“You think it’s safe to go out? What if someone’s watching?”
“I don’t think anyone has identified you yet, so there’s no reason for anyone to be watching your building. And even though they know who I am, as long as I stay away from my usual hangouts we should be OK.”
“I should change.” Aidan was still wearing his dress shirt and suit pants, though it seemed like days had passed since that morning, when he’d dressed to impress Mme. Abboud.
“I think you look fine just like that,” Liam said.
“If you say so,” Aidan said, smiling. “I haven’t had a chance to eat much Tunisian food yet. I didn’t want to eat in a restaurant by myself, so I’ve been cooking here.”
“In my line of work, you spend a lot of time on your own,” Liam said, as he put his hand on Aidan’s back and they began to walk toward the door. “So you get accustomed to eating restaurant meals by yourself.” He laughed. “Especially if you’re as lousy a cook as I am. It’ll be a nice change to have a handsome face across the table from me.”
Aidan felt a warm glow rise up from the pit of his stomach, and was embarrassed. Liam thought he was handsome! In all the years he and Blake had been together, Blake had hardly complimented him—he told Aidan once he’d get too big an ego if Blake was always saying nice things.
Liam slipped off his leather vest and Aidan’s heart skipped a beat at that beautiful torso, a work of art Michelangelo would have been proud of. Liam was darker than the David, which Aidan had ogled during his Italian travels, but so much warmer. It was a shame when Liam pulled a lightweight white cotton shirt from his duffle and put it on.
“Tell me about your line of work,” Aidan said, as they walked down the staircase. “How did you get into it?”
At the building’s front door, Liam paused, out of habit, Aidan guessed, and surveyed the street before they stepped outside. The day’s heat had begun to burn off, and a light breeze swept down the nearly empty street. Liam said, “I think I told you I was a Navy SEAL. I ran up against a little rule called ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.’”
“I’ve heard of it. Did someone ask?”
“I told. I came off a mission in Iraq, where I did a pretty stupid thing—I ran in front of a bank of enemy artillery to rescue a buddy who’d been shot. I realized I had been totally fearless, because I didn’t care if I lived or died, and I knew there wasn’t anybody back in the States who cared either.”
“I doubt that. You just told me this guy was your buddy. I’m sure there were lots of guys in your platoon who’d care what happened to you.” Aidan didn’t touch the question of who Liam had back in the States, if anyone. That was something to save for a more intimate discussion.
A husband and wife hurried past them, the wife cradling a child against her chest, and Liam waited until they’d passed to continue speaking. “Yes, I had friends,” he said. “Guys who’d do for me what I did for that buddy. But I couldn’t help feeling that they might not have, if they’d really known me.”
That was deep, and Aidan didn’t know how to respond. He’d been out of the closet since he was in his early twenties, and the academic environment had always been welcoming to him. He’d never had to worry about losing a job because he was gay, or getting kicked out of an apartment. He’d been frightened, once in a while, about walking down dark streets near gay bars, fearing that almost mythical pickup truck full of redneck gay bashers with baseball bats, but that was about it.
They arrived at the restaurant. “Not my favorite,” Liam said, opening the door, “but the food’s good and it’s close to your place.”
The restaurant was dim, lit only by candles in glass globes, and the dark-skinned young waitress led them to a table in the corner. Liam sat facing the door.
The first thing he ordered was a bottle of the red wine they had shared on their first meeting. “Tunisian cooking is a blend of European, Asian and desert cuisine,” Liam said. “I have to warn you, it’s very spicy.” He smiled. “There’s an old wives tale that says a husband can judge his wife's affections by the amount of hot peppers she uses when preparing his food. If the food becomes bland then his wife no longer loves him.”
Aidan liked heat on his tongue, and he was relishing the chance to spice things up a bit. “Blake liked his food bland, and when I was mad at him I’d sneak a couple of grinds of pepper into dinner. Usually gave him indigestion.”
Liam laughed. “You’re always surprising me.”
“So what do you recommend? I’ve been dying to eat some couscous. I took a cooking class back home and learned how to use this special kind of double boiler.”
