SILLY, BUT Tristan couldn’t help being excited to have Phillip come over for dinner. They were friends, though after the past weekend, they had to be more, right? Tristan just wasn’t sure how much more.
He hummed as he sparked a fire to life in his fireplace. Closing the grate, he let the flames lull him.
Overcast clouds darkened the room and added to the atmosphere of needing hot soup. Chicken corn soup simmered on the stove, and the scent of warm cornbread filled the house.
With a crack of thunder, the clouds opened and poured buckets down.
“Oh no.” Tristan threw some big towels in the dryer to warm them, then paced from the kitchen to the living room window. Phillip is a safe driver. He was only five minutes late. Tristan added a couple of logs to the fire, making the flames roar to life.
Nothing could stop the worry of wet roads until the soft roar of Phillip’s bike reverberated in his open garage. He grabbed the warmed towels and headed to rescue his half-drowned guest.
Phillip hopped from the bike, took off his helmet, and put it on the seat. “It wasn’t the moving, but the stopping.”
Tristan took Phillip’s pack and set it on an odd chair he kept meaning to refinish. He put the wet leather jacket over the back. Phillip’s T-shirt was soaked, showing off his body, nipples standing out in stiff peaks. Ashamed of his ogling, he wrapped Phillip up in a big fluffy bath sheet.
“Mmmmm, that’s nice.” Phillip continued to towel off.
Tristan dried off the motorcycle with a clean rag. “It’s a beautiful bike.”
Phillip smiled. “Thanks. Just don’t burn yourself on the pipes.”
Avoiding the hot chrome, Tristan lifted the helmet and dried the seat, then wiped the handlebars, instrument panel dash, and mirrors.
“Thanks. That’s good enough.” Phillip frowned down at his pants. “I’m drenched. If I go into the house, I’m going to make puddles.”
“And not the kind I want you to.”
Phillip hooted. “Nice.”
Tristan shrugged, and he wasn’t sure what had gotten into him. “Let me fetch you some warm towels.”
“Great.” Phillip kicked off his boots and toed off his socks.
Tristan fetched some more warm towels out of the dryer. When he got back to the garage, he couldn’t help but notice how Phillip’s wet jeans clung seductively to his hard thighs. In order to escape the denim, Phillip had to do this cute little wiggle jump.
Tristan froze at the bizarre sight of a naked… near-naked man in his garage. He shook his head to snap out of his stupor. He wrapped a towel around Phillip’s shivering body and guided him. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”
He stood Phillip in front of the fire and went to the garage to grab Phillip’s pack. On the way into the living room, he grabbed a smaller towel, which he used to pat Phillip’s blond hair dry.
“I got it.” Phillip rubbed his head briskly. “There.”
Tristan snapped out of his bemusement. “Let me get you some soup.”
He fetched the hot soup and warm cornbread with two bottles of water, placed everything on a tray, and carried their feast into the living room.
Phillip sat cross-legged in front of the fire. The towel had slipped and pooled around his waist. Shadows played across his face and body as he stared into the dancing flames.
The vision punched Tristan in the gut. Phillip sat there without his cloak of barbed snarks. Tristan felt he could almost have a chance with this Phillip.
He wanted, no, needed to make this perfect for Phillip. “Here. We can eat by the fire.”
Phillip accepted a bowl with a hunk of cornbread and tasted the soup. “Oh, God! That’s incredible.”
Tristan smiled, pleased to have someone appreciate his culinary efforts. “Glad you like it.”
“Like it? If I wasn’t engaged to your couch, I’d marry this soup. We’d have babies… cream of corn soup.”
The vulgar imagery made Tristan snort.
“Tris, you’re dirty! I know you’re thinking of me having my way with the soup. Giving it my hot, creamy goodness.”
Tristan howled with the sheer silliness of the adorable man sitting practically naked by his fire.
PHILLIP FINISHED the meal and grinned at Tristan. “That was amazing. I want to kiss the cook. May I?”
Tristan melted. “Of course.”
“Thank you for the amazing dinner.” Phillip kissed Tristan’s cheek, then trailed his lips to Tristan’s mouth. He branded his mouth with a fiery kiss.
Phillip pulled at the T-shirt Tristan was wearing. The towel that had been wrapped around Phillip was lost.
He pushed Tristan into a reclining position and slithered down his body.
The determined sparkle in Phillip’s gaze told Tristan they were done playing.
Tristan wiggled around, helping Phillip remove Tristan’s pants and underwear so the accumulating pile of fabric could grow. He was rolling around nude by his fireplace with Phillip—if there was any time to dwell, he’d probably be shocked.
Phillip rubbed back and forth over Tristan’s naked cock, gliding over him sensuously.
God, skin to skin. He bit back a moan, but it escaped when Phillip found Tristan’s cock and gave him a slow lick root to tip.
Phillip grinned, then licked the drop easing its way out of the top. “Mmmm, you taste sweet.”
