Better Than Safe (25 page)

“I don’t—here… take some. You gave me too much and it’s touching my rice.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“Not at all.” I eyed him expectantly when he stared at me blankly.

“Try it. If you don’t like it, I’ll eat it. Back to the game. I’ll explain the rules so—”

“This is not the evening I had in mind. I thought we’d eat, perhaps watch a movie, and then…. I didn’t plan on slouching in front of the telly with takeout, playing video games.”

“Hmm.” Seth took a bite of chow mein and neatly dabbed the corner of his mouth with his napkin before turning toward me. “I want to point out that you sound like a brat, but I’m gonna be diplomatic here. Hangin’ out eating Chinese and playing games might not be your first choice, but that’s because you’ve never done it. So let’s make a deal… we’ll give it a try and if you hate it, we’ll watch a movie or whatever you want to do. I think that’s called compromise and I’ve heard it’s a good thing. Sound okay?”

I set my plate on the coffee table and studied Seth’s profile. He may have been the one who walked in wearing a hoodie and carrying video games, but the amused glance he cast my way was fused with a sensual heat that was far from immature. I swallowed hard and nodded, not because I agreed with his plan, but because I wanted to be with him. I wanted to hear his attempt at explaining something I had absolutely no interest in simply to know what was going through his head. Did he think he’d change my mind? How soon would it take before he realized this was an exercise in futility? Would he be patient or would this be one of those “aha” moments when we finally caught on that our age difference made a bigger difference than we hoped?

“All right. One hour.”

Seth’s wide, radiant grin made my acquiescence worthwhile. I hid my answering smile behind my wineglass and listened with half an ear as he explained things like how to recognize man coverage and to watch out for the safeties.

“You know I don’t understand a word you’re saying, right?”

“It’s okay. You’ll see when we play. Ready?”

“I suppose, but I’ll warn you… I hate losing. And since I’m at a terrible disadvantage, the results are a given, which in turn means I will be extremely out of sorts when this experiment is over in forty-five minutes. Proceed at your own risk,” I advised, leaning forward to set my empty plate on the table.

Seth chuckled as he stood to gather our plates and empty containers. He dug in one of the bags and set two fortune cookies aside before turning to the kitchen. “I’m brave. I’ll risk your wrath, and if out of sorts is code for crankier than you already are… I’m mentally prepared to deal.”

I could have sworn he grumbled something about old guys, but I tuned him out and reached for one of the plastic wrapped fortunes.

“Uh uh. Put it down.”

“Excuse me?”

“No fortune till after we play. Alrighty….” He sat next to me so our shoulders brushed, and gave me a wicked grin as he pushed the extra controller into my hands. “Now you’re the quarterback. You are leading the play, but once the ball is out of your hands, you have to trust the receiver to do his job so….”

As he babbled on in an excited tone, I experienced another one of those odd out-of-body moments when you’re surprised to find yourself where you are. Yes, this was my home and everything seemed to be in place, but I didn’t recognize myself or my situation. I looked from the buttons on the handheld controller to the lifelike figures dressed in full American football gear on the large screen across the room. It was a mystery. I could decipher the basic concept—the two teams were battling to score by getting to the other end of the field—but I didn’t understand the “strategy” he was explaining.

Maybe there was no real mystery. After all, Seth was a gorgeous man with a quick mind, and the mere thought of being naked with him made me hard. It was the unscripted bits that didn’t mesh with my lifestyle I had a difficult time understanding. Like video games on a Friday evening. My prick wasn’t involved in the equation, so this wasn’t about sex. It was puzzling. Perhaps I was more curious about his motivation. Why was he wasting time with someone eleven years his senior who wasn’t interested in sports or gaming? He could have been at a bar with people his own age. Hanging out with me had to be… boring.

“…it’s better to hit ’em with a regular tackle than—”

“Why are you here?”

Seth blinked and furrowed his brow. “Geez, I thought it was a hunger thing. You’re grumpier than I thought. I guess I should make an exception and let you eat the fortune cookie now.”

