by John Inman
Dilly drew the drawstring a little tighter so his baggyass pants wouldn’t fall off completely and reached out to open the door.
Chapter Thirteen
WOW, BOZ thought. Holy fucking wow.
He stood staring at a half-naked Dilbert Allan Jones standing expectantly in the doorway in front of him, peering out with a quizzical expression on his face. He was also met with a pale but beautiful expanse of unclad chest and belly, so Boz’s attention didn’t remain on Dilly’s face very long. A little weed patch of chest hair nestled between two gently sloping pecs, crowned with nipples like matching copper coins. Even more fetching was the happy trail of dark fuzz that trailed downward from Dilly’s itty-bitty belly button and disappeared into the no-man’s land under the waistband of his pj bottoms, or whatever the hell they were. That was the sight that sent Boz’s blood pressure shooting up. It took every ounce of willpower he possessed not to fall prey to a hard-on, which in polite society isn’t really acceptable when you’re standing on someone’s doorstep cradling a getting-to-know-you present for the person’s cat.
Boz finally tore his eyes from that luscious area below Dilly’s belly button, all the while trying not to imagine what might lay hidden under the fabric farther south. Judging by the bulge, it was promising enough, and my God, did he actually see it sway when Dilly moved?
Staring even farther down, Boz spotted two sexy feet protruding from under Dilly’s pant cuffs. The feet were lean with neatly trimmed toenails, and on the knuckle of each big toe Boz noted a little copse of black hair. A sprinkling of hair also appeared on the instep, and like the belly button hair trailing down, this hair trailed up, disappearing under the pant legs, giving Boz all sorts of fodder for imagination on how fuzzy those hidden legs might really be. God knows, Boz was a sucker for fuzzy legs.
Sigh.
Boz licked his lips and concentrated really hard on dragging his gaze back to Dilly’s face. When he did, he saw embarrassed recognition register in Dilly’s eyes behind those black-framed spectacles that were still being held together with Gorilla Tape. Just to make sure there was no doubt about who he was, Boz made it even clearer.
“It’s me,” he said. “Boz Jenkins.”
A shy smile crossed Dilly’s face, giving Boz a glimpse of snow-white teeth and the tip of a really pink tongue. Dilly’s finger came up and poked the glasses a little higher on his nose. “So I see. Umm, can I help you, Boz?”
Boz felt his heart give an energetic lurch behind his breastbone, sort of like a squirrel clamoring to get out of a cardboard box. “You remembered my name.”
Dilly blushed. “Well, yeah.”
At that moment, Dilly looked down at the ratty teddy bear with matted fur and one eye missing that Boz cradled in his arms. A grin twisted one corner of his mouth. “I see you brought your teddy bear.”
Boz jumped. “What? Oh, no. This is a gift for your cat.”
Silence echoed for about three seconds. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”
Boz cleared his throat. “Ahem. I said it’s a gift for your cat.”
Dilly studied the limp, ratty bear for a good twenty seconds, before stating flatly, “It’s used.”
It was Boz’s turn to blush. “Yeah, it belonged to my dog, but she got tired of it a couple of years ago. It’s been in a closet ever since.”
“So you decided you’d give it to my cat.”
“Yeah.”
“She’ll hate it.”
Boz’s clattering heart quieted. Crestfallen hearts do that. “Oh.”
He watched as Dilly seemed to take pity on him. His gaze softened as he eyed the teddy bear one more time. “But let’s let Grace decide, shall we?”
Dilly turned and called out Grace’s name. A moment later, a tiny gray head poked through the kitchen door to emit a faintly inquisitive mewling sound, as if to say, “Whassup?”
Dilly plucked the teddy bear from Boz’s hands and tossed it on the living room floor. Grace looked at it and her hackles rose. She hissed and took off running back into the kitchen, where even Boz could figure out she had dived under the sink because he could hear bottles and aerosol cans falling over each other like bowling pins.
Since Dilly had turned to watch the cat, Boz seized the opportunity of staring down at the rise of his asscheeks under the seat of his raggedy lounging pants. And wasn’t that enough to kick his salivary glands into hyperdrive! There was a delicious patch of dark hair sprouting over the crack of Dilly’s ass, and it was all Boz could do not to drop to his knees right then and there and go rooting for truffles.
