A Simple Truth

by Jamie Craig

  “Oh, God, I think I’d gain fifty pounds if I ate there every night. I just never know when to stop. I tried recreating the halibut once, but it wasn’t the same.”

  “You just need a good exercise regimen to burn off the calories. Me and the chef there are pretty close. Maybe I could try to get the halibut recipe for you.”

  Charlie shuffled sideways, following the line, but he never took his eyes off Dean. “The only way I’d let you do something like that for me would be if you let me cook it for you.” His mouth seemed to have developed a mind of its own. “Seriously. You get the recipe, and we’ll make it a real date. My place. I’ll even fix the dessert of your choice.”

  “Hell, if that’s the deal, I’ll get the triple chocolate mousse recipe, too. I guess before I agree to come over to your house, I should know a bit more about you. What you do, your favorite movie, if you’d let me return the favor sometime, that sort of thing.”

  Charlie ticked his responses off on his fingers. “Banking. I do commercial loans. Unforgiven. Because nobody is as cool as Clint. And if returning the favor means putting myself into your hands, you bet I’d let you.” His boldness shocked even him, but it felt too exhilarating to stop. “I actually really can cook. I took some lessons a few years ago, and it turns out I’m pretty good.”

  “Awesome, I always like to find fellow foodies. Somebody who understands what a joy perfectly blackened halibut can be.” They finally reached the counter, and Dean pulled a billfold out of his pocket. “I’ll get this.”

  Charlie felt like a smiling fool as they both ordered their drinks. He wanted to go find Bryce and drag him back, point at the gorgeous guy he’d just arranged a date with, and shout, “Look! I did it!” That, of course, would be going too far, and Bryce would rib him about having worried about it so much, but still, that desire to share his achievement never dissipated, even after they got their coffees and carried them over to a corner table.

  Chapter 3

  His kitchen smelled like Bourbon Street. Sipping at his water, Charlie lifted the lid on the frying pan one more time, and a fresh wave of Cajun spices rolled out with the steam. Almost done. And it looked practically perfect. The recipe Dean had given him had been simple in execution, complicated only in its ingredients and timing. Charlie was determined to get it exactly right.

  Of course, he’d never completely believed Dean would actually email him with the promised recipes and the request for his address. Their conversation at the bookstore had been fun, but afterward, breaking it down with Bryce over dinner, Charlie had found reason after reason why Dean wouldn’t follow through. He was too young. Charlie was too old. Dean had wanted immediate gratification, not a prolonged wait for a date that might never occur. Charlie had had a whole list of them.

  Bryce had told him he was full of shit and Dean would come through because a guy didn’t spend forty-five minutes just talking over coffee if he wasn’t genuinely interested. And Bryce had been right. Bryce had been right about all of it.

  Which was why Bryce was going to help him make sure this date went off without a hitch.

  The doorbell rang just as he turned the flame off on the fish. Wiping his hands on a towel, Charlie emerged from the kitchen, his shirt sticking to his shoulders from the heat. He made a note to himself to wear something lighter the night of the real date. Something he wouldn’t sweat like a pig in.

  “I hope that recipe worked out, because I am starving,” Bryce greeted, as soon as Charlie opened the door. “Like, I could eat my own arm, starving.”

  “It looks like it all worked out.” Charlie waved him toward the dining room. “Go sit, and I’ll dish it up.”

  He didn’t wait for an answer. He was in too much of a hurry to see if the food tasted as good as it smelled.

  “I’m planning on serving this with a white wine,” he said when he carried the two plates into the dining room. Bryce hadn’t actually sat down yet. He seemed too busy taking in the tablecloth, the candles, and the four empty wineglasses at each setting. “But I couldn’t decide which one would go best so I figured we’d do a tasting, if that’s okay.”

  “I’m always okay with more alcohol. But you know I pretty much don’t know anything about wine, right?” Bryce finally sat, leaning close to the table to inhale the spicy aroma from the fish. “I have a feeling that I’m going to insist you make this every time I come over.”

  Charlie’s stomach rumbled, but he couldn’t sit down yet. Darting back to the kitchen, he grabbed the four bottles of wine and the corkscrew, and brought them back into the living room.

