Love Starved (16 page)

Daphne was staring at Micah as if he’d grown a second head. For a moment she seemed speechless, which betrayed the intensity of her shock. And then words tumbled out of her.

“Okay, first: What were you thinking? And second: Wow, that was some expensive lie. But mostly, what were you thinking, Micah? You don’t hire men like him as boyfriends. You take what they can offer, enjoy it and go on with your life. I mean, he’s a fantastic lover, but getting attached to him? That will only get you hurt, baby. And seeing you hurt again is the last thing I want.”

“Daph—”

“No, you don’t understand.” She was on a roll. “Sex is just sex. It’s awesome and important and can be pretty memorable, but essentially, it’s a bodily function. What you’re playing with is feelings. Your feelings, specifically, because I’m sure he knows how to deal with a client’s feelings for him. And I’m not saying he’d lead you on, or consciously hurt you, but I know you. I know how fast you fall for boys, and how hard, even when they don’t deserve it. Getting attached to a prostitute is probably a worse idea than getting together with Brian, and that’s saying something, coming from me.”

“He’s not—” Micah started, defensive, but she cut him short.

“Yes he is! That’s what he is, Micah, a prostitute—a stunning, skilled, classy prostitute who can sell you happiness for a moment, but won’t give it to you for free, and not in the long run. I can’t believe you’re so blinded already.” She was sitting up now, knees hugged to her chest, her cheeks pink with emotion and her hair a wild blonde mess of curls. She was winding herself up further, and Micah knew what would come next—she would start coming up with solutions and trying to fix his life that didn’t need fixing at all, at least not in a way she seemed to think.

“Okay, Daph, be quiet.” He raised his voice when she tried to talk over him. “I was saying that Angel isn’t Brian, and I’m not falling for him. We’re friends.”

“You’re delusional.”

“Would you at least let me talk?” he asked, impatient. “Where’s my famously non-judgmental best friend when I need her?”

She deflated a bit. “Okay. Talk.”

So Micah talked. He told her about that first date and the following agreements. Words flowing out of him at a torrid speed, he spoke of the Grand Marais weekend, the kissing under the stars, the blowjob and the hiking. He described that terrible, blood-red evening weeks later, voice sticking in his throat, and tracked their slow, new path towards friendship, all that without revealing Angel’s real name or any details that would speak of the person behind the character. The dryer beeped at some point, but they ignored it. Daphne listened in silence, proof that she wanted to understand.

“Okay,” she said when Micah had finished the lengthy story. “So he still owes you that last date night?”

Micah shifted and stretched to relieve the aching wrist he’d been leaning on. “He does.”

“And you think he’s still going to want to be your friend afterward?”

Micah narrowed his eyes. “Are you suggesting I’m so bad in bed he’s gonna run away screaming?”

“Not at all. I’m just… wondering if this isn’t Angel’s way of ensuring that you wait patiently and don’t make a fuss over the delay.”

“No,” Micah said firmly.

“But you don’t know that.”

“I know him enough.”

But did he really? Already doubts were worming their way through his thoughts. Frustrated, Micah flopped onto his back, folding his arms under his head and staring at the ceiling as if looking for answers there.

“Daph, why are you doing this? I hoped for your support, not you undermining my reasons to be happy with this.”

She reached to squeeze his hand. “Oh, I support you, buddy. I’ll support anything that adds to your happiness, and if Angel proves to be one of those things, I’ll be nothing but supportive. But if he hurts you—” She paused menacingly. “He can be as pretty and sexy as he wants. He won’t escape my wrath if he’s just playing with you.”

That was strangely comforting. Micah held onto her hand for a moment, grateful for the closeness and for the fact that he wasn’t home alone, left to his own devices to analyze everything he saw Aiden do tonight.

“Thank you, Daph. You’re the best.”

She gave him a half-smile and a one-shouldered shrug. “That’s what I’m here for. And you know, I think you’re underestimating your parents’ understanding.”

“What do you mean?”

“Lying? Never a good solution. You might want to talk to them. They are more open-minded than you’d expect.”

Micah just let it go. She might have talked to his parents a couple of times, but that didn’t mean she had all the answers.

The silence stretched, and Micah found himself relaxing into the soft bedding, sleep slowly claiming him. When Daphne murmured something and tugged the covers out from under them, he just slid underneath and closed his eyes. Thinking could wait.

