by Cari Z.
“Dad!” She punched him in the shoulder; maybe it was a familial trait, this affectionate violence.
Lennox laughed and lifted his hands in surrender. “I’m kidding! I’d show you how to do other, much cooler things with knives.”
“Like what, throwing them?” Elliot asked.
“Exactly.”
That was not the answer he’d been expecting, given they were talking about what was and wasn’t appropriate to teach a thirteen-year-old. “What, really?” he asked once he’d picked up his jaw.
“Well, not pocket knives, but throwing knives, yeah.” Lennox shrugged. “That’s what they’re for.”
“Dad knows all sorts of cool things,” Lee said, not a minute after she’d appeared convinced that her father could do nothing cool. “I think he’d probably be a Gryffindor, since he was in the Army and now he’s kind of like an Auror. He’d totally ace Defense Against the Dark Arts.”
“I could see that,” Elliot agreed. “Although I think there’s maybe some Hufflepuff in him too.”
“Seriously, what are you two talking about?” Lennox half demanded, half pleaded. Lee took pity on her father and started to explain the many twists and turns of the Harry Potter series to him, a conversation that lasted through the bread and salad courses.
“And then there’s the new movie, which is so, so good.” Lee looked at Elliot expectantly, and he winced.
“I’m afraid I haven’t caught up on the new stuff,” he said apologetically. “I just don’t have time for it the way I did for the first series.”
“But it’s all about the fantastic beasts! It’s so good!” Lee seemed boggled at this breakdown in Elliot’s Potter cred.
“I know, I’m missing out,” Elliot said with a sigh. “But I’ve been a lot busier lately.” Much busier than when I was in rehab and the Harry Potter series was the only set of DVDs in the place. “I’ll have to catch up on it.”
“You should make Dad watch the original films with you, and then we can catch up on the new stuff together,” she advised.
“Ah.” Elliot’s usually quick tongue stumbled over nothing. Apparently they’d jumped from “friendly dinner out” to “Netflix and chill” in the blink of an eye. “Um.”
Lennox gently tugged on her longer hair. “What’s next here, huh? Red? Pink? Polka dots?”
Lee rolled her eyes but let her father get away with changing the subject. “Polka dots would be awesome, but I like the purple for now.”
Dinner took long enough that in the end, Lennox vetoed the idea of a movie even though it wasn’t a school night because “Elliot’s already gone out of his way for us, sweetheart, I don’t want to keep him up until midnight.”
“Because then my car turns into a pumpkin,” Elliot added, and Lee laughed. The more engaged she’d become, the more relaxed her father had been. It had been nice to see the lines of tension in Lennox’s angular face lighten when his daughter laughed. He liked being the one to make him relax. Elliot’s college pranks had proven to be a gold mine of dubious life choices with hilarious results, and he was always ready to sacrifice his dignity on the altar of self-interest if it meant those dark eyes following his every move like they couldn’t bear to look away.
“Fine,” Lee capitulated at last. “But next time we’re gonna watch Hamlet. The good version, and you don’t get to say anything or make any comments about it, okay?”
“Hamlet?” That seemed a strange choice for a thirteen-year-old. “You’re a Shakespeare fan?”
Lee nodded enthusiastically. “I’m named for Shakespeare!”
“Oh really? Is Lee somehow short for William?”
“Oh my God.” She clunked her head down on her dad’s shoulder. “It’s short for Ophelia, Elliot. Obviously.”
Lennox held his hands up when Elliot turned a questioning look on him. “Hey, it was her mom’s choice, not mine. I voted for Jenny.”
Lee rolled her eyes. “Jenny is so boring, Dad.”
“Jenny is a cute name.”
“I want to be memorable, not cute,” she protested, and just about won Elliot’s heart right there.
“Good idea,” he agreed. “Although I recommend you avoid Danish princes if you can help it.”
“I don’t need a prince,” Lee informed him loftily, making Lennox laugh again. “And Dad got to pick my middle name, so it all turned out fair.”
“Ophelia Jenny, huh?”
“Nope.” She held on to her answer for a moment, like she was savoring it. “It’s . . . Ophelia Sky!”
Now he was even more surprised. “Your middle name is Sky?”
