“You did promise, one time tonight… I’m claiming that promise.” Brenden would never know if Dakota would get to a point where he could bottom with him, and that was okay. He wouldn’t push him. He wanted the both of them to be able to look back on this night and have nothing but good memories. “But bottoming’s not what I have in mind.”
“It’s not?” Curiosity warmed Dakota’s eyes. “But it still requires you pinning me down?”
“Oh yes,” Brenden said with a lazy smile. He wanted to love every inch of Dakota and brand every moment in his mind. “Do you trust me?”
“Yeah, you know I do.” Dakota relaxed more, and Brenden kissed each one of his wrists. He trailed his lips down the sensitive line on the inner side of Dakota’s arm and felt his shiver. “What do you have in mind?” Dakota asked in a breathy voice.
“You’ll see.” Brenden kissed the inside of his elbow and flicked his tongue along the crease. “Now hush and be patient. This may take a while. I’m not sure you can handle the level of foreplay I’m about to lay on you.”
Dakota laughed, a husky sound that wrapped around Brenden. He could listen to Dakota’s voice for hours, especially here in the dim intimacy of a shared bed. “I had you begging,” Dakota reminded him. “Think you can do better?”
Brenden smiled against his skin and kept his mouth shut. Sometimes it was better to show, and he had to take his time if he was going to memorize every detail that he had forbidden himself before. He’d show Dakota what it meant to beg.
Chapter Ten
DAKOTA SCANNED the hotel’s restaurant, searching for his wayward brother. No, after last night he couldn’t consider Brenden his brother anymore. Not that he ever had. Friend, confidant, someone he could pick a fight with when they were both moody. Brenden was the one person Dakota trusted to remain constant in his life. He wasn’t sure what Brenden was to him now. More than he was yesterday, but he was going to pick it apart until it came to him.
He’d spent the first half of the night bringing to life every naughty thought he could remember having of Brenden, and he was pretty sure he’d only covered a fraction of them. Then Brenden had gotten it into his crazy head that it was his turn to act out a couple of fantasies.
Dakota paused, a slight shiver running down his back. Brenden had made love to him with his mouth. Dakota hadn’t even realized such a damn thing was possible until Brenden had him quivering like a virgin teenager. Last night had revealed a whole mess of hidden pockets in his friend, and Dakota wanted to open each one and poke around.
He’d been prepared for a little awkwardness in the light of the morning. They’d bounded over a huge line between them, and there was no going back. Not that he wanted to. And let’s face it, Brenden was king of the awkward at times, especially when his emotions got involved. But Dakota wasn’t expecting outright avoidance from the man. He definitely didn’t expect to wake up and find Brenden already gone.
Fucking coward. Deep down, though, the reaction worried the hell out of him. He had not expected Brenden to use this tactic.
Knowing Brenden, he’d woken up and immediately started thinking. Thinking would lead to worrying. And that was a straight trip down to the dark side for Brenden. He began imagining problems that didn’t exist, or if they did, he gave them far more power than they deserved. Dakota was going to put a stop to that.
Dakota tried Brenden’s cell again, but the same message popped up. In a meeting.
In a meeting, his ass. It was too early for meetings, probably too early for emergencies. If it was an emergency, Brenden would’ve said something before he left. No, Brenden was freaking out because they got naked and let loose for a night. It was sex. Straight-up awesome sex with his best friend. No expectations, only pleasure. Trust Brenden to blow it out of proportion. Dakota continued his inward rant as he glanced over each table even as a tiny voice of concern continued to nag him.
Dakota swore under his breath and was about to leave when he spotted Brenden by a window in the back, half-hidden behind a potted plant. There’s the bastard. Dakota marched over to where Brenden drank coffee and stared out the window with his ever-present sunglasses on. God, Dakota hated those sunglasses.
Brenden must’ve registered his approach because his shoulders tensed. He half glanced over his shoulder and his lips pressed together in a defensive line. “You didn’t understand my message?”
“Fuck your message.” Dakota stopped at the table and jabbed a finger at Brenden. “You’re not in a meeting. You’re hiding.”
