Acrobat

by Mary Calmes

  “What are you—”

  “You and Michael, you’re my home.”

  I was?

  “Yes,” he said as though I’d spoken the question aloud.

  As he stared at me with his hooded eyes, licked his dark, swollen lips, and I heard how heavily he was breathing, I shivered hard. I would have let him have me right there if he wanted and not thought twice about it. I wanted him desperately. I jolted against him as his hands went to my belt, the buckle jingling as he worked it open, then the button of my pants and the zipper.

  “Nate,” he moaned as his fingers encircled my leaking cock.

  I shuddered hard, willing myself not to come, not to spurt over his hand and onto the front of his pants. I never lost control, but I was teetering on the verge of it. “You have to stop or I’m going to make a mess all over you.”

  “Go ahead,” he said, tugging on my shaft, squeezing. “You’re… this is so beautiful.”

  I gave in for a moment to the feeling, to the sizzling electricity sparking over my skin, up my spine, rushing through my body as I pushed in and out of his fist.

  “I wanna suck you so bad—gag myself with this.”

  I was drowning, and I could not recall the last time it had happened so completely.

  “Voglio fare l’amore con te,” he whispered into my hair.

  “I don’t—”

  “I wanna make love to you.”

  “Fuck,” I growled, reaching for him, hand on his sweater, the other wrapped around his neck, pulling him back down to me so I could shove my tongue down his throat.

  He straightened up, releasing my leaking cock, his arms wrapping tight around my waist instead, and he pressed the length of his body to mine. One hand went down the back of my pants and cupped my right cheek.

  “You are so hot,” he groaned softly in my ear. “I knew you had to be something under all these clothes, but goddamn, Nate. I want you so fuckin’ bad.”

  It was all I could think of.

  “I bet you like it deep and hard, don’t you?”

  I whimpered in the back of my throat. “Oh yes.”

  He growled as he pressed against me tighter. “I want to feel your skin… all of it.”

  I feasted on his mouth, and he kneaded my ass, both of us rubbing, grinding, until I got my hands wedged on the carved chest and shoved him away hard.

  We stood for a moment, both of us gasping, heaving for breath.

  “What the fuck?” he panted.

  “If we keep this up, I’ll be begging you to fuck me right here in the laundry room.”

  His brown-black eyes, fringed with the long, thick, feathery lashes, just stared at me.

  “Come home with me and get in my bed. Let me show what it can be, and then let me hold you after all night long. Don’t go home. Stay with me,” I pleaded.

  He looked me right in the eye, held my gaze, and studied my face.

  “Please.”

  After a long minute, he nodded. “I’ll find Michael and meet you at your car.”

  Even as I was talking, I never expected him to agree. That he did, that his eyes roamed all over me, hot and possessive, that he gestured me close and when I moved, he took my face in his hands and bent to kiss me again…. I was overwhelmed. He was so young and yet not afraid of what he wanted, willing to see what passion would bring.

  I went boneless and pliant in his arms, letting him control the kiss, suck on my lips, tangle his tongue with mine, and hold me in his arms.

  “You are so beautiful.” He spoke the words against my mouth. “Please don’t change your mind; please don’t say no to me when we get home.”

  The word no never entered my mind.

  Chapter 9

  I LOOKED the other way when Michael got in the car, and only turned back when he closed the door and the light went off. I had gone out the back door and around the side of the house because I knew what I must have looked like.

  Clothes rumpled, hair tousled, lips dark and red and swollen, I looked like I’d been ravished. Dreo looked the same, but I was flushed, and when I got to the car and checked the mirror, my pupils were dilated like I was on drugs. Anyone older than eighteen would know exactly what they were looking at. Luckily for me, Michael, still young and virginal, had no clue.

  “You all right?” he asked, worried. “You look all hot.”

  I cleared my throat. “I’m fine.”

  “I thought Dreo was coming with—oh, here he comes.”

