Cast Off (12 page)

“You little prick. Where the hell do you get off?”

If Rick hadn’t been so damned mad, he’d have had made a joke about getting off at the end of Ian’s dick, but there was nothing funny about this.

A lighthearted laugh cut through the heavy, angry tension between them. Rick glanced at the rest of the room and remembered he was at a party.

“I’m not doing this here.” Or ever, actually. He took a moment to assess that he did in fact have keys and wallet before he pushed past Ian and out of the house. He’d apologize to Davy and Kurt later for his precipitous departure, but he wasn’t going to embarrass them or himself by having some weird screaming match with Kurt’s brother. Ian may have given him some spectacular orgasms in the past two weeks, but there was no reason for all this… emotion.

He slowed as soon as he exited, the déjà vu surprisingly strong, considering how dissimilar the circumstances of him leaving Ian behind this evening were, compared to two memorable mornings. Despair, black and sticky, wound tendrils through his chest, making it hard to breathe. Could this be a side effect of the wine? Maybe he drank it too fast? Surely he wasn’t upset because this meant he could never sleep with Ian again.

“What the fuck?”

Rick flinched. He shouldn’t have slowed once he’d left, but he truly hadn’t expected Ian to follow him. The sudden spurt of relief that Ian had followed him was more terrifying than the despair. Because he didn’t get like this about guys he was fucking. It wasn’t smart, it wasn’t possible, and it wasn’t safe for him to get involved. It wasn’t going to happen.

“Rick.” Some of the anger had bled out of Ian’s tone, but it was too late. Rick walked down the driveway and across the street, toward his car, without even glancing over his shoulder. Ian might be one sexy bastard, but Rick didn’t need this. His fingers twitched, seeking a cigarette he hadn’t smoked in over a decade.

Standing beside the driver’s side door, he fumbled trying to get the keys out of his pocket.

Ian’s footsteps alerted him to his presence. Why wasn’t he going to let this go? They didn’t mean anything to each other; they weren’t even friends. There was no reason for this doggedness, even if he grudgingly admired Ian’s determination.

Whirling around, he backed up against his car.

“Who’d you wear this for? Him?” Ian’s voice was low, with an almost menacing undertone.

“What?”

Ian hadn’t appeared drunk, but no other explanation came to mind.

“This.” Ian stepped close and ran his hands up Rick’s chest from waist to pecs before pinching his nipples through the sheer shirt. “Did you wear it for Ivan?”

“No.” The apparent jealousy surprised the denial out of him. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

Ian’s lip curled up in a semisnarl. “Who, then? Kurt? Davy? All of them?”

Rick’s brows rose. Where the hell had that come from? Maybe it didn’t matter. Ian might be too volatile and emotional to add to his roster. He’d learned his lesson with Oscar, but that didn’t change his stupid hope that he and Ian could maintain a sexual relationship on his terms. Even the fact he was waffling over this should have him running away at top speed. Instead he glared at Ian.

“Maybe you could take your hands off my tits.” He put as much venom in his voice as he could, since Ian had already discovered how much he enjoyed nipple play and he didn’t want to give Ian the chance to dissolve his anger in a haze of lust.

Under other circumstances, the harder pinch Ian responded with would have sent Rick to his knees, mouth open for a cock. Tonight, though, had been an emotional roller coaster, with Ian at its vortex. Ian’s attitude killed any possibility of an erection.

“What the fuck is the matter with you?” Rick shoved Ian back, heedless of the fingers still groping him.

Ian stumbled back, his eyes draped in a shadow cast by a nearby streetlight. The deep gloom prevented Rick from determining if Ian was more or less pissed off than before, but Rick had learned long ago to defend himself when necessary.

Rick waited while Ian chewed at his lip. “I just… I thought….”

“Thought what? Acting like a jealous asshole would make me… suck your dick in front of your family? Attacking me on the street would get me to spread my ass on the hood of my car? Or was it Ivan finding someone else that’s got a burr up your butt?”

“No, no….” Ian had trouble coming up with a response, but Rick hadn’t really intended for there to be a good response to his questions. “I didn’t realize you and Ivan had slept together.”

“Oh, so being a douchebag is the correct response to that information? Good to know, darling. I’ll remember that next time you meet a fuck buddy of mine.”

Ian pressed his lips together.