He tossed the wrapped cookie at me and gave me an “I hope that works” look that made me chuckle in spite of myself.

“Answer me. Why aren’t you out with friends at a bar or a club? It’s Friday. I—I wouldn’t be offended if you chose to be with people your own age.”

Silence. He glared at me long enough to make me flinch before reaching for the other fortune cookie and methodically unwrapping it.

“You’re an asshole. Open your fuckin’ fortune.”

“I’m not try—”

“Really? Believe it or not, Paul, telling me you come by it naturally doesn’t make it better. I’m here because I want to be. I don’t do anything I don’t want to. I’m not programmed to please. I don’t give a shit what people think. I don’t care where they think I should be or who I oughta be with. I thought you kinda got that. If you didn’t want me to come over, you shouldn’t have invited me.”

I watched him crack open the cookie. He set the unread fortune aside and nibbled on one half before glancing at me with an expectant look, no doubt inviting me to stick my other foot in my mouth.

“I didn’t mean it that way and I think you know that.”

“Hmph. Your English sucks, then.”

I huffed a short laugh as I unwrapped the cookie to give my hands something to do while I tried to explain myself.

“I hate it when anyone begins a sentence this way, but… when I was your age, thirty-five sounded old. I suppose I’m… curious. It seems logical you’d want to go to clubs or—”

“I don’t. And you’re right. That sounded lame. Look….” He shifted, bringing his right knee to rest on the sofa as he turned to face me. “I’m only twenty-four, but I’ve done my share of partying. I was sneaking into clubs when I was sixteen, doing drugs and other shit I had no business doing. I was in a band with my best friend and his folks were total hippies. I got caught kissing him, had the shit beat out of me, and got kicked to the curb while Rand’s parents bought him condoms and told him to practice safe sex. They never cared where he went as long as he came home in one piece. By the time I went to Milan to model, I could party like a rock star. And I did. I told you when you came to the show in Baltimore the after-parties weren’t my scene. I’ve been there, done that. I’m not interested in hangin’ around idiots snorting drugs in grungy bathrooms and drinking their weight in vodka. That isn’t my life anymore. I may not be as boring as you….” He paused to give me a teasing sneer before continuing, “But I keep it simple for a reason. I don’t want to dilute my reality and fuck up my work.

“It’s why I got out of runway modeling. I don’t want to jet from New York to Paris to Milan anymore. It was a rush and I loved it for a while, but I like where I am now. I don’t want to go backward. I love music and playing guitar, but I don’t want to be in a band. I like my day job, but I don’t want to model forever. Going from runways to print ads only is my way of weaning myself from the business. I went from being a sheltered kid to being a reckless young adult with a whack sense of mortality. One extreme to the other. I found my happy medium and yeah, it’s a little unconventional, but I’m not going to apologize or worry about what anyone else thinks anymore.”

Seth chomped into the other half of his fortune cookie with a sardonic expression in place. It was a funny way to say “fuck you” with flare. “If you don’t want me here, that’s another thing. But I don’t think that’s it. I think you’re grouchy and you don’t like not knowing how to do something.” He rolled his eyes derisively and added, “Like play a fucking video game.”

“I apologize. I didn’t—I didn’t mean to insult you.”

“Apology accepted,” he said in a patient, paternal tone. “Now what does your fortune say?”

I snorted and shook my head, but decided I probably deserved his censure. I opened the tiny white folded scrap of paper and cleared my throat before reading it aloud.

“The greatest risk is not taking one.”

“Hmm.”

“What does yours say?”

He cleared his throat dramatically and unfolded the fortune like he was handling the much-anticipated final results at an award show.

“It says, ‘Your shoes will make you happy today.’ What the hell? You got Confucius and I got ‘Be happy with your crappy Converse.’ Life is unfair.”