  Michael opened the car door, and I felt like the spotlight was back, but I watched Dreo coming toward the car anyway. And he was ready to give his uncle the front seat, but Dreo waved at him to stay put. He climbed in the back, and Michael closed the door at the same time.

  “Let’s go home,” Michael said. “I’m ready for Friday night Kung Fu Theater.”

  “No homework?” I asked.

  “Homework is for Sunday night, not Friday night,” Dreo informed me. “Give the kid a break.”

  “Yeah, Nate, gimme a break.”

  “Okay.” I sighed deeply.

  “Besides, we all have to be up early for the funeral tomorrow. It’s going to be a long day.”

  The thought was sobering.

  “So,” Dreo said softly, leaning forward between the seats. “I think maybe until the cops figure out what’s goin’ on with everything that I’d like you and Nate in the same place, where I know you’re both safe.”

  Michael turned to look at him. “Does that mean we’re gonna stay with Nate tonight?”

  “If he’ll have us,” Dreo said softly.

  “I’ll have you,” I said, my eyes flicking to the rearview mirror. The dark eyes were there, the gaze hot and unwavering, and even though I wasn’t even touching him, I was suddenly breathless.

  “Hey, let’s stop at the store for Red Vines and popcorn and stuff. Nate puts M&M’s in his just like you, Dreo.”

  I chuckled and turned my head for a second to look at Dreo, only to find him looking at me. “You like M&M’s in your popcorn too?”

  He nodded, and his smile, curving those beautiful lips of his, made my stomach flip over. “I do, but only the plain ones.”

  “Of course.”

  He shrugged.

  “That’s funny.”

  “It’s good.”

  At the store, I was down the wine aisle looking for a red to go with the roast I had just told Dreo and Michael I would make on Sunday night.

  “It’s stupid.”

  “It’s not.”

  I looked sideways, and there was a very cute couple, perky little brunette with a button nose and a guy holding her hand who, from the eye rolling, thought his girlfriend was nuts but was still enchanted with her.

  “You don’t have wine with mac and cheese, it’s just dumb.”

  “Excuse me,” she said, hand closing on my bicep.

  “Kate,” he warned her, eyes flicking to mine as he smiled.

  “Yes?”

  “If you were having wine with mac and cheese, what would you serve?”

  “I’m not an expert,” I assured her.

  “Yeah, but you have a bottle in your hand already, so you’ve obviously picked something. I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

  Since she was asking…. “Well, with mac and cheese, you’d probably want something light, so I would probably go with a Chablis, because the minerality of the wine goes well with both pasta and cheese.”

  They were both looking at me.

  “See.” The girl turned to her fiancé; I saw the diamond then. “Told you.”

  “Okay.” He smiled, throwing up the hand not in his fiancée’s in defeat. “Apparently you can have wine with it, so which one, if you don’t mind picking?”

  I didn’t realize we had been overheard by another couple, but when I handed them a Chablis I liked and they thanked me, another man leaned in and asked me to suggest a strong red to go with the steaks he was making for friends. I told him I didn’t work at the grocery store, but he as
ked me to humor him, and his wife’s eyes behind him were huge, like dear God, please.

  “I picked this wine last time, and my wife said it was really tannic. It was a cabernet or a cabernet merlot blend, I don’t remember, but no one liked it.”

  I nodded, and his wife fluttered her eyelids. “It was terrible.”

  The man groaned, I chuckled, and his wife threw up her hands.

  “Should I lie, Ed?”

  He looked back at me for help.

  “Well, you can’t go wrong with a Côtes du Rhône,” I suggested, walking over to where they were. “It won’t be heavy, you know?”

  “Thank you.” He smiled, taking the bottle I passed him. His wife squeezed my elbow, and they left.

  “Nate?”

  Turning, I found Sean Cooper and a man I had never seen before in my life. It took a minute for me to understand what was going on.

  “Who’s this, Seanie?”

  Seanie? Why not shorten his last name? Coop would have made more sense than Seanie.

  “This is my old English professor from college, Dr. Nathan Qells.”

