Alluring Passion: A MM Contemporary Bundle

by Peter Styles

  How am I going to get through this?

  He found himself instinctively leaning toward Chris, who spared him a sideways smile and leaned over as well. His shoulder pressed up into the hollow beneath Chris’s arm and against his side.

  And that was how they watched the movie. Jeremiah just hoped Chris couldn’t see him sometimes closing his eyes. At least, that was how they watched half of the movie. Chris suddenly straightened up and placed one hand over his pocket, which was buzzing faintly but still loud enough to be heard by the other moviegoers. A few heads turned in their direction.

  “Hold my popcorn,” Chris whispered, passing the bag over. “I have to go take this.”

  “Oh… okay.”

  Jeremiah watched him hurry off down the theater steps and out through the exit. Now he was going to have to watch this by himself, without the safety net of another’s presence. The fact that there were others in the theater didn’t really help. They weren’t close enough, and he didn’t know them.

  He lasted for three minutes before giving up. He would just use checking up on Chris as an excuse for his inability to handle what was probably actually a pretty tame film.

  Still, he thought he felt the judgmental gazes of the others in the theater as he scurried out.

  The light in the hall of the theater was almost blinding compared to the stifling darkness. Jeremiah blinked rapidly, looking around to see if he could find Chris. He was nowhere to be seen, however.

  Wonder if he went to take a leak? Should I…

  If he didn’t check the bathroom, he risked looking like an idiot by making a big deal out of nothing. But if he did, he ran the risk of catching a glimpse of Chris’s Finley Jr., and he wasn’t sure how that would end.

  Just a peek, then. Not at Finley Jr., but into the bathroom.

  Feeling as much of a creeper as he possibly could, Jeremiah skulked toward the men’s room and padded quietly down the short-tiled hall to the corner. Keeping his ears peeled for any others who might stumble upon him acting so weirdly, he poked his head around and then immediately pulled it back again. The quick glimpse was more than enough. Chris stood leaning over the sink, face dripping with water as he fumbled for a paper towel.

  “Did you fall in?” Jeremiah asked, approaching. He grabbed a towel from the holder he passed and pressed it into his companion’s hand.

  Chris grinned his thanks and scrubbed his face dry. “I’m glad I didn’t. Their janitor needs to do a better job in here.”

  Jeremiah made a face, making an effort not to look at the line of open stalls behind them, or the wall of urinals. “Everything okay? You left kind of suddenly.”

  After all the other man’s openness, the last thing he expected was for a mask to fall across Chris’s features. It wasn’t a very convincing mask, allowing the stress beneath to still be seen, but it was still a mask. “I’m fine,” Chris snapped. Jeremiah flinched, about to put his hands up in submission, but Chris had already softened again and was shaking his head. “Sorry. That was kind of abrupt of me, wasn’t it? It was just my head bothering me. I guess I’m tired after working all day.”

  Markus never apologizes for snapping at me.

  “It’s okay,” Jeremiah said. He crossed the space between them and lifted one hand to pat Chris’s shoulder. His fingers tingled, but he didn’t ignore it this time. Instead, he left his hand where it was and let the tingles happen. “You’re allowed to be tired. You aren’t invincible.”

  “Ha. I think you’re the only person in the world who’s ever told me that.” A bitter look crossed the blond man’s face. “My… advisor… thinks I shouldn’t be getting into a relationship at all. Not that I’m saying we’re in one. I hope you get the point.”

  “I get it,” Jeremiah said. He didn’t want to let go. He tightened his grip on Chris. “I think we’ve missed enough of the movie so that there isn’t really a point going back in. Let’s get out of here.”

  They walked out of the restroom together, somehow finding their hands clasped together between them. Neither said a thing about it.

  “Do you want me to take you back to your car?”

  Jeremiah shook his head, tilting it back to look up at the sky. The city lights prevented stars from ever showing their brightness, but the darkness was so full of blinking planes and helicopters that it hardly mattered. “I don’t think I want to go back yet. Isn’t there anything else we can do?”

