Walk barefoot. Listen to the wind. Drink in the moon. Be magic.
AFTER spending a ridiculous amount of time in front of the mirror—another new facet in his life, primping—he still wasn’t satisfied with his look. He’d tried parting his hair down the side, down the middle, slicked it back, tucked it behind his ears, but no matter what he did, his curls simply wouldn’t cooperate. He was running out of time, and he decided being minty fresh and clean-shaven was more important than taming his curls.
Loud pounding on the door was followed by Ry yelling, “You going to stay in there all night?”
Richard frowned at his reflection, not at all impressed with the image looking back at him. “Maybe,” he tossed back.
More pounding. “C’mon. He’ll be here soon.”
Christ, he’d never been less confident in what he was doing in all his life. He was putting a lot of trust in Ry. He pushed down his natural inclination to distrust. He had to put faith in Ry. After all, if anyone knew Tikron, it would be him. Still, he was as confident in the empty box idea as he was his hairdo. Ugh.
Even more aggressive pounding. “Don’t make me drag you out of there by your short hairs. Move it. Move it. Move it.”
Richard flipped off the light and flung the door open. “Christ on a stick, are you an annoying man.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.” Ry grabbed Richard and got him moving. Hands on Richard’s back, he pushed him forward.
Richard stopped dead in his tracks the instant he got a look at the living room. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“You like it?”
Richard’s furniture was missing. On the floor in front of a roaring fire was a white imitation bearskin rug—at least he hoped it was faux. Next to the rug was a silver bucket with what looked like a bottle of champagne. At the opposite side of the room was a small bistro table set for two. In the center, a rose and two glasses of red wine outlined with small tea light candles in the shape of a heart. Rose petals on the floor, balloons floating in the air, and from hidden speakers, Air Supply was belting out about them being all out of love.
Richard spun around and glared at Ry. “No, I don’t like it. It looks like Cupid puked in here. This is the cheesiest Valentine’s decoration idea I’ve ever seen. This is horrible.” His voice rose with each sentence as panic settled into him and caused his heart to race.
Ry didn’t seem the least bit intimidated by Richard’s minirant. He stood there with a big ol’ grin on his face. “Oh, c’mon, Richard. Nothing says love more than hearts, balloons, and rose petals.”
Just then Albert stepped out from around the corner with a red bow tie around his neck and little white feather wings secured to his back. Richard put his hands on his hips and narrowed his eyes at Ry. “Get that ridiculous costume off Albert and…and….” He gestured at the spectacle around the room. “Ry, fix this. I mean it.”
There was a knock at the front door, which caused Ry’s grin to grow. “You better greet your guest.” He took a long deep breath, then said, “Smells like Dante has dinner almost done.” Ry snapped his fingers and was gone.
“Who the hell is Dante?”
“You called, sir?”
Richard spun toward the kitchen to see a portly man dressed all in white with a crazy tall chef hat. “Who are you?”
“I am Dante. Now please, invite your guest in and have a seat. I shall bring your appetizers out right away.”
Stunned, Richard walked to the door. Albert was already there, barking and wagging his tail vigorously. Richard reached down, unhooked the wings, and shoved them in the front closet. Too bad he couldn’t get rid of the rest of the gaudy crap as easily.
He opened the door, a ready excuse on his lips, but all thoughts fled when he spotted Tikron. He was dressed in a pair of black slacks and dinner jacket over a silky red dress shirt. His hair was styled expertly, and if possible, he was even more handsome than Richard remembered. The large bright smile on Tikron’s face made him even more so. In his arms was a large bouquet of red roses and the biggest heart-shaped box of chocolates Richard had ever seen.
“I have to say, when Ry told me you’d picked a Valentine’s theme for my birthday dinner, I was beyond happy. I frickin’ love Valentine’s Day and the romantic vibe,” Tikron complimented.
“Well, if you love the Valentine’s theme, you’re going to get even happier when you see this.” Richard stepped out of the way and gestured for Tikron to enter.
Tikron handed Richard the gifts, then reached down to greet Albert before stepping farther into Richard’s apartment.