  Old? Old had to be thrown in?

  “Hi there, English professor.” The very attractive man smiled and leaned forward, offering me his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Bryce, Bryce Easter.”

  “Pleasure, Bryce,” I assured him, taking his hand.

  “So, English professor, huh?” He chuckled, smiling at Sean before turning back to me. “So tell me, how many classes did you have this guy in?” he asked, wrapping his arms around Sean’s neck.

  “Just English 101.” I smiled, surveying them. They made a nice-looking couple and I wondered if this one was the same man from the restaurant a few nights ago. If he wasn’t, then the good doctor certainly made the rounds. Sean would have had more dates in one week then I had in three. But really, there was nothing wrong with it if he was or wasn’t. Just as I had told Michael and Danielle that night we saw him out, you had to date many to make an informed decision on whom you wanted in your life.

  “May I speak to you a minute?” Sean said, taking hold of my bicep and leading me halfway down the aisle, away from Bryce.

  I turned and looked at him.

  “I thought I would give you a couple of days to cool down. You seemed very upset the last time we spoke.”

  I found that I didn’t even have anything to say. It wasn’t necessary. We were not going forward—it was done, and we both knew it. Our schedules and lifestyles—neither were compatible, but it had nothing to do with age and everything to do with priorities. Michael, and now suddenly Dreo, were bigger priorities in my life than dating, and medicine was more important to him than I was. I completely understood.

  “I think our timing is off,” I told him, smiling. “Don’t you?”

  He stared at my face, and I could tell he appreciated the honesty. “I do.” He sighed heavily. “I feel like I’m pushing something that just doesn’t want to go.”

  “Me too,” I agreed, “but thank you, it was so very flattering.”

  There was a quick shake of his head. “You just don’t even get it.”

  I didn’t even care enough to delve—would have, in fact, just squeezed his shoulder and walked away.

  “You done playing wine connoisseur back here?” Dreo teased me, his voice carrying down the aisle.

  I turned and found myself admiring his stride as he closed in on me, the confidence, the breadth of his shoulders, and the curve of the smile on his lips. Funny that I had never really looked at him before the last week. I had completely missed the man.

  “What are you—”

  “We’re ready to go,” Dreo said gruffly, taking hold of my arm. “Come on, we’re going home.”

  He sounded very possessive, very matter-of-fact, and I found that despite a lifetime of thinking that I would hate it, the exact opposite was true. In all my relationships, the men I had been in them with had espoused partnerships and balance and equality. No one belonged to anyone, no one was the leader, and while I appreciated it, having someone manhandle me just a little was nice too. Even big alpha dog Duncan Stiel had never told me how things were going to be anywhere but in bed. He was never demonstrative in public, and I had no idea that I had been missing anything until then. Dreo Fiore, who was younger than me, was letting me know from the timbre of his voice, the look in his eyes, and the pressure of his grip on my bicep that if I didn’t move, he would move me.

  It was hard to concentrate with him so close to me. I got that almost queasy feeling in my stomach.

  “Nate?” I heard Sean say my name.

  “Who’s this?” Bryce asked as he joined us.

  “Hi,” Dreo said cheerfully, turning to look at the two men as he let me go only to put an arm around my shoulders and pull me in close against him. “We met at the hospital that night Nate was there,” he told Sean and, in turn, Bryce.

  “Yeah,” Sean said hesitantly. “I… wasn’t….”

  “Nice to meet you,” he said to Bryce. I tried to smile even as the delicious heat from Dreo’s body flooded my senses.

  “And you,” Bryce said with awe in his voice, staring almost openmouthed at Dreo. I understood; the man really was just stunning. And Sean was gorgeous, and Bryce himself was very attractive, but Dreo was sexy and dangerous, and that, added to the beautiful that he already was, made him absolutely breathtaking.

  “You’re together?” Sean asked, giving me a look.

  “’Course.” Dreo smiled lazily, tightening his grip on my shoulders.