“Have you drowned in work
again?” Aiden asked as soon as Micah answered his phone on Tuesday afternoon. “Or are you tired of me already?”

Micah dropped the stress ball he was playing with and tried to catch it, nearly knocking over his coffee cup in the process. “What? No, why would I be tired of you?”

“Not a single sign of life since Friday night? That’s unlike you.”

“Oh.” Micah dived under his desk to get the ball and started squeezing it frantically again. “Right. Sorry, I’ve been a little busy. How are you?”

“I’m good, just started classes today. How are
you
? I’ve seen your book in a bookstore this morning—why didn’t you tell me it’s already a bestseller? Congratulations! I was going to suggest a celebration, but if you’re busy…”

“No, no I’d love to go out and celebrate,” Micah said with genuine enthusiasm. Daphne’s words had been constantly at the back of his mind, giving him pause every time he’d wanted to text or call Aiden, but now that he heard his voice, he realized how much he’d missed his new friend. Distancing himself to avoid potential hurt suddenly seemed like a stupid idea. “I have a few things to finish today, but how about tomorrow night? You still can’t drink, right? So champagne is off the table, but we can think of something else.”

“Sundaes,” Aiden said immediately.

“What?”

“I know this place with amazing sundaes. We could go there. The weather won’t stay sundae-friendly forever.”

Micah laughed fondly. “Okay, Mr. Sweet Tooth, we can do sundaes. I have a business dinner at six tomorrow; I should be done by eight, but I’ll have to go home and change. Can you come pick me up?”

“Sure. Half past eight?”

“Perfect.”

He expected the conversation to end there, but Aiden lingered. “How was your weekend?”

“Fun, actually,” Micah leaned back in his chair and reached for his coffee cup. “I spent some quality time with Daphne. We went dancing and then had a sleepover. It felt like good old college days again.” He paused, unsure if he should ask, but then shrugged it off. “How was yours?”

He half-expected Aiden to lie, or at least omit the club and the girl, but he surprised him again.

“Busy, but good. I decided to take up one job, and it turned out to be a lot of fun.”

Micah froze with the cup in his hand. A
job
? “I thought you wanted to delay your return to work until next week?”

“I did. But it was supposed to be a birthday gift for her, so it was rather time-sensitive, and I was hired to be a rock star for a day. How fun is that? I got to sing a little, wear leather, play a bit of a bad boy.” Aiden chuckled.

“It fits you,” Micah blurted out.

“I fear the image in your head might be slightly overestimated.”

“Oh believe me, it isn’t. And when you said you used to sing, I never expected you to be that good.”

When Aiden spoke again, it was in a quiet, measured tone. “You saw me.”

“I was at the club.”

More silence, then, “And what did you think?”

“I wasn’t sure what to think,” Micah admitted, and heard a careful intake of breath in the receiver. “Because you looked too hot not to watch, but it felt like I shouldn’t because you didn’t want me to know about it, you know? But what little I saw of your performance was fantastic. You made a fabulous rock star, and I kind of envied the lady you left with.”

“Oh.” It was quiet and surprised, but soon Aiden gathered his bearings and said in a more casual tone, “Actually, I wanted to tell you that I’m all good for work now, so you can have your night whenever you want. Even tomorrow.”

Now it was Micah’s turn to say “Oh,” and stumble over an awkward silence. “Already?”

“If you want to. I’d say it’s long overdue.”

“I… actually don’t know,” Micah stuttered. “I mean, it’s the middle of the week, and a busy one, so—”

“Of course. It doesn’t have to be this week,” Aiden assured him, and Micah felt bad for lying, even indirectly.

It wasn’t the potential lack of sleep that was giving him pause—he pulled all-nighters whenever he had a busy period, and had long learned to function on next to zero sleep for a day or two. Being exhausted after a night of good sex was not something he feared.

He just hadn’t thought about their delayed sex-date much since their last attempt. He still wanted it. He thought so, at least. But it was different now that he actually knew Aiden. Not bad different, though. Actually, excitement was already buzzing through him. He just needed a little time to process.

“Can I let you know tomorrow?”

“Sure. I’ll let you work then. Have a good afternoon.”

“Thanks. You too.”

Just an hour later Micah sent a text:
Tomorrow is a go.

The business dinner ran a
little late, so Micah was still wrapped in a towel, his hair dripping water when he opened the door to let Aiden in. He grinned at the way Aiden’s eyes widened, running up and down his body quickly before resting on his face.

