Secretly Dating the Lionman

by Sue Brown

  “That would be great,” Cris said promptly. “I haven’t had good Thai in months.”

  Bennett smiled. “We’ll need to go into the city.”

  Cris clapped his hands over his mouth in mock horror. “Oh no. You’re making me leave Brooklyn?”

  “Can you do that?” Bennett did his best to look serious, but he was too busy trying not to laugh. “It’s okay, you know. I go to and from the city and I survive.”

  “I think you’re gonna regret it. You can take the boy outta Brooklyn, but you can’t—”

  “Yeah, yeah, I get it. Come on, Brooklyn boy, I’ll make sure you don’t offend the locals.”

  Cris started to follow him but stopped. “Wait!”

  Bennett turned with a mixture of curiosity and a touch of frustration. “Yes?”

  “Let me dump my bag behind the bar. I can pick it up tomorrow.” Cris vanished into Cowboys and Angels and dumped the bag in the locker room. He noticed Dan’s raised eyebrow as he emerged. “I’m going out with Bennett. I don’t want to lose my costumes.”

  “Okay. See you in the morning.”

  Dan turned back to his customer, and Cris made his way through the crowd again to reach the door. He sighed with relief when he was finally back on the sidewalk.

  “All done?” Bennett asked.

  Cris nodded. “Done. This Thai food better be worth me leaving Brooklyn.”

  “Dude, it’s worth leaving the whole damn state for.”

  “Lead on—”

  “Please don’t say Macduff.”

  Cris grinned at Bennett. “Would I do that?” He laughed out loud as Bennett rolled his eyes. “Come on. You have to, don’t you? Everyone says that.”

  He made his case all the way down the street until Bennett shoved him and told him to shut the fuck up. Then Bennett had to apologize to a family passing by, and Cris laughed until tears ran down his face.

  IF ANYTHING, the Thai hole-in-the-wall was even more jammed with people than Cowboys and Angels had been, but the minute Bennett was spotted by an elderly waiter, they somehow found a tiny table for two squeezed in the far corner.

  Cris waited until they’d settled before he pounced on Bennett. “They know you here?”

  “I come here most weeks. I love Thai food next to my mama’s cooking.”

  “That’s cute, in a Hallmark romance kind of way.”

  Bennett shook his head. “You’re not a blonde girl, and I’m definitely not a prince.” Cris eyed him for a long while, and Bennett went a little pink. “What?”

  “You’re a prince to me,” Cris said eventually.

  “That’s even more sickly sweet than the Hallmark comment.”

  Cris started laughing. “Yeah, I guess it was.”

  Bennett grinned, and they both snickered again.

  After a while Cris looked around. “Are they gonna bring menus?”

  “Uh… no. They usually just bring me what I like. I guess they’ll just bring more of it.”

  “Huh. What if I’m allergic to something you like?”

  “Are you?” Bennett demanded.

  “No,” Cris said reluctantly.

  “Well then.”

  Cris thought Bennett sounded far too smug. “I hope the food arrives soon. I’m ready to eat the table.” The rumble of his stomach was loud enough to reach Bennett.

  “You can wait.”

  But someone must have heard Cris, because suddenly the table was full of fragrant spicy food.

  Cris groaned as more and more little plates filled the table. “This looks amazing. Is this all for us?”

  Bennett heaped his plate with noodles and rice. “Yep. Eat up, because it tastes even better.”

  Cris would have replied but his mouth was full of spicy garlic chicken and vegetables. He figured Bennett would be eating the same food, so he didn’t have to worry about garlic breath.

  They didn’t speak as they ate. Instead they rushed to fill their stomachs and chased the last of the food in the bowls. They washed the food down with chilled Thai beer.

  Finally Bennett sat back, his hands on his stomach. “You like?”

  “I more than like.” Cris moaned in appreciation. “I think this was the best food I’ve ever eaten.”

  “I came here soon after I moved into the apartment, and I’ve never stayed away. I’d eat here every night if I could.”

  “Thank you for bringing me here.” Cris looked around and saw an eclectic mix of locals and tourists laughing and eating, enjoying the food and the ambience.

