Chapter Nine

 

“What?” I asked in strangled voice.

He smiled confidently. “You heard me. I’d like to stay the night.”

I blinked at him. “Just like that?”

He lifted one shoulder nonchalantly. “You already know I’m attracted to you. It can’t be that much of a surprise I’d like to sleep with you.”

“Still . . . ” I frowned. He wasn’t wrong. I did know he was attracted to me. I was attracted to him too. But I wasn’t sure I should take him up on his breathless suggestion, although I was tempted. While it would be nice to lose myself in meaningless sex and just put all the awfulness of the evening to bed, so to speak, did I want to risk getting romantically entangled with Ian?

“You don’t think that a man dying here tonight ruins the mood?” I arched one brow.

He sighed. “On the contrary. It reminds me how happy I am to be alive.”

“I see.” While my outlook on life wasn’t nearly as rosy as Ian’s, it was true witnessing the old man take his last breaths had rattled me. I felt more vulnerable than I liked. I didn’t want to be alone tonight, and Ian’s warm, buzzing life force was seductive. I’d had every intention of sending Ian home earlier, but now, I wanted his living energy around me.

His inched closer. “Life is precious. It should be enjoyed while we have it in our grasp.”

“Is that right?” I faced him. “Pretty sure I saw that on a coffee mug once.”

“Ouch.” He laughed. “Here I thought it was hitting just the right note—interested, but also philosophical.”

“Oh, yeah?” I smirked. “I’ve never had sex with a philosopher before.”

His gaze settled on my mouth, sending heat through me. “May it be enlightening?”

I said softly, “You’re very confident. Almost irritatingly so.”

“Playing coy has never been my thing.”

“Finally, we have something in common.”

He murmured, “That sounds promising.”

I stepped into him, and he smiled. I slipped my arms around his waist, taking note he was already hard through his jeans. “Did you think I was a sure thing?”

He huffed a laugh. “Nothing about you is a sure thing, Lorenzo.” His eyes glittered with arousal and he put his hands on my hips. “But if I didn’t ask, I’d never get what I want.”

“It’s confirmed. You definitely missed your calling. Instead of that pesky doctor gig, you should have opened a gift shop with corny mugs and T-shirts.”

“That’s not nice. I’m putting myself out there, and you’re being mean.”

I squeezed his ass through his jeans. “I’m called ‘The Great’ Lorenzo, not ‘The Nice’ Lorenzo.”

“Even more promising.” He leaned into me. “So what do you say? Shall I stay?”

“No strings or expectations?” I narrowed my eyes.

“Not a one.”

I nodded approvingly and then kissed him in a slow hungry slide of lips and tongue. He responded, his hands gripping tighter to my body. It was surprising how much I wanted him. Especially after the grim events of the night. But Ian was a welcome distraction. I didn’t want to think about old men dying in my house or bills that needed paying. Ian’s mouth on mine helped the real world fade into the background as desired.

He gave a needy little groan, and pulling my mouth from his, I whispered, “How about we take this into the bedroom?”

“Yes, please.” His pupils were dilated, and he looked happy. “I’m glad you didn’t send me home.”

“Me too.” I pulled him toward my room. The orange and yellow beads clacked as we passed through the beaded curtain. I was glad I’d burned some incense earlier in the day, otherwise my room might have smelled of dirty socks.

He stood in the middle of the small bedroom, taking in the barren décor. “What is that—a full-sized bed?”

I grimaced. “The room’s too small for much else. You’re lucky it’s not a futon. That’s what I used to sleep on.” I pulled my T-shirt off over my head and tossed it over the small chair near the tiny desk in the corner where my laptop was.

“I guess I expected The Great Lorenzo to have stone lions guarding a king-sized canopy bed and astrology charts and crystal balls everywhere,” Ian murmured. “This is surprisingly. . . sterile.”

“Is it that bad?” I looked around the room trying to see it through Ian’s eyes. A brass lamp on the nightstand cast a stark light over the small space. The headboard-less bed was admittedly lackluster with a plain white comforter and pillows. The oak floorboards were worn and a bit creaky. The walls were a boring gray, adorned with a series of storm-swept seascapes where a local artist had done his best to capture the tumultuous dance of sea and sky off the coast of Fox Harbor. The paintings were the best thing about the room. It was definitely an uninspiring space, but I didn’t spend a lot of time in here. “It gets the job done.”