Richard struggled with the overwhelmingly large box and flowers. “You shouldn’t have,” he said. “It’s your birthday, not mine.”
“Technically it’s not my birthday for another two days.” He raked his eyes down Richard’s body, then smiled slyly. “You and I can celebrate it by staying in bed all day. But for now it’s a party, and that’s the perfect excuse to bring gifts.”
“I don’t know if I would call this a party. It’s just you and me.”
“And Albert,” Tikron clarified. He stepped up close to Richard and took him into his arms. “I’m not a big fan of crowds, so I’m thinking this is the perfect size, and I can’t think of anyone I’d rather spend my night with.”
Tikron pressed his lips to Richard’s, and he instantly opened his mouth, inviting Tikron in. All thoughts of tacky decorations or strangers in his kitchen fled. His focus narrowed down to Tikron’s warm mouth, exploring tongue, and the way he made Richard’s toes curl.
“I hate to interrupt, but your meal is ready.”
Richard jerked, but Tikron apparently wasn’t in any hurry to end the kiss. He continued to explore Richard’s mouth, slowly ending the kiss with small biting kisses before pulling back. “I was hoping you were the meal.”
“He’s talking about appetizers,” Richard said and winked.
Tikron took Richard’s hand and led him to the table. He pulled out a chair for Richard, helping him move it closer to the table after he sat. Tikron took the chair next to him and moved it a smidge closer.
“Ah, Señor Dante, I should have known those wonderful savory scents were your doing. What have you created to dazzle us?”
Good question, Richard thought. He had no idea what was on the menu or what kind of surprises might be in store.
“Good evening, Master Tikron. Master Ry informed me to make all your favorites, so to begin with I have some heirloom tomatoes and fresh mozzarella topped with cilantro and basil.” He set a plate down in front of Tikron and Richard.
Tikron rubbed his hands together. “Oh, you do know the way to my heart.”
Richard picked up his napkin—of course folded into a heart shape—and shook it out before laying it across his lap. “This does look delicious.”
Tikron picked up the two glasses of wine, handing one to Richard and holding the other one up. “To us.”
Richard clinked his glass against Tikron’s. “To us,” he repeated, then took a sip. He was no wine connoisseur, but he had to admit it was pretty darn good. He took another sip before setting it down and picking up his fork.
Tikron snatched it out of his hand and set it back down on the table. “The reason this is one of my favorites is because it’s finger food.” He picked up a slice of mozzarella and tomato between his fingers and brought it to Richard’s lips. The instant he opened his mouth and accepted the morsel, the flavors exploded across his tongue, and he couldn’t help but groan his approval.
Tikron watched him with a lust-filled look in his eyes. “God, I love the sounds you make.”
“Mmm, I can’t wait to hear the ones you make when you try this,” Richard responded. He picked up a small amount of food from his plate and held it out for Tikron. He accepted it, but before Richard could pull his hand back, Tikron grabbed his wrist and sucked the tip of his finger into his mouth, the tip of his tongue swiping away the last of the oil on Richard’s finger before he sat back and chewed his bite.
Warmth rushed to Richard’s groin, his arousal flaring to life and pressing against the zipper of his trousers. He shifted to relieve the ache, but it did no good. Watching Tikron eat was a sensual event. Somehow he made it through the appetizer without exploding, but when Dante brought out the main course, all bets were off.
Dante arrived with a large tray laden with plates. The scents wafting around the room were decadent and mouthwatering. “For dinner I have made you charred leek-dusted wild boar with leek fondue and Brussels sprouts, and for your companion, roasted vegetable ravioli with crispy pancetta and bruschetta with tomato and basil.”
“Oh, Señor Dante, you’re too good to me,” Tikron groaned. The sound of which went straight to Richard’s crotch. He was so doomed. Tikron made love to his meal, and watching him eat this was going to be painful. Literally.
The food was delicious. Neither Richard nor Tikron said much while they savored their meal. But just as Richard suspected, by the time he set his fork down, he was ready to explode, and it had nothing to do with his stomach. That part of him was pleasingly satisfied.
