by Rayne Auster
“Really?” I ran my eyes over the white, figure-hugging polo neck and the tight denim that he was clothed in, this time raising my own eyebrow at him in question. “I never would have pegged you as having a stuffy day job like that. What happened to the suit? Is it temporarily out of order?”
“No more out of order than your apartment key, I wager.” His response was quick, sure and pointed. It wasn’t exactly polite, but I have to admit, I deserved it.
“What can I say? I know I’m slight but didn’t quite realize I really am invisible. Maybe it would help if you actually watched where you walked.” I snapped back, suddenly angry, despite the fact that I didn’t appear to have a logical reason to be.
“You sure you don’t want to talk about what happened last night?” Dylan ignored my anger, thus effectively defusing it in the light of his concern. He turned to me, momentarily breaking the most fundamental law known to man: Watch where you are going.
“Why would I want to do that?” I looked away from him, leaned on my hand, and stared blankly out the window. The surliness in my tone was enough to betray the hurt I was trying to hide, and I didn’t need the expression in my eyes to betray me even further. I’m not usually one to dwell on the bad things in my life, and I hated myself for letting Kayden get to me like that.
“It helps… sometimes.” His tone was soft and he didn’t push the matter any further. I was grateful for it.
The rest of the trip was spent in silence, though I can’t say whether it was awkward or not. There was definitely tension in the air, but the reasons for it were as multifaceted as a cut diamond. There was just something about Dylan that drew me to him, and even awkward conversation followed by silence was not enough to deter me. I wanted him, and decided then and there that I would have him, even if I had to humiliate myself to get him.
“Thanks for the lift. I’ll be okay from here.” The moment he parked the car, I slid out. I didn’t know if he planned to help me out or not, but wasn’t really up to finding out. The long night and the alcohol were starting to get to me and I didn’t want to face my inherent attraction to him. I feared I would do something stupid in that state and, as a result, push him away. Not a far stretch for me. So I figured a hasty retreat would be the safest course of action. Sometimes, after all, it’s better to back off and regroup to ensure an efficient offense at a later stage. The only thing I wanted at the time was to escape his presence so I could think.
Unfortunately for me, his mental answering machine was on at the time and his conscious mind didn’t get the message. I barely managed to take two steps and he was beside me, left arm supporting my right to ease my tired wobble towards the entrance. His touch was hot on my skin and my breath hitched as arousal coursed through me once more.
“Running away from me already?” His whispered breath tickled my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. He grinned and I realized he knew exactly what his warm breath trickling over my ear did to me. I should have seen the warning signs then, but I guess I was thinking with a very different head at the time.
“You could say that.” My response was breathy, betraying me and the dirty thoughts in my mind. What can I say? I’m male and my mind practically lives in the gutter.
“Why?” He dropped his tone an octave or so, and I had to bite my lip to keep from whimpering at the sheer sensuality in it. “You’re the one that kissed me.”
He once again left me speechless and it was only when he took a step forward, leading us both to the apartment building, that I realized he was toying with me. I should have been incensed but couldn’t find the heart to protest something a part of me was actually enjoying. Stepping into the apartment building he turned towards the elevators taking me along with him. That is when the true impact of what had happened with Kayden came crashing down onto me like a ton of bricks.
The mere sight of those silver electronic doors was enough to drown my heart in dread. I’d already had two negative experiences within that particular confined space and I didn’t want to face a potential third. Logically I knew I was being ridiculous—after all, the chances of that were practically non-existent—but we’ve already established that reason and emotion are not necessarily linked. Besides, if you really think about it you will realize that the chances of two bad experiences in one elevator in the span of a single week are just as ridiculous. Despite the improbability, it still managed to happen to me. Let’s call it Avery Karma.
That is how I came to the conclusion that that particular elevator was not for me. Digging my crutches into the ground, I stopped dead, halting our progress more than a little abruptly. Dylan stopped beside me, a puzzled frown upon his face. “I’ll take the stairs.” That was the only explanation I offered him before turning away from the dreaded cubicle toward the stairs beside it.
“What do you mean you’ll take the stairs?” he demanded, grabbing hold of my arm to halt my retreat. He was both confused by my decision and determined to get to the bottom of it. I, however, was not about to cave in to his presence a second time and refused to give him the answer he was looking for.
“I mean that I,” I put emphasis on every word, anger and aggression slipping into my tone despite my efforts to remain calm, “am not getting in there.” I waved a crutch, using the motion to point to the elevator, nearly castrating the object of my desire in the process. Now that would be a tragedy beyond comprehension, so let’s be thankful he’s quick on his feet.
Dylan casually sidestepped the flying crutch and released my arm in the process. The motion was far more graceful than it had a right to be, but then again, I guess he’d used up his klutz quota the previous evening, when he stumbled over and broke my ankle. I guess he, like me, doesn’t do things by halves either.
I used the fact that he had to release me to my advantage and actually managed a few paces towards the stairs before his voice intruded upon my perfect retreat. “Are you claustrophobic?”
I really should have seen that one coming, especially taking Dylan’s logical mind into consideration, but the question came at me from nowhere. “Claustrophobic? Why would you think that?” I turned to face him, my mind, sadly, too groggy to make the connections required to understand his reasoning process at the time.