“I suppose it does.”

I frowned. “Is my bedroom décor a deal breaker?”

He laughed. “Hell, no.”

“Then why are you still wearing clothes?” As I spoke, I pushed my jeans down to my ankles, along with my underwear. I stepped out of them, giving him a challenging look.

Unbuttoning his shirt, he scanned my naked body. “You probably think I’m a snob.”

“I know you’re a snob. I knew that the first day I met you.” I grabbed the lube and a condom from the small black nightstand next to the bed. “But I don’t care about that because this is just sex.”

“And you don’t have to like me to fuck me?”

I shrugged and got on the bed. “I have to like your body.” I skimmed my gaze over his lean, muscular torso. “So far, so good.”

His smile was a cross between flattered and bewildered. He didn’t respond, he simply finished undressing.

There was no denying he had a beautiful body. Of the two of us, he was more defined and well-developed. My body was lean, and I naturally had muscle, but I could tell he hit the gym regularly. Looking at his tanned perfection, I had a momentary twinge of insecurity. Then the lust glittering in his eyes reassured me he liked what he saw. His gaze paused briefly on the simplistic black tattoo of a butterfly I had on my left pec. But he didn’t ask about it, and I didn’t volunteer anything.

Apparently he’d gotten over the pitiful décor because he moved onto the bed and immediately began kissing me. I once more admired his choice of cologne, pleased it wasn’t heavy or cloyingly sweet. His touch was gentle but confident. Our kisses were those of two people who didn’t know what the other liked yet. But we were both eager to please, and I liked kissing Ian a whole heck of a lot. His lips were full and soft against mine, and his tongue teasing. Playful.

I broke the kiss, panting. “I want you to fuck me.”

“Your wish is my command,” he whispered.

Before we’d come into the bedroom, I’d wondered if he was the type of lover who just jumped on top and went for it. He wasn’t. He was more exploratory and patient than I’d have guessed. His hands were smooth and practiced as they stroked and sought the tender spots that made me respond the best. He seemed eager to taste every inch of my skin. He licked at the small star-shaped birthmark on my left shoulder and nibbled at my nipples until they hardened against his seeking tongue.

Slowly the hunger we’d held in check gave way, and the kisses became more demanding. A fire burned in my belly as he settled between my thighs and took my dick into his hot mouth. Arching my back, I tangled my fingers in his silky wheat-colored hair. He seemed to enjoy sucking me as much as I enjoyed receiving his attention. His fingers caressed my swollen nut sack as he stroked and licked my aching length.

“S’good,” I mumbled, trying my best not to thrust too deep into his throat. Maybe if we did this again sometime, and I knew him better, I’d be a little more aggressive. For now, I’d be on my best behavior.

By the time he pulled his mouth off of me and kissed his way up my body, I was more than ready. He tore open the condom with his teeth, eyes never leaving me. Once he was sheathed, he lay on top of me. I gave a happy groan at the feel of his warm flesh against mine. He used his knee to nudge my thighs wider and then he slipped a slick finger inside me.

I threw my head back, absorbing the careful invasion with little whimpers. While I felt slightly impatient with how cautious he was being, I also appreciated his thoughtfulness. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept with a guy who took his time with me. Even if this was a one-off, Ian wasn’t treating me like it was. He was showing me respect, and that made my chest ache oddly.

I tried to show him my gratitude with my kisses and touch. I traced the bumps and ridges of muscle as I rubbed my hands down his back to cup his firm ass. His kisses became more heated, and I spread my thighs wider in invitation. That was all the encouragement he needed. He pulled his fingers from my body and I felt the wide head of his dick pressing my hole.

Our eyes met as he slowly pushed inside me, making the moment almost too intimate. I initially winced as the tight muscles gave way to that invasion of hard flesh. Then the burning glide was so delicious I couldn’t keep quiet. I moaned my appreciation and wrapped my legs around his body, meeting his thrusts. He gave a feral growl and drove his hips forward, and I dug my nails into his back. I could feel the pulsing of his thigh muscles as he thrust into me, pumping in and out. The gentleness was gone now, replaced by an instinctive need to take what he needed.

