by Lynda Aicher
“What did you do?” The accusation was expected. “Or not do?”
“To my knowledge, I did nothing wrong.” He took a breath and forced his voice to remain steady. “He didn’t say anything to me last month.”
“You’ll have to make up the income loss.” Carter had anticipated that. “I’ll line up some more customers for you since you can’t keep your own.”
He didn’t respond, and the beep on his phone told him Hank had hung up. Thank God. He let out the breath he’d been holding and carefully set his phone down. It was worth it. There was no way he could return to The Den. Whatever Hank threw at him would be better than having Rock watch him in action. Again. He wouldn’t do that to either of them.
Contacting his client and informing him he was done with the BDSM club had been easy. The money hadn’t factored into it at all. The client had been disappointed but understanding. He wasn’t a jerk and had even agreed to keep his cancellation vague with Hank. Carter owed the man.
He checked the time. Rock would be there soon. Another glance around the kitchen showed nothing out of place. He moved to the living room, straightening the stack of photography magazines for the tenth time.
It was just Rock, but it was his first visit. He couldn’t shake the nerves that had him fluttering around like a damn hummingbird. His jitters were worse than his first time with a john, which was ridiculous.
He took a deep breath, closed his eyes. The bathroom. He sprinted up the stairs and into his master bath, heart pounding. He grabbed a hand towel out of the linen closet and kneeled down to open the door under the second sink. It wasn’t like Rock would go snooping in his cupboards, but just in case, he threw the towel over his box of enema supplies. Sure, it was something most gay men had around, but his conscience knew it was for work, not pleasure. Even though he’d used the items earlier.
It wasn’t logical. It didn’t matter. None of his reactions all day had been logical. He double-checked the bedside drawer to ensure he had supplies stocked there. He’d never had a man in his room, so it wasn’t something he usually worried about. The butt plugs and dildos were already stashed in a box in his closet. Again, they were trade tools to him, not toys bought for fun. They didn’t belong with Rock. Not those ones.
The last four weeks had been some of the best in his life and he didn’t want to mess this up. The connection between them had only grown stronger since that day on the rooftop. Yet he still couldn’t kick the sensation that there was a time bomb ticking off the seconds until his happiness was shattered.
A knock on his door had him sucking in a breath. It’ll be fine.
He popped in a breath mint and hurried downstairs, pausing to run his hands through his hair and straighten his collar before he opened the door. “Hey, Rock. Come on in. Did you find it okay?”
Rock wiped his boots on the rug as he leaned in and pulled Carter in for a kiss. His lips were slightly chilled, just like his fingers on Carter’s nape. The scent of the cold outdoors clung to Rock, which seemed to emphasize his ruggedness.
The nerves eased out of him as Rock stepped back, a smile on his face. “You forget that Deklan and Jake both live here.”
“Damn. I did.” Sometimes he purposely blanked out the whole club connection. “Here.” He reached for the reusable shopping bag Rock was holding. “Let me take that. You can hang your coat on the hook.” He left Rock to remove his boots and winter jacket and took the bag around the corner to the kitchen.
“You have a nice place.”
Carter turned from unpacking the contents of the bag, but Rock was still in the hallway. “Thanks,” he called out.
“Did you take these?”
He walked back to find Rock studying the line of black-and-white prints he’d hung down the entry wall. “Yeah.”
“They’re nice.” He turned, and his smile kicked at something in Carter’s heart. He was in so much trouble with this man.
“Thanks,” he said again and tried to get himself under control. He was acting like this was his first date or something. “I marked the spot where I took the picture then came back every four months to capture the changes over time.”
“It’s fascinating.” It wasn’t faked interest in Rock’s voice. “This change was all completed in a year?”
“Yeah.” Carter walked up to stand behind Rock. He wrapped an arm around the man’s waist and pointed to the first picture. “I’d read about the demolition on the city planning website, so I scouted out a building that would give me this perspective.”
“How did you know where to look?”
