by E M Lindsey
“No one you thought you might want to sleep with,” Rowan finished for him.
James nodded, biting his lip, even as he leaned into the press of Rowan’s hands. “Never got that far.”
Rowan gently rubbed his thumbs over the apples of James’ cheeks, keeping their gazes locked. His eyes were dark and soft, sleepy but a little intense, and James wanted him so badly right then. “You should make a list. Or a chart. Things you definitely want to try, things you’re curious about, things that scare you. We can work our way through them, see where we can get before I leave.”
James startled at the last thing Rowan said, pulling back without really meaning to. He instantly missed the contact, but his pride wouldn’t let him reach for the other man again. “You’re leaving?”
Rowan bit his lip, his face drawn and a little sad. “I… there’s some legislation that’s likely going to pass here, protecting people like Sam from having their children taken away simply because they’re disabled. When that’s done, I’m…I’ve been considering moving on. Heading to places that need me.”
“That’s,” James said, and faltered. It was noble, and it was kind, and really fucking annoying that there was a glaring expiration date on this. Even if Rowan had specifically promised him he didn’t have time for anything other than a physical relationship. “I get it.”
“It’s why I can’t commit,” Rowan told him. He reached out again, letting his fingers press to the side of James’ neck where his pulse was thrumming. “Not to anything except moments.”
“I still want this,” James said after a beat. It wasn’t a lie— he did. “If you’re still interested.”
“I am,” Rowan told him. “And I meant it about the list. It’ll give us some goals, somewhere to focus, something to keep you grounded. If you know what’s coming—so to speak— you’ll know where your limits are.”
James rolled his eyes at the bad pun, then laughed when Rowan did. “Fine. I think I know where to start. Believe me when I say I’ve given this some thought.”
Rowan chuckled again. “I do believe you.”
Chapter Six
Rowan was walking to his car trying to gather his thoughts when his phone went off in his pocket. The buzzing startled him out of his stress spiral, and he pulled it out, his face falling into an involuntary smile when he saw James’ name on the screen. This was the first time he’d ever let himself get truly involved with anyone near his clients—it was something he’d actively avoided, but something about James drew him in in ways he hadn’t anticipated.
Everything in him told him to run, told him to end this before he got in too deep. James insisted he just wanted to get it over with, and Rowan couldn’t do anything but volunteer himself. He hadn’t said it aloud, but when James confessed to having been a virgin in every single area of sex, Rowan found himself determined to ease the other man into the deep and intense pleasures the body could offer. He’d make him sing, and beg, and cry with ecstasy. He’d give James the experience that most people never got, because James had been through enough.
It was dangerous only because Rowan could see himself falling for the other man. There was something about James that was more than physical attraction, even if that was the first thing that had caught Rowan’s eye. He had worked his whole life not to fall under the spell of love, and he knew the risks he was taking now.
James: I have my list ready. When are you free?
* * *
Rowan: Today. I just got out of court, and I need to talk to my assistant for a bit, but after that I’m good.
* * *
James: I’m at the auto shop for another hour and a half, but I don’t have any clients at Works tonight. Do you want to pick me up?
* * *
Rowan: A wine and dine first?
* * *
James: I would never presume.
* * *
Rowan: Always presume. You deserve more than a dirty fuck in the back of a bar alley. Send me the address and I’ll be there.
Rowan dialed Jeremy’s desk before he could see what James wrote back, determined not to let himself get distracted until this was finished. Sam’s case was going to fall in his favor— there was already plenty of documented evidence that his case had been mishandled right from the moment he took custody of Maisy, but Rowan couldn’t drop the ball now.
Sam deserved his full attention.
“How’d it go?” Jeremy asked.
“I need you to call in a couple of favors. I’ll text you a list, but today didn’t go as well as I’d hoped, and I think we might need a new judge,” Rowan told him. “We’ve got Hargrove right now and I’ve dealt with him before. He has ties to a couple of the DCS agents, and he’s covered up for them before.”
