Second Chances (20 page)

I was running my hand up and over the beam that had small speakers imbedded in it when I heard him coming out of the bedroom. “These are terrific,” I told him and turned around. And had to do one motherfucker of a double take and kind of hope he didn’t notice my jaw was hanging open.

He’d traded in his loose 3XL shirts, baggy jeans, and Doc Martens for a pair of cream-colored slacks that hugged his ass and a pale green dress shirt that strained across his chest. And dress shoes. He looked fucking amazing. “Thanks,” he said and grinned. Fuck, I must’ve said that out loud.

He looked me up and down and gave a wolf whistle. “Like that T-shirt, man, looks great with your eyes,” he said and walked a circle around me. I felt a little hot and wondered if he’d cut the air conditioning back. “You about ready to go, baby?” he asked and patted my arm.

I followed him out to that big-ass truck and buckled in. We made small talk all the way over to the steakhouse, and it was nice. When we got there, we parked in the back corner of the lot so nobody could ding his baby. It was already dark, but this was a pretty good area of town so I wasn’t worried.

The hostess had our reservation, and we were guided quickly to a very nice table. One of the servers came by and explained the whole concept of the place, and I liked that we could choose from all those meats, because Southern guys can eat some cow.

“What made you want to come here?” I asked. Not that I minded.

“It’s your birthday,” he explained, “and I wanted this evening to be something special.” He reached over and squeezed my hand and then opened his napkin. I looked around and saw the place was very nicely decorated, dark wood beams and private tables scattered around the huge space. I noticed lots of couples, and we weren’t the only two men together either.

Now, you don’t get to be the chief financial officer and manage a five million dollar budget without having a minimum of two brain cells that fire off together. The pieces started to fall together, and I could feel my heart beat faster and my head spin.

Jason was staying with his mom even though it was Antonio’s night to have him. Told me to dress pretty. Wore an outfit I would swear on a stack of Bibles wasn’t in his closet last week. Brought me to a romantic restaurant.

“Antonio,” I said and waited ’til he looked me in the eyes. “What’s going on?” He looked at me and just smiled. “Are we on a…
date
?” His slow smile and the heat in his eyes were almost answer enough. I sat back in the chair to give myself a second to regroup and decide how to proceed. I finally got it—this was a game. Antonio was just fucking with me and trying to make me laugh. I just shrugged and deadpanned, “Okay. But I’m not putting out. Not for a steak dinner.”

That lightened things up, and we both went to the buffet area and checked out the offerings. God, a man could die happy in a place like this. And damn if Antonio wasn’t all up in my personal space. Reached up to say something low in my ear. Bumped shoulders.

I played the game right back. I turned back and put my mouth right against the shell of his ear and breathed an answer back. Once we were back at the table, I moved around behind him and guided him to his seat with my hand on the small of his back. Then let it slide down and cup his ass. I really enjoyed the shiver I saw and felt.

HetBoy might make the ladies quiver, but I was used to taking charge and being with a man. He wanted to see what a date with a guy felt like, bring it on.

I played it up. Moaned at how good the steaks were, although I really didn’t have to pretend there. They were fucking amazing. Ordered wine and licked the rim. Sat back and ran my hand across my chest and down to my stomach and groaned about how full I was. And watched him notice the way the shirt hugged my chest when I pulled the fabric tight.

I thought he’d back off and realize he was playing a dangerous game. But every move I made ratcheted up the heat in his eyes. Even the blush I put on his face didn’t stop him from looking. What I saw in those looks made me feel a little funny myself. My body was responding to the game. I could feel my nipples pebbling against the roughness of the shirt. My cock was starting to wake up from deep freeze.

“Would you gentlemen care for any dessert this evening?” the cute little Argentinean gaucho asked. He looked back and forth between us, and I caught his eyes on both of our crotches.

“No, babe, I think I’ll take my dessert home now and eat it at my leisure,” I drawled and hid a wince. God, I was cheesy but it got the reaction I wanted. Envy and wistfulness from the hot boy checking out my guy, and something like a choked growl from Antonio.