Tristan tried to respond, but Phillip sucked him down so only a broken whimper came out. He reached out and twined his fingers into Phillip’s hair. The fire crackled and warmed him, but nothing was hotter than the vision of Phillip’s bobbing head—and then Phillip glanced into Tristan’s eyes.
Their gazes caught. All the romantic clichés in the world seemed to collide, and they were all true.
“I love you.” Tristan had to say it. Heck, singing it from the rooftops felt right.
Phillip pulled back and smiled. But a heartbeat later, he stiffened and a frown morphed the happiness on his face to sadness. He shook his head. “You love what I’m doing. Don’t get confused, Tris.”
The soft-spoken denial slashed through Tristan, making him want to refute Phillip’s assessment. Like it or not, he had fallen head over heels in love with Phillip. He didn’t have to hear the words back to validate his own. This intensity of emotion might be new to him, but it had nothing to do with Phillip’s hot, wet mouth going to town on his erection.
Granted, that was an incredible bonus, but right now, he couldn’t have this debate with words. If Phillip didn’t want to hear the words, Tristan would do his best to show him. “Come here.”
Phillip shook his head and ducked back to refocus his attention on Tristan’s shaft.
No. Tristan wouldn’t allow him to completely avoid the emotions swirling between them. He used Phillip’s training-wheel hair flip and guided Phillip away from his arousal and within kissing range, doing his damnedest to transfer raw, pure emotion into a kiss.
The press of their lips started out soft and sweet. Irresistibly drawn in, Tristan increased the pressure.
Phillip moaned, and his body became pliant as he surrendered to the kiss.
Taking the invitation, Tristan deepened the kiss, trying to convey the precious miracle of the love that coursed through him with the sweep of his tongue. He wouldn’t push, but he could no longer hide his affection.
Pausing, Phillip leaned back. His face scrunched in confusion as he stared into Tristan’s eyes with wariness and worry. Did he think Tristan would try to trick him?
In that moment, Tristan could feel Phillip’s indecision and fear. Wanting only to reassure, he whispered, “It’s okay, Phillip. Really.”
Within a heartbeat, Phillip plastered on a practiced smile and coyly asked, “Said the spider to the fuck…. You want to fuck?”
“No, but I want to be with you.” He stopped short of saying something utterly romantic because Phillip looked ready to bolt.
Phillip leaned down and shimmied against Tristan, sending sparks of need cascading. “Same difference.”
Tristan squeezed his eyes shut and focused. He couldn’t let that stand. “Very different meanings.”
Phillip straddled Tristan. He shifted his ass back and forth, allowing Tristan’s erection to settle between his cheeks.
Dear Zeus! The man was a master at changing the topic with his body.
Phillip tilted his head. “How so?”
Maybe it was a matter of semantics, but however Phillip classified what they were about to do, Tristan wanted it to mean more than getting off together. He hoped to be something to Phillip. He put all his tender emotions into his words and tone, hoping Phillip might hear the truth. “I want us to be together.”
Phillip opened his mouth.
God, this is it. He’s going to say “never,” or worse, laugh.
Tristan allowed Phillip to pull him into a seated position. Phillip pressed soft sweet kisses on his face, then along his jaw, conveying volumes of everything Phillip might never say. They set off flutters of happiness in Tristan.
Phillip trailed his skilled lips and tongue down a path to Tristan’s neck, and he sucked a bite mark onto Tristan.
“Oh, God, so good!” He’d take another hickey. This time the mark would be above where Tristan’s shirts covered, but he didn’t care. He’d wear Phillip’s mark with pride.
Phillip shifted off Tristan’s lap, reached into his magic sack, and pulled out supplies. He tossed lube and condoms onto the floor near them.
Tristan ignored the reasons Phillip was always prepared, and took Phillip into his mouth. He pushed down as far as he could and used his hand to stroke.
“Okay. Stop. I’m close. Stop.” Phillip pushed him away and grabbed the lube.
Tristan wanted to prepare him. “I can—”
“Quicker if I do it.” Phillip didn’t look at Tristan.
“It’s not a race.”
“Speak for yourself,” Phillip grumbled.
“Let me.” Tristan covered his fingers in the gel and brushed Phillip out of the way. He inserted one finger, then two, into Phillip’s heat.
“Come on, Tris. More.” He thrust back.
The desperate begging did a little something for Tristan’s ego. Adding more lubricant and another finger, he stretched Phillip.
Phillip rolled over onto all fours and stared over his shoulder. “Fuck me.”
Uncertainty ripped through him. It was time. Tristan needed to make his move. The usual uncomfortable dread settled around his middle. He offered a small prayer to any deity listening that he wouldn’t disappoint Phillip.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He attempted to still his trembling hands by planting them on Phillip’s hips. He clenched his teeth and tried to bury the impending failure and disappointment this experience might bring. What was he doing?
Phillip stopped wiggling his ass and asked, “You have done—”
“Of course.” Tristan didn’t mean to snap. “Sorry. It’s… you know, I don’t have much experience. My two boyfriends preferred manual.”