  “I think there might be a park nearby, although not really a big one. I think it’s called Paley or something.”

  “Is it smart to go walking so late at night?”

  “Is this a bad time to tell you that I’m always packing heat?”

  Jeremiah looked over at Chris, sitting there behind the steering wheel with a serious look on his face. He couldn’t help himself. “Your dick doesn’t count as a weapon.”

  It was a good thing traffic was low; Chris slammed his foot on the brake and then leaned forward, shoulders jerking with laughter. He couldn’t seem to get a breath, the sound hitching in his throat. Jeremiah laughed too, caught up in the funny sounds the other made. It felt so good to joke that he didn’t regret a thing.

  Lights from an approaching car drifted up the street behind them, urging Chris to move on again. His breath still shook, shoulders still jumping slightly. “Goddamn,” he said. “You don’t even know what caliber…” He stopped himself and shook his head. “I was going to make you laugh and everything when I pulled out this tiny pocket knife I carry around, but you beat me to it. Thank you, Jeremiah.”

  “Thank you for thinking you can protect me from a gang with a tiny pocket knife,” Jeremiah teased. “I like a confident man.”

  “It’s not exactly in a bad part of town, so we’ll be okay.”

  “Sometimes I think it’s all a bad part of town. Town is just bad in general.”

  Chris didn’t comment on that for a moment. Then he shrugged. “It’s not the location, or even the people. It’s some people, you know. But I don’t really want to talk about this.”

  “Do you feel like talking about business?”

  “Why would I want to?” Chris’s voice gained that sharp edge again. “I’ve done nothing but be a businessman all day. I want to just be a man right now.”

  “I thought it just might help you relax a little bit if you talk about what’s bothering you,” Jeremiah said, backpedaling rapidly.

  “I appreciate it, but no. And look. We’re here.”

  Paley Park was the definition of small. It was a few walkways around a thick, tight stand of trees, which all wrapped around a cobblestone area with tables set up inside. Chris got out of the car and headed off immediately down the nearest path, and Jeremiah hurried after him. He grabbed for the other man’s hand… and was completely taken aback when Chris gripped him tightly, crushing his fingers. It was a surprise more than it hurt, and his mouth opened to let out a startled squeak.

  The sound never had a chance to escape. Rough, furious lips crashed down against his, pressing hard. Chris had him by both wrists now, snaring him as his lips attacked.

  Jeremiah willingly gave in to the assault, closing his eyes just as they started to roll back in his head. His hands tingled. His blood pounded in his ears, pounding through his body; tingles were carried in on the flow, culminating in the areas where his pulse was strongest. He was on fire; flame and desire and need. His mouth opened for Chris, letting his wet, burning tongue in. When a thigh pressed firmly between his legs, he pressed eagerly against it and started thrusting his hips forward to rub his swollen member on the other. Chris’s scent wreathed around him, so powerful he didn’t know how he never noticed it before.

  His hands were released suddenly, as he felt Chris hold his ass and pull him in even tighter into the embrace. Their tongues fought between them, feverish with need.

  Raising his arms, Jeremiah wrapped them around the other man’s neck and then started to slide his fingers down his spine.

  And then he was gasping in ai
r, while Chris backed away with his chest heaving. Disappointment pulsed through his entire body. “Did I do something wrong?”

  “No,” Chris gasped out. “No. I just need to make sure you wanted that. Last time…”

  Jeremiah moved back toward him, led by the shaft in his pants that stuck straight out in front of him. “I wanted it. I—”

  But, Chris held up one hand, stopping him. “I’m glad. I’m so glad. I just… I’m not thinking clearly right now. I want to do this slowly. And right.”

  Nothing about this will ever be right.

  Turmoil rose up inside Jeremiah, choking him. The fire inside him, once stoked and blazing, was banked again. His heartbeat slowed. “Is there someone else?”

  He actually cared about that answer. He was also fully aware of the irony.

