by Nicky James
“How about you call it a night. You look exhausted.” I looked up from where I rested against his shoulder on the couch beside him where he worked on his laptop.
I knew he intended for me to take his bed again, but I wouldn’t have it. “I’m sleeping on the couch. You didn’t sleep a wink last night and I’m probably more flexible in that area than you. I used to sleep on the couch when I lived with Abel. I’m used to it.”
“You are a guest in my home. That’s not acceptable.” He stood and placed his laptop on the coffee table before offering his hand. I refused to take it.
“Nope.” I laid down across the couch and smiled. “See… I’m good here.”
“You’re stubborn.”
“You like it.”
He smiled and pulled the blanket down on top of me. “I do.” He lingered a minute more, simply watching. “Good night, mio tesoro.”
My heart swelled and warmed hearing him call me that. “Good night.”
When an hour passed and sleep refused to take me. I padded down the hall and crept into Remy’s bedroom. When I closed the door, I waited for my eyes to adjust to the dark before moving to his bed and crawling in beside him. I squirmed under his arm so he would hold me. In his half-asleep state, he drew me against his body and kissed my head.
“What are you doing, Caro?”
“Can I sleep with you?” I tilted my head up and met his sleep-filled eyes as he squinted in the darkness. “I’ll behave. I promise. I just want to be beside you.”
He smiled and brushed his lips to mine before sighing sleepily. “I could never say no to you.”
So that was where I stayed, locked in his arms, content and happy until morning.
Chapter Seventeen
REMY
I couldn’t keep him out of my bed. He depleted all my willpower and at the end of each day, there was nothing better than holding him in my arms while he slept. What became difficult, was not crossing those lines my body craved. Every night the heat turned up more and more. Kissing became intense as we fell into a rhythm of hands and mouths.
The hesitation I used to see in Soren’s eyes when we moved in that direction diminished. His actions weren’t forced or being done solely to please me. Desire grew in the depths of his blue eyes, but until he verbalized he wanted to take it further, I refused to push. And he hadn’t. Each time I drew us back from that line, he allowed it.
Maybe it was me who was being tested.
I would never ask for more than he was willing to give.
After our discussion the previous week, we’d both gone to the clinic to be tested. I couldn’t hide my concern and he couldn’t hide his shame. But we got through it and I eased his worry as much as I could.
It was Friday again, a week since everything had gone down at the club. That day was also Soren’s third and most important interview. The job I had no doubt would be his once Brent met him. I’d just received a text telling me he was finished and on his way back to the apartment. It was nearly five and although I had several things to finish up, I hoped to be out of the office in the next twenty minutes.
I’ll bring food home, I messaged back, don’t worry about making anything.
A minute later, I received Soren’s usual sass.
R U afraid I’ll mess up the kitchen?
I laughed and typed back, Yes, now sit on the couch and try not to touch anything, I’ll be home soon.
For a week, Soren had adamantly worked to turn my routine life upside down. For all that I craved order and maintained my compulsion for cleanliness, his immersion into my life had kept me on my toes. It was a good thing—for both of us.
His message came through almost immediately.
Make me! I have a sudden urg to run nakid around the apartmente and mess every thing up. Whatcha gonna do bout it?
I scrubbed a hand down my face and laughed, knowing his threats held merit.
Make you sleep on the couch.
That earned me three lines of laughing emojis.
I didn’t bother responding. If I didn’t finish up, I’d never make it home and he’d undoubtedly make good his threat and try to cook. Not that he was incapable, but he certainly couldn’t do it without leaving three hours worth of cleaning in his wake.
It was forty-five minutes later before I finally made my way out to the car. I sent a quick text to Soren letting him know I would grab Lavender’s take-out and be home shortly.
When I walked in the door twenty minutes later, I stalled. The lights were dimmed and Soren had plates, cutlery, and two glasses of wine poured and set out. He’d also moved the candles to the coffee table and—as was becoming his custom—he wore only underwear. Purple with a white band around the waist. Always colorful and never ashamed.
When he heard me enter, he shot off the couch and ran to me. I barely had time to put down the bags of food before he jumped up and wrapped his legs around my waist. “Surprise!”
Our lips collided and I stumbled back into the closed door. He didn’t stop and in an instant the heat expanded over my body, leaving the November cold I’d been feeling nothing but a memory.
When the kiss broke, he remained in my arms and I peered into the living room, quirking a brow. “We aren’t eating at the coffee table.”
“Yes, we are.”
“No, we are not.”
He took my face and snarled playfully. “Yes. We. Are. And I have something planned for after dinner too. Come on, I swear nothing bad will happen, and if we make a mess… Correction if I make a mess, because let’s face it you never make a mess… I’ll clean it up. I promise.”
It was exactly the way the entire week had progressed, and once again, I couldn’t say no, despite my mind wanting to rebel. He was good for me, even Alessio would agree if he knew the half of what Soren had convinced me to do.
“All right. But you make me crazy, you know that, right?”
He slid down my body and landed on the floor. Then he stretched up on his toes and pecked a kiss on my lips before smiling. “I know, but you like it.”
Do I ever.