Good. Every word out of Ian’s mouth tonight only dug him deeper in shit. The amazing thing was that Rick was sticking around long enough to watch him sink.

“Honey, neither of us were virgins. But neither were we in a relationship. We had sex. Twice. And after this… nonsense, we’ll have to be content with that. Clearly we want different things.”

Ian grunted like Rick had punched him in the stomach. Strangely, Rick was also having trouble breathing, like he’d taken an unexpected blow to the solar plexus.

“See you around.” Rick turned back to his car and fished the keys out of his pocket.

The restraining grip on his shoulder was firm but not painful. “Please, I’m sorry.”

Rick let his head fall forward for a moment, contemplating breaking another rule. He took a deep breath and gave in to Ian’s wordless request to turn around.

This time, he didn’t say anything. He just waited. And told himself he was giving Ian a second chance only because the man was Kurt’s brother and he didn’t want to cause discord in his friendship with Davy.

Ian’s hand drew slowly away and moved to rub the back of his neck, the move indicative of some internal distress.

“I’m sorry, Rick. You’re right. I was an asshole. And I know I have no reason to be. We’re not boyfriends, we’re not friends, we’re nothing. I’ve never gotten jealous like that. Not ever.”

Which scared Rick, but there wasn’t any denying how gratifying it was to hear. Not that he could let anything come of it.

“I’ve been going through some stuff. You know I just came out, right? Well, when I took you home, that was the first time I’d taken anyone home.”

Rick snorted. He wasn’t actually going to take Rick’s joke about being a virgin and claim it was the truth, was he? No one, not even Casanova himself was that naturally talented. Playing a man’s body like a finely tuned instrument came of years of practice. “Don’t lie to me. There’s no way you were a virgin.”

A surprised laugh escaped Ian’s lips. “Uh. No. I haven’t been a virgin for a long time.” Ian sighed. “Can we go somewhere? I know I need to apologize and explain and maybe we could do that somewhere more comfortable than standing in the street.”

He wasn’t falling for that. Again. “Coffee? Not at your place.” He’d have to get decaf, this late.

“Sure. Of course.” Ian looked around as though a Starbucks was going to materialize right there. Then again, maybe Ian wasn’t familiar with the area. Davy’s house wasn’t especially close to Boystown, and Ian’s condo was kissing distance from Charles Street.

“There’s a coffee shop two blocks north of here on Jane. Follow me.” Rick sighed as Ian stopped his forward momentum abruptly. Without Ian’s touch mesmerizing him, he wasn’t going to break his no-transportation rule again.

“Right. Yes. My car’s around the corner. I’ll just be a minute.” Ian stared at him a moment as if assessing whether Rick was going to take off the minute he turned his back. Which was no less than Ian deserved, and was the wisest course for all concerned, but Rick knew he wouldn’t do that to Ian. Age was making him soft. He’d better not be this lenient with everyone he slept with from now on.

I
AN
followed Rick into the coffee shop, remorse and regret killing any urge to indulge. He paid for their decaf lattes and let Rick lead them to a corner with plush chairs. It was surprisingly secluded.

Over the rim of his cup, he let his gaze wander while Rick added four packets of sweetener and stirred. Under the fluorescent lights, Rick’s sexy gay nod to Goth couture should have looked harsh or overdone. But he looked just as sexy here as he had at Kurt’s and outside in the dark summer night.

The sheer burgundy fabric looked stunning with Rick’s golden-blond coloring. Even though it left nothing to the imagination, Ian still wanted to rip it from his shoulders. Then there were the skintight pants. Stripping Rick down to nothing would be a challenge but a welcome one.

Ian lifted his eyes to take in Rick’s eye makeup. It was outrageous enough that even the late-night coffee shop cashier had blinked, but Ian had been hard the second he’d seen it. Ian had fucked a number of guys who wore makeup. He’d always liked it well enough, but something about the dramatic contrast to Rick’s light coloring made it seem so much more deliberately sensual.

Lack of blood to his brain wasn’t much of an excuse for his shitty behavior, but it certainly was a factor. He hoped Rick would understand.

Focusing his gaze on his own cup, he realized he hadn’t doctored his latte. He quickly stirred in a sugar and lifted his gaze to find Rick staring at him as though he was an alien species.

He sighed and took a sip and manfully held back a wince. Too fucking hot. He set his cup down on the table and settled back into the chair.