Probably because he sucked at intercourse. Tristan tried to think of something to do or say to avoid confirming the big L he wore over his head. His flagging erection didn’t help him much.
“I guess maybe I shouldn’t have assumed you wanted to—we don’t have to do this.” Phillip sat on his heels.
“I want to, I really do.” Tristan shook his head and reached out to touch Phillip but stopped midreach. He’d seen firsthand how much Phillip enjoyed something inside him.
Phillip grabbed a pillow from the chair and shoved Tristan back onto it. “Lie down.”
Tristan lay there, trying not to feel stupid, but as soon as Phillip’s mouth encompassed his erection, he didn’t have to try all that hard.
“There you go.” Phillip rolled a condom on Tristan with impressive precision, added lubrication, and straddled him. “You ready?”
Closing his mouth because he panted, Tristan nodded. Talking wasn’t a possibility.
Phillip lined them up and inched down onto Tristan.
So hot and tight and….
When Phillip hit bottom, he moaned like he’d just found something that had been missing. He wiggled his hips.
Gasping for breath, Tristan tried to convey everything he was experiencing with one word: “Phillip.”
With a grin, Phillip placed his hands on Tristan’s shoulders, undulated his way almost off Tristan, and then slid back down. He groaned. “Tris! God, you’re the right size.”
His whole body felt Phillip taking him. He could barely think past the friction and heat.
“Yeah,” Phillip muttered to himself as he eased off again only to shove back down, his eyes slamming shut.
The raw pleasure written on Phillip’s face each time he descended fascinated Tristan. He reached out and cupped Phillip’s cheek, craving more of a connection. “Look at me.”
Their gazes met. Phillip’s mouth dropped open, and his breath mingled with Tristan’s as he moved confidently over him.
Phillip rode him with much more experience than Tristan ever hoped to have, but he didn’t look away. “God, more, Tris. I need more.”
Tristan grabbed on to Phillip’s tensing thighs for something stable to hold in this storm. This was everything. Failure wasn’t an option. He had to give Phillip what he needed.
“Come on, Tris. Give it to me. I can take it.” Phillip’s lusty grin suggested he enjoyed sex talk. Geez, Tristan’s previous lovers never uttered more than a sigh.
More, he wanted more. Tristan changed the angle of his hips. Phillip’s keen assured him that he was on the right track. He started meeting Phillip’s ass with firm thrusts.
“Fuck! Yes, like that.” Phillip groaned and tried to grab himself, but his balance was unsteady. “I can’t….”
Yes, keep giving sexy instructions. It was like a road map to orgasm. Hearing Phillip’s moans and groans mixed in was making everything go nova. God! Tristan focused and wrapped a hand around Phillip’s shaft and stroked in time with his thrusts.
“God, you’re perfect in me. You’re going to make me come.” Phillip’s husky whimper of pleasure went right to Tristan’s head, and his words soothed the hurt.
He was doing this. Him. Tristan Cooper, quiet librarian, was making his rakish lover lose control. Stroking a little quicker got the job done.
“Tristan,” Phillip strangled out with a grunt.
No one had ever called out his name. The tight clenching around him was too much. Tristan stroked Phillip and thrust into him until he passed the stratosphere.
When he arrived back on earth, Phillip leaned down and pressed against Tristan’s mouth with sweet and sugared kisses. The tenderness ended with Phillip whispering, “Hold on to the condom.”
Tristan did as instructed. Phillip tightened his ass and slid off, making Tristan shiver.
Phillip made the condom disappear, and then he grabbed the towel and wiped them both off. He folded the terry cloth over, then lay facing the fire.
What should Tristan do? Should he say something? Do something? He leaned over and tried to read the expression on Phillip’s face. It appeared an impossible task, so Tristan skimmed a hand along the muscles in Phillip’s back.
Phillip grinned over at him and wiggled his bubble butt that had taunted Tristan’s daydreams.
He ran a palm across Phillip, squeezed the lovely rounded cheeks, and then slid Phillip closer.
Phillip tensed and scrunched his face. Then he turned and kissed Tristan’s shoulder. “Look, about what you said before…. Nothing against you, but I don’t do the whole love thing.”
Inhaling hurt. Tristan was an idiot. Had he ruined everything? “I probably shouldn’t have said anything, but I really like you.”
“And I really like you.” Phillip didn’t have to say the but—the one that pointed out he didn’t see Tristan as a boyfriend.
Tristan had known that, but it still didn’t prevent the knife in his heart, almost killing him. Now he had no clue if he’d screwed everything sideways or just made it uncomfortable between them. “So now what?”
“Why don’t we chalk it up to words in the heat of the moment,” Phillip answered.
Tristan wanted to deny the explanation, though to do so would eliminate any chance, so he nodded.
Phillip relaxed into him with a soft sigh. He combed his fingers through Tristan’s nest of chest hair and snuggled until he actually purred.
So close physically, yet miles apart.