Jeremy laughed. “I think you still have some sway with Garcia.”
“Whatever you can get me, I’ll take it. How’d it go with the Rosens?” He slid into the front seat of his car and felt himself hold his breath a little. He’d already gotten confirmation that CPS would be returning custody of their baby, but he didn’t want them getting locked into signing anything. There was a small chance the agent would refuse to hand over physical custody of the child without the parents agreeing to absurd terms like parenting classes they’d already taken, or a confidentiality agreement which prevented them from speaking about it on social media.
All of those were illegal, and it would mean Rowan would have to cancel on James to handle it.
“They’re thrilled to have their daughter back in their arms,” Jeremy said. “I might have cried a little.”
Rowan chuckled. “Happens to the best of us. No bullshit with the agent?”
“Apart from her very cleverly using words that didn’t apply blame to the agency, no,” Jeremy said. “Are you heading back to the office tonight?”
“If I’m going to do any early morning filing, I think I’m going to stay in town,” Rowan told him. “Text me if anything comes up.”
“I hope you find a few minutes to at least unwind,” Jeremy cautioned.
Rowan rolled his eyes and refused to admit that he did, in fact, have plans to do some stress relief. “We’ll talk soon.” He ended the call, then braved a glance through his texts. Luckily it was nothing more than an address, so it allowed Rowan to pop by the motel off the twenty-five and grab a room.
Not the best place he’d ever stayed. His money could afford him something much nicer, but with any luck, he wouldn’t be spending a lot of time there at all. He had a long day ahead of him trying to get Sam’s case before a less biased judge, but he was going to let himself have this.
He hadn’t indulged in years. He was experienced with sex. Rowan spent most of his formative years in college undiscerning and not very picky about who he took to bed. Men, women, gender non-conforming—if they were attractive and they connected, he was happy. But his desires had faded into a dull hum in the background of his life after opening up his practice. He hadn’t taken a vacation in years, hadn’t dedicated more than two days to visiting his mom over the holidays, and couldn’t remember the last time he’d celebrated a birthday.
His last hook-up had been over eight months before, in a freak snowstorm where he was the last customer trapped in a café. The cute barista with bright blue pigtails had been flirting with him all night. When she offered to pass the time with some strip poker, he wasn’t interested in saying no.
They huddled together after as the storm finally passed, and he appreciated when she hadn’t even hinted about wanting his number. Her body had been soft and pliant that night, curved in all the right places, wet and willing as he pushed inside of her. He’d made her come twice, gasping his name, and had gotten a soft kiss the next morning before he took off with a fresh cup of coffee and a pain au chocolat to get him through.
He’d never gone back to the café again, and maybe it was cowardice, or maybe he knew they’d been everything they could be to each other already. But it was just a show of his pattern. He didn’t f
uck the same person more than once, and he never let himself get close.
Until now.
Now, he was making plans. Now, he was going to drag this out as long as fate would allow. Now, he was attached. It was the worst place to be, and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to care.
Rowan paused in the shitty little motel bathroom and used his fingers and warm water to get himself cleaned out. He wasn’t sure what James would have on his list, but Rowan was versatile in many ways, and it made his cock rise half-mast at the thought of letting James explore his body and get used to touching.
Rowan hadn’t been fingered in years, and even knowing James would be clumsy and nervous, he wanted it. He wanted the other man to get off on Rowan’s body. Fuck, he wanted it so much.
Dressing in jeans and a t-shirt, Rowan grabbed his keys, locked up his stuff, then let the GPS guide him to the shop. James’ garage looked like it had once been an old barn from the early 1800s. It looked out of place and rural, even away from the city. There were the bodies of a few vintage cars that looked like they were slowly being consumed by nature off in the distance, and the field around them grew wild and unkempt.