“Ah, here we go,” Dilly said, and Boz popped back to attention.
Grace had apparently had second thoughts. She reappeared in the kitchen doorway and eyed the teddy bear still lying in a heap on the living room floor. Her gaze left the bear and focused on Boz and Dilly, each in turn. Then, she looked back at the bear with renewed interest. Her hackles rose again. She puffed herself up to three times her normal size then started stalking toward the bear, her rear end swinging around sideways like maybe it was trying to lead the way. Emitting a growl deep in her furry throat, she approached the bear with her cat radar set to high alert. She was so intent on what she was doing Dilly could almost hear her beeping like a car alarm.
She tapped the bear with a forepaw, then leaped three feet straight up into the air. When the bear didn’t fight back, she tapped it again. This time instead of leaping into the air, she waited to see what the bear’s reaction would be. When the creature didn’t respond, Grace clamped her teeth into the bear’s bedraggled ear and gave it a shake. Little limp bear legs and arms flipped and flopped. When the bear still didn’t fight back, Grace’s tail popped straight up, still fluffy and fat like a feather duster. With a low growl of ownership, she haughtily claimed her prize, which was almost as big as she was. Straddling it, she dragged it off to the kitchen like a leopard proudly toting away a dead gazelle.
“I’ll be damned,” Dilly said. “She likes it.”
Boz and Dilly glanced at each other and burst out laughing. Only then did Boz hold up the six-pack of beer he had been holding in a paper sack under his arm.
“I brought you something too. Well, us actually.”
Dilly peeked into the bag. “Ooh, beer.”
“So can I come in?” Boz shyly asked.
A mischievous light lit Dilly’s eyes. “What are you saying? That the gift for the cat was a ruse to get inside?”
Boz knew that if his blush deepened even one iota more his head would catch fire, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. He rattled the sack with the beer in it in what he hoped was an alluring manner. “Dire straits require dastardly measures. I think it’s time we get to know each other.”
“You do?”
Boz nodded. Emphatically. Still trying to keep his eyes off Dilly’s crotch, he said, “I do. I really, really do.”
Dilly stood speechless for a moment, then gazed down at his naked chest. “Maybe I should put some clothes on first.”
“Please don’t,” Boz muttered before he could stop himself. He was charmed out of his socks when Dilly grinned an embarrassed grin and lifted his arm high to run a hand through his hair, exposing a lovely fuzzy armpit in the process. Boz loved fuzzy armpits.
He swallowed hard and mumbled, “Don’t go to any trouble on my account. You know, with clothes and stuff. You’re just fine the way you are.”
Dilly blinked, his expression less teasing now. Boz could see him reverting back to shyness. “Am I really?” Dilly quietly asked.
Boz swallowed again. “Oh God, yes.”
Chapter Fourteen
DILLY USHERED Boz inside and closed the front door behind them. Before he did anything else, he snatched a T-shirt off the arm of the couch and quickly pulled it over his head and down over his bare belly. Boz, who had turned to look at him, sputtered a disappointed, “Oh man,” and Dilly acted like he didn’t hear, although he did bite back a tiny smile.
Feeling less naked now
, he motioned for Boz to have a seat. Boz accepted the invitation, plucking two beers from the bag first. Dilly carried the remaining beers into the kitchen and parked them in the fridge, bag and all. While he was there, he peered under the sink and spotted Grace licking the leg of her new best friend. Dilly had to admit, Grace looked like she was having the time of her life, and the one-eyed bear didn’t seem to mind the attention either.
There really weren’t very many places to sit in Dilly’s tiny apartment, so he claimed a seat next to Boz on the sofa, scooting over to the edge as far as he could go. He unscrewed the cap on his bottle and shyly held it up as if to make a toast.
“Thanks for the beer,” he said, hating himself for blushing while he said it but not knowing any way not to.
Boz smiled sweetly and tapped Dilly’s bottle with his own, creating a merry clink. “You’re welcome.”
They each took a long pull from their Budweisers, and Dilly watched anxiously as Boz checked out his apartment. Everything from the rundown furniture to the ancient TV to the droopy curtains hanging limp at the window.