  “You keep giving me good advice like you have been, and you can have whatever you want.” He peeled the foil off the first bottle and began twisting the screw into the cork. “Does the table look okay? The food kind of demands an elegant setting, I think. But I don’t want to make it look like I’m trying too hard.”

  “Table looks great. I don’t think it looks like you’re trying too hard.” He watched Charlie tip the bottle and partially fill the glass. “So what exactly are we doing with the wine? You just want to know which one tastes the best with the fish?”

  “Yep, that’s all you have to do. All I want to know is what combination makes you wish you had two mouths.”

  Bryce’s eyes widened and a strange expression crossed his face. He recovered his composure quickly and nodded. “The combination that makes me wish I had two mouths. Right. No problem.” He sipped from his glass. “I don’t think I’ve ever known anybody else to do a dress rehearsal for a date.”

  Charlie sat down and picked up his fork, shooting Bryce a grin. “I’m pretty sure that’s not a compliment, but honestly, I don’t care. I need this rehearsal. I haven’t had a date in over a decade, and never one with a guy. If I don’t practice, I’ll mess it up. I know I will.”

  “How do you think you’ll mess it up? So I can help you avoid the possible problems.”

  “There are so many ways it could go wrong, I don’t even know where to start.” The fish practically melted under the edge of his fork, and his stomach growled. “What do you think he’s going to expect for a first date?”

  Bryce took a bite and appreciation shown in his eyes. “Besides an amazing dinner? This is really, really good.”

  As soon as he got the first morsel on his tongue, Charlie had to agree. Both dug into their meal with fresh gusto, and it wasn’t until his portion of fish was almost gone that Charlie realized he hadn’t even touched the wine yet.

  “Oh, damn it.” Picking up his glass, he took a sip, but he needed to pour out the others if he was going to get any kind of true test on which was best. As he worked at the other corks, he watched Bryce sample the risotto. “Maybe if the food turns out this good, I won’t have to worry about small talk during dinner. I’ll just have to worry about talking after dinner.”

  “You shouldn’t have to worry. You’re an interesting guy and he’s obviously in to you.” Bryce lifted his glass to his lips and nearly drained its contents. “Plus, the wine will help. Alcohol always helps.”

  “I could put a movie in.” He refilled Bryce’s glass with the second selection. “Then we can just sit together on the couch and watch it. We’re good at sitting.”

  “Sitting on the couch is good, but only if you put in a movie that neither of you really want to watch.” He cut into the fish and followed the bite with another long sip of wine. “Subtitled films are right out.”

  “What’s the point of…oh, I get it.”

  His cheeks flushed at thoughts of what he and Dean might be doing if they weren’t paying attention to the movie. Dean had an amazing body, and he was naturally affectionate. Even during coffee, he’d kept casually touching Charlie’s hand or arm or foot. Without an audience around, he’d probably take it further, to places Charlie had been jerking off to the past two weeks.

  When he realized Bryce was watching him over the rim of his glass, he shivered. For a split second, it was Bryce who had him pinned to the couch, and Bryce who
se hand slithered between their bodies to find his aching cock. He gulped at his wine and nearly spilled it down his shirtfront.

  “You look a bit flustered.” Bryce smiled knowingly. “Maybe you should just forego the movie and put on some nice music. That’ll be less distracting for both of you.”

  “Not if he wants to dance.” Because then dancing would lead to full-frontal touching, which would lead to hands on asses, which would probably lead to coming in his pants like a teenager because he hadn’t touched another man’s body in fifteen years.

  Bryce finished his second glass of wine and arched his brow. “But dancing is often better than just sitting on the couch. So with the music, you’re a winner either way.”

  Charlie opened the third bottle. “You are bound and determined to get me laid, no matter what happens on this date, aren’t you?”

  “I’m bound and determined to get you laid? Who thought up this date? You. Who is going to have an extremely intimate and romantic dinner in the convenience of his own home? You. I think despite all your protests to the contrary, you’re really looking forward to the prospect of getting laid.”