Liam looked interested, so Aidan continued. “You start with semolina, in the top half. You boil your meat and vegetables in the lower half. The top half has holes in the bottom, and the steam rises to cook the grain.”
Liam laughed. “I’ve lived in this country three years, and you know more about the food than I do.”
Aidan blushed. “Blake liked to watch TV and sleep when he wasn’t at work, so I had a lot of time on my hands. You should have seen our kitchen—stacked with every kind of appliance imaginable.”
“And you left it all behind?”
Aidan nodded. “Blake paid for everything. And I needed to travel light. I didn’t know where I was going to end up.”
The waitress brought the bottle of red wine and two glasses, and poured for them. Liam lifted his in a toast. “To ending up here,” he said, smiling. “Together.”
Aidan felt an electric current rise up from his groin and run through his body, as he clinked his glass against Liam’s. “So, we still have to pick what to eat.”
Liam spoke rapidly in Arabic to the waitress, and she nodded several times. When she walked away, he said, “We’re starting with chorba. A peppery soup. We’ll see if you really like your food hot.”
“I may surprise you.” Aidan shifted in his seat, and his leg brushed up against Liam’s. The touch of his bare skin against Liam’s sent another heat wave through his body. It felt so good to have a man’s skin against his own.
In the candlelight he could see Liam smile back, and the bodyguard maintained a pressure of his leg against Aidan’s. He remembered their embrace on Saturday night, the feeling of Liam’s body against his. The longing for that touch again nearly knocked him back against his chair.
“After the soup, a veal and olive tagine,” Liam said, smiling. “You probably had one of those in your kitchen in Philadelphia, didn’t you?”
Aidan knew that a tagine was the name for both a conical-lidded pot, and the stew that was cooked in it. “Yes, I did.”
“After that, a couscous with beef and lamb.” Liam increased the pressure of his leg against Aidan’s, more waves of heat rising from the friction of skin against skin. Liam moved his leg up and down against Aidan’s, and he felt the pressure of his dick stiffening against his shorts. He worried there’d be a wet spot on the cloth by the time dinner was over.
Liam pulled his leg away, and Aidan wanted to cry out to have it back. “After we’ve eaten, we’ll discuss dessert,” Liam said. He leaned back in his chair, and Aidan felt the big man’s bare foot exploring his calf, then his thigh. His mouth dropped open and he caught his breath. Liam’s toes grazed Aidan’s crotch, and he reached under the table and grasped Liam’s ankle. Liam raised his eyebrows and smiled.
It had been so long since Aidan had flirted with another man, since he’d been out on a date with a good-looking man who found him attractive too. The wine only contributed to the heady nature of the evening.
When the waitress brought the soup, Liam pulled back his foot and sat up. As promised, it was spicy. It made Aidan’s eyes water, but he loved it. “You were telling me about what caused you to leave the Navy,” he said as they ate.
“I didn’t think you’d let that slide.” Liam sighed. “Looking back on it now, I see I was immature and foolish. Depressed, too, and probably suffering from shell shock. But I had this idea that until I fac
ed the truth about myself, I was going to keep undervaluing my life, and putting myself in danger.”
“Sounds pretty mature to me.”
“I went to see my buddy in sick bay,” Liam said. “The one I rescued. We were sitting around chewing the fat, and he mentioned his girlfriend back home. I said something like, ‘Yeah, I wish I had somebody back home. A nice guy waiting for me.’ I waited to see if he’d say anything, but he didn’t.”
He finished the last of his soup and pushed the bowl away from him. “The next day, another one of the guys in my unit asked me if I was gay.” He laughed. “You know, I wasn’t scared at all running in front of that artillery, but I was scared as shit right then. I said that I was, and asked if it was a problem for him.”
Aidan finished his soup, and he reached over and squeezed Liam’s hand. Liam’s knuckles were rough, his fingers strong and thick. Aidan wondered if the bodyguard’s dick would be as beefy as his hands. “What did he say?”
“He said no. But within a couple of days every guy in the platoon knew, and it was only a matter of time before my CO called me in.” He pursed his lips together and shrugged. “He asked me if it was true, and I said yes.”
“I thought he wasn’t allowed to ask?”
