Better Red

by Tara Lain

  “Not worse, just different.” He grinned. “I’m glad the idea of going out with me seems fun and we don’t really have to give a fuck what other people think unless we want to.”

  “You’re right.” Red squared his shoulders. “People already stare at me. I won’t even know why they’re looking.” He laughed, but truthfully, he tended to care too much. At least they weren’t in Ever After.

  As Mark held the door, Red slid to the ground. The beep of the door lock might as well have said, “Showtime!”

  Mark said, “Want to hold my hand, or is that too much for a first time out?”

  Red wanted to ask Mark what he preferred, but kind of sadly, he knew his own answer. “Maybe I’ll be brave enough later.”

  Mark didn’t look too disappointed, so Red felt a little better as they walked into the Embers. Wow. He hadn’t settled down enough to realize that this was the nicest restaurant in three counties. He’d never even been there before. “You really splurged. I would have been happy with pizza.”

  “I know. Me too. But I want our first date to be memorable so we can both say, years from now, ‘Remember our first date when we went to the Embers?’”

  Double wow. Red’s steps faltered. It was that “years from now” part that got him right in the heart. With a breath, he slipped his hand into Mark’s.

  Mark didn’t even turn his head, but Red could see his smile from the side.

  In the reception area of the place, Mark released Red’s hand and walked up to the desk where a young guy was on the phone and a pretty woman was checking what must be the reservation book. Mark said, “I have a reservation for two at five thirty. Name is Woods.”

  She looked up and her eyes widened. Yep, that was the Woods effect on women. She flashed the pearlies. “Yes, Mr. Woods. We have your table ready. Darren will take you just as soon as he’s off the phone.”

  Mark nodded and stepped back to Red, but the woman’s eyes never left him. When Mark looked down, she seemed to notice Red for the first time. Her expression got—what? Quizzical? That was easy to understand. Why would this super macho-looking alpha male be hanging out with—whatever Red looked like?

  Just then, the guy on the phone, a really cute guy at that, looked up. His turn for a little wide-eye action, just proving both men and women drooled over Mark Woods. He spoke into the phone quickly, hung up, and walked toward them with his hands extended. “Welcome, welcome to the Embers.”

  The guy walked straight up to Red.

  A flicker from Mark made Red glance up in time to see the big crease pop in Mark’s forehead, and then a warm strong arm slipped around Red’s waist. If he hadn’t been so stunned, he’d have laughed.

  Host guy stopped dead like he’d slammed into a wall. Politely, he led them to a booth in a secluded corner of the restaurant. Did Mark ask for it?

  Host guy gave a little bow, cast a long look at Red, and said, “Have a wonderful dinner.” He turned and walked away.

  Red and Mark stared in each other’s eyes for exactly as long as Red figured it would take host guy to get out of earshot, and then he burst out laughing and Mark did the same. Red pressed a hand to his chest. “Oh my God, if ever there was an instant message from the universe.”

  Mark grabbed Red’s hand. “Yeah, and the message is: You’re amazing.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Dinner was amazing. Funny. The food in New York had been the best Red had ever had in his life, but the company was so stressful, he barely enjoyed it. This food might be a little better than Mom and Pop’s, but not much. Still, the company made every mouthful melt on Red’s tongue and sing in his stomach.

  Mark made real conversation, talking a little about his business but mostly about movies he liked, and then listened attentively while Red talked about his fave films. They shared a love of old action movies like the Die Hards, even the newer ones, and both admired some of Tarantino.

  Mark glanced up and the expression could be called sheepish. “Uh, how do you feel about RomCom?”

  “As in romantic comedy?” Was Mark about to make fun of him? “Well, I like it.”

  “Favorite?” Mark sipped the last of his iced tea. They’d agreed they didn’t much like wine, although Red failed to mention his affection for champagne, in case Mark tried to order some.

  “Have you ever seen the old one with Cher called Moonstruck?”

  Mark leaned forward. “Snap out’ve it!”

  For a second, Red stared at that handsome face until it sunk in that Mark had just recited a line from the movie. Red laughed. “Exactly. ‘He made me look away!’”

