by Mia Downing
“Yeah, my mom had that candle fetish thing, remember? When she sold them to everyone? Your mom had a party.”
Erik laughed, and the sound went straight to Gavin’s gut, making it clench in a good way. “I think I have a box from that fetish, too.”
“So? You game?”
Erik brushed off his hands and closed the pizza box lid. He gave Gavin a long guarded look, not at all like Erik, usually open and carefree. Gavin knew he’d hurt Erik. But Gavin was trapped in that dark place, and Erik was gentle and kind. Erik deserved better. So much more.
Erik finally sighed. “You really want to paint me.”
“No. I need to paint you.”
Erik rose and gestured down the hall, looking like he was certain this was a bad idea. “Then let’s go.”
Chapter Two
“Beautiful,” Gavin murmured under his breath as he dipped his brush for the zillionth time. “Don’t move.”
If Gavin said that one more time, Erik was going to jump from the bed and fuck him. Right there, on the floor. He’d never been this turned on before and, man, was it killing him to sit perfectly still.
Erik looked at the easel. Gavin’s face was obscured from his view. Gavin had posed him on the twin bed in the art room, with ivory satin sheets wrinkled here and there along his torso. The candles flickered, bathing him in the most erotic, romantic light ever.
He felt like a sex god, lounging there, under Gavin’s scrutiny. Not because he was toned from hours of running and working out. Something changed in Gavin during a painting session. The grief and sadness faded from his eyes, replaced by excitement and a smoldering heat that Erik would call lust if he dared. Erik felt revered and wanted under that heated gaze.
Erik shifted the sheet just a little to keep his erection hidden. It wasn’t the first time he’d sported wood during a sitting, and Gavin had never seemed to notice until that last time. Still, he didn’t want to ruin anything they had going so he slid the sheet up a little further, creating a wrinkle in just the right place.
“What?” Gavin peered around the easel. “No. Put the sheet back. I’m trying to block in a little.”
“Dude, I like it here.”
“But I don’t.” Gavin set the paint tray down, along with the brush, and took determined strides to the bed. He yanked the sheet down, and his breath caught when his gaze hit Erik’s erection. “Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh.” Heat flushed over Erik’s body. He looked anywhere but into Gavin’s eyes. “You mind if I put it back?”
“Yes, I mind. I want you like this.” Gavin put the sheet in its original location, his hand brushing Erik’s cock.
Erik bit back a moan. Torture. Pure torture, that innocent touch. Erik breathed deep to calm his pounding heart as Gavin walked back to the canvas and picked up his brush.
Erik stared, unable to believe Gavin had just done that. “Gavin. You pushed me away before. Now you want me…like this…in your bed, so you can paint me.”
“You’ve been hard before.”
Yes, but this was the first time his hard-on had been acknowledged. “Why?”
“This is what I need,” he said, his voice quiet. “Just shut up and let me paint. Let me forget.”
Erik sighed and found the original pose, focusing his gaze on Gavin’s bare feet. Some people found feet gross, and usually, he did. But Gavin’s feet turned him on. Long, with nice toes, the arch gentle. Would that arch be sensitive to his mouth?
“What are you thinking,” Gavin asked, his voice a little higher pitched, which was interesting, because he had quite a deep voice.
“Just looking at your feet.”
“My feet make you hard?” Erik looked up and Gavin glanced around the easel, his brown eyes dark in the shadows cast by the flickering light. He wet his lips as his gaze lingered on Erik’s groin.
Shit, Gavin just had to do that with his lips. Pre-cum seeped from Erik’s cock, dampening the sheet, and he wanted nothing more than for Gavin to come lick it up. But maybe the light was too dim to see how fucking aroused he was.
“No.” Erik wanted to shift the sheet again, to hide how excited this was making him. “Maybe.”
“Tell me why.”
Erik closed his eyes. He loved this sort of talk but not with Gavin. “You don’t want to hear this. I know you don’t.”