  Bennett pinked. “You’re the only person I’ve ever brought here.”

  “I am?” That thought warmed Cris.

  “It was kind of my place. I didn’t want anyone else interfering.”

  “So why did you invite me?”

  “I don’t know.” Bennett bit his lip.

  “You don’t?” Cris didn’t want to embarrass him, but he wanted to know.

  Bennett sighed. “I like you, Cris.”

  “Like me?” Cris teased.

  “Oh, fuck off,” Bennett said easily enough. “I like you a lot, okay?”

  “I like you too.” Cris grinned at him. “You’re so cute.”

  Bennett growled at him. “I’m gonna live to regret ever telling you this.”

  “Yes, I think you are.”

  “I wanted to share this place with someone special.”

  Cris leaned over the table and brushed Bennett’s hand. He wanted to kiss him, but he knew Bennett wouldn’t be ready for any public display of affection yet. Then again, they were touching hands. “Thank you for sharing it with me.”

  Bennett looked at their joined hands. “You’re welcome. Will you come back to my place?”

  “Now?” At Bennett’s nod, Cris said, “Yes.” He didn’t have to think about it.

  “I’ll get the check.”

  They argued briefly about who was going to pay. Cris was all for going dutch, but Bennett pointed out he was the one who’d invited Cris, and he was going to pay. Cris huffed and left a tip that was almost as much as the check. Bennett told him he was stupid, but Cris ignored him. Then Bennett waved goodbye to the elderly waiter, and they left, Bennett’s hand in the small of Cris’s back. So much for worrying about public affection. Maybe Cris should have taken that kiss.

  Cris snorted when Bennett opened a door next to the restaurant. “You didn’t tell me you lived upstairs.”

  “I said I lived close by.” Bennett led the way up the stairs to the fifth floor. “I learned to love Thai.”

  “I bet you did.”

  Then Bennett opened his front door. One minute Cris was standing in the hallway, and the next he was in Bennett’s apartment, up against the wall, and Bennett’s mouth on his. Cris let out a garbled whine and sank into the kiss.

  Bennett ran his tongue over Cris’s lips. “You taste so good—ginger and garlic.”

  “It’s a good thing you like both.”

  “I love the taste of spicy Cris.”

  “Kiss me again.”

  Bennett cupped his ass and hauled him closer. He ground his mouth on Cris’s, and they rubbed frantically, their hard erections pressing into each other.

  “Uh… Benny?”

  The last voice Cris wanted to hear interrupted his haze of arousal, and Bennett tried to yank away from his embrace.

  Chapter 9

  BENNETT TRIED to pull away from Cris again, but when it became clear Cris wasn’t going to let him move, he gave Cris a scowl and turned to stare at his brother. “Mikey? What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

  It didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize Mikey was in a bad way. He looked whiter than newly laid snow and had dark marks under his eyes. His mouth trembled, and he wrapped his arms around himself as though that were the only thing keeping him together.

  “I’m… sorry for interrupting you,” he said. There was a note of betrayal in his expression, and Cris winced as he realized what Mikey must be feeling. If he were in Mikey’s shoes, he’d feel
betrayed too. Cris had rejected him and then gone after his brother.

  Bennett looked between Cris and his brother, clearly torn about what to do. “I—”

  “It’s okay.” Cris finally let Bennett go and gently shoved him toward his brother.

  “What’s happened, Mikey? I thought you were gonna be at Mama’s.” Bennett looked at him and then went to Mikey, wrapped his arm around his shoulders, and led him into the living room.

  Mikey collapsed onto the sofa as though someone had cut the strings to his legs. “I was. I had an argument with her again. She won’t let it go.”

  Let what go? Cris followed them into the living room but stayed by the door and leaned against the doorframe. He didn’t want to interfere.

  Bennett tugged Mikey closer. “The wedding?”

  “Why does she have to push it all the fucking time?” Mikey clutched at his hair. It was damp and stuck up in spikes. “I love Mama, but she won’t give me a break.”

  “Don’t curse,” Bennett said automatically. “She just doesn’t understand why you’re stalling. You’ve been engaged for a long time. She just wants to see you happy and settled. You know what she’s like.”