“I didn’t. I spent hours walking city blocks until I found the boarded-up building where I took these from. Then I had to find a way in without getting caught. Most buildings have one if you know where to look.”
Rock cocked his head to glance at Carter over his shoulder. “And you do?”
He grinned. “I do now.”
“How long have you been doing that?” Rock nodded toward the pictures.
“The urban contrast shots?” He stopped and thought back, counting the time in his head. “Six or seven years? Something like that.” He rested his chin on Rock’s shoulder, rubbing his hand absently over the firm lines of Rock’s abs beneath the soft material of his sweater. “I stopped taking pictures when I started…escorting. They were two separate things in my mind.”
“What do you mean?”
“One was who I wanted to be, the other who I had to be.” He’d been so naive once again. He’d believed that if he didn’t mix the two parts of his life, nothing could be tarnished. It was glaringly young and optimistic when he looked at it now.
“What changed that?” Rock’s voice had lowered.
There were so many things that had changed. It was hard to define it exactly. “At some point, I opened my eyes and saw that who I had to be was who I was. Period. And who I was missed being behind the camera.” That first day when he’d dug his camera bag out of the back of his closet flashed to him like he was there again. He could see now that it was what had saved him from getting completely lost in the darkness that had wanted to tear him apart inside. “That’s when I started hunting down the lost buildings. They say so much if you stop to look.”
Rock turned in his arms, his eyes searching. “What do they say to you?”
Carter stared over Rock’s shoulder at the pictures. He knew them by heart, could remember taking each image. “Each one is a different story of lost opportunity.” Damn. He stepped back, avoiding Rock’s gaze, a dry laugh burning his throat as he forced it out. “Come on. I thought you were teaching me how to bake cookies.”
“You sure about this?” Rock asked as they entered the kitchen. He didn’t say anything more about the pictures, and Carter was grateful.
He looked over the supplies he’d taken out of the bag, not at all certain about their task. “Yup. I want to see you in an apron.” He let out a real laugh and spun away when Rock lunged for him.
“I don’t wear aprons.”
He eyed up his man, standing defiant with his hands on his jean-clad hips. “But you’d look so cute,” he teased. Not. Rock was not an apron kind of guy, but it was fun getting a rise out him.
Rock pointed a finger at him. “You’re asking for it.”
God, was he ever. Carter wiggled his brows. “Always.”
“Shit,” Rock said with a roll of his eyes. He waved a hand at the cupboards. “Get some bowls out. I hope you have measuring cups and spoons. I didn’t bring mine.”
Carter bent to dig out a mixing bowl from under the counter. The fact that they could joke about sex without his work coming between them was proof of how far their relationship had come. He set the bowl on the counter, his smile too big to contain. “What kind of cookies are we making?” He’d have to run extra miles tomorrow to make up for this indulgence, but it was more than worth it.
“You said oatmeal chocolate chip were your favorite.” Rock ducked his head and busied himself moving ingredients arou
nd on the counter.
“They are,” Carter said, his voice softer than he’d intended. The little ripple of sensation that rose from his stomach to his chest was completely different than the swirl of nerves that had plagued him earlier.
He could totally love this man if he wasn’t careful. It was too early for that. It was too early for a lot of things, but that didn’t stop the emotions from surfacing anyway.
He cleared his throat. “Right.” He rubbed his hands and stepped up next to Rock. “Show me the way, maestro.”
Rock shot him a look. “I’ll show you the way.”
“I’m counting on it.” Carter bumped his hip into Rock and laughed when Rock couldn’t keep his smile from breaking through his scowl.
The next hour was spent measuring, mixing and kissing. Yeah, he couldn’t resist dropping kisses on Rock’s nape when he bent over, his concentration on leveling sugar in a cup or kissing the quirk of his lips when he didn’t like the consistency of the batter. Even the wrinkle on his brow that formed when he tried to glower at Carter was worth kissing. Touching. It was fun just to touch him freely whenever he wanted without worrying about intentions or outcomes or reactions.
“You’re not even paying attention,” Rock accused after he’d turned the mixer off, the room going quiet after the loud burr of the motor.