I laughed loudly, throwing my head against the cushions, and impulsively pulled him into my side to give him a sloppy kiss on his cheek. He scowled and tried halfheartedly to shove me away, but I held him close and tilted his chin so he’d look at me.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

He turned to mold his chest to mine and licked at my lips. “Even if I’m a risk?”

I pulled back to study him. His dark lashes, blue eyes, and inscrutable expression. He was a risk. It wasn’t a joke. I could feel the ground slip under my feet every time he was near. I loved that he not only put me in my place for what was probably reverse ageism, but had the grace to do so with humor. I was beginning to realize he wasn’t dangerous because he was a young, quirky nonconformist or the artistic type I’d sworn off years ago. No, he was dangerous because he was a resilient force with a brilliant mind and a kind soul he did his best to downplay.

“Yes, even though you brought toys I didn’t want to play with, I’m still glad you’re here.”

Seth’s eyes widened. He slid his left leg over my thigh and shifted to straddle my lap. I let out a grunt of surprise, but circled my arms around his waist to keep him where he was.

“I brought the wrong kind, didn’t I? I wasn’t thinking. I should have brought my other toys.”

His husky voice and naughty smirk told me exactly what kind of toys he meant, but I looked up at him with a blank expression as I ran my hands down his sides. “What other toys?”

“Checkers, chess, Monopoly….”

“Hmm mmm.” I slipped my hand under his T-shirt, desperate to feel his skin. He leaned back and tugged his shirt over his head in a swift maneuver, then turned his attention to the row of buttons on mine.

“But I don’t like the regular rules. They get boring fast. It’s fun to make up your own and add incentives.”

“Such as?” I gasped when he pinched my nipples and gyrated his hips, rocking into me suggestively.

“Instead of checker pieces, you can use colored condoms. Every time you lose a piece, you have to grant a sexual favor of your opponent’s choice. Blow job, hand job, or… you can incorporate other things like a butt plug—”

“Enough,” I said sharply as I dragged his head down to silence him. I plunged my tongue inside his mouth, delighting as he groaned loudly and yanked my hair. I pushed him back to lick his neck and bite one ear. “Let’s go upstairs. I want you.”

“No. Stay here.”

“But—”

“Let’s do it some place we haven’t yet. Over the sofa or the coffee table, I don’t care. Let’s fuck someplace we haven’t yet. We’ll make a list and check it off every time we do it somewhere new. Your office, your car…. Uh. Fuck that’s hot.” He unbuckled and unzipped my khakis so fast my head spun when his warm hand covered my rigid flesh. “I thought about it that night I blew you in your car. Did you?”

He chuckled when I made a guttural noise, and he stroked me with his left hand and worked on unbuttoning his jeans with his right.

“Did you think about pulling over and parking in some dark lot where we could fuck like bunnies in the backseat? I could ride you like I am now.”

“You aren’t riding me. You’re teasing me.”

“I can change that.”

And he did. Our clothes were strewn across the sofa and the floor and his dirty talk was soon replaced by the sound of our labored breathing. I let him lead. He wanted to sit on my cock and ride me mercilessly while he made up a story about being in my car, fucking at the side of a busy street with people slowing to see what was going on. His smutty tale and his ability to paint a pornographic visual while relentlessly sliding up and down my shaft made it difficult to see straight. I knew I wouldn’t last long. I flipped him to his back and plowed into him wildly until I was blindsided by an orgasm so powerful I could have sworn my heart stopped. When it resumed beating, I was left trembling and panting for breath. I held him through the aftermath of his release a moment later, tenderly cradling his head and kissing his forehead until the shaking subsided. I figured he’d push me away when my weight overwhelmed him, but he didn’t. He wrapped his arms around my neck and held me closer when I tried to back away.

“Stay. This feels good. Safe.”

Something inside me stilled. I couldn’t decipher his meaning. Safe. He was safe with me or I was safe with him? Why that word? How was this safe? It was reckless and foolhardy. Certainly not safe.

However, it was sublime. And for now, that was enough.