Knowing it could be a while before he even spoke to Stuart, Malcolm ended the call with Will and let himself into the apartment. He breathed in deeply as the now-familiar vibe of a space he’d started to think of as home fell over him.
As always, the aroma of spices hung in the air, cinnamon the most prevalent today followed by another, earthier note that Malcolm guessed was saffron. While most of the studio was as neat as a pin with everything in its usual place, Stuart hadn’t made the bed that morning, and the sheets and comforter lay askew. That made it easy for Malcolm to spot something very out of place and drew his eye immediately to a streak of scarlet peeking out from under the pillows.
Frowning, Malcolm hung his bag on the hook by the door. He crossed the room, his gaze on the color glowing hot and stark against the cooler blues and whites surrounding it. He extended a hand as he got closer, but Malcolm stopped once he’d reached the bed, his fingers hovering over what he now saw was a loop of ribbon, as if the thing might be dangerous.
Whatever that is, you know it’s not yours.
Heart in his throat, Malcolm slowly sat on the mattress. Grasping the loop with two fingers, he pulled, unaware he’d started holding his breath until it left him in a whoosh as a slip of fabric was revealed.
The panties were so…delicate. The satin was trimmed with lace and the ribbon that had caught Malcolm’s eye was one of a pair of garters, the kind he knew could be attached to stockings. Malcolm recognized them because his ex, Liz, had worn a similar kind of garment on several occasions. Malcolm could picture her now, unhooking the garters with nimble fingers, her smile coy as she peeled the stockings off. Seeing Liz like that had piqued Malcolm’s interest every time, and he’d found the sex they’d shared on those occasions deeply pleasurable.
I’m sure the woman who wears those panties makes Stuart feel good, too.
Malcolm clenched his eyes shut, his stomach twisting so tight it hurt. “No,” he murmured to himself. “That can’t be right.”
Something was off. Stuart had always been upfront about his sexuality. He was a gay man, both out and proud, and he’d told Malcolm he preferred men. Except…that wasn’t all he’d said. Stuart had also said that he’d found his ex-wife attractive. That maybe he was closer to bi, despite his preference for men. That he wasn’t entirely gay, just like Malcolm wasn’t entirely straight.
No big deal, right? So maybe Stuart enjoyed being with women as much as he liked being with men. That would mean he’d been lying to Malcolm about that preference from the very beginning, however. And maybe that wasn’t all Stuart had lied about. Maybe he’d been lying about his feelings for Malcolm, too.
Malcolm’s sinuses burned as the thought crashed through his head. Stuart had lied to him before. And Malcolm knew what he was looking at—what else could explain women’s underwear tucked under the pillow he’d slept on just the night before? They belonged to someone. And what if Stuart loved her?
Before he truly knew he was moving, Malcolm was across the room and out of the door, slamming it closed behind him as he made for the stairs. He’d gotten two blocks east before his phone chimed in his pocket and when he forced himself to stop walking, his heart was pounding so hard his head spun.
Malcolm didn’t need to check his messages to guess there was a new one from Stuart. Just like he knew he couldn’t walk away, no matter how much he wanted to. Malcolm had walked away from Stuart once before and only ended up hurting them both, and god-fucking-damnit, he wanted an explanation. Needed it. Stuart owed him that much. If that meant knowing Stuart really had been lying to Malcolm all along? Then Malcolm would also know that all the fucking feelings he’d been trying so hard to hide for the past several weeks had just been a big waste of time.
Abruptly, his vision blurred. Great. Nothing like falling apart in broad daylight in the middle of the sidewalk.
Movements rough, Malcolm scrubbed at his eyes, then swore when he realized he’d left his bag behind in the rush to get out. Gaze on the ground, he forced one foot in front of the other and made his way back. And while it seemed like an eternity passed and everything he’d thought he’d known was changed, Malcolm found Stuart’s studio as he’d left it, silent and still. No longer a place where Malcolm felt he belonged.
Chest tight, he shut the door, then stared at the scrap of red satin from across the room until his vision went blurry again. God, he felt so stupid. Especially now with nothing left to do but stay here until Stuart got back so they could talk or argue or whatever the hell people did when their whole relationship toppled down around their heads.