  “No!” Chris said, so fervently that he could only be believed. “Jeremiah, I’ve never wanted anyone but you this way before. I’ve had sex but you’re something else.”

  Jeremiah’s heart swelled in his chest. The fire was back, but behind his eyes now in a new form of moisture. “Then what’s the problem?”

  “I’ll explain to you when I’m ready. And that’s all I’m going to say.”

  It wasn’t good enough, but it was going to have to be. Jeremiah just nodded in response, and was rewarded with another kiss. This one was slow and tender, accompanied by a hand that cupped his cheek. He savored it, eyes closed.

  “I think we should go back to the car,” Chris murmured. His breath was hot. “And get you back to your car so you can head home.”

  “Chris… are we okay?”

  Those hazel eyes were almost as dark as his own at this time of night, but he didn’t need to see their color to understand the intent behind them. Though they shouldn’t have been, they were okay.

  Chapter 12

  If a man’s home is his castle, Chris’s was in desperate need of a team of maids. His natural inclination to be messy was something he had worked on endlessly while forming his company. It was Susan, who had been with him almost since the beginning, who helped implement the systems he used in order to keep everything organized. Still, she was always the one who kept him on track.

  He had nothing like that in his personal life. Add onto that the fact that he was a busy man, and he tended to seriously neglect his housekeeping. The sink was full of dishes, and the carpets needed vacuuming. Crumbs covered the top of the coffee table, and he had quite a few lightbulbs that needed changing. While he didn’t exactly live in filth, it occurred to him every time he had to wash out a new coffee mug that he might want to get a schedule sorted out for this aspect of his life too.

  Especially if, someday, Jeremiah came over. How embarrassing would it be to have that professional other, that meticulous man, wading through this cesspool of a bachelor’s apartment? Then again, that would be almost like a lie. Chris lived this way. It was nothing to be too ashamed of, was it?

  There was a lot of time to get that figured out, however. Jeremiah wasn’t going to come over so soon, and Chris wasn’t going to force him. You didn’t drag a unicorn to sex, you let him come to it on his own terms.

  The microwave in the kitchen beeped incessantly, informing him that his popcorn was done. Grabbing a red mixing bowl off the counter, Chris poured the contents of the bag inside and then headed back into the living room. Setting the bowl down on the aforementioned coffee table, he started to sit down on his couch to resume watching the news.

  Just as his rear touched the cushions, there was a knock at his door. He looked up, already standing again.

  Who could that be?

  Curiosity overtaking him, he said, “Coming,” and strode over to the door to open it.

  Jeremiah stood there, his face gone entirely the shade of a beetroot. “You will soon,” he croaked out, and then covered his face with one hand. “Oh, god. That was terrible.”

  “Yeah,” Chris agreed. “It really was. Maybe you should come back and try again.”

  Jeremiah turned around, clearly taking his advice seriously. Chris laughed and reached out, catching the other man by the shoulder and turning him back around. “Jeremiah. Please. Come in.”

  “Are you sure? I don’t want to interrupt anything.”

  Even while he spoke, Jeremiah was walking into the apartment and looking around. Chris did so as well and caught a glimpse of his surroundings from the perception of a newcomer. Nice furniture, terrible presentation. He winced. “Sorry about the mess. My maid is sick this week and, uh…”

  Jeremiah ignored him, wandering over to the windowsill and picking up a figurine. Chris had a thing for mice. They were adorable, petite, and yet surprisingly athletic. They were his choice of pet as a child; although he no longer had time for animals, he still remembered fondly the way they used their little paws like hands, and the varied color of their furry pelts. The figurine was one of many mice-related objects he kept around his home, although this one was different in that it wore a pink tutu.

  “Does this belong to your maid?” Jeremiah asked. He held the little brown mouse almost reverently, running one finger around the edge of the tutu.

  “I have a confession,” Chris said. “There is no maid. I like mice. And dancing.”

  “And horror movies.” Jeremiah set down the mouse again, adjusting its position with one finger. “You are a man of very peculiar tastes.”