He raised an eyebrow at me in disbelief. “Well, you are trying to avoid a confined space so I don’t really see it as a far stretch, though now that I really think about it I realize it was a stupid assumption to make. You had no problem using the elevator on the way to the hospital and had no problem with my car, so what’s the real problem here?”
“I had other things on my mind,” I muttered darkly under my breath. I didn’t really know how to respond. It’s true that they used the elevator to take me to the hospital last night, but I was far too distracted to truly register the implications. Despite that, I still didn’t want to step into that elevator. Not with images of Kayden and that slut still freshly imprinted upon my mind.
Dylan continued to watch me in silence, my muttered response obviously not enough for him. Or maybe he didn’t hear it, but I wasn’t in the mood to be logical. Realizing that he was not going to let me go until I actually deemed to give him some kind of response, I took a deep breath and gathered what few wits my mind could still reach for in its exhausted and drained out state. “Look. I’m not claustrophobic and before you ask, I don’t have a problem being in a confined space with you.” Yes, I was proud of that one. I actually managed to realize that after claustrophobia; not wanting to be alone in a confined space with him would be the next logical conclusion he’d come to.
The intensity of the way he watched me sent more of those predictable shivers through my body and he allowed the silence between us to stretch for a moment more before speaking. “I don’t bite unless you want me to, and I don’t intend to seduce you right now. Surprising as it may sound, I actually like my partners to be awake for the occasion and you look like you’re about to pass out cold where you stand.”
His words and thei
r implications quite literally pulled a moan from the back of my throat. All my blood rushed from my head into my groin. Oh, the possibilities were endless, and I was almost tempted to take him up on the offer hidden deep within his words. He wanted to fuck me as badly as I wanted to fuck him, and the very idea that he was even considering seduction was enough to have me raring to go.
I had to fight really hard to resist the urge to throw myself into his arms and beg him to claim me. He’d just stated that he wasn’t going to do it because I looked like death warmed over, and I doubt dramatic passion would have done anything to change his mind. He, damn him, is far too logical for that. “It really has nothing to do with you.” My voice came out husky and I had to pause my explanation to clear my throat. “I just don’t have good associations with that elevator.” The look I gave the all-too-innocent silver doors should have shattered them apart but I’m not a superhero so I guess the sheer force of my stare was not enough to make up for the likes of laser vision. “I’m not getting into it and you can’t make me.”
He sighed and shook his head, and that is when I knew I’d won. “All right, Tweety Bird, we’ll have it your way.” And that is how I got my nickname. The end. Wait. Don’t look at me like that. What did you think this story was all about? How I met the man of my dreams? You’re joking, right? You didn’t really think I would spill the sordid details of my practically non-existent love life to a bunch of strangers, did you? I work in IT, remember? I’m not supposed to have a love life. Oh wait, I didn’t get that far. I guess there’s no helping it, then… onward with my tale.
Wake Me Up Before You…
I awoke to a stampede of elephants running through the hallway. Okay, so it was actually a firm knock on my door, but it sounded like a stampede to me at the time. Perhaps, the fact that I was lost in strange dreams where a certain someone was far too well endowed to be human had something to do with it. Or maybe it was the vodka, making me far too sensitive for my own good. Either way, it boils down to the same thing: far too much banging for my liking.
Rolling to the side, I moved to get out of bed only to catch myself mere moments before rather dramatically tumbling to the ground. Seems having an ankle in a cast hinders movement somewhat. Remembering that I actually need to stay off said ankle, I reached for the crutches propped up beside my bed and quite literally hauled my ass out of it.
Annoyed beyond belief, I then headed towards my apartment front door wearing nothing more than sweatpants. I wasn’t expecting any guests and wasn’t about to encourage anyone to actually stay longer than absolutely necessary by actually getting dressed. You could say I got up on the wrong side of the bed.
Pulling the door open, I was just about to growl a greeting, only the sight that met me left me unexpectedly speechless. This is where I need to backtrack a little. After our heated elevator debate, Dylan actually conceded and let me take the stairs. He obviously wasn’t impressed, but had at least decided against arguing with me. Yup, that’s another point to me, though I get the feeling I was on the losing end even then. After twelve flights of stairs, I really was ready to fall asleep standing up. As a result, I didn’t invite Dylan in and my attempts at getting into his pants were put on hold.
To make a long story short, he practically ordered me to go to bed, waited for me to slip into my apartment, and left, which is why the sight of him standing before me a few hours later was unexpected. I would have thought, being as logical as he came across to be, he’d at least have given me more than seven hours of sleep after the night I had.
“Lunch.” He lifted the bag he carried with a grin and then proceeded to slip right past me, into my private domain, without so much as a by your leave. I was left to stare blankly into an empty hallway as if the very air before me could explain away my new neighbor’s behavior.