“So are we starting already?” Aiden asked, setting his bag—the bag whose contents Micah could guess with too much certainty—on the floor by the hall table. “Because I’d be fine with that.”

“No, we’re going for the sundaes first. I’ll be ready in five minutes. Wait wherever you want.”

Before he closed the bathroom door again, he saw Aiden pick up his bag and step into the bedroom, and what he could be setting out there in preparation for later was a thought that Micah had to quickly banish if he wanted to fit comfortably into these particular pants. And he did. He was definitely dressing for effect tonight, and these pants hugged his legs and ass in all the right ways.

He’d already taken care of the proper grooming in the shower, so now he just put in a fresh pair of contacts, ran a little product through the thick mess of his hair to style it up and swiped a bit of vanilla lip balm over his lips. A quick inspection of his fingernails, a bit of cologne and he was ready to get dressed.

When he left the bathroom, he found Aiden perched on a kitchen stool.

“Wow, you look amazing.” He flashed Micah an easy smile and then grew more serious. “Okay, celebration first, but when we come back here, I’m Angel again, okay?”

He sought Micah’s face to see if he understood, and Micah nodded. It made sense—doing this as them, as friends, was bound to be awkward. This night was all business, the way it was supposed to be before it all changed. All sex, no emotions.

But first, he would enjoy sundaes with his friend.

An hour later, Micah squirmed
in his seat, only occasionally remembering to dip the spoon into his dessert. Not because he didn’t like it—not at all. It was delicious: the mint, cream and dark chocolate notes in his sundae played off one another perfectly. He loved it. But what he loved more was the picture of Aiden enjoying his portion.

Eating dessert shouldn’t be this sexy. Micah had been aroused all day thinking about tonight, and barely managed the patience to sit through dinner with a new important client. And now, watching Aiden lick every bit of ice cream off his spoon with slow deliberation was torture. Aiden’s eyes closed in bliss; he had a dab of raspberry sauce in the corner of his lower lip that Micah wanted to lick off; and he made quiet sounds that belonged more to the bedroom than over food, no matter how delectable. Micah was dearly regretting his choice of pants. No matter how fabulous, they were distinctly uncomfortable now.

Aiden caught him staring and grinned over another spoonful of his chocolate cheesecake ice cream.

“You have no idea how great it is to be able to eat normally again. At my doctor’s insistence, I’m even trying to get used to eating breakfast. At this rate, I’ll have to start watching my weight soon, but it’s such a pleasure after months when food was just a painful necessity.”

This got Micah’s mind out of the gutter, if only for a while. But the enthusiasm with which Aiden fellated his spoon only seemed to grow, and it was hard to believe he wasn’t doing it on purpose. Especially when his hand grazed Micah’s thigh exactly four times during their ride home, for no reason whatsoever.

By the time they got out of the elevator, Micah was thrumming with desire. Every last bit of hesitation had been forgotten now, in yearning for what he’d had a taste of that night at the cabin. He was still wondering what the proper, polite way was to tell Aiden—pardon,
Angel
now—that he wanted him in his bedroom, and wanted him there
now
, when Angel closed the door behind them and immediately pulled him in for a kiss.

Deep and dirty from the start, this kiss was exactly what Micah needed. His body responded with a dizzying intensity. He moaned against Angel’s mouth, and then he was being pinned to the door. A strong body pressed hard against his, and hot lips kissed down his neck, sucking and grazing lightly. Micah’s hips jerked forward.

“Mm, yes,” Angel purred into his ear, low and dangerous. “Show me what you want. I’ve seen the way you look at me. I’ve noticed how hard you are already.”

Angel’s thigh pressed against the bulge in his pants and Micah whimpered, high and breathless. Angel growled, his hand drawing a quick, firm path down until he was palming Micah’s hard cock through the fabric, making him gasp and moan and press closer despite the growing discomfort of confinement. Micah’s head was spinning, and he didn’t care if his neighbors could hear him through the door. His body suddenly remembered that its needs had been ignored for the last five years and was demanding he make up for it immediately.

Soon, Micah’s shirt was pushed up, his pants were open and Angel’s fingers were wrapped around the shaft of his leaking cock, working him slowly. Micah was already a sweaty, shuddering mess, rapidly losing any remnants of control over his reactions. Another skillful stroke, faster now, and his head thudded against the door.

“You’re gonna make me come,” he panted.

There was a smirk in Angel’s voice. “That’s the plan. Unless you raise any objections?”