Don’t fuck with the bear
, I thought. You risk getting mauled. I never once thought Antonio was going to cash any of the checks his ass was writing. He would come to his senses and remember he liked women, then we’d go back to being best buddies.

That worked until we got to the truck, where I found myself shoved against the door and I was the one that got mauled. He held me there while his mouth attacked mine, and there wasn’t a bit of gentleness in the kiss. It was rough and raw and tasted like hunger and lust and steak. It brought all my bottled-up need to take control out. Before he knew what happened, I slammed his ass around, turning the tables on him and taking control of the kiss. Reaching behind him, I grabbed him by the neck to hold his mouth on mine and put my other hand on his dick.

I could feel his groan when I squeezed. I swallowed it and gave his cock a few rough strokes and felt him tense up. His hands grabbed air, and I vaguely registered he didn’t know what to do with them, if it was okay to touch me. He choked out a long, sexy moan, and I felt the warm stickiness through his pants. He sagged against me, panting. I held him up until he shook it off and got himself back under control.

When he pulled me into a hug, I heard what sounded like, “I love you,” breathed into my neck.

“Are you okay now?” I asked while rubbing circles on his back and holding him.

He nodded and raised his head. “Are you?”

I laughed a little and smacked his ass. “Peachy. I haven’t done that since, ummm, Tommy Weatherly in high school.” I thought,
what the hell
, then reached over, took his keys out of his front pocket, and hit the lock release.

“Get your ass in and let’s get back to your place. I think you need a shower and some sweats.” I chuckled. He opened the door and climbed in the passenger seat without an argument.

Oddly, the quiet drive back home was comfortable and relaxed. I kept waiting for him to freak out and start the whole
I’m not gay
thing. Waited for his anger, accusations, a fight. Something. Not this… familiarity.

We got there and went in, and he headed to the bedroom to take a shower. “Come in and keep me company,” he said and stripped off his sticky pants.
Why not
, I thought, and went in and sat on the bed. He started the shower and climbed in. “Get comfortable,” he stuck his head out and said. I kicked off my shoes and socks and flopped down on the bed and started to wonder what we were doing and yelled out to him, “What are we doing?”

“Mark, don’t fucking get in your head about this. It’s your birthday, we had a good time. A nice date. ’Cause yeah, that’s what it was. And you’re gonna spend the night and get some sleep and we can talk about it tomorrow. Okay?”

Actually that sounded pretty fucking good. So I stripped down to my boxer briefs and slid under the covers. The sound of the water was soothing, and before I knew it I was asleep.

I
WOKE
up sometime later during the night and was on my side, pressed into Antonio’s back. The debate over whether to get up, get dressed, and go home versus staying in bed and not moving took all of about ten seconds. The next time I opened my eyes, I was alone in the bed and the sun was up. I stretched and scratched. The need to piss was greater than the temptation to just lie there.

When I was finished, I decided to brush my teeth and shower. He kept the bathroom stocked with extra toiletries. I grabbed a pair of his sweats and went into the kitchen and called his name. “In here,” he yelled from the den, “grab you some coffee and come on in.”

He was doing something with the computer parts strewed across the table. I grabbed my cup of coffee and pulled a chair over so I could see what he was up to. “Making any progress?” I tried, since I couldn’t tell what the hell he was doing.

“Yeah, I’m taking everything apart and putting all the pieces back together in a new way and hoping I didn’t fuck anything up.” He cut his eyes toward me.

Guess that was my cue. “Nothing’s broken,” I said and reached over to touch his back. “But I think we need to talk, don’t you?” He nodded and I motioned with my head for him to join me over on the couch. He grabbed his mug and we sat down, not right against each other but not on opposite sides either.

“So, last night,” I prompted to get the conversation started. He started this dance, and I needed him to explain the steps. He shrugged the tiniest bit and started talking, staring into his mug.

“It was your birthday and I wanted it to be special. I wanted it to be with
me
.” He looked up at me. “Don’t know what the fuck I’m doing here, but a date’s a good place to start.” The smile in his eyes matched the one on his face.