“Maybe I do. Try me.”
“You know I want you,” Erik warned. He didn’t want this to go where Gavin would be uncomfortable.
Gavin froze in mid-stroke with his brush. “Yes.”
“And you still want to hear this.”
“Yes.”
Here goes nothing. “Your feet are fucking sexy. I want to kiss them, and I don’t do feet. But I want to see how sensitive your arch is and how the dips of your ankle take a lapping tongue.”
Gavin might have gulped as his brush stroked quickly, his hand visible at times as he let the brush come off the canvas a second before he dove back. “More. Tell me more.”
“More?”
“I’m curious.” Gavin peeked again, his brow furrowed. “You’re making me hot, and I like it. It’s taking my mind off my shitty life. So tell me more.”
Erik knew he was a glutton for punishment, but this bordered on masochism. He swallowed, staring at those feet again. Jesus. “I’d start at your feet, then nibble my way up your calves. You have great calves, you know. The dent where the muscles separate, strong from hours of swimming. I’d kiss the scar you got from knee surgery the summer after we graduated, then slide my tongue up your inner thighs, long and lean, with those corded muscles.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“Finish.”
Erik wanted to finish. Leap from the bed, grab Gavin, kiss him hard, and haul him back to those silky sheets to finish. A flash of flesh intertwined on cream satin, a tanned Gavin driving his cock into Erik’s ass…His breathing escalated, matching the ferocious pounding of his heart. He ached to reach down and stroke his dick, to ease the tension, but he didn’t dare.
Instead, he swallowed what little spit left in his mouth and whispered, “You don’t want to hear what I want to do to you.”
“Yes, I do.” Gavin leaned out but focused on his brush. “I’ve thought of nothing but that kiss since…I was wrong. I want this. I want you.”
It had to be the paint fumes. Or the candles. Or Gavin had just finally gone crazy. Erik stared. Gavin didn’t look crazy. He looked…hot. Bothered. And though it was hard to tell from this angle, Erik would bet his paycheck that Gavin was hard in those red shorts of his.
Erik met Gavin’s gaze. “You want me?”
“Yeah. Surprised?”
“Uh, yeah. You could paint me ten shades of surprised.” Erik sat up slowly, pulling the sheet to his lap because it was just too surreal. “Don’t fuck up our friendship. I don’t want you that badly.”
“I’m not fucking up anything.” Gavin set the paintbrush down with his tray and closed the distance in a few long strides. His gaze darted from Erik’s face down his body, then back again, as if contemplating what to do. Gavin sat next to him, his thighs inches from Erik’s. He smelled of soap and a hint of coconut since he’d taken a quick shower before painting.
Erik gulped and leaned to the side, supporting himself with a trembling hand on the bed. He met Gavin’s gaze, pupils wide with desire, the dark brown irises glazed with lust and maybe a little confusion. Yeah, Erik knew how he felt. Not about wanting Gavin. He’d wanted Gavin since the beginning of time, it seemed. But why now? Why would Gavin finally want him, too?
“Erik. Kiss me,” Gavin whispered, almost a plea.
Knowing this was probably the worst thing he could do for their friendship, Erik leaned in and let his lips touch Gavin’s. He sighed against those firm lips and gentled the pressure of his mouth, slanting over Gavin’s, hesitant to explore the lines he’d memorized, embedded in his brain over the years. So good. He savored the sensation a moment more and started to draw away.
But Gavin surprised him. A firm hand slid to the back of Erik’s head, and Gavin tugged him closer, his tongue touching the seam of Erik’s mouth, gently prying. Erik moaned and opened. Gavin’s tongue twined with his, and electricity shocked through Erik’s veins, sizzling his blood to a boil.
The kiss changed, and Gavin kissed him like a starved man, his lips biting, tongue darting and stroking, tangling with his.
Erik shuddered. How many nights had he dreamed of this, Gavin painting him then coming to him, unable to hold back the passion, taking him here, on this bed?