He kissed me, swallowing my moans and then burying his face in my shoulder. His breaths were hot and ragged against my skin. His body trembled, and I sensed he was holding back. Trying not to give into his baser instincts to use me—to use my body only for his own pleasure. The idea of him wanting that excited me. I didn’t mind a little selfishness in my lovers, so long as they got me where I needed to go.

“Harder,” I whispered, tugging at his hips. “You can fuck me as hard as you want.”

“Yeah?” There was a desperation in his voice as he lifted his head.

“Feels good.”

He gritted his teeth. “You feel fucking amazing.” His eyes burned with a need that was exhilarating. I felt seen. Worshipped. Such bizarre emotions considering I wasn’t sure I’d ever see him again after tonight. He let go of his control a little, his hips speeding up, lips parting.

He pumped in and out of me, eyes intense and watchful. I was embarrassed by how noisy I was, but he felt so fucking good inside me. I pulled his head down, feasting on his mouth. His excitement grew and his thrusts intensified. I dug my feet into the mattress, trying to hold onto my need just a little longer. But every stroke inside of me coaxed me closer to the edge.

He groaned and his hips stuttered. “Shit. I’m gonna come.”

“Me too,” I whimpered, my body aching for release.

“Fuck,” Ian rasped, his cheeks flushed and his muscles taut.

As our eyes met for the hundredth time, I had the strongest sense we’d done this before. Of course, that was impossible, but the moment felt both new and familiar. He gripped my thigh as his orgasm hit, and the clunky silver ring on his finger caught the light. The green jewel seemed to glow with a brilliance that hurt my eyes, and then I was coming. A hot flush of pure bliss washed through me, and my toes curled as I cried out his name.

My vision blurred and I felt like I was falling, tumbling down a wormhole of ecstasy. There was only his husky voice, and our bodies undulating and trembling with pure pleasure. I spilled hot release between us, and his dick swelled inside me. I held tight to him, body quaking and shuddering as he finished inside me. I was dazed by the force of my climax, and he seemed equally disoriented.

We were both breathless and covered in perspiration by the time we stopped moving. We held each other, little jolts of pleasure pinging through me every few seconds. Once he’d caught his breath, he carefully pulled out of me.

Ian gave a gruff laugh, avoiding my gaze. I wondered if maybe he’d just grab his clothes and bolt now that we’d finished, but he didn’t. Instead, he disposed of the condom and wiped my stomach down with tissues from the nightstand. I watched him as he gently cleaned me off, feeling puzzled. The biggest surprise of all was when he climbed back on the bed with me.

He sat cross-legged beside me, wearing a little smirk. “You thought I was gonna leave, didn’t you?”

I hesitated. “Yeah. I did.”

“Because you think I’m a snob.”

I frowned and scooted up to rest my back against the pillows. “What is it you want me to say, Ian? You want me to apologize for calling you a snob earlier?”

“Not really.” He sighed. “I can be a snob sometimes. But I’m a nice guy too.”

“Did I say you weren’t?” I pulled the comforter up so that it covered my lower half. It was chilly tonight, but that wasn’t why I covered my body. It felt too almost intimate to lay naked in bed with him, even though we’d just had sex. I really hadn’t expected him to stay once he’d gotten off. The fact he wanted to made me jittery and borderline shy. Not something I usually felt around another man.

“No.” His gaze was assessing.

“You’ve been very nice to me,” I admitted. He had been too, ever since my little trip to the hospital he’d been the complete opposite of the man I met that first day. “In fact, you’ve been surprisingly kind.”

He didn’t respond immediately. Then he said, “That’s because I like you, Lorenzo. I’d like to see you again. Maybe I could take you out to dinner sometime.”

“You don’t have to do that.” Did he feel obligated to wine and dine me because we’d slept together? Probably not. He didn’t strike me as a man who did what he didn’t feel like doing. That could only mean he actually wanted to take me out to dinner. That felt way too much like the beginnings of a relationship, and I wanted no part of that.

“I know I don’t have to take you out to dinner. But is there some reason I shouldn’t?” Confusion glittered in his eyes. I got the distinct impression he found it difficult to accept I didn’t want to have dinner with him.

I grimaced. “I don’t really date.”

He wrinkled his brow. “No?”

“We said no expectations, right?”

