Cast Off (21 page)

I
NSTEAD
of the sweatpants he normally wore around the house, Rick pulled on a pair of simple black pajama bottoms. Sweatpants weren’t part of the style he showed the world, and he was a little hesitant to let Ian in on yet another secret so soon, however minor.

Clean and refreshed, he wandered into the kitchen.

Ian stood at the stove, clad in only his jeans and given that Rick had kicked the man’s jock out of the way just moments ago, there was nothing under that sexy, worn denim.

“Hey, big boy.” Rick sidled up to Ian and stroked a hand up a very nice bicep and across a rather pleasant pectoral. Ian wasn’t hugely muscular, but he was trim and fit and so fucking hot.

Ian grabbed his hand before it could explore farther south. “Hey now. None of that yet.” He leaned over and kissed Rick to ease the sting of what sounded like rejection.

“Why not?”

“Because, I don’t want you to starve to death. Food first, then….” Ian made an absolutely filthy, obscene gesture that Rick had no other way to interpret except as rimming. Blood rushed into his groin, and he wasn’t entirely sure he could eat when he was shaking from pure, inhibited lust.

“Uh. Can’t we skip breakfast?”

“Nope. Need to keep your blood sugar up, sweetheart. No passing out during sex.” Ian stirred the eggs in the pan.

Rick was going to protest waiting another second when the scent of sautéed vegetables and spices hit his nose and his stomach growled again, louder than before.

“Fine. Fine, we can eat first, I suppose.” It wouldn’t be that much of a sacrifice. Not if those eggs tasted as good as they smelled.

Ian grinned. “Sit down before you waste away.”

Like that would happen. He’d have to work out extra hard during the week to make up for missing his workout today.

“What did you want to do today?” Ian asked as he dished out eggs. “The farmer’s market, the movies….”

The assumption they’d spend the day together would normally have him searching for excuses, but Rick only smiled back.

“I don’t know. I… don’t think I’m ready to go out somewhere.” As much as he was enjoying the newness of this first relationship, he wasn’t ready to share it with the world.

“What about just staying in? Watch some DVDs.”

Yeah, he could do that. Simple, fun, and just enjoying each other’s company in a way they hadn’t—in a way Rick hadn’t allowed them to before now with his rules.

“Sure. I have a ton of movies.”

They ate in silence for a few minutes, Rick too damned hungry to do much more than compliment Ian and thank him for cooking.

Before he was finished, though, Ian put down his fork and stared at him thoughtfully.

“What?”

“Come with me to my brother’s wedding? Meet my family?”

Rick’s fingers shook badly enough that he, too, put his fork down.

“I don’t know, darling.”

“Please. It’s a small start. You don’t have to go as my
date
date. We can say you’re just a friend. But I want everyone to at least know you’re
my
friend too, not just Kurt’s. I don’t want to push you, but I hate not being able to tell people about you. I hate that Kurt gets to claim you as a friend and I don’t. I want to tell people about how great you are and how much fun we have together. Someday, I want to tell everyone what you mean to me, and this is a baby step toward that day.”

That mythical day far in the future seemed sunny and filled with rainbows, but Rick couldn’t help but want that too. If he was going to be with Ian, he’d need to learn how to deal with family. And a wedding might be ideal. Everyone would be too busy to pay him much attention.

“Fine. Yes. We’ll try it. But make sure you say friends only. I’m not ready to admit to more than that.”

Ian gave him a wide, happy smile and started eating again. Strangely, Rick still had his own appetite, even after agreeing to attend a dreaded family event. He, too, picked up his fork to finish Ian’s delicious eggs.

The second his plate was empty, Ian gathered the dishes and dropped them in the sink.

“Ready?”

“I guess. Did you want to pick out the first movie?”

Ian rolled his eyes. “We’ll do that later. We’ve got a prior engagement.”

The confusion lasted until Ian made his obscene rimming gesture and Rick was back where he’d been before breakfast—so horny he could barely stand it.

I
AN
couldn’t stop smiling. The movie was some overly dramatic black-and-white mystery. Wasn’t half-bad, actually, but certainly provided no reason for smiling. The man curled up next to him, faint breathy snores attesting to his exhaustion, was the reason.

Poor, sweet man. Ian had put all of his experience to the test after breakfast, and wore Rick out in the sexiest way possible. His jaw ached a bit, and Rick had been determined to follow through with their plan of lazing about and watching movies.

He’d spent weeks trying to get exactly where he was right now, and he wanted to shout to the world that he’d convinced Rick they could be good together. And they were.

Even more amazing was the fact that Rick had let him in. Now that he knew what Rick had gone through, he understood why Rick had been so gun-shy all those years. But gun-shy was no reason to be alone, and Ian was going to prove it to him.

All the angst Ian had had over hiding his sexuality all those years… well, it wasn’t nothing. It had been emotionally damaging in its own way, but Rick coming through his ordeal as strong and self-sufficient as he was…. Ian admired his new boyfriend’s fortitude more than ever. If he did nothing else, he was going to show Rick he could be trusted. Because he wanted the whole enchilada. He wanted everything with Rick, and more than ever, he believed they could have it.

Now if he could just convince Rick to attend one of his family functions—and not go running scared of his mom—Rick just might figure out families aren’t so bad. After all, he’d spent his whole life with his, and they were pretty great.

He rubbed Rick’s arm and tried to focus on the movie, but it was too late. He had no idea what was going on at this point, and he was more interested in Rick’s warm body than he was in whodunit. What he really wanted to know was if he left to grab a suit for work in the morning, would Rick let him stay another night. By tonight, they both should have recovered enough to wear themselves out again.

Lips laid gentle kisses on his side and he glanced down.

“Hey there.”

“Hey.” Rick smiled up at him under a wild mess of blond hair. Stunning, stunning man.