The fight that had been building inside Malcolm slowly faded, leaving him hollow in a way he’d never known before. He didn’t bother wiping his eyes as he took his bag from the hook, then retreated to the window by the stove—as far away from the bed as he could get—and settled in to wait.
Chapter Eighteen
The odor of sawdust filled the air as Stuart jogged up the steps to his apartment. He’d enjoyed spending the day working in the shop, feeling the rough wood slowly turn silky smooth under his palm with repeated passing of progressively finer grades of sandpaper and, eventually, steel wool. The shelves he was finishing would look nice hanging on the wall beside the dresser. It would give Stuart some much-needed storage, too, especially since he planned to add a few baskets to corral smaller items. He’d have more space to offer Malcolm, who was spending more and more time at Stuart’s place, something Stuart couldn’t be happier about.
His lips curved in a smile as he thought about Malcolm. He’d stayed over last night, and Stuart had sent a text to Malcolm a short while ago to see if he would come over again after he was done meeting Will at Under tonight. Stuart had gotten used to sleeping with Malcolm’s long, lean body pressed against his and there was nothing he liked better than waking up slowly, exchanging lazy kisses with Malcolm and sometimes stroking each other off. Arousal pulsed through him as he remembered the taste of Malcolm on his tongue this morning before Malcolm had to hurry off to work. Stuart had remained in bed for a while, eventually bringing himself to another explosive orgasm.
Stuart slotted his key into the doorknob and twisted it, his head filled with memories of Malcolm as he stepped into his apartment. He was so lost in those thoughts that it wasn’t until he’d laced off his boots, removed them and walked toward the center of the studio that he spotted the very person he’d been thinking about perched on the deep windowsill beside the stove. That was somewhat odd, but Stuart was too pleased to see Malcolm to dwell on it.
“Hey!” Stuart grinned at the sight of Malcolm’s face. His smile fell a little when Malcolm didn’t return the greeting. “This is a nice surprise. What are you doing sitting over there?” He walked toward Malcolm, unease trickling through him as he took in Malcolm’s stricken expression. As he got closer, he saw that Malcolm’s eyes were red-rimmed.
“Malcolm?” Stuart slowed to a stop. Something was clearly very, very off and he let his messenger bag slip to the ground as he searched Malcolm’s face for an explanation. “Did something happen? What’s wrong?”
Malcolm swallowed and pointed at something behind Stuart. “That.” His voice was hoarse and Stuart swiveled his head to see what in the hell Malcolm was pointing at. Stuart went lightheaded when he saw the scrap of red fabric draped over the edge of the mattress, shockingly bright against the white sheets.
Oh, no. No. Fuck.
Stuart pressed a hand to his eyes as if that would somehow make the underwear disappear. He would have sworn that after he’d masturbated this morning, thinking about Malcolm, he’d tucked the panties and garter under his pillow before he’d left the apartment. It had been careless of him to do that rather than put them in the drawer, but he’d been running later than planned and he’d been in a hurry to get out the door. He’d never expected Malcolm to show up here before he got back.
Stuart dropped his hand and turned back to face Malcolm, who looked like someone had sucker-punched him. Stuart licked sud
denly dry lips, knowing how much hinged on what happened in the next few minutes. “Look, let’s talk about this, Malcolm. Okay?”
Malcolm nodded once, jerkily, still looking shell-shocked. Fuck. “That would be good,” he rasped. “I saw them under the pillow when I came in. I wasn’t snooping. I swear.”
“I didn’t think you were,” Stuart said quietly.
“To be honest, I left after I found them. I came back because I didn’t want to run out without having a conversation with you about it.”
“I’m glad you came back.” Stuart held a hand out to Malcolm, who still looked chalky-pale. “Can we sit on the bed and talk?”
Malcolm’s gaze darted to the bed again and he pressed his lips tightly together.
“Want me to put them away?” Stuart offered. Malcolm nodded.