  When Bryce painted it like that it, it looked very bad. “I only wanted it here because I figured I could control it better.” His friend’s unwavering gaze compelled him into further confession. “Do I hope something happens? Yeah, I guess I do. Am I terrified about it anyway? Oh, hell yeah. I haven’t even kissed another guy in years, Bryce. Something tells me Dean is going to want a little bit more than that.”

  “So what if he does?” Bryce tilted the newly open bottle, pouring the wine right to the top of his glass. “I know you said you don’t just want meaningless sex. And I even get why you wouldn’t want a string of flings. But you can’t tell me you don’t want somebody to touch you, that you’re not hungry for that contact.”

  “Oh, I want it. I haven’t stopped thinking about it since I decided to tell you the truth.”

  “What are you scared of? That you won’t do it right?”

  “Honestly?” He drained his glass. It was too warm in the house. He needed to remember to lower the thermostat the day of the date. “That it’ll be over before it really gets a chance to start because I’m too excited.”

  “Having seen Dean, I don’t blame you for being worried about it.” Bryce licked his lips, and his face seemed a little flushed. “You could find a way to take the edge off.”

  “You mean jerking off beforehand?” Charlie shook his head. “I’m already doing that.”

  Bryce opened and closed his mouth, then returned to his wine. The food on both plates was utterly forgotten, and Bryce’s eyes had a new shine in them. “You’ve been jerking off for the past two weeks to prepare for your date?”

  “No. I’ve been jerking off ever since I decided I was going to come clean with you.”

  Bryce turned in his chair to face Charlie fully, tucking his foot under his knee to fit more comfortably. Charlie frowned, but he didn’t move, or stop Bryce from cupping the back of his neck. His fingers almost felt cool against Charlie’s flushed skin. Bryce leaned forward, his mouth coming within an inch of Charlie’s before he paused.

  “You should stop me.”

  “Because of Dean.”

  “No, he’s not your boyfriend yet. But if I kiss you, I’m probably going to want to kiss you again. And again.”

  His throat tightened. “You’ve drunk your wine too fast.”

  “Yeah, I probably did. Doesn’t change what I said.”

  “You’re my best friend.” Somehow, that felt like it should make a difference.

  “Maybe that’s why I want to kiss you senseless right now. Maybe it’s that and the wine.”

  Charlie smelled it. And the Cajun spices from the fish. And the cologne Bryce preferred, the one that always made Charlie think of their hikes when he couldn’t stop staring at Bryce’s ass. They combined into a cocktail that made his mouth water, and he had to swallow before he did something stupid.

  He just said the something stupid instead.

  “Half the time when I jerk off, it’s not because I’m thinking of Dean,” he confessed.

  Bryce caught his breath just a second before he pressed his mouth to Charlie’s. It didn’t occur to him not to part his lips when he felt the tip of Bryce’s tongue flickering along the seam. As soon as he did, Bryce invaded his mouth, and Charlie’s tongue popped with the taste of heady spices and dry wine.

  It had been a long time since he’d kissed anyone, let alone a guy. Sarah had liked kissing, and he’d been able to feign interest well enough to keep her satisfied, but this, this already was different. For one thing, stubble. The soft, prickly stubble he’d imagined running over each and every inch of his naked body. Stubble surrounding firm, determined lips that knew exactly what they wanted, exactly what they were going to take. It scraped over Charlie’s skin, but instead of jolting him out of the moment, it shaved away the doubt.

  Nothing had ever felt so good. Or so right. So hot and wet and hungry, all at the same time.

  Charlie moaned in the back of his throat. Tentatively, his hand came up to skim over Bryce’s chest, knuckles grazing upward to the open collar and bare skin. Its heat surprised him. Everything about this night was surprising him.

  It felt like the kiss never ended. They both paused occasionally for air, but never for more than one or two seconds. Bryce wasn’t just hungry, he was insatiable. But the level of his desire only matched Charlie’s, and every time Bryce deepened the caress to explore more of his mouth, Charlie moaned in encouragement.

  “Can we move?” Bryce asked against Charlie’s lips.

  The query jolted him from the moment, the reminder that they were still sitting at the dining room table, and there was still food on their plates that had yet to be eaten, and triple chocolate mousse waited in the refrigerator. Charlie swallowed and ran his tongue over his swollen lower lip, his skin heating further when Bryce tracked the simple motion from beginning to end.