  “Are you guys exclusive?” Bryce asked, looking at us both.

  Dreo laughed, kissing my ear before letting me go. “Sì, lui è mio,” he finished before walking away to go look at something.

  “What did he say?” Bryce asked brightly.

  “Something like ‘he’s mine’,” I said, because even though I wasn’t exactly sure of the translation, I knew possessiveness when I heard it.

  “How long have you been dating the mobster?” Sean asked snidely.

  “It’s not important,” I assured him, offering Bryce my hand. “It was good to meet you, and to catch up with an old student.”

  “Wonderful to meet you as well, Nate. I wish my English professor had looked like you.”

  It was nice of him to say, but I didn’t even have time to care. I had to find Dreo.

  He was on coffee aisle looking for something, and when he turned to look at me, I realized I was getting a very wicked smile.

  “What?” he asked as he dropped chicory coffee into the basket I was holding.

  “You like chicory?”

  “Since you made it that time for me, yeah, I like it. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” I said, rubbing my eyes. “You were very charming back there.”

  “I can be.” He grinned, taking hold of the lapel of my peacoat and pulling me after him.

  We walked down another aisle, and I got portabella mushroom soup. He chuckled and moved in close to me, bumping me with his shoulder.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. You didn’t get freaked out, did you?”

  “No.”

  He nodded, took a quick breath. “That’s good.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Unlike that man back there, I don’t date many, only one at a time. So if I’m in your bed, then I’m the only one who is and you’re the only one in mine. Are we clear?”

  “We are. But for the record, Sean Cooper and I never went to bed, and—”

  “I don’t care about then,” he told me. “I only care about now. Are we gonna do this?”

  I looked at him. He’d asked the question so matter-of-factly, but the look on his face, how steady his gaze was, betrayed something else. I answered honestly. “I’d like to. You?”

  He nodded. “Okay, then.”

  “But we should, you know, have sex before we move in together, huh?” I teased. “I mean, what if you hate it?”

  His eyes flicked to mine, and
I knew right then that I was playing with fire even before he stepped in close to me so I had to tip my head back to see his face. “I have thought of nothing for over four years but putting your legs over my shoulders and being buried inside of you,” he said, his voice husky and low, sending tendrils of heat through me. “I don’t think me hating it will be the problem.”

  I had to breathe. And when he smiled… the new development that he was gifting me with, from hard, cold man to mischievous, eye-sparkling lover, was overwhelming.

  “Come on.” He grabbed me, arm around my neck, pulling me close. “I wanna get home and go to bed.”

  My heart stopped.

  “I can’t wait to find out what you taste like.”

  “You shouldn’t say things like—”

  “I should,” he whispered, leaning in, his breath hot and moist on my ear before he sucked the lobe into his mouth, biting lightly before moving. His lips moved behind my ear, so quick, the motion finished before we cleared the end of the aisle and met Michael.

  “You still look all red,” the younger Fiore told me, tipping his head to the side. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  I was, in fact, covered in goose bumps from head to toe.

  “He’s fine,” Dreo told him, hand on the small of my back, pushing me forward. “Come on.”

  Everything was whirling around, so when I came out of the store and turned left, I crashed right into the guy standing there because I wasn’t looking where I was going. There was only Dreo in my head.

  “Oh, sorry,” I apologized, moving around him.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he snapped, shoving me back hard.

  There were three guys, and they were all suddenly too close, yelling, threatening, and I was wondering what the hell was going on when I was yanked back and Dreo was in front of me.

  “Let it go,” he told them.

  “Fuck you!”

  Dreo didn’t say anything, and because I had been defending myself since I was ten years old, fighting my own battles, I moved around him in time to see the first guy come at him. He was fast, though, my champion, and before his attacker could land a punch, Dreo kicked him in the knee. The man fell forward onto the sidewalk, and as soon as he went down, Dreo kicked him hard in the ribs to make sure he stayed there. With the noise the guy made, I was guessing that getting up was not going to be an option.