“No, no objections, oh
fuck
.”

Angel picked up the pace; long, firm strokes twisted perfectly under the head, and in embarrassingly little time Micah was crying out and spilling all over Angel’s hand and his own stomach.

His knees felt weak in the aftermath and his body felt like rubber, but there was no bed to fall onto and he wasn’t yet ready to take that half a dozen steps to the bedroom. He leaned against Angel, his head falling to his shoulder as he breathed through the aftershocks.

The absurdity of the situation fully registered at last, and Micah chuckled into the fabric of Angel’s shirt.

“What is it?” Angel asked, amused, and Micah raised his head to look at him with a grin.

“You made me come in my pants.”

Angel stepped back to inspect the damage. “Not really. Mostly it’s on your stomach.”

“I’ve never done this before,” Micah revealed and fell into giggles. For some reason, it seemed hilarious. Angel frowned.

“What, come from a handjob against the door?”

“Come without getting naked first. We didn’t even get to the bedroom.”

Angel grinned. “Hey, we have all night.”

Micah was still mostly hard, tucked back in his underwear, when they finally reached the bedroom. He was also sticky; the mess on his stomach was half-dried and itching, but Angel just kissed him when he suggested a shower.

“Mm, no, I like you like this, sweaty and smelling like sex,” he whispered in Micah’s ear. “Such a naughty boy tonight. I wonder just how naughty you get when properly provoked.”

Micah gasped and pulled him onto the bed, and for a while there was only kissing and growing urgency. Angel’s hands were warm under his shirt and his weight on top of Micah simultaneously anchored him and made him feel as if he was soaring. Micah’s lips tingled and he really wanted to get his hands on Angel at last, but he also didn’t want to stop what they were doing now. Never before had he been allowed such a slow pace in foreplay—well, in a way it was also afterplay, but no matter—and he loved every minute of it.

But then somehow he was shirtless, and in the next instant Angel was kneeling on the bed and tugging at the waistband of Micah’s pants, and suddenly Micah didn’t feel naughty at all. He felt shy and awkward and more self-conscious than he remembered being since he’d started to work out in his senior year of high school.

It had been five years since anyone had seen him naked—the night at the lake house didn’t count; it was dark, and he was under the covers. Now, the little lamp on the bedside table was on, its warm light bright enough to show all the damage that his desk job and lack of regular exercise had inflicted over the years. His body had never been overly sculpted, but it used to have nice definition back in college, when he’d worked out religiously. He felt pallid and unappealing—like a typical nerd who hadn’t seen the sun all summer. Surely none of that would escape Angel’s singular focus, and it was terrifying. Micah wondered if his self-consciousness was enough of a reason to call this off.

But to give up on hours of his body singing with pleasure under Angel’s masterful touch, on perhaps the only chance he would ever get to explore to his heart’s content? No way.

And so Micah took a deep breath and raised his hips to help with the pants, and then stretched out on the bed under Angel’s gaze. He didn’t try to cover himself, even though he couldn’t stop his cheeks from glowing. Angel’s eyes took him in slowly, deliberately, and there was a hungry expression on his face when he looked up again.

“Fuck, you’re so hot.”

“I bet you tell that to all of your clients,” Micah quipped.

Angel froze for a second and Micah cursed himself silently. It was just the two of them here tonight. No need to remember anyone else. He was about to apologize, but Angel’s face relaxed, his smile returning. “No. Only the hot ones,” he said, and moved to kiss him again.

Micah stopped him. “Wait. Can you be naked, too?”

Angel nodded and got off the bed. His fingers were slow and sensual as he undid the buttons of his shirt one by one, revealing tanned skin with a light dusting of hair. The fabric slid off his shoulders with a whisper, and Micah found himself kneeling on the bed in front of him, sliding his palms up Angel’s warm, smooth belly, over his chest, skimming his thumbs over nipples that reacted instantly, tightening into hard little buds. Giving in to an impulse, Micah brushed his dry lips over one before circling it with the tip of his tongue. Angel’s breath quickened. With a single soft kiss, Micah drew back to run his fingers up to Angel’s broad shoulders, and then down his arms, unhurriedly tracing the strong, beautiful lines of his body. He took Angel’s hand and brought it to his lips, to press a kiss to the center of his palm, and sighed happily when Angel cupped his cheek and knelt on the edge of the bed, pulling him in until their lips collided and their bare chests pressed together.