“Uh-huh,” she said smugly. “Just like my dad.”
Lennox was blushing. He was actually blushing. Elliot loved it. “Your mom really is a hippie, isn’t she?”
“I told you that.”
“Yes, but I didn’t know you were Lennox Sky West. That’s hard evidence, my friend.”
“It’s Dad’s secret from his Army friends,” Lee said. “He tells them all that the S stands for Sam.”
“You should own it,” Elliot advised. “It breaks down stereotypes, knowing that a guy like you is named Sky and isn’t ashamed. You can be a badass and a hippie child at the same time.”
Lee stared at him with a broad smile on her heart-shaped face. “You totally remind me of Uncle Oliver.” Lennox stiffened, but his daughter charged on obliviously. “He calls dad Sky sometimes, when he’s trying to be cutesy. It’s kind of adorable.”
“I didn’t know Serena had a brother in addition to her sisters.”
“Oh, he’s not an uncle like that. He’s Dad’s best friend. They’ve known each other forever, but he travels a lot so we don’t get to see him very much.”
Elliot managed to keep any sign of his intense surge of discomfort down to a single blink. “A best friend, huh?” Is that what kids are calling it these days?
“Aaand I think we’re done here,” Lennox said as he stood up. He had already handled the bill, insisting it was the least he could do when he’d basically dragged Elliot out with them. “Text your mom and let her know we’re on our way.”
It was a good thing the drive back wasn’t long, because Elliot wasn’t feeling loquacious anymore and Lee spent all her time texting. He pulled to a stop outside the house and saw a familiar woman exit the front door. Oh please, don’t let her come down here to talk. The last thing he wanted to do tonight was be introduced to Serena’s perennially disapproving sister. Fortunately she just gave Lennox a quick hug, then escorted her daughter into the house.
The ride back to his own house was unfortunately longer, but neither of them seemed inclined to tackle the silence, although Lennox kept glancing over like he was trying to read Elliot’s mind. Well, too bad. Lennox could figure it out by extrapolation, which was apparently what he expected everyone else to do when it came to him.
Anyway, it wasn’t like Elliot had already asked Lennox out. They’d flirted a bit. That was the sum total of their interaction. And Elliot didn’t want anything more. He wasn’t really interested in taking Lennox to bed. He could handle a bit of disappointment. He could. So the man was spoken for, so he flirted like a cheeky fucker, who cared? I don’t need to be around another person I can’t trust.
Getting back to his place was a relief. Elliot shut off the engine and got out of the car. Lennox followed. “I know it’s late but I’m pretty sure there are still some tow places that—”
“I’m not dating Oliver.” The words sounded like they’d been forced out of Lennox’s mouth, but he was staring straight at Elliot, serious and earnest all at once. “Not anymore.”
Ah-hah. “But you used to?”
“Until recently, yeah.”
Elliot was more than a little shocked. “Are you saying you had a boyfriend while you were in the Army?”
Lennox winced slightly. “Not so much a boyfriend as a . . . friend with benefits? That’s not why Lee calls him her uncle, though. Oliver and I have known each other since high sch
ool. He’s always been part of her life.”
“That’s much more cosmopolitan of you than I was expecting,” Elliot admitted. It was heartening too―the flirting hadn’t been a rude move on either of their parts. And now that he had confirmation that Lennox was as open to being with a man as Elliot had hoped he was . . . “You know, you could hold off on calling a tow, if you’d like.” He smiled slowly: it was his bedroom smile, calculated for maximum effectiveness.
It was too dark to see if Lennox’s eyes dilated, but Elliot heard him swallow. “Are you sure about that?” Lennox’s voice was still composed, but huskier than it had been a second ago. “I don’t want to impose.”
“I wouldn’t ask you to stay if I wasn’t sure I wanted you here.”
Lennox paused for a moment, and then said, “Fuck, I’m so out of practice at this. Just to be clear: you’re not talking about putting me on a couch, right?”
Elliot laughed. It broke the tension he’d been trying to build, but he had to. “No, no couches, unless,” he added slyly, “you really like the thought of bending over one. I’d much rather do you in a bed, though.”