  They both laughed that time. Red waved his hands. “And I really enjoy Love, Actually because you get like five great love stories for the price of one.”

  Mark smiled softly. “So, you like love stories.” That was so not a question, and the look in his eyes melted all regions of Red’s anatomy—except for one notable area that definitely didn’t melt.

  “Uh, yes.”

  “Good.”

  The waiter came over wielding a couple small menus. “Can I tempt you with dessert?”

  Red was going to say no. Mark had spent enough money. But Mark said, “What do you have?”

  The guy handed Mark one of the menus. Mark pointed to something, then added, “And two spoons.”

  Red wanted to ask, but the expression on Mark’s face was all about a secret, so they chatted some more about music and food and TV. Red started getting ants up his spine. He still hadn’t told Mark he was leaving. I just need to rip off the bandage and tell him.

  Then the waiter approached the table with a frigging hot fudge sundae. Hot fudge, the warmest, smoothest, sexiest, creamiest take on chocolate ever devised by the mind of man. Hoo yeah. The waiter placed it in the middle of their table and put a long-handled spoon in front of each of them. “Enjoy.”

  OMG. One orgasm in a dish and one across the table from him had to be one more than Red’s underused dick could stand. “How did you know it’s my favorite?”

  Mark grinned. “One time when I was at Mom and Pop’s, I saw you drooling over the sundae some customer got. I remembered.”

  “Thank you.”

  Mark scooped up a spoonful of vanilla liberally coated with hot fudge and then held it out to Red.

  Really? Red glanced beside him, looking for disapproving observers, but didn’t see anyone who seemed to be watching. Their booth really was mostly private. Okay. He leaned forward, opened his mouth, and let the spoon slip inside.

  Oh. My. God. Red’s eyes closed of their own accord, and he let the cold/hot combo slide along his tongue to cool his nerve endings. Funny how it didn’t work out that way. His brain went crazy picturing all the places he’d like to smear the hot fudge and then lick it off. Imagine the freezing ice cream on Mark’s hot flesh, and then Red’s tongue—holy shit. He snuck his hand into his lap and squeezed.

  Down, boy!

  With effort, Red opened his eyes and swallowed hard. “You haven’t had any.” He filled a spoon and thrust it out toward Mark.

  Mark had a sparkle in his eyes, like he knew exactly what was going on in Red’s head—and his lap. Slowly, Mark extended his tongue and slid it sinuously around the ice cream. His eyelids fluttered and closed and then a long, soft moan escaped from his throat.

  “Holy shit.”

  Mark’s eyes blinked open, and Red realized he’d said that out loud, but he couldn’t drag his gaze from Mark’s tongue. He wanted it. He wanted it all over him. In his mouth, on his skin, and most of all, on his cock. His own lips parted in welcome.

  When Red’s gaze met Mark’s, he wasn’t smiling either. He raised a finger. “Check, please.”

  The next ten minutes were a blur of paying the bill, pulling on jackets, and ignoring the knowing glances of the host as he watched them hurry toward the door. In the parking lot, Mark held the door of the truck for Red who practically dove through it.

  When Mark got in the other side, he started the engine, w
hich freaked Red who wanted no driving, only kissing and sucking and whatever the hell else they could manage to do in the truck. Mark backed out of the space as Red grabbed for his seat belt, but Mark only drove a few yards into a back part of the lot deep in shadow, chose a space with no cars nearby and turned off the engine and the lights at the same time.

  Good thing because Red was turned on enough for all of them. He still held the seat belt in his hand, but Mark ignored that. Leaning close, he captured Red’s gaze with his own, then reached over and slid down Red’s zipper.

  As Red felt the cool air on his hot parts, his eyes widened and the seat belt slid back into its resting position.

  Mark said softly, “Yes?”

  On a long stream of air, Red sighed, “Yes.”

  Mark’s head vanished, and one second later, something amazing happened. All Red’s dreams, or at least the ones he’d had enough imagination to conjure—came true.

  “Holy crap!” For a second, the shock of having his penis disappear into a warm, wet, and unfamiliar place made Red shy back. Then, like his body was screaming Are you crazy?, Red’s hips lifted and thrust in some new kind of dance. “Oh God. Oh God.” Never. Never had he even imagined.