Brenden set his coffee down and turned his gaze from Dakota as he fiddled with his spoon. He even stirred his coffee precisely, a mannerism that both exasperated and endeared him to Dakota. Right now, though, Dakota recognized it for a delaying tactic and growled in response.
Brenden jerked his shoulder in irritation. “If I’d wanted to talk, I would’ve answered the phone. Since I didn’t, that should be a sign.”
Dakota snatched those damned sunglasses off and Brenden flinched, glancing at him. Guilt rose in his eyes, and Brenden looked away again. Just as he’d thought. Brenden had been hiding behind those glasses for so long, hiding how he felt, deliberately leaving Dakota in the dark, trying to feel his way around him. It wasn’t right. They were supposed to be friends. Friends didn’t keep secrets from each other. His fury mounted as he dropped the sunglasses onto the floor and smashed them under his foot.
The guilt on Brenden’s face gave way to shocked outrage. “You are a jackass.”
“Yeah, I am.” Dakota slid into the seat opposite him. “And you’re a bastard. And here we are, the jackass and bastard show.”
“You had no right—”
“You had no right to up and disappear on me this morning. Not after last night,” Dakota cut in with a low, tight voice. “We owe each other more than that. And don’t tell me you weren’t hiding. Don’t tell me you weren’t using those glasses as a shield, because I’m not that clueless.”
The indignation gave way to guilt again, and Brenden rested his elbows on the table as he scrubbed his hands over his face. “Fine. You’re right, on all counts. It was wrong. I need space today, okay?”
“Why? So you can figure out how to hide more?” Dakota snapped. “Not happening. We’re going to talk about you and me and the fact we got down and dirty last night. You’re going to acknowledge it.”
“I am not having this conversation now.” Brenden looked around at the restaurant and the few familiar faces who were up as early as they were. They didn’t pay him and Brenden any attention. Dakota supposed that years of public wrangling gave them the liberty of privacy now.
How could Dakota have missed the signs all these years? The way Brenden would cut him out, retreat, until he’d recovered his equilibrium and then let him back in. How he’d goad Dakota into being mad at him so he didn’t question the dynamic between them. How the fuck had he not realized Brenden wanted him as much as Dakota wanted Brenden? There was no shame in a little mutual lust.
Now he was trying to do the same thing, but Dakota had zero intentions of letting Brenden push him away. He sure as fuck wasn’t about to let Brenden have second thoughts about last night when he’d been whispering hotly in Dakota’s ear about how much he wanted what Dakota was giving him. Dakota forced his thoughts away from that direction. If he remembered last night, he’d try to seduce Brenden right back into his bed, and that would be a mistake. Brenden needed to air out whatever he was chewing on or it would fester. As fun as it would be to have early-morning sex, it would give Brenden the excuse he wanted to avoid reality.
“Oh yes, we are.” Dakota leaned closer and lowered his voice. “We can either go to our room and talk there, or we can have it out here. Your choice, but if you try to dodge me again it’s about to get real loud, real public, real fast.”
Brenden’s eyes widened in prissy horror. At any other time Dakota would be amused at the reaction, but right now there was too much at stake. The more time passed, the harder it would be
to get Brenden to fess up, and soon the convention demands would start and they would have no chance. “You wouldn’t be that much of a jackass.”
“Watch me. I’ll stage a scene worthy of Felipe,” Dakota swore. “Believe me, I’ve observed a master at work. So what’s it going to be?”
Brenden compressed his mouth in a thin, hard line as he stared Dakota down, weighing his resolve. Dakota longed to kiss his mouth into smiling softness again. Just like he’d been smiling when they’d lain together talking before finally drifting off. Dakota found himself leaning forward before he thought, and a hand to his face stopped him. He peered through Brenden’s fingers as he gave Dakota a gentle push and a grim stare.
“Slow your roll, Romeo.” Brenden shook his head in disgust as he stood up. “I almost bought your shit. Talk. Yeah, right. Sure you do. Is that going to be your new euphemism to get me alone?”
Unsettled by Brenden’s reaction, Dakota raked his gaze over Brenden’s body. “Well if you want to fuck first, I wouldn’t say no.” Now was not the time to point out Brenden had kissed him first. Though to be fair, he had cornered him into it.