“Yes, I am.” Carter was leaning against the counter, completely focused on the man.
Rock grabbed a towel and snapped it at Carter. “On the cookies. Not me.”
“Why not you?”
“I thought you wanted to learn how to make these.” He motioned toward the bowl of cookie batter.
Carter crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged. “I did. But I really wanted to watch you doing something you enjoy.” Rock’s gaping stare was too comical not to chuckle at.
“What?” he sputtered, his cheeks turning that pale red that Carter found irresistible.
He stepped up, circling his arms around Rock’s neck. “You got to watch me doing something I love. I wanted the same chance.”
“Hell.” Rock looked down, his hands going around Carter’s waist. “That’d be kind of boring.”
“Why?”
“What I really love is computers.”
“I know.” He nudged Rock with his head until he tilted his face up enough for Carter to kiss him. “This seemed more interactive.”
Rock’s small hum vibrated into Carter’s mouth. He picked up the faint sweetness of soda over the flavor that was only Rock. Sucking on his tongue, he searched for more while savoring the heat that bloomed within him.
“I agree,” Rock murmured between small kisses down Carter’s jaw. “This is better.” The man traced a wet line around Carter’s ear that sent goose bumps down his neck.
Carter had to agree with Rock. This was better.
Rock tugged him closer to grind their groins together. He rocked his hips, the hard outline of his growing erection nudging over Carter’s. Carter closed his eyes and welcomed the rise of his hunger. He could never get enough of Rock.
He ran his palm over the bristle of hair at the back of Rock’s scalp and angled his head back until he could capture Rock’s mouth in another kiss that went on forever. What started out slow and searching eventually turned into urgent and demanding.
Rock backed him up until he hit the sharp edge of the counter. He groaned at the impact, his erection pressing against the confining fabric of his jeans. With effort, he jerked his mouth from Rock’s. “Bed?” Carter panted.
“Where?”
“Upstairs.”
Rock’s heavy breaths raced over his neck. He still couldn’t say what it was exactly about this man that wound him up and held him so tight, but he’d stopped dissecting and chose to enjoy whatever it was for as long as it lasted. Because no matter how good it was, history had shown him it would end. He wasn’t naïve and young any more.
He leaned into Rock until the man stepped back. “Come on.”
“Wait.” Rock grabbed the bowl of cookie dough, quickly covered it and shoved it into the fridge before he turned back to Carter, his eyes glinting with mischief. “We can bake them later.”
“That’s an excellent plan.”
The short trip upstairs took less than a minute, but each step seemed so very important. They’d had sex multiple times by now, each time better than the last. But they’d always been at Rock’s place.
He turned to Rock as he backed up toward his bed, undoing the top buttons on his shirt before pulling it over his head. He caught Rock’s quick inhale of breath and his slow scan over Carter’s bared chest. He wasn’t as muscular as Rock, but he didn’t work out for nothing.
Rock stripped his sweater off in one smooth move that had his abdominal muscles flexing in a delicious way. Holding Rock’s gaze, Carter undid the snap on his jeans and slowly eased the zipper down. The rip of the teeth cut through the silence, a tease for what was coming.
The tension building between them was incredible. They were feet apart, just out of arm’s reach but close enough to hear each breath and low sound of appreciation Rock made. They’d seen every inch of each other by now, but this deliberate smoldering of anticipation was erotic and sensual.
Purposeful.
Carter dipped his hand into his jeans. A moan escaped and his eyelids lowered when he fisted himself. Man, he wanted to dive into the man standing there, eyeing him like he was the most amazing thing he’d ever seen. Carter could relate.
He moved his hand in a long stroke before he eased his jeans down his hips and kicked them to the side with his socks. He’d stripped plenty of times for countless men, but he’d never been so turned on by it. This was for him as much as Rock.
His dick bobbed, hard and waiting as he straightened, his eyes meeting Rock’s. The air was cool but it barely registered on his heated skin. Rock wet his lips and swallowed. Then the man shocked him by closing the distance and dropping to his knees. Rock looked up the length of him as he grasped Carter’s hips and licked a long line up his erection.
