by Ariel Tachna
“My turn?” He’d meant the words as a statement, but they came out as more of a question.
“If you want,” Pascal replied, “but tonight was for you.”
“This is for me,” Mathias insisted as he tried to remember how to make his hands work. He fumbled the buttons, but he finally got Pascal’s shirt off. He tugged on Pascal’s arm to get him to lean over so Mathias could lick one of his nipples while he worked open Pascal’s pants. He slid his hand inside, finding hot, slick flesh, and stroked up the hard length to tease the tip. He might not have Pascal’s acumen when it came to making every inch of skin an erogenous zone, but he knew what to do with a hard cock when he got his hand on one. He slid the foreskin back to expose the glistening tip and passed his thumb over the slit. Pascal froze and shook beneath the touch, spilling all over Mathias’s hand and stomach.
Mathias stroked him through his release automatically, head spinning at the thought that it hadn’t taken more than that simple touch to make Pascal lose it. He hadn’t expected it to take a lot, but he’d figured it would take more than that.
He cleaned his hand on the edge of the sheet and snuggled closer to Pascal.
“The things you do to me,” Pascal murmured against Mathias’s ear. “It really should be illegal.”
“The things I do?” Mathias parroted. “All I did was start to give you a hand job.”
“No, you let me spend all that time making love to you. Then you touched me. That was all I needed.”
Mathias didn’t see how that computed, but it obviously made sense somewhere in Pascal’s head because it hadn’t taken much of anything, and Pascal had proven he didn’t have a hair trigger usually. Somehow or another, in ways Mathias didn’t even pretend to understand, Pascal had gotten as much out of driving Mathias out of his head as Mathias had.
He snuggled closer. “I don’t want to go downstairs. My bed’s lonely without you.”
“Then don’t go.” Pascal tightened his embrace and kissed the top of Mathias’s head. “Just set your alarm early enough that you won’t be late because you slept here.”
“Really? You don’t mind?”
“I was going to ask you to stay. You just brought it up first.”
Mathias blinked a couple of times, trying to process his earlier fears about Pascal’s feelings to his mother’s reaction to them with this new knowledge. If Pascal wanted him to spend the night, he probably wasn’t considering whether he should keep the peace with his family.
“It’s not that hard a choice, is it?”
Mathias heard an underlying vulnerability beneath the teasing words.
“It’s not a hard choice at all. I was just thinking how silly I was earlier to worry that your mother’s reaction would cause problems. I’m new at the whole family thing.”
“She won’t remember it tomorrow, probably,” Pascal said. “When she’s lucid, she remembers all her other lucid times, but she doesn’t remember the times when she wasn’t lucid. And when she isn’t lucid, it’s anyone’s guess what she’ll remember. The next time she meets you, it will probably be like she’s never met you before but wants to because I told her about you on a good day.”
Mathias nodded and shifted a little to get more comfortable, which drew his attention to the fact that they were both still partially dressed.
“We should maybe finish getting undressed so we can sleep,” Mathias said.
Pascal chuckled and sat up. He stripped off his shirt and skimmed his pants down his legs. “Better?”
Mathias took a moment to ogle Pascal, only partially teasing. He still didn’t know how he’d gotten so lucky with his silver fox, but damn, he wasn’t going to question it.
“Much better.” He stripped quickly as well and sighed in contentment as he rolled back against Pascal.
“Alarm set?”
“On my phone. And it was fully charged before we left today. It will be fine.”
“Good.” Pascal reached over and clicked off the lamp. He shifted them on the bed until he could spoon behind Mathias. Mathias closed his eyes on the thought that as badly as the day had started, it couldn’t have ended any more perfectly.