Giving in to the inevitable, I closed the door and hobbled deeper back into my apartment in search of the invading hordes. I know one man doesn’t usually qualify as a horde, but when that one man is Dylan… I think you get my drift. “Why are you here?” I questioned, sinking down beside him in the living room. I’m a minimalist when it comes to furniture and only have one couch. Reason? I have as much of a social life as I do a love life, which, with the recent exception of Dylan, is nada! I guess that’s why Kayden’s actions impacted me as much as they did. He was one of the few friends I actually had.
“I brought you lunch.” Dylan reached into the bag to pull out chopsticks.
“Why?” I questioned, blatantly looking a gift horse in the mouth.
“I figured you’d be hungry by now.” Dylan pulled out a box of Chinese and dropped it into my lap, not even pausing to look at me as he rummaged around in the bag. “Now stop interrogating me and eat.” Retrieving what was obviously his share, he dropped the bag and flipped a pair of chopsticks my way with a grin. “I didn’t know what you like, so I got you beef.” He explained, flipping his own box open.
I glanced down at the warm box in my lap and followed suit, popping it open to peer at the steaming noodles contained therein. A sudden impulse to tease him niggled at my senses and I couldn’t help but give in to the temptation. “And if I’m vegetarian?” I glanced back towards him from the corner of my eye, trying really hard not to be too obvious about it.
It was like watching a movie in slow motion. His hand froze in mid-motion, already halfway towards his mouth, beef and noodles dangling from his chopsticks. The slice of beef slipped out and fell back into his box and his arm followed thereafter, slowly dropping down. “Are you?” He stared at me, an expression of disbelief and awkward shock on his face.
“Nope.” Scooping up a large portion of noodles, I stuffed it into my mouth with a grin. “Just thought I’d see if you really are as anal as you seem to be. A good anal retentive person would have planned ahead and bought one of each, chicken, beef and vegetable, just in case.” I don’t know what possessed me to be that blunt, but I enjoyed it. The expression on Dylan’s face was priceless.
“Anal retentive?” Dylan speared his noodles with his chopsticks but didn’t move to eat. “Why do you say that?” His tone was mild.
“You do like things just so. Everything needs to be ordered and structured and needs to make perfect sense in your world. Kind of like having life all wrapped up in a pretty little box.” I scooped some more food into my mouth, savoring the rich flavor. It was the best Chinese take out I had ever eaten. Strange, isn’t it? How food always tastes better when you have someone to share it with?
“Hmm.” He hummed, seeming to lose himself in thought for a moment. Surprisingly, he actually considered my words. Twirling his chopsticks, he gathered some of his noodles and put them into his mouth. His lips wrapped ever so softly around the sticks and so my mind once again took a headlong dive into its favorite place of residence: the gutter. I was of the opinion there were better things those lips could be wrapped around, and almost choked on a stray noodle at the thought.
“While we’re on the topic of anal retentive behavior….” He turned to face me dead on and I had to swallow back a moan as I watched the chopsticks slide out of his mouth. I swear, the manipulative bastard did it on purpose, deliberately drawing the motion out as he watched me with a speculative gleam in those gorgeous, predatory blue eyes of his. Someday, I’ll get him back for that.
“I’d like to return to last night’s conversation. We never got round to discussing what you do.” He dropped his chopsticks into his container with a grin. He then moved to, oh so casually, continue his torment of me. Placing the still-full food container onto my coffee table, he proceeded to clean imaginary sauce off his fingers with his tongue. It had to be imaginary; he hadn’t eaten enough to have that much sauce on his skin.
Biting back the groan that surfaced at the sight, I turned away from him and cleared my throat. I tried really hard to focus on the question he’d asked me, instead of on how sexy it was when his pink tongue lapped at his smooth tan skin. “I’m a technical business analyst.�
�� How I managed to be coherent I’ll never know, but I must say I’m rather proud of how smoothly I managed to answer his question.
“Technical business analyst?” He repeated my words back at me for the second time that day, making me wonder if perhaps it wasn’t some kind of secret interrogation technique designed to wear someone down before the real questions began. “What exactly does a business analyst do?” He leaned in closer and I could sense the now all-too-familiar scent of warm vanilla. The move was entirely deliberate and successfully managed to unbalance me even further.
I licked suddenly dry lips and shifted in an attempt to hide the rather prominent tent in my pants. Let me take this moment to supply a random interesting little fact: most men only need about ten seconds in order to be fully aroused. Bet you didn’t know that. I on the other hand, didn’t even need those ten seconds that day. I guess Dylan has that effect on me. Clearing my throat again, I fought my mind, grappling with my thoughts in an attempt to maintain enough coherence to hide the effect Dylan’s presence had on my body. It was a lost cause, but I didn’t know that then. “Well… uh… it’s difficult to explain.”
“Try.” He breathed into my ear, sending a spike of pleasure through me. That’s when I realized Dylan has a sadistic streak a mile wide. He had to know that was one of my erogenous zones. He was breathing into that ear far too often not to have noticed.
Swallowing past the sudden lump in my throat, I backtracked through our conversation, trying to pinpoint exactly what it was we were actually talking about. “I guess… that depends on where you work.” I licked my lips once more, more than a touch out of my element now that he was so physically close to me. “I… uh… usually a technical BA writes functional specifications… um… documents that specify how a piece of software is going to be implemented in order to achieve a given goal defined by business.”
