Better Than Safe (7 page)

“Sorry. It’s a bit strong,” I said with a smile. I pulled the desk chair around to face him and leaned forward to clink our glasses together. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.”

Our eyes held over the rims of our glasses. I racked my brain for something clever to say, but I was too distracted by my guest. He’d rebuttoned his denim shirt so he wasn’t showing nearly as much skin as he had during the show. But the fabric clung to his toned physique in all the right places. I swallowed hard and settled back in the chair. Conversation, I reminded myself. I could manage this.

“The show was very good. How long have you been with your band?”

Seth’s eyes twinkled. I could tell he wanted to tease me for my wooden tone and my stiff accent. Instead he leaned back on his right arm and took a smaller sip before answering.

“Six months maybe, but longer if you count high school. I think we started playing in Rand’s parents’ garage when we were fourteen. Ha! I guess that makes me a founding member. Whatever. I played off and on with them until I left for Europe when I was seventeen. Now, I help out when I can. Rand calls when his regular guitarist is ‘indisposed.’”

“What does that mean?”

“Drunk, high, MIA… you name it. Rand wants me to reclaim my spot, but I’m not interested. I should stop doing it at all.”

“Why? You seem to enjoy it.”

“Yeah, but I’m not serious and Rand is. The lifestyle isn’t for me. Like tonight. The guys will stay and party till they can barely stand, then they’ll either go home or wake up in a strange bed around noon and press repeat. I’m not good at the whole ‘pack’ mentality thing either, you know? Rand is the indisputable leader and he wants to run the show his way. That’s cool, but I don’t take direction well and we… it just doesn’t work.”

“Is he your boyfriend or an ex?”

Seth grinned then burst out laughing. “You’ve been dying to ask me that, huh? You’re so… prim and proper, but then not really.” He took another long drink and averted his eyes as though he was embarrassed.

“Be careful. I was generous with the vodka.”

“I can tell. I’m feeling tipsy already.”

“So…?”

“Hmm? Oh Rand. Yeah, we’re friends. Nothing else.”

“Really? If he’s the same man who was chatting you up before you got in the cab with me, I’d say he’s under the impression there is much more between you.”

Seth smiled wanly. “There isn’t. We just have history, that’s all.” He snorted derisively and shook the ice in his glass lazily before continuing. “I s’pose technically he’s an ex but now he’s just a good friend who worries too much. Like a fucking mother hen.”

I studied him for a moment. Talking about Rand obviously agitated him, but I was too curious to leave it alone.

“Is he from Baltimore too?”

“Yeah. We were neighbors growing up. His family lived down the block from mine. It was like the perfect slice of American pie. Block parties, baseball in the streets, kids running wild….”

“Sounds nice.” I smiled wanly thinking his description was rather idyllic and certainly nothing like my own upbringing in the English countryside.

“It was, I guess. But then you grow up and it all goes to hell in a Gucci handbag. Can I have ’nother?” He held out his glass and shook it slightly. When I didn’t take it immediately, he added, “Please.”

I rolled my eyes and refreshed both our drinks, going much lighter on the alcohol this time. So much for one drink.

“At some point we figured out we were little gay boys. His folks were cool with it, but mine beat the fuck out of me and kicked me to the curb.” He took his glass and flashed a dark grin devoid of humor at me before swallowing half the contents.

“Slow down. You’ll make yourself ill.”

“Hmph. It takes a lot more than a couple vodkas to do any damage, baby. The worst that will happen is I’ll say something I shouldn’t, like tell you a bunch of crappy family stories. No. I won’t do that to you, but I gotta admit, I don’t get it sometimes.”

“What don’t you get?” I prodded.

“I don’t get people. I don’t understand cruelty or what draws you to the same idiots. I don’t know why Sim—hmph. Some people are like drugs, you know? ’Nough about him. That asshole will be fine without me and I’ll be better too. Way better.” He shook his head as though attempting to clear his mind of negative thoughts then gave me a small grin. “What made you come tonight? I’m glad you did. I was surprised.”

I shrugged, a little confused with his ping-pong style of chatter. I set my glass on the desk knowing I had to slow down or risk a scorching hangover in the morning.

“Impulse, perhaps. I was curious about you after you regaled me with an impromptu critique of Chaucer and the Church.”