“So.”
Great start, Ian
. Rick would be unable to resist him after that stellar beginning.

“So,” Rick mimicked him, but with a tiny lilt like he was amused at Ian’s turmoil.

“I wasn’t lying. You were the first man I’d taken home. You were the first man I had sex with in a bed.”

Rick’s eyes rounded comically before narrowing, suspicion glinting in those blue eyes.

“But not a virgin.” Ian forestalled the question.

“No. Impossible. There’s no way. How could it possibly be that good?” Even though Rick didn’t sound pleased, his words still brought an embarrassed blush to Ian’s cheeks. Guys he’d fucked had never complained, but knowing he’d made it good for Rick was deeply satisfying. And the knowledge didn’t do a damn thing to deflate his erection.

“Look. I’m not a virgin. You saw me at Anaconda.”

Rick’s eyes narrowed again. “Yes, I did. Steve.”

God. He rarely went to Anaconda, preferring to find a like-minded man at a club that catered more to his age group, but he’d been trying to put Rick out of his mind, and he’d thought Anaconda would be the last place he’d find Rick.

No one had caught his eye until he noticed a slender blond dancing on the dance floor, his back muscles glistening from the sweat of exertion. Ian hadn’t ever had a type, but sleeping with Rick had apparently triggered one, and he’d gone in for the kill. Only to find he’d zeroed in on the very man he’d been trying to purge from his mind.

Once he’d had Rick in his arms, though, he’d lost all of his upset over Rick’s stealthy departure from his bed. He’d been determined to fuck Rick into oblivion, or failing that, sleep lightly enough to distract Rick from leaving his bed in the morning. He’d failed on both counts, and he’d still done nothing but brood about the loss.

“I’m no monk. I’ve fucked lots of guys.” More than he should probably admit. “But I’ve been in the closet until recently. I’ve never dared to go home with anyone, nor have I trusted anyone to come home with me. I’ve fucked guys behind clubs and in bathrooms, but I’ve never had the luxury of time. I’ve never been able to explore, or let them explore me. I know we’re not boyfriends or husbands or committed in any way. I know it was just sex.” He wasn’t entirely convinced it was just sex for him, though, but Rick was already skittish enough. Ian wasn’t going to admit he was interested in more if it was only going to make Rick bolt. But there was something about Rick’s obvious fear of commitment that attracted Ian. Stupidly perhaps, but he sensed it wasn’t due to lack of interest or an overwhelming desire to fuck anything that moved. There was a reason behind that fear, and Ian wanted to know what.

“Then why the jealous freak-out?”

“It wasn’t jealousy, not exactly.” Yes, exactly, but even Ian knew jealousy was too crazy and presumptuous for such a short acquaintance. “It was more that I was… hurt. The way you snuck out of my bed made me feel inadequate. Like you were embarrassed that you’d sunk so low as to sleep with a loser like me.”

“Honey, I’m sorry I made you feel that way. I don’t regret sleeping with you, at all.” Unexpectedly, Rick’s mocking remoteness disappeared and he reached over to pat Ian’s arm. Even that tiny contact made his skin tingle. He had no idea if his attraction to Rick had anything to do with him being the first after coming out, but he had to keep Rick in his life.

“I’m glad, because it was the best I’ve ever had.”

Perhaps it wasn’t cool to admit that, especially when Rick had been so determined to ditch him, but Ian wouldn’t call back those words. Not when they caused a blush to rise in Rick’s cheeks and caused the man to lose his normal insouciance.

“Oh, uh, honey, that’s….” Flustered, Rick’s gaze darted around the coffee shop as though the other patrons might be able to tell him what to say next.

Charmed beyond belief, Ian could only stare.

Rick sipped at his latte, trying to recover his composure. It wasn’t hard to tell when he’d gathered his shield around him, because he set his cup down and looked at Ian with a saucy little grin.

“We need some ground rules. If we’re going to keep doing this.”

“Shoot.” He wasn’t quite sure he was ready to agree to anything Rick laid out as rules, but he was definitely okay erring on the side of what made Rick more comfortable. He might be open to exploring a relationship, but he suspected neither of them had any idea how to conduct one. Which meant that right now, all that mattered was keeping Rick talking to him. Talking was usually something he was good at. He spent forty hours a week trying to negotiate the most reasonable and beneficial compromises for all parties involved. There was no reason he couldn’t do that in his personal life.