  “Why are we doing this?”

  “Because it feels good. Because it’s fun. Because I’ve been having fantasies, too.” Bryce punctuated each explanation with a long kiss, designed to make his head spin, Charlie was sure of it.

  It did feel good. And fun wasn’t the half of it. And if Bryce had been having fantasies—

  Charlie cut off considering the ramifications of that by being the one to fuse their mouths together this time. Good. Fun. And if he couldn’t trust having fun with Bryce, then how the hell did he think he’d ever be able to kiss a stranger?

  Fisting the front of Bryce’s shirt, Charlie scooted his chair back without breaking the seal of their kiss. He hauled Bryce upward, jerking him closer so their bodies slammed together. He nearly yelped when he felt Bryce’s erection jab into his thigh, but he swallowed any hint of surprise in the moan of satisfaction when Bryce wrapped his arms around Charlie and immediately palmed his ass.

  Charlie wasn’t sure who prompted it, but soon they were both walking, feet almost tangling as Bryce pushed him against the wall. He rotated his hips, grinding his cock against Charlie’s thigh until Charlie responded in kind. Bryce moaned, his fingers tightening, his tongue becoming more demanding each time it swept into Charlie’s mouth.

  In his fantasies, he had never seen Bryce as quite so assertive. Or himself as so helpless. But each pin of his body into the wall at his back only made him ache more, each hungry stroke and sweep and pinch along his flesh only made him throb. Charlie clutched at Bryce in desperation, needing the other man’s strength to hold him up, and gasped when he felt hot fingertips along the bare skin of his back. He hadn’t even felt Bryce slip inside his shirt.

  Bryce smiled against his mouth before murmuring, “At this rate, we’re never going to get out of the dining room.”

  “You’re the one who touched me first.” Charlie forced himself away from Bryce’s lips, but that was as much as he could manage, not with Bryce looking at him like he was triple chocolate mousse on the
menu. “I don’t…I can’t even think when you kiss me like that.”

  “That’s fair. Because I can’t think when I kiss you like that, either.”

  Bryce took Charlie’s hand and pulled him away from the wall. He hadn’t realized just how weak his legs felt until he was no longer leaning against the wall with Bryce’s solid weight keeping him in place. Bryce led him toward the living room, but barely made it to the side of the couch before seeking out Charlie’s mouth once again.

  Without breaking contact with those delectable lips, Charlie tugged until Bryce fell on top of him in the corner of the sofa. He didn’t want to be distracted by how dizzy each graze of the man’s tongue made him. He wanted Bryce’s weight firmly against his, the reminder of his full arousal, the rub of cock against cock that made his balls ache. It had been too many years since he’d experienced such direct contact, and never like this, never as hot and heady as Bryce made him feel. Hunger could do that to a guy, he supposed. Or driving need. Because feeling good and having fun didn’t even begin to touch the emotions roiling through him now.

  Bryce broke the kiss just long enough to paw at Charlie’s shirt, pulling the buttons free and pushing it down his shoulders. He smoothed his palms over Charlie’s bare chest, his fingertips skimming over both nipples until his skin was hard. He gripped Bryce’s shirt and pulled him into another kiss, working the buttons free with trembling fingers while he probed Bryce’s mouth with his tongue. Soon skin was pressed against skin, the rough blanket of hair on Bryce’s chest scraping against Charlie’s sensitive body.

  He shivered. Not because he was cold. Because a piece that had been missing since before Sarah had clicked back into place.

  Though Bryce protested, Charlie moved away from his mouth, licking along his stubbled jaw until every single one of his taste buds exploded. On a whim, he sank his teeth into the tight skin at Bryce’s neck, and felt more than heard the answering groan.

  They both fumbled with zippers, but Bryce opened Charlie’s first and pushed past the material to grip his shaft. Charlie stiffened, shock and pleasure rolling down his spine. Bryce’s grip was firm, his fingers a little rough, a little biting. Sarah had never held him like this, and Bryce’s fist was large enough to cover most of his length. When he stroked, Charlie jerked, like a hundred electrical currents were flowing through his body at once.