“It’s kind of a dump,” Dilly said, wondering why he thought he needed to explain since Boz could see for himself what a dump the place was.
Boz shot him a smile so bright that Dilly almost dropped his beer. “That’s okay,” he said gaily. “My place is a dump too. Besides, I didn’t come to see your apartment. I came to see you. I hope that was okay. I couldn’t call ahead because I didn’t know your number.”
Dilly watched as a twinge of uncertainty crawled across Boz’s features, and he wondered what anyone as handsome of Boz could ever have to feel uncertain about.
Dilly latched on to the lull in the conversation to further study Boz’s face. The guy really was movie-star handsome. His bronze skin looked so smooth as to be almost poreless. His astonishingly blue eyes were surrounded by long pale lashes that seemed to flap in slow motion when he blinked. His brownish-blond hair, lightened by the sun, was in need of a cut, or maybe Boz just liked to wear it that way. Boz’s hair was thick and wavy, and Dilly got the impression that, as beautiful as it was, Boz didn’t pay it much attention except for when he pushed it out of his eyes now and then. Like maybe he combed it once in the morning, then never looked at it again through the whole long course of the day.
Tonight Boz was wearing faded blue jeans, a T-shirt bearing a picture of Hugh Jackman, shirtless, in his Wolverine drag, with long steel blades for fingers raking across Boz’s flat belly. On his feet, he wore black-and-white Keds without socks, and there was a tiny hole in one of the sneakers that offered Dilly a glimpse of Boz’s big toe. As Boz sat with his ankle propped on one knee, Dilly could see a good six inches of tanned leg covered with blond hair shimmering in the light of the table lamp burning at the end of the couch.
Dilly had an almost overwhelming urge to stroke his fingers through that expanse of pale hair on Boz’s leg. Or maybe press his lips to it to see how it would taste.
He quickly shook that thought away when he felt a nudge of hardening flesh in the crotch of his flimsyass pants. Jesus, that was all he needed, to show his houseguest what a lech he was. Couldn’t even drink a friendly beer without getting a boner.
Dilly squeezed his eyes shut and tried to will his heart to stop hammering and his dick to wilt back to manageable proportions. Apparently, Boz misunderstood what he was thinking.
“You don’t need to be shy with me. I don’t ever want you to be shy with me. I won’t bite.” One side of Boz’s mouth twisted up in what was either a grin or a grimace. “Not unless you want me to.”
Funny how that one little joke made by Boz in an attempt to get Dilly to relax could suddenly fill the air in the tiny apartment with such sexual energy. Dilly’s hand started shaking, and he quickly set his beer down to hide it. While he hadn’t been particularly uncomfortable before, he certainly was now. Again, Boz appeared to misunderstand his expression.
“I’m sorry, Dilly. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m a little nervous.”
That caught Dilly’s attention. “You’re nervous?”
Boz nodded. “Uh-huh.”
“But why?” Dilly asked the question as if the reason behind it was obvious. After all, Boz was maybe one of the ten cutest guys Dilly had ever seen in his life. Why the hell should he be nervous?
Dilly was watching Boz when the strangest thing happened. A gentle light entered Boz’s eyes. A tiny frown played at his mouth. Even a trembling little dimple appeared in his chin, like he was saddened by something.
Dilly jumped when Boz slid his ass across the couch until the two of them were right next to each other, hips touching, knees bumping, shoulders scrunched together. Dilly’s left arm was squeezed between Boz’s hip and his own. Boz’s right arm was down there too. Dilly felt the hair on Boz’s forearm rustle through the hair on his own, and immediately his dick gave another twitch.
Boz made a shushing sound, like Dilly was a skittish colt he was trying to calm. He reached over and picked up Dilly’s beer off the coffee table and handed it to him. In a soft voice, he said, “Just relax and drink with me. Don’t be afraid.”
Dilly took the bottle from Boz’s fingers, but at the same moment he said, “I’m not. I’m not afraid.” It amazed him to realize that it was actually true. Sort of.
