“Don’t you?” Harley enquired sarcastically. “So if I told you now I batted for the other team, you wouldn’t start to feel uncomfortable about taking your clothes off in front of me?”
Ryan lifted his head. In a quiet, serious voice, he said, “No. Because I already figured it out.”
Harley stared at him a moment. His heart was beating very hard and he felt reckless, needy, like he was on the verge of doing something really stupid. With an effort, he got himself under control.
“Well, you’re wrong. I bat for both teams.” And he gave a smug smile and sat on the couch, taking hold of the remote control.
Ryan looked at him in astonishment before he sat back in his own seat. “That must be…” The man was lost for words again. “You must have…the best of both worlds.”
Harley glanced over at him and burst out laughing. “You’re really funny sometimes, dude and you don’t realize it. The best of both worlds? You don’t have to make a comment on it, you know, just because you’re uncomfortable. You don’t have to feel obliged to let total bullshit come from your mouth. I mean, what the fuck?”
Ryan’s expression darkened. Harley tried to tone down his laughter, wiping at his eyes. “Come on. I’m teasing you. I thought you had a sense of humor.”
“I do.” Ryan’s voice was stiff.
“Then lighten up.”
Ryan turned his head away, focusing on the TV. “Are you putting the movie on or not?”
“Depends,” Harley replied. “Are you pissed at me?”
“No.”
“Are you lying?”
“No.”
“Does what I’ve told you change the way you think about me?”
Ryan’s eyes slid to his. “No,” he said quietly.
And Harley’s heart stilled a little in relief because just maybe Ryan considered him a worthwhile person and they could build a real friendship, even if he now knew with a sinking sense of futility that Ryan was definitely straight.
The film started. Fifteen minutes into it, Ryan glanced over. “So how does it work, anyway? Do you have phases where you’re gay and phases where you’re straight?”
Harley was taken aback momentarily. “Yes, actually.” He chuckled.
“And which phase are you in now?” Ryan’s gaze held Harley’s steadily.
“Oh, I’m definitely queer at the moment.”
Ryan turned his attention back to the movie without another word.
They started on a bottle of wine. Ryan didn’t make it to the end of the film, Harley having told him to take off his shoes and get comfortable. He was soon lying full length on the couch, legs curled up, face turned toward the TV with his eyes closed. Soft breathing came from his parted lips.
Harley’s gaze lingered on his perfect face. Oh, just to snatch one kiss from those lips while he was asleep. Did he dare? Would Ryan wake up?
He climbed stealthily from his own couch and crossed to Ryan’s, kneeling before him to look into his face. His fingertips hovered over the curve of his cheek, desperate to touch it. God, if he woke up and saw Harley staring down at him like this… If Harley touched him and Ryan woke up, they would be done for good. He would never see Ryan again. He couldn’t bear that thought. But it wasn’t enough to stop him from touching. Nothing could stop him.
His fingertips traced the curve of Ryan’s cheek, finding his skin like silk, moved down to his jaw and over slight stubble, going to his mouth and tracing the full bottom lip with his index finger, then sliding over the top lip, his caress lighter than a butterfly’s wing. Ryan’s mouth quivered under his touch, and Harley drew back his hand. But the other man didn’t stir, and Harley went in for the kill. He bent down and pressed his lips to Ryan’s. His mouth was achingly soft and warm, and Harley wanted more. He wanted those lips to part beneath his so he felt the moist heat of Ryan’s mouth on his and his tongue curling against his own.
Harley drew back, looking down at the erection tenting his pants, and hurried out of the room before Ryan could wake and see the truth of his desire for him.
He went upstairs and retrieved a pillow and blanket from the bedding cupboard, took it downstairs and covered Ryan up as he slept, leaving the pillow on the floor by him for fear of disturbing him by lifting his head. The other man still didn’t stir, and Harley pulled the door closed and went up to bed.
In the moonlit room, he stripped off his clothes, brushed his teeth in the ensuite then crawled naked between silk sheets.