“Mm-hmm.” Now Lennox’s voice had gone gravel-deep, and when he took Elliot’s hand it was all Elliot could do not to shiver. It had been a long time since a hookup had affected him like this before they’d even gotten undressed, and Elliot was enjoying every moment of it. He let Lennox tug him a bit closer as the man said, “And what makes you think you’re gonna be doing me in that bed, huh?”
“Just throwing it out there.” Elliot resisted the urge to clear his throat. Lennox pulled a little harder, until their bodies bumped softly together. It might be dark, but there was no hiding Elliot’s arousal when they were this close. He didn’t want to hide it, not when it meant he got to hear that sudden, gratifying inhale from Lennox. “We can do whatever you want,” he murmured, bringing his free hand up to Lennox’s neck. They were so near to the same height that it was easy to brush their lips in a kiss as he guided Lennox’s hand to rest on his lower back in a not-so-subtle hint. Lennox obliged and drew Elliot in tighter.
“Whatever I want?” Lennox almost purred, and Elliot was glad Lennox was holding on to him because he wouldn’t bet on his own legs doing a good job of keeping him up right now. “You sure about that?”
That was promising. “Why, what did you have in mind?”
“I’m thinking . . . I’d like to suck you until you scream,” Lennox said, and yeah, that was it for the knees. Elliot leaned harder against Lennox, sliding one hand up into his hair as he held on tight. “And then, if you manage to keep from coming for long enough, I might let you fuck me in your bed.”
Holy shit. Elliot had to shut his eyes and bite his own lip for a second, just to regain a sense of control. “Sounds like a plan,” he said at last, and his voice barely wavered. Barely, but it still did, and Lennox clearly heard it. He leaned in close and pressed his nose against Elliot’s cheek. It was cold, but it wasn’t the temperature that made Elliot shiver suddenly.
“Lead the way, then.”
Elliot pulled back far enough to turn away, but kept a grip on Lennox’s hand, dragging him impatiently up the porch stairs. He unlocked the front door and stepped inside, then punched the code into his keypad before his new alarm system dubbed him an intruder. Holly was at his feet in a flash, bouncing urgently back and forth, and he cursed under his breath. “I have to take her for a quick walk,” he said. “Otherwise she might explode.”
“That wouldn’t be a good thing,” Lennox agreed. “I can wait here for you.”
“No, no, go on upstairs.” He couldn’t quite believe he was sending Lennox into his bedroom alone, but balked at the thought of leaving him standing in the foyer or making him go back out into the cold. “It’s the second door on the right. There’s an en suite bathroom as well, if you need it.”
“I’ll try not to get lost.” Lennox laid his hand on Elliot’s chest, fingers slipping possessively into his shirt pocket and giving it a little tug. The heat was a brand even through his clothes. “Go, before she really does explode.”
“Yes. Right.” He headed for the back door.
It was a quiet night, the stillness broken only once by the hum of a passing car. It sounded like it was going slowly; the driver was probably lost. Elliot waited impatiently for Holly to sniff every bush, mark every tree and solicit affection every five feet before she was ready to go back inside. “You’re so demanding,” he informed her as he hoisted her into his arms and returned through the kitchen. “Honestly, I don’t know why I put up with you.” She licked his nose, and he smiled, then set her down and walked over to the stairs, butterflies unsettling his stomach.
It wasn’t the first time Elliot had had someone to his place for a fuck, but it was the first time he hadn’t picked that person up in a bar. He never invited people over that he actually knew. There was living a genuine life and then there was opening yourself up unnecessarily to pain, and Elliot liked avoiding pain. He didn’t mix the men he took to bed with the people he knew professionally, but this . . .
They didn’t really know each other, after all. Lennox had done a job, and Elliot had helped him out of a tight spot. So they’d screw and go their separate ways. It was good. It was all good. Besides, Lennox was in his room right now; too late to be having second thoughts.
Pleased with his mental logic, Elliot went upstairs and into his room. “I hope you didn’t get started without . . .” His voice trailed off as he took in the goddamn display Lennox was making of the room’s picture window. His shirt was off, belt gone, feet bare against the Turkish rug that covered the hardwood floor. The only light in the room was moonlight, and it had turned Lennox’s lean, muscular body into a dark silhouette edged with silver. Elliot wanted to trace him with his tongue.