Every part of my mind wanted to protest eating in the living room on the couch, and Soren knew that. So, he took the bags of take-out and made up our plates. Instead of watching him and stewing over what we were about to do, I went to the bathroom to clean myself up, trying not to over process the situation. I jumped in a quick shower and changed into something that was a little more comfortable—but more than underwear, since I couldn’t find the same liberation as Soren.
Once I returned to the living room, soft music played in the background and I looked for its source. I didn’t own a stereo system and rarely enjoyed more than a quiet environment.
Soren rose from the couch and nodded to the dark TV. “You didn’t even know you got music stations on your cable box, did you?”
“I didn’t.”
“Is it okay?”
I nodded and admired the spread he had set out. “You’re tense,” he added.
“You push me outside my limits all the time. I struggle, but it’s good for me.” I nodded to the set-up. “You don’t drink wine.”
“Nah.” He shrugged. “You can have them both. I was just aiming for symmetry, you know? Two plates, two sets of cutlery,” he picked up a wine glass and grinned, “two coasters and two wine glasses. Wouldn’t want you to develop a twitch or anything.” His humor softened. “But in all seriousness, is this okay?”
“More than okay.” Showing him I meant it, I motioned for us to sit and enjoy our meal.
Soren had already plated the food and wasted no time diving in.
“How did your interview go?”
Soren’s face lit up and he beamed through a mouthful of food. He was about to blurt out and tell me, but thought better and waited until his mouth was empty. I grinned internally, knowing that without even saying anything, my habits were rubbing off on him as well. We seemed to balance each other.
“Oh my God, Brent is amazing. We talked so cas
ually for the whole hour I was there. You didn’t tell me he was gay.”
“I didn’t think it was important.”
“Did you guys date? He seems like someone you would date.”
“No, not my type. Soren, your interview.”
“Right,” he scooped another mouthful and then realized he couldn’t talk, and tried to chew and swallow fast to continue. “The job is mine if I want it and the pay is amazing too, but that’s not the best part. He told me he works for a gay fashion magazine as well—I can’t remember the name of it—and he said I have the right looks, and he’d like to bring me in for a photoshoot next weekend as a trial, even though I haven’t a clue about modeling. Can you believe it?!”
I couldn’t hide my grin. Brent was a long-time friend and I knew the moment he saw Soren, he’d jump all over the opportunity of bringing him onto his team. Soren was gorgeous and his age, frame, and personality were exactly what I knew Brent went looking for in a model. I’d been hopeful that Soren’s interview might turn into more.
“That’s incredible. So, I assume you accepted the job?”
He nodded and chewed his next mouthful of food, grin permanently fixed to his face. “Will you come with me? Next weekend? He said you’re welcome to come along. I guess he’s doing a dinner party exclusive piece or something shoot and I’ll be wearing a fancy tux. They’ll do my hair and make-up and everything. Then I’ll get a few lessons on what to do. He thinks I’ll be a natural.”
He bubbled with excitement and it warmed me to my core to hear him so elated over a new opportunity. All through our meal, Soren shared about his day. Seeing him separate himself from the club and take on new things made him beam, and it was so refreshing watching the weight lift off his shoulders.
I had news for him as well, but with his steady enthusiasm and good mood, the last thing I wanted to do was bring up dark subjects. The police had shut Donny down only a few hours earlier and were in the process of gathering the other employees for questioning. Whether they would talk was anybody’s guess, but with luck, the case would be strong enough with Soren’s testimony alone. Alessio was keeping me posted and I knew eventually I needed to let Soren know.
After we finished eating, Soren handed me the second glass of wine. “Sit tight and let me clean this some.”
He proceeded to relocate all the dirty dishes onto the dining room table in a haphazard pile.
“That’s not cleaning and if that’s all you’re doing, you know I can’t sit here and watch.”
“Yes, you can and you will. I’ll worry about it after.”
“Soren—”
He spun and jutted out a hip with a hand firmly placed on top. With the other, he placed a finger to his lips and shushed me. “Calm yourself. They won’t grow legs and take over the world. They are a few dirty dishes. I’ll clean them after.”
I bit back a smile at his sass and narrowed my eyes, attempting to look serious. “Can we at least move them to the kitchen so I don’t need to stare at them? They are distracting.”
He laughed and rolled his eyes. “No! Deal with it.”
“You make me—”
“Crazy, I know and you love me for it… Like!” His eyes widened. “Like me for it!” His gaze darted the room before landing on the coffee table again and he jumped into action.
He removed the remaining few items from the coffee table until it was empty. I leaned back with my wine and made a conscious effort to ignore the pile of dishes off to the side of my vision and focus on the man, seemingly flustered by his slip-up, as he raced around the room.
Nothing he ever did set me off and perhaps his comment was more true than both of us knew. Considering we had a number of things un-discussed and un-explored between us yet, I understood his discomfort.
When the table was clear, he grabbed the TV remote and flipped through the music channel options. He concentrated hard on each selection, determination on his face.
“What is it you are looking for?”
He dashed a look over his shoulder and smiled. “Something.” When he turned back and continued to scroll, he spoke again, “This is the first weekend I don’t have to go back to Donny’s, and I realized today that, as much as I hate almost everything about that place, there is one thing I’m going to miss.”