Tentatively, Erik reached out and touched Gavin’s chest. God, he was hard, his chest sculpted, with just the lightest dusting of dark hair. Erik kneaded Gavin’s wide shoulders, the muscles tight under his palms.
Bolder, Erik roamed lower, down the dip from his ribs to the abs. This is why men and women alike drooled over Gavin, these gentle valleys in his deeply tanned skin. But Erik wanted the whole package. The body and the brain. Gavin’s brain worked in a different way than his, in colors and patterns, where his worked in computer code. Maybe they had patterns in common, but Gavin’s were beautiful.
Gavin slid his lips along Erik’s jaw, sliding his tongue along the crease between bone and neck. Then he pulled away to meet Erik’s gaze. So much heat in one look. Heat and a plea, one Erik didn’t understand.
“I can’t make love to you,” Gavin said.
“I don’t think you’re ready for that, anyway. We’ll take it slow.”
“No?” Gavin’s laugh was low, bitter. “You don’t know what I did when I was high and what I discovered after—” He sucked in a breath. “I’m not as innocent as you think I am.”
Erik rolled his eyes. Gavin had slept with all of the cheerleaders in high school. Probably all of the unmarried teachers, too. “You’re Gavin. No one thinks you’re innocent.”
“I’ve had sex with men.” Gavin traced his fingers along Erik’s jaw, his thumb brushing his lower lip, the shocks of pleasure streaking straight to Erik’s groin. “I freaked about kissing you, but not because you’re a guy. I freaked because I’d never kissed someone I felt something for before, and it was too intense.”
Erik closed his eyes, as if that action would keep his pounding heart from fleeing his body. Maybe there was hope of him loving Gavin, after all.
“I’m not normal, Erik. I don’t deserve you.”
Erik laughed. Oh boy. Normal was an iffy subject. “Neither am I.”
“No, you’re normal. You’re a normal, handsome gay man.” Gavin shifted, his shoulders rolling. “I’m…not.”
A premonition crept over Erik’s skin, leaving a chill in its wake. “What do you like, then?”
“I like kink.”
“Kink.” But Erik breathed harder, his muscles rock-hard as he waited.
“I like…whips. Chains, gags, masks, dildoes, your dick strapped up in a leather harness so you can’t come until I tell you.” Gavin’s gaze turned to one of pure, lustful torture. “You know how many nights I’ve jerked off to fantasies of you on your knees, blindfolded, sucking me off? That’s what I mean by kink.”
“Jesus.” Erik had done enough research into BDSM to know that kink wasn’t his cup of tea. He’d worked on a role play computer game he created about a community of vampires into leather and whips—hardcore S/m. In fact, his male character had looked a lot like Gavin. Who would have thought his creation would come to life, wanting to do the same to him, minus the blood?
“That’s why I pushed you away. It’s one thing to be gay. But I don’t want to just make love to you. I want you tied down and begging. I want to paint you that way, then come to you in the candlelight and drip hot wax down your stomach, over your cock, and listen to you moan.”
Erik wanted to moan. He just wasn’t so sure about the tied up and wax dripping parts. “Would you hurt me?”
“No, never. Well, the pain would border on pleasure, but I wouldn’t hurt you. I just…it’s a control thing.”
A control thing. Erik swallowed, wishing his mouth weren’t so dry. He got it, though.
“If I’m in control, I’m sober. Sex before—stoned, drunk—wasn’t controlled. I did things…” Gavin closed his eyes, as if holding back those memories. “Before Angela’s death, the booze, drugs, and sex were an escape from my fucking parents. But after, I needed something, something I could control. I learned how to submit first, to let another take control, and it was awesome.”
Erik didn’t want to picture Gavin tied up and blindfolded. This BDSM shit was supposed to be scary, which didn’t explain why his cock had gone from rigid to diamond hard, ready to cut through granite. “You want control of me?”