“Don’t cretinize this any more than you already have,” Brenden snapped, straightening the cuffs of his shirt.
“Stop it with—” Dakota broke off as Brenden’s expression tightened, and he shook his finger in Dakota’s face when he started to call Brenden out for his dumb-ass word choices. He was doing it on purpose.
“I’m not another one of your conquests you toss aside later on when the thought of actually committing to someone sends you running,” Brenden said in a passionate undertone. Once again his icy veneer had disappeared, only this time Dakota wasn’t sure how to react.
He couldn’t figure out how the hell he’d lost complete control of this argument, but he’d never seen Brenden so hurt, so angry in all the years they’d known each other. And somehow he was the cause of it. He grabbed Brenden’s hand. “Please, sit down.”
Brenden hesitated and then slid back into the booth. “Why’d you come looking for me?” He glanced at Dakota, and Dakota spied both torment and hope in Brenden’s gaze. Dakota wanted to know what the fuck he was thinking about so hard that had him all worked up, but he was afraid of the answer. With Brenden, it could be anything.
Dakota was suddenly conscious of the surreptitious glances in their direction. He might have threatened to make a scene, but there were some things Brenden would hold a grudge over. He suspected announcing their sexual habits, less than twenty-four hours into their new whatever, to the public, would be a topic that would make Brenden angry for a long time. Hell, not even public, friends and coworkers, which would be worse in Brenden’s eyes. He’d be utterly mortified.
Dakota leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Because I woke up alone and you weren’t there and I wanted to pick up where we left off.” Which was making Brenden so out of his mind crazy with sexual frustration that every time he paused during the day he’d think of Dakota and the next time they could be alone again. Not about whatever crawled up his ass.
When they got home tonight after the con, he wanted to snuggle with Brenden on the couch and slowly undress him. They were going to christen every room in that little house, down to his studio out back.
“Not because you wanted to talk?” Brenden looked down at his cup, his shoulders slumping. Brenden’s whole reaction unsettled the hell out of Dakota. This was what happened when he let Brenden think too much again.
“The only thing I want to know is what’s freaking you out enough that you felt justified in sneaking out of bed. And on that note, why even hide what you wanted all these years?” Dakota asked in a low hiss. “I want you. You want me. What more is there to talk about? We’re not fucking girls. Jesus, no one knows me like you. It’s not like this is serious.”
Brenden’s head jerked up, and Dakota realized that his word choice wasn’t the best. His eyes were cold and that veneer back, stronger than ever. “You know, I’m beginning to understand why Felipe told you to fuck off.”
Now that was uncalled for. Brenden had as much to do with Felipe ending it as Dakota. He stared at Brenden, for once not able to come up with a single thing to say and afraid that anything he did say or do would make it worse.
“This isn’t a game. This has fucking weight. It should have weight.” Brenden pounded his fist on the tabletop. “I don’t understand how you can’t see that.”
It hit Dakota with a ruthless slap, and he continued staring at him with dawning horror. Brenden didn’t just want him. Brenden was in love with him.
Brenden’s shoulders stiffened and his eyes flashed in warning. “Don’t look at me like that.” He slammed his coffee cup down, sloshing the remainder out, and rose abruptly from the table. He turned on his heel and walked away, his head down as he avoided the glances of those who knew them.
Flabbergasted, Dakota sat back as Brenden stalked out of the restaurant. Oh boy… what was he supposed to do? This was the second time in less than twenty-four hours when all his preconceived notions about Brenden Wade had been turned on their ass.
He was an idiot.
Dakota took a furtive look around the restaurant, replaying their conversation, how loud they’d been in their back corner, and weighing it against those curious expressions. Despite their heated words, they hadn’t started yelling, so they should be okay. The last thing Brenden needed today was nosy friends and acquaintances digging into this scene. People were used to seeing them arguing and paid it no mind. They’d chalk this up to them venting off at each other as usual.
Brenden loved him. Like forever love. That explained so damn much. And he didn’t know what to do about it. What he wanted to do.