  In his protected eighteen years, Red had managed a few decent handjobs. The guy behind the restaurant that time, and back when Red was thirteen and had a brand-new full-grown cock to play with. Doogie Apwell had been in the math club with Red and used to come over to study and prepare for matches. They’d agreed that jerking each other’s junk was just something that guys did—and they’d done it all the time. They talked about what a blowjob would be like, but Doogie had heard that any dude who sucked cock must be gay, so he drew the line. Fortunately, Red had never said out loud how good the idea sounded to him.

  His imagination was barely in the running. This was heaven. Red heard the grunts and moans coming out of his own mouth and couldn’t stop them. Could balls actually boil? “Oh man, Mark. Jeez, I—oh God.”

  Mark licked up one side and down the other, softly, then his head would bob as he sucked like a mother f-ing Dyson. Holy shit!

  Too much. Red’s whole head filled with heat and light until thinking wasn’t even a thought. Electricity ran up and down his arms and legs, then dove for his groin and lit up his cock like a floodlight at the football stadium. His dick could light up New York City. A whole new concept in energy saving!

  Suddenly, Mark grabbed Red’s cock in one of his big hands. He applied his lips to the tip and sucked and then—holy new idea of bliss!—that hand began to pump. Pump. Suck. Pump. Suck. Faster and faster.

  “Ooooooh!” Red hollered as everything in his balls emptied in an explosion that would have hit the trees if his cock hadn’t still been in Mark’s mouth. “Oh Mark, no, sorry, ohhhh.” A tidal wave of pleasure swamped him and he quit talking, as his mouth opened on a silent scream. Shudders ran through him as another jolt spurted out and then a third. Mark never took his mouth away and Red wanted to feel embarrassed, but he just couldn’t. Instead, he slumped sideways on the seat until his shoulder hit the car door. Could a person die of pleasure?

  As he quit breathing like a freight train and his heart rate slowed down to below cardiac arrest, other feelings crept in. Was that awful for Mark? Having all that in his mouth? I feel like I’ll never get it up again, but Mark must have blue balls. Don’t I need to return the favor? But I don’t know how.

  “Psst.” Mark’s lips hovered near his ear and the whisper of his breath tickled. “You’re thinking way too hard.”

  Red didn’t move from his collapsed position—couldn’t actually—but he let his eyes drift open. “I was thinking about how it’s my turn.”

  Mark’s even teeth shone in the soft light. “Oh no, you’ve had more than enough lessons for one day. This is not the 24 Hours to the Language of Love total immersion course.” He chuckled. “We’ve got lots of time.”

  Well hell. Talk about how to kill an afterglow. Red scooted to an upright position and stared at his lap where a very relaxed cock was no longer making a tent in his best dark jeans. “No, we don’t.”

  “What?”

  Red sighed. “We don’t have lots of time. I got this contract with this big designer and I have to leave Sunday for the city so I can start work Monday morning at eight.”

  The words practically echoed in the absofuckinglutely quiet car.

  Red rushed on. “I’m sorry I waited so long to tell you. I was going to bring it up, but I was having so much fun and I didn’t want to think about leaving. I’m sorry.” And he really was. Heat pushed against his eyes until it turned to water and some leaked onto his cheeks.

  Mark grabbed him. “Don’t cry. Please. I understand. Hell, whoever heard of an opportunity like this for a kid from Ever After. You’ve always been too good for this place. You’ll take the big city by storm.”

  The trickle turned into a stream. “But I don’t even know if it’s what I want and I’m pretty sure it’s not!”

  Mark held Red away at arm’s length. “Then don’t do it.”

  Red snuffled. “It’s just that I found out that Gran’s worried about the future and how she’s going to live. I can’t support her on what I make at Mom and Pop’s. She’s taken care of me my whole life. Hell, I could have been a foster kid when my mother abandoned me. Gran’s always done what she had to and given me a good life. We’ve been making it since she retired, but I could make things so much easier for her.”

  Mark started to say something, then stopped. “I understand.”