Chapter 21
MATHIAS DID his best to pay attention to the conversation with his colleagues and the representative of the big corporate client they were trying to win over, but they had turned to discussing the latest plays on Broadway, something Mathias had no interest in or knowledge of. He kept one ear open enough that he’d hear if they addressed him directly, but most of his attention strayed across la Colombe d’Or to Pascal as he went about his duties. Mathias had hoped Pascal would be in charge of their table when Louis had told him he would be included at the dinner, but they’d been seated in a different section, with the manager himself dancing attendance on them.
Mathias still didn’t know how he’d gotten lucky enough to catch and hold Pascal’s attention, but in the two weeks since Thanksgiving, he’d mostly stopped questioning that he had it. He shifted on the chair, still feeling the lingering effects from their lovemaking the night before, when he’d pinned Pascal to the bed and ridden him hard… until Pascal flipped him over and gave him the pounding he’d been begging for. The memory had a predictable effect on his anatomy. He reached for his glass and took a sip of water to cool himself off a bit. He didn’t want to have to explain to his boss that he was getting worked up watching his lover across the room.
As good as the sex was—and it got better every time, not that Mathias could explain how—Pascal’s attentiveness was even better. They spent every free moment together, and Pascal seemed to be going out of his way to create those moments. They still had Tuesdays off together, but Pascal had joined Mathias for lunch a couple of times when he didn’t need to be at the restaurant until later, and he’d invited Mathias to stay any time Mathias was at his place late into the evening, or even if Mathias texted him from the bar and he was still awake. Mathias wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but he couldn’t stop from worrying that it was suddenly too easy. Daniel had treated him that way at first too.
The restaurant door swung open to admit a group of laughing women, one of whom was carrying a basket wrapped in cellophane with a big pink bow and helium-filled balloons attached. Mathias wondered which of them was having a birthday. If nothing else, they might be more interesting than the conversation that continued to drone on around him and safer than watching Pascal. He wasn’t likely to end up blushing from watching them instead.
Pascal came out of the kitchen and directly into Mathias’s line of sight. He waited, hoping Pascal would look up and smile at him as he’d been doing off and on all night, but Pascal didn’t glance his way. He started across the room toward one of his tables when he saw the women with the balloons. In an instant, the professional smile Mathias had been itching to erase all evening changed to the sexy smirk he always gave Mathias right before doing something to drive Mathias out of his mind.
Mathias swallowed around his own reaction to that smirk because it wasn’t directed at him. Pascal was heading directly toward the group of women with that look on his face. Mathias’s gut churned. It was Daniel all over again. He couldn’t make a scene. Not with his boss sitting only a few seats away. He couldn’t even excuse himself for a few minutes because he’d already done that not long ago, when watching Pascal had gotten to be too much. He had no choice but to grit his teeth and watch as the women greeted his lover with familiar kisses to the cheek and pats on the back. Then the one with the gaudy basket handed it to Pascal amid the raucous laughter of her friends. They made so much noise that it drew the attention of Mathias’s colleagues as well.
“I wonder what the occasion is,” Louis asked.
Mathias did his best to look uninterested as the others speculated what might motivate that kind of a gift to a waiter in a restaurant. None of the suggestions turned bawdy, much to Mathias’s relief. They all had too much riding on the outcome of the dinner to alienate their new client, but that
didn’t stop the sick feeling growing in Mathias’s stomach. He couldn’t watch this, whatever this was, but he couldn’t look away.
Pascal set the basket in the middle of the table and kissed the giver’s cheek again. He’d never given Mathias any indication that he was bi, but Mathias didn’t know how else to interpret what he was seeing. He’d met Pascal’s sister. Whoever this was, she had a relationship of great familiarity with Pascal, one she was allowed to indulge in public while Mathias had to sit on his hands and pretend he wasn’t being eaten alive by jealousy.