“Yes. I’m not as experienced as some, but I won’t abuse you or the power you’ll give me. I know how to give a man the sweetest pleasure, but in exchange, you give me control. I can make you last a long, long time while you beg to come.”
Erik shivered. No man had given him sweet pleasure. He’d done a few short-term relationships, nothing deep, the sex usually concentric around getting off fast. But a long time, him begging… “And you? What about your pleasure?”
“Oh, I get tons of pleasure. And after I’ve made you come a few times, I’ll come, too, and it will be ecstasy.” Gavin practically glowed at the thought, licking his lips in anticipation.
Erik felt high, his senses swirling. Desire ratcheted up a notch at Gavin’s words, his throbbing erection wanting him to do anything as long as Gavin touched him. But a part of him was afraid. Gavin was asking for total surrender.
Gavin stood, his demeanor changing in a heartbeat, back to the artist. “Let me paint you with a blindfold. I won’t touch you.”
“Can’t we—”
“No, I can’t make love to you, not tonight. Let me paint you the way I want to paint you, Erik. We both know that’s safe.”
Erik closed his eyes, turned on, terrified, excited. So close to having Gavin to himself, and the man wanted to blindfold and paint him. Gavin was always looking out for him, for his needs, protecting him. Didn’t he get that Erik was strong? Erik would stand up to a bull elephant to have Gavin. Fuck, Erik would stand up to Gavin’s parents to have him. He’d shit himself in the process, but he’d do it.
Erik wasn’t sure it was his voice that rasped, “yes,” until Gavin rose and went to a drawer in a cabinet across the room and removed a black cloth, one he caressed a moment before returning to Erik’s side.
Gavin’s hands were gentle as they secured the blindfold, sinking Erik into darkness. “Lay back, in the original position.”
Erik did, and Gavin arranged the sheet so his erection was free, straining toward the man Erik wanted so badly. His senses were on hyper-drive, everything so much…more. Gavin’s coconut scent was intoxicating as he drew near again, fixing the blindfold—he always smelled of that oil in summer, even after a shower. A candle hissed and sputtered, and somewhere in the house, the air kicked on.
Erik shuddered in a totally good way. What would it feel like to have that wax on his skin, like Gavin wanted? “Doesn’t wax burn?”
Gavin’s laugh was low, mixed with the sound of his brush pounding paint on canvas. “It’s on the edge of pain, hot and liquid, tantalizing your nerve endings until it cools and hardens.”
Erik swallowed. Gavin’s voice was the best aphrodisiac. “What else would you do to me?”
“I’d tie you up, first. Leather restraints, wrists and ankles. You’d be beautiful in leather. You would be unable to move, waiting for my every touch, my kiss, my mouth sucking. You’d beg, Erik.”
A whole new flush warmed Erik’s skin. “Who did you do this with?” It freaked Erik out a bit, to think of Gavin one way, only to find out exactly how far he’d travelled from the person Erik thought he knew. BDSM was a long way from his safe world. “Where did you learn about this?”
“In college, and after. I got into a crowd that liked…different sorts of parties. I watched. I learned, but I wasn’t ready. And
after Angela’s death, I went there. That community doesn’t like drugs or booze. They think the mind should be touched by endorphins only—pleasure. The best high.” The brush dabbed again. “Have you ever…”
“No. I’ve done just what you’d expect.” Hell, he hadn’t even thought about being restrained until Gavin brought it up. The thought of his wrists bound and him helpless under his lover… He inhaled deeply, his fingers clenching that sheet. Fuck his fear. If Gavin were his lover, he’d try. He trusted Gavin enough, loved him enough. Wanted him enough.
Erik whispered, “I’d try it for you.”
“What?” Gavin’s breathing hitched a notch.
“I would try it for you. Give me one night to try.” The thought of loving Gavin, body and soul, for one night…Erik’s entire being ached. He’d waited forever. He’d be damned if he’d lose out because he was a pussy.