“But,” and I kind of stalled out there. I thought he was playing, making the date a game, entertainment. “But, fucking help me out here. Start
what
, exactly? I don’t understand,” I admitted.
What
was he looking for?
I wondered. I was afraid he didn’t know either.

His next words confirmed it. “Man, I don’t
know
! I want to be with you, be
with
you. I’ve never done this before, Mark. Not with my ex-wife even.” And I knew it was true. He’d told me how he only had married her because she was pregnant with Jason. He never was in love with her. Never really
wanted
to be with her. “I’ve never been in love before, not with her, with any woman, and sure as hell not with a man.”

“Are you saying—” He jerked his gaze to me and nodded, looking fucking miserable.

“I don’t know what to do here, man. Look, can I tell you something and you promise me you won’t fucking get pissed or leave or some shit?” he asked. I thought about it. How bad it could be? But I slowly nodded.

He took a deep breath and plunged in. “I love you and I’m pretty sure I’m
in
love with you and have been for a while. For years. I know I’m not the kind of guy for a man like you. I’m not successful and I can barely keep all my bills paid, and you, man, you are so together and can have any guy you want. You deserve a guy who can be all that back for you, and here I am not knowing what the hell I’m doing. It scares the fuck out of me because of Jason and what if his mom finds out and tries to keep him away from me. I—” He looked away from me.

I took over and filled the rest of it in for him. “You aren’t gay. And you don’t want to be.”

Still with his head down, he reached over to grab my arm, and I guess he was afraid I’d leave after that was out in the open. I thought about it. I had too much self-respect and too many years of being out to hide in the closet for anybody. If I were to look closely inside, I wasn’t sure what it was I felt for Antonio. Love, yes. Respect and gratitude. And yes, I was attracted physically. Fuck, who wouldn’t be?

It was only fair that I was honest with him. “I don’t know if I’m ready to be
anything
with you, Antonio. I like you a lot, and yeah, I love you. But I won’t be your dirty little secret either. Maybe you should take some time and think about it all.” I moved to get up but he pulled me back down right next to him.

He grabbed me and kissed me again, a little desperately. “All I’ve done is think about this. About you. Since before Brian died.”

I tensed up.

“I’d have never done anything then. Fuck, I can barely believe I’m saying it now.” He kissed me again. I still couldn’t say anything, but I kissed him back. “Please, Mark, baby, please,” he crooned in between kisses, “please give me a chance. Tell me what to do.” And I’m not sure whether it was the
please
or the taste of his submission, but I was rock-hard.

I took control then, of the situation, the kiss, Antonio. I looked him in the eye and asked, “Do you trust me?” He nodded and leaned back in for another kiss. I gave it to him, then pushed him a little away, so I could move, raised my hips and shed the sweats. My hard cock bounced up, and he looked at it, then into my eyes. I reached out and brought his hand to it, wrapping it around my shaft then closed my hand over his.

I asked again, “Do you trust me?” He nodded again, and I pulled his head in for another kiss, then pushed it toward my cock. He looked up questioningly, and I said, “Suck me.”

I needed to know. Know if he could do this with me. It’s one thing for a straight guy to get head or fuck another man. That doesn’t make him gay. But to be the passive partner, to suck, get fucked, that would tell me what I needed to know.

He looked for just a minute, then opened his mouth and closed it on the head. I guided his hand to keep stroking and held his face between my hands. Then I slowly pumped into his mouth. I didn’t want his first time to make him gag and ruin it for him.

He started to moan and that made my hips buck. When he didn’t gag, I thrust a little deeper. His other hand was in his own sweats, jacking hard and fast. The tingle and slow burn of orgasm started in my balls. His grunts and moans made my dick twitch, and I knew it would be a matter of seconds. I started to pull away, but he sucked harder, refusing to let go, so I went with it. When I started to shoot, he swallowed, and I felt him start to jerk when he came hard.

I yanked him up into a kiss, and tasted myself in his mouth. He looked dazed but satisfied. I pulled him beside me, into my arms and cradled him as I laid us both down on the couch. “We can try this. I won’t put any pressure on you, but make me a promise,” I whispered to him.