He couldn’t hear what Pascal said from across the restaurant, but the women all laughed again. He’d waited enough tables to tell when Pascal took their order, but his demeanor never changed back to the cool professionalism he’d demonstrated all evening, even when he left their table and headed back to the bar. Mathias tried not to be too obvious as he followed Pascal’s progress. At the bar, the bartender punched Pascal in the shoulder playfully. Pascal laughed and ducked his head a bit, giving every sign of delighted embarrassment at whatever the bartender said. Mathias had reacted the same way when Michel teased him about Pascal at Le Salon. He didn’t see how Pascal could be cheating on him with the unknown woman with as much time as they had been spending together, but he couldn’t make the pieces fit together any other way.
He tore his gaze away from Pascal and concentrated on his plate. The thought of eating only made his stomach roil worse, but if he didn’t, someone would ask what was wrong, if the food wasn’t to his liking, something, and he didn’t want to make a scene. If he could have figured out a way to leave early, he would have. He’d been looking forward to tonight, to seeing Pascal at work, but now he was wishing he’d found an excuse to bow out of the dinner entirely. Ignorance really was bliss.
PASCAL CARRIED the round of cosmos back to the table where his ladies were waiting. He couldn’t believe Martine had made such a spectacle of bringing him her latest book. No, scratch that, he could believe it. The wrapping for the Pascal St. Laurent books had gotten more outlandish with each successive release, but this topped them all. Balloons, for Christ’s sake. Then again, it had made him smile, which had always been the point—of the books, of the gifts, of the teasing, of the friendship itself. Sometimes he thought he’d never be able to repay his ladies for everything they’d done for him over the years.
“One round of cosmos for the table,” he announced as he passed them around.
“Where’s yours?” Camille asked. “We have to have a toast.”
Pascal laughed. “Okay, hold on. I’ll get Nick to pour me one.”
He headed back to the bar, only to be met with Nick’s smirk. “You forget something?” he asked, handing Pascal a fifth cosmo. “They always insist on buying one for you when they bring you a new book. I don’t know why you thought tonight would be any different.”
He hadn’t, really, but he also refused to assume on their friendship by having Nick make him one until they invited him. Nick had no such qualms.
He returned to the table with his drink. His ladies picked up their glasses as well.
“To finally getting what you’ve been waiting for,” Martine said, clinking her glass against Pascal’s before touching it to the others’ glasses as well. Pascal made the rounds as well and sipped the cosmo.
“Does this mean Pascal finally makes a move on Jack?” he asked Martine.
“You’ll have to read and find out, won’t you?” she said. “But what makes you think I was talking about the book? From what I can tell, you’ve finally gotten what you’ve been waiting for too.”
Pascal could hardly argue with that. “He’s here tonight, you know. You’ve now thoroughly embarrassed me in front of him.”
“Really?” Nicole asked. “Where?”
“Be subtle,” he hissed. “I don’t know if his employers know he’s gay, but even if they do, they probably don’t know about me, and I’m not going to be the one to out him at work.”
“We know how to be subtle,” Hélène replied.
Pascal snorted. “Yeah, about as subtle as a nuclear warhead. He’s sitting at the table of businessmen behind me. The youngest one at the table.”
“He’s cute,” Camille said. “You weren’t kidding about the young part. He’ll keep you young too.”
“What, no panther jokes?” Pascal teased.
“Not when he so clearly makes you happy,” Nicole replied. “You might think we were discouraging you.”
“And that’s the last thing we want to do,” Martine added.
“That deserves another toast,” Hélène said. “To Pascal and his new boyfriend, may they have all the happiness they possibly can.”
Pascal clinked glasses with them all again and took another sip of his drink. “Dinner, ladies? Or do you need more time to look at the menu?”
“Give us a little longer, if you don’t mind,” Martine asked.
Pascal smirked at her. “For you, darling, anything.”
They all laughed, as he’d intended. He picked up his drink and left them to make their decisions. He did have other tables that needed his attention, even if Simon had given him fewer than usual when he saw his ladies on the list of reservations.
Pascal glanced toward Mathias’s table, but Mathias wasn’t looking his way. He also didn’t look like he was having a very good time. Hopefully he’d get home in time to cheer him up a bit before they had to call it a night.