He lay in the silence staring at the ceiling, with his hands twitching by his sides and his cock growing harder and harder with every passing second. His desire for Ryan was out of control. It was only a matter of time before he did something stupid and ruined their burgeoning friendship for good. He would have to finish the painting in the next sitting and break off all contact with Ryan, for the sake of his sanity.
He’d so far refused to jerk off over his model, knowing he would feel too guilty afterwards, and he was damned if he would do it now, with the man himself downstairs, but his inhibitions were lubricated by half a bottle of wine. His limbs were loose and sensual and God, he wanted it.
He imagined Ryan creeping into his room, crawling naked into his bed and pinning him to it with that body of his. That body which was surely made for sin. Harley had to stifle a groan when he thought of the sins that body could have committed. His hand moved to his cock against his will, his fingers wrapping around his straining shaft.
Oh, God, he wanted Ryan. It was pointless trying to pretend his interest in him was platonic anymore. He wanted him in the most primal, sexual way it was possible to want another human being and, God help him, he was going to go insane with that need.
He bit his lip as he thrust into his own hand, fingers sliding up and down expertly, imagining Ryan lying between his legs, hot mouth around him, coaxing him to climax. A whimper spilled from his throat. He tossed back the covers, sweating in the close bedroom, his body writhing on the silk sheets. With eyes squeezed shut, he imagined Ryan on top of him, penetrating him, gliding into his depths, that satin mouth on his, and he came, biting on his other hand to stifle his cry.
He fell back panting on the bed, lethargy consuming his entire body, limbs spread-eagled as he drifted toward sleep.
“Harley?”
Harley’s eyes flew open. He scrambled beneath the covers, grabbing a handful of tissues to wipe the semen from his stomach as he did. This wasn’t even funny. This was like his worst nightmare. The subject of his jerk-off standing outside his bedroom door? Not funny at all.
“Yeah?” he called nervously. He didn’t put on the light because he didn’t want Ryan to see how flushed with orgasm he must be. The door slowly opened. Ryan stood silhouetted there.
Ryan chuckled awkwardly. “Now you know what a lightweight I am where movies are concerned. You shouldn’t have encouraged me by covering me up. I’ll go home now.”
Harley sat up a little on his elbows, making sure the covers didn’t fall too low. “Don’t be silly, you don’t have to go home at this time of night. Get in the spare bed across the hall.”
Ryan hesitated. “I put upon you too much. You’re so kind to me, and I haven’t done anything to earn it.”
Harley clicked his tongue to dismiss him. “I like having you here. Is that so bad?”
“No.” Ryan sounded taken aback. It was impossible to see the expression on his face in the dark. “Will you put the light on?”
Harley hesitated before he leaned over to the bedside table and flicked the switch. He felt exposed as the soft lamp glow bathed his skin, and he pulled the covers over his naked torso, acutely aware of what had been splashed there a few moments ago.
“I just…” Ryan fumbled for words. His gaze travelled over Harley’s body, and Harley’s dick twitched again, to his utter shock. How was this even possible? He could be damn sure if he was in bed with the guy and he needed to get it up again within five minutes it wouldn’t happen. How was it that it could happen now with no hope of satisfactio
n, with the only chance of him getting off again by his own hand? He could have yelled in frustration.
And then he looked again at that rippling body straining Ryan’s T-shirt, at the tight jeans and the unmistakable burden they were packing, and scratched that thought. I probably would be able to go all night with him in my bed. I would probably turn into some kind of super-human fucking machine, insatiable and unstoppable.
He turned a little on his side so he could bring his legs up to hide his growing hard-on.
“What I mean is…” Ryan still waffled helplessly, poor guy. Harley decided to put him out of his misery.
“It’s late. Why don’t you go to bed?” And he held Ryan’s eyes steadily and willed him into his own.
Ryan didn’t move. As they looked at each other, Harley’s heart started to race, and he grew harder and harder. Oh, God, he’d never been hotter for anybody in his life, he was sure of it. If begging would have brought Ryan to his bed, he would have done it. He would have given anything to have Ryan’s skin against his that night.
