up? Scott could be with some other guy laughing at stupid Preston right now.
Or maybe Scott had been in an accident on the way over? He should have given him a ride. Scott had never been a great driver.
His stomach now twisted in knots, Preston wondered if he should check his cell phone to see if Scott had called.
The doorbell rang, and he closed his eyes in ridiculous relief. He set down the romaine and went to answer his front door.
“You’re late,” he growled when he opened the door to Scott standing there looking far too sexy. He’d changed into faded jeans and a tight white T-shirt. His jaw was covered in stubble. Preston’s cock, which had already been half-erect thinking of Scott, now rose full to press against his slacks.
Scott grinned unrepentantly and pushed Preston aside to come in. “Yeah, sorry. You know how unpredictable traffic can be.” He held an overnight bag in one hand and a navy suit in the other. “Where can I put this stuff?”
“Come with me.” Preston closed and locked the door and headed down the hall to his bedroom. He knew without looking that Scott followed. His mind had shifted from dinner to getting Scott naked. Stopping just inside the doorway of his bedroom, he said, “You can set your bag down anywhere. And hang your suit in the closet.”
He watched Scott cross the room to the closet, his gaze glued to the man’s ass. His mouth watered.
“What are we having?” Scott asked, reaching into the closet to hang his suit.
“Having?”
Scott turned and gave him a quizzical smile. “For dinner.”
“Oh.” Preston stared at Scott’s lips. Maybe if he didn’t kiss Scott it would mean he wasn’t really gay. It had been a while since he’d had sex, so maybe that was what was feeding this strange frenzied need to fuck Scott.