Dante appeared next to the table just as Tikron finished his last bite. “I trust everything was to your satisfaction.”
Tikron patted his stomach. “As usual, you outdid yourself.”
“Best meal I’ve ever had,” Richard complimented with utter sincerity.
Dante preened while he removed the empty plates. “I have left dessert chilling near the champagne. If there is nothing else I can get for you, I’ll take my leave.”
“Thank you. I believe we’ll be fine.”
“Yes, thank you,” Richard added. “It truly was a wonderful meal.”
“Thank you, and a very happy birthday to you, Master Tikron.” A swirl of light spun around the table, then engulfed Dante from his feet to his head, and with a poof, he was gone, leaving the table as pristine as it had been before they sat down.
Tikron laughed. “Ah, Dante. He has always had a flair for the theatrics, but his food is out of this world.”
“Whew, I have got to learn that spell,” Richard marveled. “Definitely makes cleanup quicker and way more fun.”
“Maybe one day I’ll teach you.” Just then the music, which had been playing low, increased in volume. Tikron went to his feet and held out his hand. “May I have this dance?”
“I don’t know how to dance.” But even as he protested, Richard took Tikron’s hand.
TIKRON led Richard to the center of the room, then pulled him into his arms. “Think of it as foreplay with your clothes on,” Tikron said, then begin to sway.
“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”
“No?”
“Nope. That meal was like foreplay, and I’m not sure how much longer I can hold back.”
“Dante is a master in the kitchen.”
“Yes, he is,” Richard agreed. “But I was talking about watching you enjoy it that really got me worked up. Or maybe it was the wine that has me all tingly.”
“We’ll have to do a little test,” Tikron said. As they swayed against each other, Tikron dipped his head and brushed his lips gently along Richard’s neck, then kissed the sensitive spot beneath his ear. He moaned huskily as he licked and tasted the salt of Richard’s skin. Richard shuddered. “It’s definitely me.” Tikron chuckled. “Good to know.”
Tikron steered them toward the rug near the fireplace and, as the song ended, encouraged Richard down onto the rug. Tikron ran his fingertip along the smooth skin of Richard’s jaw. “I can’t think of a better way to spend my birthday than here with you.”
“I have a confession to make. The décor, the dinner, the music, it was all Ry’s doing.” Richard went to his feet. “Be right back.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’ll only be gone a second. I have something for you.”
Tikron stretched his legs out before the fire. He’d known about Ry’s birthday theme; Ry had told him as much. What Tikron didn’t know was what Richard had gotten him. Ry had been vague, only saying it was a game changer. He had a sneaking suspicion what it might be and prayed he wasn’t wrong.
Richard returned with a small box topped with a bright red bow. He went to his knees next to Tikron, Richard’s cheeks nearly the same shade as the bow. He didn’t immediately hand it to Tikron.
“Ry helped me with this too, sort of.”
“Sort of?” Tikron questioned.
“More like he helped me discover it.”
Richard continued to pick at the ribbon, head down.
“Are you going to let me see it, or do you plan on driving me crazy with suspense?”
Richard hesitated for a second longer, then finally thrust the box at Tikron without saying a word.
Tikron tugged at the end of the ribbon till the bow gave way, and he set it aside. He lifted the lid to find a small red paper heart. He picked it up and turned it over, expecting there to be writing on it. There was none.
“I wanted to give you the real thing,” Richard explained. “But I kind of need to keep it where it’s at. It’s not all that great—low on experience, unused and unsure—but it’s yours if you want it. I’m still struggling with whether what I am in feeling for you is love, but I know I want to explore it with you and am willing to put my heart on the line to do so.”
Tikron closed his hand around the heart and swallowed down the lump of emotion that welled up in his throat. “You have no idea what you’ve given me. This is the purest form of magic. I promise to take good care of it.” He took Richard’s hand and pressed it to his chest. “As long as you promise to take good care of mine as well, because it’s yours.”
“Always,” Richard whispered.
Tikron carefully eased Richard down onto the rug. He took his time exploring every inch of Richard. There was no rush. If the world ended tomorrow, he would have this one perfect night with the man who meant the most in it.