Rowan loved it. It was so very much James—at least what little he knew of the guy. It made his heart swell uncomfortably as he walked through the door and saw the other man leaning over an old, square computer monitor, tapping away at an order form. When the bell sounded, James looked up, then gave Rowan a sheepish smile.
“I do plan to clean up before we…uh…go out to eat and talk,” he said.
Rowan laughed, waiving him off. “I’m all for the wining and dining, but I thought maybe ordering in would be more comfortable?”
James looked instantly relieved. “Yeah, no, that sounds… yes. I’d like that.”
Rowan gave him a soft grin and fished his phone out of his pocket. “Do you have any preferences? I can order while you’re finishing up.”
James just waved him off with a quick, “I don’t really care,” so Rowan browsed the area and found some Italian with decent reviews. Rowan went to ask what he wanted, but James was on the phone with a customer, so he took the liberty of ordering a small feast. Whatever they didn’t eat, he could save, or share with the guys at the shop Rowan knew were probably always hungry.
James went into the back to finish locking up, then met Rowan out front and hesitated at the side of his car. “Seriously, I’m pretty gross. You probably don’t want all this in your ride.”
Rowan stopped reaching for the door, walking around the car, and he reached for James slowly. When the other man didn’t flinch or pull away, Rowan let his hands rest on either side of his neck. He was filthy from working on cars all day. He was surrounded by an almost acrid, stinging scent of oil and motor fluid, but something about it was more than enticing. Rowan’s thumbs caressed through the grime just under James’ ears, and he smiled at him.
“I like it,” Rowan said, and when James opened his mouth to argue, Rowan stepped even closer. His suit pressed to James’ front, and their mouths were less than an inch apart. “I’m not lying to you. I like it. We haven’t talked about your list, but is kissing…”
James interrupted his flow of words and gave him an answer by closing the distance between them. It felt very much like a first kiss—like the first kiss he’d shared with Miranda Beck in the fifth grade. James’ mouth was closed, his lips thinned and hard. His entire body was stiff, but he was pushing against Rowan’s mouth with determination.
Rowan couldn’t help his smile as his hands moved to cup James’ cheeks, thumbs caressing the corners of his lips, urging them to soften. After a beat, James relaxed, mouth parting gently, allowing Rowan to dip his tongue inside. James’ moan reverberated through Rowan’s chest, causing him to lose his head for a second as he tugged James closer and deepened the kiss.
He came back to himself a second later, pulling away with soft, careful pecks so James wouldn’t feel like Rowan was rejecting him. “Sorry,” Rowan breathed. “You’re hard to resist.”
James’ cheeks were pink, and his flailing hands finally landed on Rowan’s hips, holding him just on the side of too tight. “Was that awful?”
“No,” Rowan told him plainly. “It was awkward, and I could sense every ounce of your nerves, but it was exactly what I expected. And I enjoyed it.”
James rolled his eyes, slowly releasing his grip on Rowan, and he leaned back against the car. “We should go. I want…I want to talk, and stuff. And I don’t want to do that while I’m covered in grease.”
Rowan laughed, and he leaned in halfway, letting James close the distance for a gentle, final kiss. Rowan sighed into it, finally letting his hands fall to his sides when it was over. “Fair enough. Our food should be done soon, and then we can get on to the better part of the night.”
* * *
James felt some measure of relief after they were on the road. The kiss had been somewhat expected—they hadn’t had a formal discussion, but James wasn’t an idiot. He could see the way Rowan was looking at him in the shop and he knew something was going to happen between them before they got back to his place. Having Rowan take the lead like that was exactly what he needed to relax. He was no longer on a knife’s edge of anticipation about when it would happen, and what the first move would be.
He also no longer doubted Rowan wanted him. Part of him had been caught up in the idea that this was some sort of pity-fuck. Rowan had seen him at a huge low in the parking lot, had rescued him from some asshole. He’d seen James in pain with his legs off, and now knew the deepest, darkest piece of him he’d been hiding away for years.