“Dancing?”
He clicked the button on the remote and a new song started. I glanced to the selection; “Sex You” by Bando Jonez. With my lack of music knowledge, especially the newer stuff Soren’s generation listened to, I was unfamiliar with it. But once it began, his intentions were clear.
He slid the remote on top of the TV cabinet, and I was about to protest that wasn’t where it went, before he turned. The look in his eyes made all my arguments fall away.
“I love dancing and the idea that I won’t get to do it anymore bothered me. But then I thought. Why can’t I just dance for you?” He stepped up on top of the coffee table and began rolling his hips with the music, trailing his hands over his waist and down his thighs. “No one has ever had a personal show from me, Remy. I’ve never allowed it and we don’t give lap dances. But, I’m not at work anymore and I can do what I want.”
I was stuck in a state of stunned shock, wine glass idle in my hand, staring up at Soren as he swayed and moved teasingly in front of me. His skin glistened in the low light and I immediately noticed he’d used his glittery body lotion.
He bit into the corner of his bottom lip and peered down with lust so thick I became stuck in his hold.
“Would you like your own show?”
I nodded. I’d advanced carefully thus far, but I wasn’t an idiot and my body responded and heated to his actions.
He closed his eyes and like every time I’d seen him dance before, he let the music take him away. The curve and definition of his lithe muscles came and went as he moved. When he ran his hands lower, over his inner thighs, it was hard not to be drawn to the mound in the front of his briefs. Everywhere my gaze landed was an overload of sensation being thrown on top of an already expanding heap. My mouth dried, but instead of taking a sip of wine, I rested my glass on the end table beside me and reached out for him, drawing my hands up his legs.
He grinned before squatting, knees bent on either side of my head, aligning himself perfectly so I stared at the only part of his body that was covered. With no control left, I couldn’t look away.
He took my face and redirected my gaze to his. “Do you want a lap dance?”
I could only nod as I took a firm hold of his backside and drew him onto my lap. He didn’t stop moving with the music, despite my inability to keep my hands to myself. His skin was soft and I couldn’t stop touching him everywhere.
When he began grinding himself against me, creating friction, and his hands moved up my shirt, the music was forgotten. He was as aroused as me, and the evidence was being pressed against my abdomen with each rock of his hips.
He lifted my shirt over my head, tossed it aside, and brought his lips to mine, kissing me with desperation and eagerness. I encouraged it, forgetting my determination to take things slow. With his repetitive motions, my own arousal grew. I held his hips as he swayed and guided him lower to press my own hardening length against his backside through the thin fabric of his underwear.
Soren broke the kiss and stilled, watching me, his breathing erratic. He swallowed hard before speaking.
“Why won’t you fuck me? Every damn guy who ever came into that shithole club wanted nothing more than to fuck me and yet you don’t seem to want to. Why? I don’t understand. And of all of them, you’re the only person I want.”
His forehead creased and the sadness and hurt in his eyes nearly broke me. Moving a strand of his blond hair aside, I caressed his cheek, cupping his face.
“Is that really what you think, Caro?”
He shrugged. “I’m confused.”
I brought his face to mine and kissed him once before resting our foreheads together.
“Let me tell you somet
hing.” I inhaled a deep breath of berries and a scent that was Soren’s alone. “You mean more to me than that. All those experiences, all those men, they didn’t care at all for you. If they had, they would have seen in your eyes that it was the last thing you wanted to be doing.” His blue eyes watched and waited for me to go on, searching for the answers I just realized he hadn’t seen.
“I desire you like no other. But I don’t want to fuck you, I want to make love to you, and that is very different. It is not one man or another enjoying a meaningless act, it is two people sharing an expression of their feelings for one another. And until you are ready, I will wait.”
He didn’t move. I wasn’t sure he breathed. His irises shimmered as they became glassy pools and his hands slid up my bare chest to loop around my neck. Then he pressed his forehead to mine and whispered, “Will you make love to me?”
A static coated my skin as my pulse accelerated and roared in my ears. “Yes,” I breathed.
I enclosed his body in my arms and kissed him again, pinning us together as I explored his mouth and tongue with my own.
It didn’t take long for the heat we’d been growing to re-spark, and before long, his body began to move against me again. My hands wanted to be everywhere at once. His skin was the perfect combination of soft and hard and I smoothed them over his back and down his arms as our tongues found the rhythm of a dance unto their own.
Soren’s growing erection continued to grind against my abdomen as he skillfully moved so his backside also pressed against my erection with each rock of his hips. The confines of my jeans made my elevated interest uncomfortable. I slid two hands under his bottom, cupped his ass, and lifted him off the couch easily. He had hardly any weight to him and instinctively, he wrapped his legs around my waist like always.
Our lips remained connected as I moved us down the hall to the bedroom. Soren slid off the moment we arrived, breaking our kiss. He peered up as he unbuttoned my jeans and lowered my zipper. “You’ve never been without clothes in front of me. Not even just your underwear.”
He pushed my pants past my hips and they dropped, aided by gravity, to the ground, pooling around my feet.