Seth chuckled and sat up on the bed. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. “I couldn’t help it. You should have seen your face. Priceless. Nothing like making a snobby English dude who’s pretty sure stupid Americans don’t know shit about literature blink a few times.”

“Touché. I apologize. In my defense, you gave a decent first impression of being rather….”

“What? Brainless?”

“No. Indifferent. If I thought you were witless, I doubt we’d be sitting here now.”

“Gee, I’m honored.”

“Right,” I snorted. “Since you’re here, tell me how you know so much about English literature.”

His eyes sparked with humor.

“Is this the kind of stuff you say to get guys in bed? Does it work? Don’t answer. I might get hard.” He chuckled when I rolled my eyes in response. “Okay…. English literature,” he said with a short laugh. “I read a lot. I like mysteries and sci-fi stuff more than classics. I loved Harry Potter and The Lord of the Rings. I have a great memory for books that pack a visual punch, you know what I mean?”

“I think so, but—”

“I see words as pictures and add color in my mind. Everyone does that probably but in my head, they go a little wild. Colors collide and figures take weird shapes. And anything can act as a catalyst. I’m never sure where my muse comes from sometimes. It can come from a cool character in a book, song lyrics, a woman pushing a baby in a stroller. Anything, anywhere. Once it hits, I’m consumed. All I want to do is paint.”

“Do you show your work?”

Seth nodded and took another drink. “I’ve had shows at tiny offbeat places or art in the park kind of gigs, but I have a
real
exhibit coming up.” His eyes twinkled with a mischievous glee. “It’s a huge one in October at Harry Weltzer’s gallery in Dupont Circle. It’s the biggest one I’ve ever done. He wanted ten pieces. Eight are done, one is in process, and the other is—well, it hasn’t come to me. Yet.” He grinned with a cocky confidence that seemed better suited to his rock star persona than a conflicted artist.

“I’m sure it will. I’d love to see your work sometime. If you’re willing to show it, that is.”

Seth nodded in a manner that suggested he didn’t want to commit, but he’d consider my request. I smiled, hoping to convey I understood his reticence. Artists were a finicky bunch. Many wouldn’t consider sharing until they were good and ready. I steered the conversation toward general art-related topics. We talked for a while about painting techniques, artists we liked, and the best museums in DC.

“We’re so lucky to have the Smithsonian. Free access to some of the most important works in the world. Exposure to art is… so crucial. I sound melodramatic but—”

“No. I agree. A whole day spent lost in a museum is my idea of heaven.”

“Me too. We should do it together sometime.” Seth’s smile was sweetly earnest. I returned it, though I was aware my expression was a little sappy. I couldn’t help it. Vodka was partially responsible, but the truth was he intrigued me. And surprised me. I was struck by the same stab of longing I’d felt a few hours ago when he was on stage with his band. It was more dangerous now because we were alone and I had his undivided attention. I swallowed hard and raised my glass to my mouth.

His cocked his head and furrowed his brow thoughtfully.

“What is it?” My voice sounded hoarse, like it belonged to someone else.

Seth brushed his hair behind his ear and gave me a lopsided grin. “Nothing. Look, not that it matters maybe but… the reason I was late for coffee was—I was in my studio and I lost track of time. I just…. If you wanted to go to a museum or get coffee in DC or whatever, I wouldn’t be late again. That’s all.”

I stared at him for a long moment unsure how to respond. His extension of the apology he’d offered earlier was just as awkward. But he sounded so damn sincere and he looked very fucking lovely sitting at the edge of a hotel bed with a drink resting on his knee. I was hopelessly charmed. I inclined my head and smiled.

“I’d like that. I wasn’t angry, by the way.” I chuckled at his wide-eyed look of comic disbelief before continuing. “Maybe I was. I assumed you were uninterested.”

His pointed gaze turned sultry. “I’m very interested.”

I felt my chest tighten as my heart fluttered like a caged bird desperate for escape. My palms were sweaty and though I was suddenly desperate for a drink, I was afraid my hand would shake and give me away. I couldn’t understand how a cocky, long-haired punk eight years my junior could possess such hypnotic sensuality. I swallowed nervously but held his stare, determined not to be thrown off guard by his divine body or gorgeous face.

“Uh… well, I have a meeting in the morning,” I said weakly.