Dakota dragged his hands through his hair and sat back, staring unseeingly out the window. He needed to talk to someone. The only problem was the one person he depended on for real, frank conversations like this just walked away. He had friends, but not many he’d trust with an issue this serious.
Felipe? Fuck no…. Bad idea. Daphne, maybe. She was pretty straight up about things, or Jackie. Nothing much fazed her. No… they’d be weirded out about him and Brenden at first, and he needed somebody who also considered Brenden a friend. Which ruled out Trask. He didn’t talk with Brenden much. Hell, he didn’t talk much period.
Morris, that’s who he needed. Morris was steady and approachable even before he found his Zen with his other half. Felipe told Morris everything, which meant he’d probably already had an earful about the sexual tension between him and Brenden. Now it was a whole different tension.
Dakota buried his face in his hands. He was babbling inside his head. This was why he didn’t do relationships—too much uncertainty and work, all for something that might not pan out after all. He wasn’t built like that. This was the point where he usually said screw it and walked away. That was not an option this time.
The only thing Dakota knew for sure was he couldn’t let Brenden think he equated him in any way with the other guys in his past. The idea was ludicrous.
Dakota called Brenden’s phone and got the same stupid damned message. If he heard that meeting bullshit one more time, he would shove Brenden’s phone up his sweet ass.
“You think last night didn’t mean anything to me?” Dakota said in a low voice, furious he was forced to leave a damned “last night” message. “Dammit, Bren, you’re not just another conquest.”
He hung up, resisting the urge to throw his phone. He didn’t know what Brenden was anymore, but a tick on his fuck list was not it.
Chapter Eleven
BRENDEN REPLAYED the message for the umpteenth time this week, his heart aching with a renewed pang at the fierce note in Dakota’s voice. His heart wanted to believe it, but his brain knew better. As if Brenden weren’t already miserable enough, he had to add con crud on top of it all. He’d fought the sniffles and coughing all week, burying himself in after-show details and other work in an effort to avoid Dakota. Since it seemed Dakota was as dedica
ted to avoiding him, his efforts worked, but dammit, it depressed him. And by Friday the sniffles and coughs had blown up to fevers and chills.
He wrapped a blanket tighter around himself as another shiver racked him. He should delete the message instead of tormenting himself with it. At least Dakota wasn’t around to witness how pathetic he was acting.
He was away for the weekend in Richmond, catching up with friends and role-playing with his group. Brenden had three days of quiet to get over this stupid cold, let himself mourn what might’ve been, then work on shoving his emotions back in the box they’d erupted from. He had to accomplish that, for both his sanity and the sake of their friendship, which meant too damn much to him to let it be damaged.
Brenden spent Friday cleaning the house from top to bottom between doses of the strongest cold medicine he could find and naps. He couldn’t get rid of the signs of Dakota’s occupation, but he could make it seem like his own place again. Despite how it wore him out, by the end of the day, Brenden felt better. He could handle anything if his world was organized.
Today was his day of indulgence. He had Tron and Tron Legacy all ready to go. He had a pot of chicken soup simmering on the stove. And he’d uncovered Dakota’s secret stash of double-chocolate brownies. It would serve the jerk right if he ate every last piece. The two he’d eaten yesterday had mellowed him out. So he’d dipped into the stash again while putting the soup together.
The squares of chocolate heaven had definitely taken the edge off his heartbreak. Or maybe it was the combination of cold medicine and the congestion that had his head so floaty. Brenden didn’t care; at least he wasn’t on the verge of tears again. He hated getting weepy. It made him feel like he was a teenager. He didn’t do emo anymore.
Brenden knew exactly what he wanted: a committed relationship with Dakota where he didn’t have to hide his feelings from the world. He’d always known. But he might as well be sixteen again, wishing for his parents to be back together, for his dad not to be so absent from their lives. Loneliness drove his mom to her affair and to his dad abandoning them. But all the wishes and prayers hadn’t gone in the direction he wanted, and his mom had died while his dad still refused to acknowledge him. Instead, those wishes and prayers had landed him with a new family and a love he could never have. He must’ve fucked over his karma in a past life.
A Beautiful Disaster Page 9