  Mikey groaned and hid his face in his hands. “She’s not the only one. Julianne keeps asking me when we’re gonna set a date too.”

  “That’s… not surprising,” Bennett said. “They’ve been talking a lot recently, making plans.”

  “Why can’t they leave it alone?” Mikey let out a noise that seemed a cross between a sob and a shout.

  Cris sighed, and both brothers looked over. He wanted to walk over and shake some sense into them, but he knew it would just cause more trouble. “I think I should leave you two to talk.”

  Bennett looked troubled, but he nodded. “Can you get back okay?”

  “I think I can manage the subway.”

  “I’ll call you tomorrow,” Bennett said.

  “Sure.” Cris gave him a brief smile and looked at his brother. “Take care of yourself, Mikey.”

  Mikey managed a short nod, and Bennett mouthed, “I’ll call you.”

  With nothing left to say, Cris left the living room. He’d opened the front door when Bennett said, “Cris, wait.”

  Cris turned, only to be manhandled against the wall. He opened his mouth, but Bennett was there and thrust his tongue down Cris’s throat. Finally Bennett raised his head, his lips glistening and his eyes unfocused. Cris licked his lips. His voice was unsteady. “I thought we’d done this already.”

  “I know, but I didn’t want you to think….” Bennett scrubbed his hand through his hair. “I don’t want you to go, but….”

  “I know, I know.” The anger drained out of Cris, and he cupped Bennett’s jaw. The short hairs tickled his palm. “It’s okay. Go back to Mikey. Call me tomorrow. No, wait. I’m working all day now.”

  “I’ll come into Cowboys and Angels. I’ve got a meeting with my father in the morning about one of our projects, but after that I’m free.”

  “Okay.” Cris brushed Bennett’s lips and gently pushed him back. “Go on. Go be big brother.”

  Bennett nodded, but he waited in the doorway for Cris to reach the stairs before he closed the door. Cris jammed on his hat as soon as he reached the sidewalk and shivered in the cold night air. He stood for a moment, unsure of his next move. The cold was too much, and he contemplated finding a gay bar to dance his frustration away… and maybe something more. But even as the thought entered his head, he pushed it away. He had an early start at the bar the next day, and much as he’d like to dance and hook up with someone, he couldn’t push away Bennett’s face. Bennett was easing his way into Cris’s life, and he should walk—no, run—before he got his heart broken.

  “Too fucking late, Peters,” he muttered.

  An elderly woman holding a tiny Chihuahua cast him a suspicious glower, and Cris quit talking to himself and headed for the subway.

  The train was crowded, so he stood, squashed between a black man a good six inches taller than him wearing a spicy cologne and a stocky white guy immersed in a soccer game on his phone and oblivious to Cris and everyone else. For the first time, Cris felt really short. How the hell did even shorter people feel everyday as others loomed over them? He gave a sympathetic look to a tiny woman pressed up against the door by a large backpack, and she scowled at him. Cris sighed and went back to squinting at the stocky guy’s phone. He didn’t mind soccer when there was nothing else to watch.

  BY THE time he reached home, Cris was tired and grumpy. Aside from the meal, nothing had gone right that day. His mood wasn’t improved by a conciliatory message from Marlon on his voicemail—if telling Cris to get his butt into the club the following night could be called conciliatory. Cris deleted the message. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with his ex-manager. As he had his phone in his hand, he did remember to set an alarm and then a second one just in case. Mornings weren’t his thing.

  Cowboys and Angels wasn’t a long-term replacement job, but it would help for now. And Dan had a point—other clubs had been trying to headhunt him for a couple of years. Maybe he’d see if any of them were still interested in an old man. Marlon could take a hike. Cris couldn’t help a vicious grin at the thought of Marlon trying to run the show with just the newbies.

  The apartment was freezing, but Cris didn’t bother to turn on the space heater. Instead he warmed up by having a quick shower and changed into flannel pajama pants and a faded band T-shirt. He cleaned his teeth, collapsed into bed, and snapped off the light, but now he was wide-awake and restless. After a night in the club, he was usually very tired. Now he just felt frustrated.