His gasp was sharp, the sensation perfect. He grabbed Rock’s shoulders, his hands trembling when there was no real reason for it. “You sure?”
Rock had sucked his balls more than once, but this was the first time he’d moved up to Carter’s dick. Not that Carter was complaining, but it was one of the things the man had avoided. He didn’t want Rock to feel pressured into it.
Rock nuzzled a kiss into his stomach. His chin bumped against Carter’s erection and the light stubble nicked the sensitive head. Carter’s groan rumbled through the room as his hips bucked forward. He clenched Rock’s shoulders, unable to look away.
“Yes.” Rock’s answer was muffled against Carter’s stomach.
From above, Carter could catch the pink slip of tongue as it darted in and out of Rock’s mouth, leaving hot, wet trails that cooled when he moved on. The urge to grab Rock’s head and show him where to go was strong, but watching Rock’s enjoyment was better.
Rock looked up, his lashes framing the hint of hesitation. “I’ve never done this.” The open vulnerability in both his voice and expression reached within Carter to squeeze his heart.
He cupped Rock’s cheek, his thumb caressing the soft skin over his beard. “Just do what you like.”
Rock pressed a kiss to Carter’s palm and edged Carter backward until the back of his knees hit the bed and he sat down. Rock wedged himself between Carter’s legs to plunge his tongue deep into Carter’s mouth. Then he was gone.
Rock stood and deliberately undid his jeans. Carter was torn between watching his face and the slow reveal of his cock. Both were enticing for different reasons.
The cocky smirk that lit Rock’s face as he pushed his jeans down had Carter chuckling. He kept his gaze locked on Rock’s and scooted back on the bed until he was braced against the headboard. He spread his legs and stroked himself. “Get up here.”
Rock shucked his underwear and climbed on the bed a second later. The mattres
s tipped as he crawled up. He kissed the inside of Carter’s ankle, the side of his calf, the curve of his knee before layering a line of kisses up the inside of his thigh and spreading Carter’s legs wider.
“I’ve always been afraid to do this.” Rock buried his nose in the crook of Carter’s thigh and hip. That was another confession Rock didn’t have to make. His openness was in many ways humbling. His trust weighty.
He caressed Rock’s head. “Why?”
Rock didn’t look up as he swirled his tongue around the base of Carter’s cock. “I don’t know why I love this so much.” He rubbed his palm over Carter’s smooth groin area before he cupped and rolled Carter’s balls.
“Sex?” Carter was trying to follow Rock’s conversation, but his brain was working on half the blood flow it normally required.
Rock shook his head, his wonderful beard stubble grazing Carter’s balls this time. Oh, God. He arched his back, not sure if he was trying to get closer or away. The quick shot of pain turned to pleasure almost instantly.
“This smoothness.”
The words were out as he kissed the skin at the base of his cock, then all Carter knew was the hot, wet heat of Rock’s mouth closing around him. The sight of his strong lover taking him in his mouth was amazing. Rock sank down and lifted, adding suction until he reached the top, where he fluttered his tongue over the sensitive spot on the underside.
Blow jobs were common and rarely intimate for him. Anyone could be decent at it, even with minimum skill. Hell, most men didn’t care what one did as long as teeth were minimized and suction used. But Carter was an expert giver, and he had nothing on the open eagerness that Rock applied to him.
“There’s no way this is your first time giving head.” Carter gasped, his fingers digging into Rock’s shoulder when Rock probed the slit on the tip with his tongue.
Rock pulled off and used his hand to continue stroking Carter with a firm grip. His eyes were dark, his lips full and red. “Don’t you know? Almost everything is a first with you.”
He’d guessed that. Rock had probably said it before, but hearing it at that moment was a rush. He yanked the man up and took his mouth in a kiss that emptied him. It was too much to absorb. The words that wanted to tumble out couldn’t, so he poured it all into that kiss.