And he still couldn’t reason out why a rich, attractive, decent person like Rowan would actually want him. James wasn’t a bad person—he was attractive enough, and he liked to think he was on the right side of the moral spectrum—but he didn’t have a lot to offer. He was a greasy mechanic that did occasional tattoos on the side, with no real goals for the future except go on living.
It wasn’t exactly a selling point—even if this was just a string of hook-ups.
Still, he couldn’t deny the raw desire in Rowan’s eyes, and he felt it when Rowan had stepped in close and pressed his growing hardness against James’ thigh. James could feel the echo of it as they drove to the little Italian place a few blocks from his house, and he tried to discretely adjust himself as he eased out of Rowan’s car to follow him in.
The smell of cooking garlic was enough to distract James for the moment. His stomach rumbled, and the single sandwich he’d managed to shove down earlier that afternoon had long-since digested. He gave Rowan a sheepish smile as he passed through the open door, then came to a stop when he saw Basil and his sister waiting in line.
Basil’s head was down, tapping on his phone—probably sexting Derek considering those two couldn’t keep their hands off each other since getting together—but Amaranth spotted him and waved him over. James flushed—his signing was getting better since starting classes, but he hated not being fluent. He glanced back at Rowan, and realized introductions were inevitable.
‘Hi,’ he signed to her, and he watched as she nudged her brother.
Basil looked up with an irritated glower which softened when he realized James was there. ‘Hi,’ he signed. ‘How are you?’
‘Good,’ James replied. He looked back at Rowan who was wearing a gentle grin. ‘This is my friend,’ he signed, struggling to remember the sign order. ‘Rowan.’
Rowan extended his hand to shake both of theirs, then he began to sign with a fluidity James was not expecting. It was too fast for him to pick up much, though he was fairly sure he saw Rowan spell out Sam’s name, and then James’.
Basil and Amaranth looked delighted, and James took a step back since he had no hope of understanding. He didn’t mind. He knew Basil was struggling at the shop, and it was out of love for Derek alone that kept him around and socializing. Everyone was trying to catch up, but James knew what it had to mean to have someone with Rowan’s skill
level there.
Basil seemed to catch on after a beat, and he gave James a sheepish smile. ‘Sorry. Deaf speed,’ he spelled the last two words. ‘Too fast?’
James waved him off. ‘It’s fine. It’s nice. Someday me,’ he replied.
Basil chuckled, but Amaranth nudged him when the person behind the counter had their order. ‘Sorry, long day. Big orders.’
James clapped him on the shoulder. ‘See you soon?’
Basil touched his tattoo and nodded. ‘More work Friday.’
Rowan said his own goodbyes, promising to stop into the flower shop—or at least, that’s what James figured he was saying— then the pair slipped out the door. He and Rowan took a step closer to the counter, and he felt a warm hand at his waist. “They’re nice.”
James laughed. “Yeah. His sister’s pretty bad ass, and Derek really loves Basil.”
Rowan handed his card to the person behind the register, then turned back to James. “Is he the reason you’re all taking ASL?”
James shook his head. “No. Well, partly? He was the one who gave us a kick in the ass to get started. But Tony and Kat’s baby—they own the shop—she was born deaf, so it’s for her too.”
Rowan’s smile softened even more.
“What?” James asked, squirming under Rowan’s gaze.
Rowan chuckled. “It’s nice. She’ll have a community at home, access to language. That’s a big deal.”
James shuffled his feet, not sure how to feel. “I mean, that’s just what you do, right? When your kid is deaf?”
Rowan huffed. “You’d be surprised. Hell, I can’t tell you how many disability lawyers don’t know even the alphabet in sign. People don’t want to look outside their own bubbles, don’t want to make the effort.”
“The bar is set so fucking low,” James muttered, which earned a loud laugh from Rowan, and a soft kiss against his temple. “Am I wrong?”