“Nice nap?”

Slightly abashed, Rick nodded. “Sorry I missed part of the movie.”

“Eh. You didn’t really miss much.”

“Well, now I’m even more sorry. You should have changed the movie.”

Ian shrugged. “It wasn’t terrible and I didn’t want to wake you. Did I tell you what a great place you’ve got here?”

“No, but thanks.”

The top floor of the house was maybe a little big for one person, but Rick had made it into a comfortable home. Making the ground floor into an office for his practice was a great plan, and he could barely believe Rick had managed all of this by himself.

“I bet the fireplace makes this room really cozy in the winter.”

“It does.”

“Just needs a piece of art over the mantle.” The bare wooden boards screamed for a portrait or abstract or something. “Is there a fireplace down in your office as well?”

“Yes, but not where I take clients. I was very lucky to find a place that still had a fireplace at all, much less one on the second floor. Most of them get ripped out when the places are converted into apartments.”

“This was an apartment?”

“Originally it was a pair of two-story dwellings, semidetached. Then the top floors of both sides of the building were converted, making four apartments. I was able to buy one side of the building first, and a few years later, the second. I only added a door between the two on the ground floor, but I took out the walls between the apartments up here and revamped the interior.”

“Amazing. You’ve done a fantastic job.” But he hadn’t intended to get into an architectural discussion.

He took a breath. Aside from some pleasant reminiscing, he’d had a lot of time to think.

“Can I ask you a couple of questions?”

Rick’s sleepy smile fell away as he straightened. Already, Ian mourned the loss of his warm armful.

“Yes, darling, I suppose you can.”

Ian gritted his teeth. He was starting to hate those endearments, because he was coming to learn they were a protection mechanism Rick wore like a shield. Each time Rick trotted them out with him, he knew he needed to tread carefully. Not that he blamed Rick for being reticent. He threaded his fingers through Rick’s.

“What happened after you left home? I mean, I know you’ve built up a great career for yourself. You’ve got a great place here. How did you do it? Don’t get me wrong, I’m amazed, impressed, and completely in awe. I’m just curious.”

Rick turned his head away. For a moment, he expected Rick to pull completely away from him, but instead Rick gripped his hand tighter.

“It wasn’t as sordid as you’re probably imagining. I got government loans to help with university and I supported myself by bartending at a strip club.”

Ian blinked for a moment. He had a visceral tug at the pit of his stomach, imagining Rick up on stage, a cowboy hat on his head, ripping off a pair of tear-away chaps.

“Uh.”

“Honestly. The owner tried to get me to strip a few times, but it wasn’t something I was interested in. And I made enough money bartending.”

“No, it wasn’t that, I was just kinda… imagining you stripping.”

Rick cut a glance at him and must have seen some of Ian’s thoughts on his face. “Oh. I certainly learned a lot by observation. And I helped Jon out with a few of his routines.”

“Jon?”

“Oh, yeah. That’s how I met him, actually. He was stripping at the same club I got hired at as a bartender.”

Ian nodded. He could see it. Jon was an attractive guy, although not as attractive as Rick.

“Have you got a cowboy hat, by any chance?”

“Mmm. You’re a little perv, aren’t you? I might be able to scare one up. If you’re good.” Rick’s wicked smile stirred up his dick even more.

“Seriously, though.” He tilted Rick’s head toward him so he could look deeply in his eyes. “You know I wouldn’t care if you’d been stripping, right? I’m so impressed with what you’ve accomplished.”

“I don’t like to talk about it, though. It’s not exactly something that would do wonders for my career, you know. Even when it was just bartending. Just about everything from my younger days would cause complications for my career.”

“They aren’t complications for me.”

Rick’s wicked smile returned, along with suspiciously shiny eyes. Ian chose not to comment, mostly because Rick pounced and kissed him and Ian had better things to do than talk.

Chapter 7

I
AN
toweled off, wrapped the towel around his waist. Arms slid around him from behind, lips pressing against his spine.

He turned and kissed Rick. This was exactly what he’d been dreaming of as soon as he considered that he might be able to come out of the closet. He hadn’t expected Rick to consent to a second night in a row, especially since he had to break the little bubble they were in to go home and grab a work suit. But the moment Rick had agreed, he’d taken off before Rick could change his mind, and returned in record time.

Then they’d spent another athletic night in bed and Ian had never been happier. It was too soon to think about moving in together, but this little taste of living together was enough—Ian was going to love it. It made a huge difference, having to maneuver around someone else to get ready in the morning, a little dance of companionship Ian enjoyed far more than the emptiness of getting ready alone.

Ian rubbed a finger over his chin. He could get away without shaving this morning. Good thing, too, because although the alarm had gone off plenty early enough for him to get ready for work, they’d, uh, lingered in bed for almost another hour.

“C’mon. I’ve got to get ready or I’m going to be late.” He couldn’t resist giving Rick another quick kiss.

“I know. Me too. I’ve got an early client showing up today.”

Side by side, they pulled on their professional clothes.

Like a disguise, his super sexy club boy Rick became Richard Haviland, Toronto’s soft-core porn version of Clark Kent. Über professional and sedate. Knowing what hid beneath that boring white golf shirt and beige chinos, knowing the sounds Rick made when he licked his ass, made the boring outfit unexpectedly appealing. A secret he shared with Rick, a secret that most of the rest of the world didn’t know.

“Hey there, Richard Haviland. My sexy speech-language pathologist.” Ian moved to push Rick up against the wall to see if he could muss him up a little, but Rick held out a hand.

“Oh my God, Ian. Is that what you wear to work?”

Ian peered down at the dark-green suit with black shirt and tie. He didn’t see anything wrong with it—no stains, no wrinkles, and everything matched. “Sometimes, yeah, why?”