  “I think they call that being gay these days.”

  The joke fell flat. Jeremiah didn’t even so much as crack a pity smile as he turned to face Chris, whose stomach went tense with nerves, although he immediately forced himself to relax again. Whatever happened was going to happen, and he had best accept it.

  “You know, I thought a lot about some stuff you said,” Jeremiah began. “About taking stuff slow.”

  “Alright. And?”

  Jeremiah stepped in very close, looking up. Light from the floor lamp over in the corner slashed across his gaze, revealing deep rings of oak brown in those dark irises. “And,” he whispered, “I’ve decided that’s bullshit. I don’t want to take things slow. I want to… I want to be with you.”

  There was so much weight behind those words. Immense weight. Chris’s heart swelled and his breath cut short. His eyes went wide. “You do?”

  Jeremiah nodded. “I really do. I’ve never… had anyone treat me the way you do. It’s just… Chris, there’s stuff I haven’t been telling you.”

  Chris nodded slowly. He realized that he had known that, even without having realized it. It seemed they both had secrets.

  “And I need to tell you. I just… I don’t know how yet. It’s really important, and—”

  If there was ever a time to interrupt, it was now. Chris reached out and placed his hands on Jeremiah’s shoulders, lowering his head slightly to touch their foreheads together. “Will it change the outcome?”

  “Huh?”

  “What you have to tell me. Will it change things in the end?”

  Understanding dawned in those dark eyes. “It might. But it doesn’t change what I want. What I think you want.”

  “Will not telling me be physically painful? Will someone be hurt, physically?” That was an important distinction, the difference between physical and emotional pain. If someone’s body was at risk, he couldn’t allow that to happen.

  “No,” Jeremiah replied. “Not physically. Maybe not at all. It’s hard to tell. I think I know, and then I don’t.”

  Chris nodded, pulling back slightly but not releasing the man in his hands. “Then, I’m not going to push you. I said I never would. I can encourage you, but I won’t push. This thing you have to tell me, you can tell me whenever you can. I’ll remember that you wanted to tell me sooner, and I will remember this conversation. I won’t hold it against you. I promise.”

  Time dragged on for a moment before Jeremiah nodded. “Okay. As long as you promise to remember.”

  “I will. Cross my heart.”

  Warmth surrounded him as Jeremiah wrappe
d his arms around his neck, clinging on tightly. Their bodies lined up almost perfectly, which meant their hips were pressed together. Chris swallowed hard, his arms around Jeremiah’s waist. He willed himself not to think about what was right in front of him, within very easy reach. He willed himself to do better than this, turning a touching moment into something sexual. This special man in his arms deserved better.

  “Chris? You’re poking me.”

  He turned his head, blushing just as Jeremiah had when he first entered the apartment. Everything suddenly clicked together. “Isn’t that what you wanted when you came over here?”

  Jeremiah looked down, but not before Chris saw a glimmer in his eyes. “Well, I was hoping the poking would be done in a bedroom.”

  “Well, it’s right down that hallway. Walk in front of me, so I can look at your ass.” It was a different side of him coming out now, the side that picked up hot men at the park and took them home. The difference now was that he wouldn’t be seeing Jeremiah walk away from him when they were done, and that was equal parts terrifying and erotic.

  Jeremiah gave a fleeting grin, eagerness and anticipation and worry in his eyes. He did just what Chris asked of him, heading off down the hallway. Chris grinned at the back of his head and then looked down, appreciating the way his ass moved beneath the fabric of his jeans.

  “You know, I kind of miss that suit of yours.”

  “Oh God, please don’t mention the suit. I had just managed to block that from my memory.” Jeremiah glanced into a doorway. “I see your bedroom is decorated in the same style as the rest of your house.”

  “I’m nothing if not consistent,” Chris joked. He broke his gaze away from Jeremiah’s ass, which would have been difficult if he hadn’t decided to take his shirt off at that moment. Fabric blocked his eyes as he pulled his shirt up and over, throwing it to the side.