MATHIAS DUG his fingernails into the palms of his hands to stop from shouting when Pascal shared a toast with the women. Don’t make a scene. Don’t make a scene. Don’t make a scene.
He also couldn’t keep watching if he wanted to have any sanity left before the night was over. He’d confront Pascal when he got home from work and find out what was going on, but for now he had to think about something else. More than that, he had a boss and a client to impress, and he couldn’t do that sitting here moping because his boyfriend was flirting with someone else. He was better than that, and he was going to prove it. Pascal might not notice, but Mathias’s self-esteem demanded it.
He tuned back in to the conversation around him to realize that the topic had moved from Broadway shows to the Canadiens. He might not know anything about theater, but he could talk hockey. Determined not to give Pascal another thought, he joined the debate about who was the better team—the Habs or the Leafs.
MATHIAS MANAGED to keep his promise to himself for the rest of the evening, staying engaged in the conversation as it changed from topic to topic. A couple of times, he thought he caught an approving glance from his boss. Louis certainly smiled proudly at him every time Mathias met his eyes. He hadn’t looked across the restaurant at the table of women a single time, no matter how loudly they laughed nor how many times he’d seen Pascal approach their table out of the corner of his eye. He’d let himself get distracted early in the meal, but he wasn’t letting it happen again.
His boss paid the bill, and they all rose to leave. Mathias glanced around the restaurant under the guise of gathering his coat and briefcase, but Pascal had his back to him, attention firmly fixed on his table. Pushing down the hurt that Pascal couldn’t be bothered to acknowledge his departure, he followed the others out onto the sidewalk. When the restaurant shuttle left to take their client back to his hotel, the others scattered.
“I’ll walk with you as far as the métro,” Louis said. “You did great tonight. It’s not easy, being the new one at a dinner like this, but you stayed in the game. Mr. Belanger was impressed.”
“I’m glad,” Mathias said. “I was lost for a while there when they started talking theater. Not something I really know much about.”
“I bet if you ask Pascal, he’d help you remedy that.”
Mathias shrugged, not wanting to think about Pascal at the moment.
“Was he there tonight?” Louis went on, not picking up on Mathias’s mood.
“Yes. The silver fox waiting on the table of women with the obnoxious balloons,” Mathias said,
hoping his bitterness over that fact wasn’t too obvious.
“Oh, he is a good-looking one,” Louis said. “Well done.”
Mathias smiled as best he could, though it felt fake. Sure, Pascal was good-looking, but it didn’t help his mood to have that pointed out to him. The women had obviously found him much to their liking as well, and not just tonight.
They reached the métro stop and their different directions, saving Mathias from having to reply. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Have a good night,” Louis replied with a wiggle of his eyebrows.
Mathias should have laughed. Any other night he would have, but even if Pascal got home soon, Mathias wasn’t in any mood for what Louis had suggested. He waved instead and went through the turnstile for his line.
Louis’s laughter followed him down the stairs and onto the train.
Chapter 22
MATHIAS PACED his apartment, trying to calm down. There had to be a logical explanation for what he’d seen at the restaurant that night. Pascal wouldn’t cheat on him, not after making love to him so tenderly the past few weeks. Nobody could be that good an actor. Nobody. Except that he would have said the same thing about Daniel before that all went sour.
He needed to go upstairs and ask Pascal for that explanation instead of making accusations. He could say he’d seen Pascal with his friends, ask who they were, be the loving, curious boyfriend, not the jealous harpy he felt like on the inside. He could be adult about this. He just had to give Pascal time to explain. Once he’d heard the whole story, it would make perfect sense, and he’d be able to laugh at his overreaction. Pascal never had to know what seeing him flirting like that had done to him. It wasn’t his usual demeanor with customers, just with those specific ones. Mathias had watched him before they came in, and he hadn’t acted that way with anyone else. Pascal would tell him why he acted that way, and everything would be fine.