  “But I’m going to come back all the time. Every chance I get, I’ll be home. Can I, I mean do you still want me to…”

  Mark smiled, but it looked sad. “What?”

  “Be your boyfriend? I mean, not that you asked me to be your boyfriend and I know just a blowjob doesn’t mean we’re committed or anything and I don’t want to be an asshole and presume and—”

  Mark grabbed Red by the neck and kissed him full on the mouth with tongue all over the place.

  Oh boy. Red melted against him. Blowjobs were great, but kissing was just it. He twined his arms around Mark’s neck and kissed back with everything he had, trying to push all the caring and missing into his lips.

  By the time Mark pulled back, Red’s nether regions had returned to a full upright position. Mark said, “Yes, I want you to be my boyfriend. No matter what—pretty much.”

  A thrill coursed through Red’s chest and raised the hair on his arms. He wants me. And the less he thought about what pretty much meant, the better.

  Mark glanced at his watch. “We missed the movie.”

  “This was way better.” After he said it, he felt himself blush, but a greater truth was never spoken.

  “So, you leave Sunday.”

  Red nodded. “Yeah. I have to catch a pretty early train. They don’t run as many on Sunday.”

  “I’ll take you.”

  “That would be great.” Oh wow, that was a real boyfriend move.

  “How about tomorrow night? Can I have another date?” He leaned over and whispered in Red’s ear. “Since I am, after all, your boyfriend.”

  “For sure. I have to do my last day at Mom and Pop’s. I’m showing up early so they can have a ‘surprise’ going-away party for me.” He chuckled. “I probably won’t get much work done, but it’s my last shift. At least until I come back.” He took a breath.

  “Okay. We’ll have a fun last date—until you come back, that it.” He glanced at his watch again. “I guess I better take you home so your gran doesn’t get upset with me.” He started the truck. “I hope she’ll let me look out for her a little while you’re gone.”

  Red smiled. Jesus, how did he, or Gran for that matter, ever deserve Mark Woods?

  When they pulled up in front of Red’s house fifteen minutes later, Mark said, “I really look forward to tomorrow night. I’ll pick you up after work.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  Just like Red was hoping, Mark leaned ove
r and kissed him. Oh yeah, the kissing was so good. And when he got upstairs, he planned to research blowjobs so he could return the favor to Mark on their date the next night. Maybe they wouldn’t go anywhere except hang out at Mark’s place and make out all evening. Whoa, his cock loved that idea. And he planned to be the best giver of head in the history of gay guys.

  At least, it was a worthy life goal. Better than any he’d ever had.

  Red loved the kissing, but he wasn’t quite as relaxed knowing Gran might be watching through the window. When they broke apart, he said, “You don’t have to plan anything big for tomorrow. I just want to be with you.”

  “Deal.” Mark grinned. “I feel the same way.” He kissed Red gently. “Boyfriend.” Mark jumped out of the truck, circled it, and opened the door for Red, then escorted him to the front porch.

  After another brief peck on the lips, Mark walked back to the truck and Red stared after him, drifting on a cloud of kisses to come. I wonder if I should just google blowjobs or if I need to say oral sex?

  Chapter Twenty-two

  “Thank you for all your hard work, Red. You’ve contributed a lot to the success of Mom and Pop’s, but we always knew you were destined for bigger things.” Pop raised a glass of sparkling cider and all the waiters, busboys, servers, and cooks did the same. No actual champagne. They all had to work after all.

  Red’s cheeks heated. He wasn’t sure if it was more about being the center of attention or the idea that he was destined for some big, imaginary future. But he raised his glass. “Thank you, everyone. I sure am going to miss being here with all of you.” Kimmie cried openly, ignoring her cider. Red cleared his throat. “I’m planning to come back often. All the time. So, you’ll barely get a chance to miss me.”

  A car pulled into the parking lot outside, and Pop said, “I think that’s our cue. We better get to work. We can all say goodbye to Red in between tables.” He laughed, but it sounded a little forced. Mom and Pop were not just losing a waiter. Red also did their books at a reasonable price, and Red knew they trusted him. Now they’d have to find other resources that would probably cost more.