Surely Ryan saw his need in his eyes? Harley was surprised he didn’t run a mile. Ryan finally broke the tense silence. “Thank you, Harley,” he said quietly, and he backed out of the room, closing the door.
Harley took some deep breaths and slid down in the bed. He turned off the light and lay with face flaming and ears straining as Ryan went into the bathroom down the hall and closed the door.
“Fuck,” he whispered. “I’m such a prick.” But he put his hand down again and stroked himself as he imagined Ryan doing the same in his bathroom, overcome with need for him.
But Ryan wasn’t in there long enough. The toilet flushed and water ran, then footsteps went into the spare room before a light clicked on and the door closed softly, plunging Harley’s room back into darkness. Harley pictured Ryan stripping and sliding naked into his spare bed. He visualized himself going across the hall and climbing in beside Ryan, and he turned on his side, taking his hand away and blocking out his thoughts, because he couldn’t go on this way.
Chapter Seven
It was eleven when Harley awoke, to his shock. He never slept so late, and he yawned, rubbing his face as he went into the ensuite to shower. He remembered every detail of the night before as he stood under the spray with his morning wood refusing to go down. He half wished Ryan had slunk home at dawn and half wished to find him still curled up in his spare bed.
He climbed from the shower and shaved and dressed, sighing with frustration all the while. He needed to get laid as soon as possible and take his mind off a man he would never have.
To his shock, laughter came from the kitchen as he descended the stairs and there, at his kitchen table drinking coffee, sat Ryan. Harley’s heart lurched and he managed a smile, stepping into the kitchen and taking a glass from the cupboard and some juice from the fridge.
“You shouldn’t have let me sleep so late,” he scolded Maria, who hovered by the counter. He tried not to glance over at Ryan again and failed. Unshaven and fresh from bed, the man still looked one hundred per cent edible with those ocean blue eyes and that easy smile. Harley almost shuddered with desire.
“That’s my fault,” Ryan spoke up. “You were so tired last night when I came to your room that I persuaded Maria to let you sleep late.”
Their eyes met, and Harley felt himself flush as Maria, standing behind Ryan, lifted one eyebrow and grinned widely.
“I’ll take toast, coffee and one of your smoothies, please, Maria,” Harley said stiffly. “Ryan, want to come outside onto the terrace?”
Ryan nodded and rose gracefully to follow him. They sat together on the terrace, looking out to sea. Harley’s hair was still wet, and it cooled his scalp as the sun started to rise to its zenith.
“Thanks for letting me stay last night,” Ryan said quietly over the call of sea birds.
“You’re welcome.” Harley wasn’t one for conversations in the mornings, and this morning was doubly awkward. Surely Ryan knew exactly what Harley had been doing last night when he’d walked in and seen him all flushed and his bed rumpled? He was so ashamed he couldn’t bear to look Ryan in the eye.
“Do you want me to sit for you today?” Ryan asked. Harley nodded. “Okay I’ll just go home, grab a shower and change, and I’ll be right back.”
“You can shower here,” Harley offered.
Ryan shook his head. “I need clean clothes.”
“Fair enough. Stay for breakfast, then I’ll drive you home.”
Ryan hesitated and shifted a moment in his seat in clear discomfort, and Harley realized perhaps he wanted some time away from him, didn’t want him sitting in his apartment waiting for him to shower, or maybe he didn’t want Harley to see where he lived at all.
“I’ll walk, if it’s all the same to you,” Ryan murmured just as Maria came through with the food, so Harley could only nod. Perhaps Ryan was ashamed of where he lived.
Harley tried his best to make polite conversation during their breakfast, even though he didn’t feel much like talking. He would have been happy to sit in silence, just enjoying Ryan by his side. “So, have you ever done any modeling, Ryan? Apart from sitting for artists, I mean.”
Ryan gaze jerked sharply to his, much to Harley’s surprise, then he looked away. “No.”
“Oh.” Harley wondered if he’d touched a sore point. “Because I know quite a few photographers. I could arrange for you to meet with one to shoot a portfolio, if you wanted. With your face and body, you’d be guaranteed some work if you submitted it to the right agents.”