Boz tucked in his chin and gave Dilly a searching look, like Dilly was lying through his teeth and Boz damn well knew it. “I think maybe you are. And I’m just saying you don’t have to be. Okay? I want us to get to know each other. I’m not here to jump your bones or anything. I want to be your friend. I don’t have many friends.”
Dilly drank from his beer, but his eyes never left Boz’s face. He finally couldn’t hold the question in any longer. He had to ask. “How come you don’t have many friends? Are you an asshole or something?”
Boz grinned, then gazed down at his hands and took a sip from the bottle he was holding. His face sobered. “My last lover didn’t want me to have friends, so all the friends I used to have sort of drifted away.”
“Was he jealous?”
“No, he was just hoggy like that. He wanted everything to be about him.”
“So he scared your friends off?” Dilly asked.
Boz coughed up a wry chuckle. There wasn’t much humor in it. “He scared me off too. A little too free with his fists.”
“You mean he hit you?”
“More than once.”
“Where is he now?”
At that, Boz dragged up a smile, although there wasn’t much wattage in it. “Timbuktu, I hope. Or maybe the third moon of Uranus, dying from lack of oxygen and being pelted with meteorites.”
Dilly laughed. “That bad, huh?”
Boz’s jaw muscles worked while his smile faded to a grim line. “Oh yeah. That bad and worse.”
Dilly let a silence settle between them as he considered the turn their conversation had taken. He sneaked a glance at Boz while he sipped his beer. Boz wasn’t looking back. He was staring down at his hands again. Maybe he was giving Dilly time to think things through. Or maybe he was simply giving him a chance to calm down without Boz staring at him. And for that, Dilly was grateful.
He heard the words spill softly from his mouth before he even knew they were coming. “I’ve never really had a lover, Boz.”
Blue eyes turned his way. Boz’s gaze fall on Dilly’s face like a flutter of silk. Soft and gentle. As kind and as comforting as a lazy, warm rain. “No? But you’ve had boyfriends, right?”
Dilly nodded. “Yeah. I’ve had boyfriends.”
“But none you wanted to keep?” Boz asked, that hint of a smile showing up again. “None you wanted to stay with?”
Dilly was spared having to answer when Grace strolled out of the kitchen, legs spread wide, awkwardly dragging her new teddy bear between them. She had the bear’s nose clamped between her teeth. Half the bear was sopping wet from the bath she had given it.
They both smiled down at the cat. “I don’t even know where yo
u live,” Dilly said.
Boz turned his way. He didn’t look so sad now, Dilly thought. Maybe Grace had cheered him up.
“I live in the cottages across the street. The last one on the left. There’s a little pepper tree by the front door and a cactus in a pot on the front step. Feel free to stop by any time you want. If you do, watch out for the cactus. It’s deadly. It’s stabbed more than one delivery guy.”
“Really? I mean, really you want me to just drop by sometime?”
Boz seemed surprised by the question. “Of course, really. I told you before I want us to be friends.” He glanced at his watch, then back to Dilly. “It’s getting late. You go to work earlier than I do. Maybe I should go?”
“How do you know I go to work earlier?”
Boz’s ears turned red. “I’ve seen you.”
“Oh.”
Dilly stood, sitting his near-empty bottle on the table. Boz rose and did the same, then stood there looking uncomfortable, staring down at his feet.
Quietly, Dilly said, “I do hope I see you again.”
Boz lifted his eyes and smiled. For some reason, Dilly thought he looked immensely relieved. “Really? You mean that?”
Dilly couldn’t seem to make his tongue work to form an answer, so he simply nodded.
The moment he did, Boz stepped closer and leaned in to lay a hesitant kiss on Dilly’s mouth. While the kiss lingered on, Dilly raised his hands and circled Boz’s forearms with his fingers.
“You’re shaking again,” Boz muttered into the kiss.
Lost in the taste of Boz’s lips, Dilly could only nod, but not enough to break the kiss. It was Boz who did that.
He stepped back slowly and licked the kiss from his mouth. “Thank you for that,” he said softly, with a tiny hitch in his voice.
Dilly released his arms and stepped back too, carefully folding his hands over the erection tenting the fabric of his damn flimsy pants. Boz glanced down and smiled before tearing his gaze away to focus it back on Dilly’s eyes.