Seth nodded and set his glass on the desk, then held out his right hand. I stared at it for a second before tentatively touching my fingers to his. He grinned like a madman and yanked me onto the bed, pulling me into his side with one arm around my waist. I laughed as I pushed at his chest, struggling to keep perspective. I was sitting in a hotel room after midnight, drinking vodka sodas with a ridiculously beautiful man. What was holding me back? He was interested and the bulge tenting my khakis made it difficult to deny I felt the same way.

“So what you’re saying is….” He reached out to trace my cheek with his thumb before setting it over my bottom lip, “…
you’re
not interested.”

I was as mesmerized by his rough husky tone as I was by the powerful haze of eroticism he emanated. I held my breath and waited to see what he’d do or say next. He leaned forward and ever so gently removed his thumb to place a gentle kiss on my lips. A whisper light touch, nothing more. But he didn’t pull away. He went completely still, as though silently suggesting it was up to me to make the next move. I closed my eyes and inhaled his musky, manly scent. It was a heady aphrodisiac. If I wasn’t careful I could devour him.

My eyes fluttered open at the feel of him smiling against my mouth. When he hummed and started to pull away, I pounced. I held his face between my hands, surprising him with a crushing kiss. There was no finesse, no gentle persuasion. This was a manic and fiery response to a pent-up yearning I was through holding inside. Fuck propriety and coherent thought. I wanted him and I wasn’t about to let him go if there was a remote chance he felt the same way.

Seth groaned, angling his head slightly to deepen the connection. The first probing touch of his tongue sent a tingling sensation up my spine. I brushed my hand over his longish hair, entwining it through my fingers before giving in to temptation and pulling it back to expose his neck. I licked a path over his Adam’s apple and underneath his chin, reveling in the feel of our stubbled jaws rubbing together like sandpaper. Seth hiked his right leg over my thigh and pushed me down on the mattress. He straddled my hips, caging my head between his arms as he lowered his pelvis to grind his hard-on into me. I gasped at the incredible sensation and curled my leg around his waist to pull him closer. Even with two layers of clothing between us, the feel of him covering me and languidly rubbing his rigid member against mine was outrageously sexy. I arched off the bed in my quest to get closer. Seth’s tongue plunged inside my mouth. His kiss went from exploratory to demanding in a flash. I could barely breathe under the assault, but I didn’t care. I was desperate for more. Fingers pulled at fabric and groped for skin. My legs wrapped higher around his hips in a powerful hold. It felt so good, but it wasn’t nearly enough.

Seth sucked my bottom lip into his mouth and pulled back slightly.

“More.” I reached for his collar and yanked him forward.

He shook his head as he braced himself over me. “Yeah. No clothes.” He bent to lick my lips before kneeling back between my knees to work on my belt buckle.

I propped myself up on my elbows to watch him through half-hooded eyes. This was like a dream. A vodka-infused fantasy starring a gorgeous male model and inexplicably… me. I wasn’t drunk enough to blame alcohol for my impetuousness, but I was tipsy enough to not give a fuck. If this were just one very bad idea I’d regret in the morning, I’d deal with it then. Right now, there was a six-foot-two hunk between my thighs, unzipping my trousers. He slid his fingers under the elastic of my briefs, then looked down at me, silently asking my permission. I licked my lips and nodded. He smiled his approval and slipped the fabric over my ass. I struggled to sit up and yank my sweater over my head. I faltered when I heard his sharp intake of breath.

“God, you’re fuckin’ hot.”

I was stuck in black cashmere, unable to see and quickly losing the ability to breathe as I hastened to get my clothing over my head. Seth chuckled somewhere near the foot of the bed, tsking as he muttered something about being patient. He leisurely removed my shoes and socks, then slipped my khakis and briefs down my legs.

“Help me,” I mumbled.

I could hear the telltale sound of a belt buckle, a zipper, and the rustle of clothing as I fought to free my arms. This was torture. I’d effectively blindfolded myself and was surely missing the best part.

“Here. Let me do it.”

I could feel the heat of his bare skin as he climbed over me. I reached out to see how close he was just as he yanked at the fabric. It slipped easily from my head, but I was still wearing a white collared shirt with a ridiculously long row of buttons. I looked up intending to ask for assistance but my eyes got no further than the impressive, thick cock mere inches away. I gulped.