“He said it was disrupting the platoon, some guys minding, some guys not.”
The waitress brought the tagine and laid the plates out before them. Liam inhaled deeply. “Smells good, huh?”
“Yes. But finish the story, Liam.”
“Not much more to it. The CO thought it would be best for me to muster out, and I did. He made sure I got an honorable discharge, and I washed up here. End of story.”
Aidan was sure there was more to it than that, but he let it go. His leg stretched out, pressing against Liam’s, and they both smiled at each other. They ate the delicious tagine, the spiciness bringing more tears to his eyes.
“You think Blake is home missing you right now?” Liam asked.
“Don’t know,” Aidan said. “He may be missing the things I did for him—the food, the laundry, and so on. But right now he’s probably just happy to have the house to himself.”
“Are you going back to him when we’re finished?”
“Nope. Not a chance.”
“You seem pretty sure about that.”
“I am. Sometimes it takes something traumatic to make you wake up and look around.” Aidan smiled. “Fortunately nobody took a machine gun to me. But Blake kicking me out of the house made me realize I’d been wasting my time there. I deserve the chance to be loved, and I wasn’t getting what I needed from Blake. At the same time, I don’t think I’d ever have had the courage to pick up and walk out on my own. So he did me a favor.”
“I think you’d be surprised at what you have the courage to do,” Liam said.
They ate their way through the tagine, and then the couscous. Their feet tangled under the table, Aidan finding ways of connecting with Liam he’d never imagined. Toes climbed flesh, legs pressed against each other, hands traced the delicate bone structure of ankles. They drank a lot of wine to tame the heat of the food, and by the time they’d finished eating they were both a little tipsy.
“I usually hold my liquor better than this,” Liam said, stumbling against Aidan as they walked back to Aidan’s apartment. Aidan grabbed him around the waist to steady him. His hands slipped under Liam’s shirt to touch bare skin, smooth and warm. “It seems awful hard to walk.”
“If I make it hard for you, will you hold it against me?” Aidan asked.
Liam guffawed, and his laughter made Aidan smile, too. They bumped against each other a couple of times climbing the stairs to the apartment, every touch amping up the sexual tension between them. They had to be careful not to step on the dog, who’d taken up her customary place on the doorstep.
When they stepped inside, Liam maneuvered Aidan up against the wall and kissed him. Aidan wasn’t expecting it, but it didn’t take him long to kiss Liam back. With his lips closed, Aidan pressed his mouth against Liam’s, closing his eyes and inhaling through his nose. As the kiss continued, Aidan opened his mouth; Liam’s lips tasted of wine and pepper. He began nibbling at Liam’s bottom lip as he felt Liam sag against him.
He lifted Liam’s shirttails from his shorts and ran his hands around the big man’s waist, digging below his belt. Liam’s skin was so smooth, yet the texture was firm. Liam wrapped his arms around Aidan, pulling him close, nuzzling his head down to Aidan’s shoulder. Then Liam’s phone went off.
“I should have turned the damn thing off,” Liam whispered in Aidan’s ear. “Let it go.”
Aidan pulled back. “No, answer it. I’m not going anywhere. As long as you’re not, either, we can pick up where we left off.”
Liam smiled. While Aidan went to get the dog some water, Liam answered his phone. When he hung up, he said, “The girl who’s picking up your stuff is on her way over. I’m going down to open the door for her. After she’s finished...”
“After she’s finished, you’re turning off your phone.”
14 – A Night Together
Liam returned a few minutes later with a dark-eyed young woman with a short, punk haircut, carrying an empty backpack and a couple of flattened boxes. Aidan pulled his shirt back on and combed his mussed hair. He figured out what he’d need to take to El Jem and packed the rest away. Liam helped the girl carry everything down to her car, including Carlucci’s suitcase and attaché. When he returned, Aidan was standing by the French doors looking out at the night sky.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Liam asked, coming up behind him. He nuzzled the nape of Aidan’s neck, and Aidan arched his back against him, closing his eyes. Liam’s lips were moist and soft, dancing lightly on Aidan’s skin, and he wrapped his hands around Aidan’s body and pressed him close.