His gaze flickered. “We did.”

“It’s not that I’m opposed to doing this again,” I said hesitantly. “This was . . . fun.”

“Dinner could be fun too.”

“I know, but it feels more like a date.” I’d hoped he’d take the hint easier. Had he never been turned down before?

“I see.” His gaze was assessing. “So, we can do things together, so long as we don’t call it dating?”

I shrugged.

“Dating is just a term for seeing someone,” he said quietly. “It’s not a marriage proposal.”

“I know.”

When he laughed, I gave him a wary look.

His smile was indulgent. “You don’t have to look so stressed, Lorenzo. All I’m suggesting is the occasional dinner, and maybe sleeping together if you’re in the mood. You can call it whatever you like.”

I nodded slowly. “Okay. I can do that.” His summation of what he wanted sounded fairly casual.

“Good. I’m glad to hear it.” He looked pleased and he joined me up by the headboard. “You’re hard to read. You have a great poker face.”

“It’s a necessary evil with my job. I read other people, but they’re not supposed to read me.”

“I guess that’s true.” He turned his head and studied me. “Why are you like this?”

My face warmed. “Like what?”

His brown eyes were more curious than judgmental. “Closed off. Afraid of human connections.”

I tugged at a thread poking out on the edge of the comforter. “You sleep with me once and now you’re an expert on me?”

“No. Not even close. But I too have to read people in my line of work. I deduce that something happened in your past that has made you very wary and untrusting of others.”

I clamped my jaw tight.

“Am I wrong?” he asked.

I shifted away from him. “Look, just because we had sex, that doesn’t mean now I want to spill my guts to you. The sex was fun. That’s all you’re getting out of me.”

“Oh, boy. Prickly. Prickly.” He was distracted when his phone buzzed across the room where his pants were hung over the chair. He scowled. “Crap.”

“What’s wrong?”

He got off the bed and went to check his phone. “Judging by the time, I’m sure it’s the hospital.”

“Are you on call?” That surprised me because he’d drank the whiskey with me. He didn’t strike me as the type of professional who’d drink and go to work.

“No. I’m not officially on call, but they’ll still try to bring me in if they need me.” He read the text message, and a muscle worked in his cheek. “Damn. They’re hoping I’ll come in.”

“You can’t, right?” I was surprised to discover I wanted him to stay longer. I didn’t want anything serious with him, but I did enjoy his company. Plus, the events of the evening still had me craving human companionship.

“Nope.” He sighed. “I don’t drink and then play doctor. I feel guilty though. We’ve had an unusually high number of assault victims lately, and we’re short-staffed. I know they wouldn’t try to call me in if they didn’t really need me.”

“I guess I shouldn’t have served you that whiskey.”

He glanced over. “I’m glad you did. It was delicious and I was having a nice time. I was on a date after all.” He winced. “I mean a non-date . . . thing. It was most definitely not a date.”

I smiled grudgingly.

He shot off a text and crawled back on the bed. I widened my eyes when he laid his head in my lap. “What’s this?” I asked.

“After-sex snuggles.”

I wrinkled my brow. “You’re cuddlier than I predicted.” I hesitated for a moment but then fluttered my fingers through his hair. “You’re not easily discouraged, are you?”

“Nah.” He glanced up at me, grinning. “I go after what I want.”

I grabbed his hair tight. “Stop trying to make this more than it is.”

“Ouch.” He laughed. “Careful with the hair. At my age I need to keep every strand.”

“Oh, please. You have great hair.”

He sighed. “I know, right?”

I bit my lip to keep from smiling. “God, you’re an egomaniac.”

“Well, that’s not very nice.”

“Hey, you’re the nice one here. I never said I was nice.” His warm chuckle made my chest tighten oddly. I truly did enjoy Ian’s company. It continually surprised me because we seemed so different.

When his stomach growled, he laughed. “Sorry.”

“We never ate dinner.” I leaned over and noticed the clock said a bit after midnight. “You must be starving.”

“I’ll live.”

His stomach growled again, only louder, and I laughed and said, “I could make you a grilled cheese sandwich? I don’t have much else in the way of groceries at the moment.”

He sat up, his expression eager. “You sure it’s not too much trouble?”

I opened my mouth to make a smartass comment when the room was plunged into darkness.