Ryan stared at him, his blue eyes hard and unfriendly. “Why would you do that for me?”
Harley had made the offer out of mere generosity, simply because a man with Ryan’s attributes should use them for the best. There was no need to be struggling to make ends meet when you had a face like Ryan’s, but Ryan’s angry glare made him feel guilty, like his motives were less than pure, when this time, they really weren’t. “Because…I’d like to help you, that’s all. You could make a fortune.”
Ryan gave a loud sigh and ran a hand through his cropped hair. “Okay, look, I lied. I’ve done that shit already, and it wasn’t exactly…” He trailed off, looking away.
“You’ve done some modeling?” Harley asked in surprise, wondering why Ryan had lied.
“I wouldn’t call it modeling.” Ryan’s tone was disdainful. “I had some photos taken, that’s all.”
“For what?” This was like pulling teeth.
“A magazine.”
“That’s great.” Ryan was looking shifty, and Harley was beginning to suspect what the problem was. “Did it pay well?”
“It was okay,” Ryan mumbled.
“So what magazine was it?”
Ryan was silent for a long time. Finally he replied. “A…men’s magazine.”
Harley almost smiled at this euphemism. “You mean a gay magazine?”
Ryan nodded, tight-lipped.
“Nothing wrong with that. You must have made a lot of men very, very happy.”
Ryan reddened, but for a moment there seemed to be a small, grateful smile on his face before it disappeared.
Maybe he just needed someone to tell him it was okay to earn money that way. “Did you get any other offers after that?”
Ryan’s blush deepened. “Not for photo shoots. There was a…film…but I didn’t do it.”
Harley had to be careful here with Ryan’s sensibilities. “A…porno?” he asked gently.
Ryan nodded without looking at him. Harley tried to beat down the lecherous voice inside him which told him Ryan in a porno, bending another guy over a table and servicing him thoroughly, would be the hottest thing in the history of the world. Hotter still if Harley was his partner. His face burned at his thoughts.
“Why didn’t you do it?” he asked, which was stupid because Ryan flew off the handle.
“Come on!” he exploded, scraping his chair back, rising and starting to pace the terrace angrily. “What
sort of question is that? It was gay porn. I had to fuck another man. Contrary to what you might think, I do have some self-respect left.”
Harley bit back a remark about those rumors he’d heard about Ryan taking extra money to stay after his sittings with female artists. Instead, he said unwisely, “Self-respect doesn’t pay the bills, though, does it?”
Ryan’s eyes were like blue flame. “So I should have done it? I should have slept with men for money? Would you have done it?”
“Probably,” Harley replied. “But I like to sleep with men.”
“Yeah, well,” Ryan said in a disgusted tone, “I don’t.”
“How do you know?”
“Excuse me?”
“How do you know that you don’t like to sleep with men?” Harley repeated flippantly. “Try everything once and don’t knock it until you’ve tried it, that’s my motto.”
Ryan stared at him in astonishment. “So you think I should have done the movie because I might have enjoyed it? Because it’s your own personal wet dream?”
Harley glared in outrage. “Not exactly,” he backtracked. “It’s probably deeply unerotic, actually, what with a bunch of people standing around watching your naked ass going up and down…” He trailed off because he was getting hard just thinking about it.
Ryan’s face was beyond stony. Riling him this way was hardly conducive to bringing him to Harley’s bed. Not that that was ever going to happen, not with yet another affirmation of Ryan’s heterosexuality.
Ryan moved across the terrace, jaw clenched. “I’m going home. I’ll be back later.”
“Ryan.” Harley’s voice stopped him at the french windows. “Would you…bring your photo shoot back with you? I’d like to see it.”
Ryan sighed, his anger seeming to drain away. “Harley, they’re not…suitable…”
“Why? Are they with another man?”
“No, no,” Ryan said hurriedly. “They’re just…”
“Naked? In case you haven’t realized yet, I’ve seen you in the buff a few times.”
Ryan’s face finally relaxed into a reluctant smile, and his beauty made Harley’s heart clench. “Okay, but I warned you. We’re talking stupid poses and ridiculous props.”
Life Class Page 4