“You don’t play fair,” he said once he’d picked his jaw up off the floor.
“Who says I’m playing at anything?” Lennox said, fingering the metal zipper of his jeans. “Maybe I always undress this slowly.”
I wish. “Keep this up and I’ll be blowing you instead.”
Lennox’s teeth gleamed as he smiled. “As nice as that sounds, I think we’ll stick with my plan. Come here.”
Elliot went, only pausing long enough to kick his shoes into the corner. They were way too expensive to be treated so casually, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about Italian leather right now. As soon as Elliot was within reach, Lennox grabbed his pocket again, only this time he jerked him forward with it, hard enough that Elliot skipped the last foot, collided with Lennox, and rocked him back onto his heels. Elliot’s arms wrapped around Lennox’s neck as Lennox pressed their hips together, but there was no chance for conversation this time.
Before Elliot could take another breath, his mouth had been claimed in a kiss, hot and slick and coaxing his lips open. This was no perfunctory kiss to warm him up before moving on to something better; this kiss was an event in and of itself, less of a warm-up and more of a bonfire. Stubble rasped against his own still-smooth skin and Elliot groaned at the feel of it.
He tried to hold on to a bit of his reserve, tried to hold a little of himself back so he could figure out his next move. Elliot prided himself on being a thorough lover, even if he never bothered with repeat visits. He satisfied people and then he satisfied himself, not the other way around. Lennox wouldn’t let him pull back, though, and didn’t seem interested in speeding up or moving on.
This was how he wanted it, then. That was an easy thing to indulge, and took some of the pressure off Elliot. He broke away just long enough to grin when Lennox’s hands shifted from where they’d been cupping his ass to tackle the buttons on his shirt. “Multitasker,” he muttered before diving back into the kiss.
“Nice to be appreciated,” Lennox said. He moved his mouth to Elliot’s neck while he tugged his unbuttoned shirt out of his pants.
“Mm, no marks, I have a lot of meetings I have to be pretty for.” It was impressive that he was
still able to speak coherently while he was losing his clothes and getting what was the start of a fabulous hickey in the crook of his neck. He wanted that bruise, but he couldn’t afford to have it right now.
“I bet Serena could cover it up for you,” Lennox suggested with a chuckle, but he left the spot he’d been worrying with his teeth, hot and tender and tingling, alone.
“Yeah, but I’d rather not have to talk to her about why I have a— Oh fuck, oh fuck, shit, you—” Because his belt was undone and his pants were unzipped and Lennox’s hand, wonderfully warm and rough, had wrapped around Elliot’s dick and stroked him from his slick tip all the way down to the base. Elliot was thick, but Lennox had long fingers, blessedly long fingers, holy shit. They clamped around him like a vise and kept a slow, steady rhythm as Lennox swallowed Elliot’s incoherent cries. The profanity he usually tried to forget rushed to the front of his brain, because it was deliciously fucking filthy for another man’s hand to feel this good on him.
With a little help from Lennox, Elliot clawed his clothes off, trying not to move more than an inch or two from where he was grinding his dick into Lennox’s hand. He went to return the favor, but only got as far as unzipping Lennox’s fly before the other man walked him backward until his legs hit the bed. Elliot went down and Lennox let him go, which was disappointing before he crawled back on top of Elliot and dragged him further up the bed, a wicked glint in his eye that gave Elliot actual shivers.
“Perfect,” he said before taking Elliot’s mouth in another kiss, using his teeth this time, bruising and harsh and absolutely perfect as he pressed their bodies together. He rubbed the pad of his thumb against Elliot’s nipple until Elliot honest-to-God whined, because this level of mastery over his reactions shouldn’t be possible for a man he barely fucking knew.
“How?” Elliot demanded as Lennox released his mouth and started to kiss a path down his chest. He was still rubbing, scraping the sensitive bump with his nail every so often, and Elliot wanted to shy back and to press into it at the same time. He almost reached up to drag the hand away before Lennox abruptly shifted to the other side, making his toes curl. “How’d you know?”