Stuart’s eyes stung as he gathered up the scrap of fabric. It hurt to see how much they bothered Malcolm. Stuart had hoped Malcolm might be more open-minded about them, but it was clear the sight of them disgusted him. Fuck. This was exactly what Stuart had hoped to avoid. He should have eased Malcolm into the idea. Maybe then it wouldn’t have shocked him so much.
Once the lingerie was safely tucked back in the drawer, Stuart straightened the bedding and glanced at Malcolm again. Malcolm still stood by the stove, his arms tucked close to his body as if he were hugging himself. The sight of his expression and hunched posture sent another pang of regret through Stuart. He’d never hated his kink more. To think it bothered Malcolm so much. Maybe Stuart shouldn’t be surprised. Malcolm was new to so many things and something like a panty kink had to be pretty jarring. This might be more than he could handle. Men with far more sexual experience than Malcolm had been disgusted, so it was hardly a new reaction. It had never hurt Stuart quite so much before.
Chest tight and heart aching, Stuart took a seat on the bed and patted the space next to him. “Sit with me?”
Slowly, Malcolm approached and sat near the foot of the bed, almost out of arm’s reach. He didn’t look at Stuart but stared down at his hands instead.
“So, I know it probably came as a shock for you to find lingerie in my bed,” Stuart said slowly.
“You could say that.” Malcolm’s laugh was a hollow rasp.
“Um, I’ll try to explain why.”
“Okay.”
Stuart took a deep breath, trying to put it into words. Damn it. Why hadn’t he rehearsed this before? He’d tried but he really had no idea what to say.
“I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you, but I kept putting it off. This isn’t at all how I intended for you to find out.” He didn’t have a choice now. He had to find a way to explain it to Malcolm or risk losing him.
Even so, he might lose Malcolm anyway. Stuart’s heart felt like it might crack in two.
“Right.” Malcolm’s expression had gone blank and very distant and he was hugging himself again. He kept looking at the door like he was tempted to bolt.
Panic rose in Stuart, the sour taste of fear in his throat as he imagined Malcolm leaving and never coming back.
“This is… It’s something that I need,” Stuart continued.
“You need to have sex with a woman?” Malcolm swallowed. “I thought we were on the same page about monogamy and… I just wish I’d known that was something you wanted. I wouldn’t have… I wouldn’t have fallen in love with you if I’d known you wanted to be with other people. Do I know her? Do you love her? There’s no one I see the way I see you and I can’t imagine feeling that way about anyone else. If you feel that way about her, I…” Malcolm looked like he was about to be sick.
Bewildered, Stuart stared at him blankly. “Sex with a woman?” Stuart frowned, trying to put together the pieces in his head. “Oh…oh, shit.” His words came out on a shaky exhale as it finally sank in.
Of course, that was the conclusion Malcolm had leapt to, but it couldn’t be further from the truth.
“No! Malcolm, I didn’t cheat on you. You’ve got this all wrong. The lingerie doesn’t belong to anyone else. I swear. I haven’t had sex with anyone, man or woman, since before we met. And I’m certainly not in love with anyone but you. You have to believe that.”
“Then why is there women’s lingerie in your bed?” Malcolm’s brow furrowed. “I want to believe there’s some other logical explanation for this, but I can’t think of any.” He clearly seemed like he wanted to believe Stuart. That was something.
Stuart rubbed at his chest. Why was it so hard to breathe?
“They…the underwear…” Stuart’s throat was so tight he could barely squeeze the words out. “They belong to… To me.”
“To you?”
Stuart’s heart beat double-time and, suddenly, his head swam. He had to put it between his knees to steady himself and, even then, he could feel the blood whooshing in his ears as he struggled to pull air in.
“Whoa, Stuart. Take a deep breath.” Malcolm no longer sounded distant and Stuart felt a warm hand settle on his mid-back, rubbing softly. “Don’t want you passing out on me.”
“Just don’t leave,” he said tightly.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Give me a sec.” The words came out strained, but Malcolm’s reassurance had helped. The vice around Stuart’s chest slowly loosened, allowing him to pull in a few badly needed breaths.
“Take as long as you need,” Malcolm said soothingly.
The gentle, steady pressure of Malcolm’s hand on his back made Stuart’s heart rate finally slow and, after a minute, he sat up straight. When he turned to look at Malcolm, he saw nothing but concern in his gaze.