  “Dammit,” Cris muttered as he rolled over onto his stomach and grabbed a pillow to hug close to him. He closed his eyes and tried to relax enough to sleep, but his brain wouldn’t stop whirring, mainly with the thought of Bennett, his face flushed with arousal. He’d looked beautiful. Cris could have watched him for an eternity.

  Just like at the studio, he wanted Bennett, and Bennett definitely wanted him. Bennett’s cock had been as hard as nails pushed up against his. If they’d stayed like that for much longer, one or both would have come in their pants just like before. His dick thickened at the thought of Bennett rubbing against him as he had, thinking of nothing but their pleasure for once, the usual worry on his face erased by arousal. Cris wanted that, but he wanted more too. He wanted everything with Bennett—fucking, sucking, whatever the man was prepared to offer him. But what would that be? A relationship in the closet? Hiding from his parents? Cris clenched his fists and dug his nails into his palms, but it didn’t stop him wanting Bennett.

  Almost unwillingly he rolled onto his back, pushed down his pajama bottoms, wrapped his hand around his cock, and jacked it slowly. Then he stopped, flung out a hand, and fumbled for the lube on the nightstand. He flipped the top, squeezed some onto his hand, and coated his shaft. Then he slid his thumb over the head of his dick and dipped briefly into the pear-shaped slit. Hissing at the pleasure, he squeezed his cock, jacked it long and slow, squeezed again, tried to imagine it was Bennett’s hand giving him pleasure as he had at the studio, compared Bennett’s roughened skin to his own.

  “Fuck,” Cris exhaled slowly. He closed his eyes again and sank into the fantasy of Bennett straddling his hips, Bennett’s hand around his cock, telling him to hold on to the headboard while Bennett brought him to orgasm. He grabbed the headboard with his right hand, planted his feet firmly on the bed, and jacked off faster until he was almost… not quite… fucking there. Cris yelled into the darkness as he climaxed and ropes of come spurted over his stomach.

  For a moment he lay in the mess of the bed, in sticky and sated contemplation, still not quite ready to let go of his fantasy. In his mind Bennett jacked over him until his come mixed with Cris’s. Then he collapsed beside Cris, breathless and chest heaving as he recovered his breath. The darkness seemed heavier, the room redolent of their come and sweat, their pants and gasps and….

  Cris
sighed. Perhaps he ought to take up writing romance novels. He sat up and found the tissues to mop himself up. Then he balled them up, aimed them in the vague direction of the trash can, pulled up his pajama bottoms, and settled back down to sleep. The buzz he’d felt before was muted, and though it took him a while, sleep finally took him away.

  THE DAMNED alarm was an unwelcome intrusion in his dreams. He turned it off and rolled over onto his front, burrowed under the blankets, and drifted back to sleep. He cursed and growled at the second alarm, but he forced himself to sit up.

  When he made sure both alarms were turned off and not left on snooze, he saw someone had left him a message. Expecting it to be Marlon, he tapped the screen.

  See you later.

  He smiled at Bennett’s brief message. Whatever was going on in his head, Bennett wanted Cris, and Cris would remind Bennett of that if things got tough. As he stared at the screen another message appeared.

  Get up!

  Cris growled but he was chuckling too. Bennett had remembered his comment about mornings.

  It was Saturday, and Cowboys and Angels was teeming with regulars and a surprising number of tourists. Cris didn’t have time to think as he served drinks and put up with Ariel’s endless teasing about his amateur skills as he poured beer, and helped Dan with deliveries. There was an issue with one of the pumps, and some of the regulars got a little restless at missing out on their favorite beer, but Dan told Cris to stay behind the bar while he went down to the cellar. One thing Cris was good at was dealing with a restless crowd, and he got them trying other beers and coming back for more.

  Gideon was sitting at the bar, going through what looked like invoices. At one point he glanced at Cris. “You’ve got good people skills.”

  “I take my clothes off for a living in front of hordes of drunken women. I have excellent people skills.” Cris grimaced as he remembered his current employment situation. “At least, I did have.”

  Gideon didn’t look surprised. “Dan told me what happened.”

  “I’m still not sure if he fired me or I walked out. Either way, I’m out of a job.”