“The kind of night I always dreamed of,” Aidan said. Liam’s dick was already hard, pressing against Aidan’s ass, and one of Liam’s hands snaked its way under Aidan’s waistband and down his groin. Aidan shivered and took a deep breath.
“You’re a very sexy guy, you know that?” Liam asked. Aidan felt Liam’s short hair pressed against his ear; he inhaled the faint scent of Liam’s shampoo. With his eyes closed, his other senses were magnified. He heard a truck pass outside, the floor creak as Liam shifted his weight, the low hum of the refrigerator.
Liam’s hand stroked Aidan’s dick, and Aidan whimpered. He wasn’t about to be jerked off so quickly; he turned around to kiss Liam again. Liam’s lips were just as soft and moist against Aidan’s mouth as they’d been against his neck. He nibbled on Liam’s lower lip, felt the big man’s mouth open, his tongue dart out.
“You taste so good,” Aidan said. “I can’t wait to taste all of you.” He lifted his right leg to rug against Liam, and Liam reached down and grabbed it, pressing it against him. The movement pressed Aidan’s dick against his shorts, and from the cold wetness he could tell he’d already leaked precome.
Liam’s hand wandered down Aidan’s pants, to stroke his groin and tease at his pubic hair. “Oh, god,” Aidan whispered. He couldn’t believe that he was there, in that moment, his arms wrapped about this gorgeous man, ecstasy floating through his veins like blood.
Liam let go of Aidan’s leg and slid his hands under Aidan’s shirt, his thumbs rubbing gently against the bare skin of Aidan’s back. Because Liam was so much taller than Aidan, and a lot of his height was in his legs, his dick pressed against Aidan’s belly, while Aidan’s was against Liam’s thigh. “I think we’re both wearing too much clothing, don’t you?” Liam said, his breath so soft against Aidan’s cheek.
Liam stepped back, unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it off his shoulders. Aidan watched, his mouth open like a dog’s, as Liam undid the drawstring on his shorts, and let them drop to the ground, kicking them away with his sandals.
He stood there, wearing only a white jockstrap, the kind Aidan remembered wearing as a high school kid. They had been required for gym class at his subu
rban high school, and he’d been so embarrassed when he had to tell his mother he needed one. Just the thought of it had made his teenaged dick hard, and he worried that this desire made him a freak.
Aidan hated gym class, the way thinking about the rough cotton fabric against his tender dick made him hard, the constant fear that another boy would see his boner and know what turned him on. He’d asked Blake to wear a jockstrap once, but Blake had refused, telling Aidan he wasn’t there to fulfill Aidan’s adolescent fantasies.
But Liam did all that without even trying. He was so handsome, so sexy, so obviously into Aidan—if that big, stiff dick peeking out of the top of the jock strap was any indication. The fact that he reminded Aidan of his high school wet dreams was like the cherry on top of a decadent hot fudge sundae.
Liam stepped back a pace and began unbuttoning Aidan’s white shirt, slowly, staring deep into Aidan’s eyes as he did. It was sweet torture, and Aidan wanted to tear his own clothes off and roll around on the floor with Liam—but he knew it would be even better if he waited.
When the shirt hung loosely over Aidan’s shoulders, Liam pushed it off, so that it slid to the floor. Aidan had worn an undershirt so that he wouldn’t sweat through his dress shirt, and Liam slid his big, rough hands up under the cotton fabric. Then he leaned down to sniff Aidan’s arm pit, and inhaled deeply. “I love the smell of a man,” he growled, then dragged the T-shirt off over Aidan’s head.
He nestled his head under Aidan’s upraised right arm and flicked his tongue over his armpit. Aidan had never known that was such an erogenous zone for him. Liam licked and nibbled at the short dark hairs there, at the tender skin, and Aidan felt weak in the knees.
Liam supported him with one hand as he attacked Aidan’s other armpit. Aidan was short of breath by the time Liam was finished, his body aching for Liam’s touch. Liam backed off and kissed Aidan again, his mouth musky now, slick with Aidan’s sweat. Aidan felt like he was being eaten alive—and he loved it.
Three Wrong Turns in the Desert Page 8