“You okay?” Malcolm asked.
No. He nodded yes.
“The underwear belongs to you?” Malcolm prompted gently.
Stuart nodded again. “Yeah.” He sounded hoarse. “I was trying to explain that. I…I’m into lingerie. Not seeing a woman in them but, uh, wearing them myself.” The last few words came out in a rush.
“Oh.” Malcolm’s startled expression made Stuart realize he’d never considered that possibility. “Oh,” he repeated as the words seemed to settle into his brain. “They’re yours, meaning you dress in them?”
“Yes.” Stuart licked his lips. “I find them…erotic to wear.”
“Okay.” A frown creased Malcolm’s forehead. “Tell me more. If you can?”
“I will.” Stuart took another deep breath. “Or at least, I’ll do my best to explain it.”
Malcolm sat back. Stuart reached out and grasped his hand and when Malcolm curled his fingers around Stuart’s, he squeezed lightly. The touch sent a pulse of relief through Stuart, lifting the weight that had been sitting on his chest.
“It’s going to take me a minute to pull my thoughts together,” he admitted.
“It’s okay.” Malcolm gave him a small, reassuring smile. “I’ll cancel my plans tonight with Will and the guys. So you and I can talk without being interrupted.”
“You don’t mind?”
“No. This is more important. I’m sure he won’t mind rescheduling.”
“That would be great.” Profound relief swept through Stuart as Malcolm pulled his phone out of his pocket. He sent a message and Stuart leaned back against the wall, his focus on taking deep breaths to calm his racing heart and gather his thoughts.
He could do this. Malcolm knew and he hadn’t run away. His reaction earlier had been horror at the idea of Stuart cheating on him, not disgust at the idea of Stuart’s kink. He had to hold on to that.
When Malcolm’s phone landed on the bed beside him, Stuart looked up. “All set?”
“Yes. We have as long to talk as you need.”
“Thanks.” Stuart licked his lips, trying to figure out what to say next. “Um, before I start, do you have any questions?”
“A few. Maybe.”
“Go ahead, ask.”
“How did you discover this…fetish?” An uncertain expression flickered across Malcolm’s face. “Is that the right word for i
t?”
“I think it’s more a kink than a fetish,” Stuart replied. “A true fetish is something that’s psychologically necessary for someone to orgasm, I think. I looked it up years ago and it didn’t quite fit for me. Obviously, I can get off without wearing women’s underwear. I mean, you’ve seen that.”
Malcolm nodded.
“I enjoy sex without them. But wearing them definitely enhances things for me. It’s more satisfying.”
“Okay,” Malcolm said slowly. “I can sort of understand that.”
“It’s a bit like when I lick that spot on your thigh and you respond really, really strongly,” Stuart offered.
The tips of Malcolm’s ears went pink and he ducked his head. “I didn’t realize you’d noticed that.”
“I noticed.” Stuart smiled a little. They were talking about this rationally. Like adults. And Malcolm hadn’t run off in disgust. Those were good signs, right? “Wearing lingerie is like that sensitive spot on your thigh. I mean, the sex is already good. The underwear just sharpens everything I’m already feeling.”
“And is this something you’ve done with—with a lot of partners?”
Stuart let out a sad huff of laughter. “No. It’s been a secret. My ex-wife didn’t just find gay porn in that box. She also found my lingerie.”
“Oh.” Malcolm’s eyes widened.
“Yeah. Becky was horrified. I’ve shared my kink with a few other partners since then, thinking they might be open to it…”
Malcolm’s expression shifted to one of disbelief. “They weren’t?”
“No. I’ve actually never been with anyone who really understands and accepts it.”
Malcolm reached for Stuart’s hand again. “I’d like to understand it.”
“That means a lot to me.” Stuart looked down at their clasped fingers for a moment. “Do you think it’s something you might be able to accept eventually? I mean, even if it’s not something you want to share with me, do you think you’d at least be okay with knowing it was something I’d do on my own?”
Surprise crossed Malcolm’s face. “Would that be enough for you?”
Straight Up Page 26