Too Soon For Love (26 page)

The room spun and he swayed.

“Easy there.” Robby caught his arm. “C’mon, just hang on to me.”

Michael took hold of Robby’s arm and staggered after him through the crowded restaurant and out into the cool night air.

The damp wind had an edge and he shivered. The cold made him feel marginally less drunk, but only marginally.

“It’s been years since I was this drunk,” Michael said as they made their way across the parking lot.

“How many drinks did you have?” Robby chirped the locks open on the jeep and opened the door for him.

“Four? Or five?” Michael spilled into the passenger seat, leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He felt the seatbelt being tugged across him and fastened then the door closed.

God, he was so drunk. Everything was spinning even now.

Robby got in behind the wheel.

Michael roused himself enough to ask, “How drunk are you?

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Should we get a cab?”

“Not very. I only had three beers.”

“So how come you let me get so drunk?”

“Maybe I want to take advantage of you.”

And they both laughed.

“Michael, c’mon. We’re home.”

A hand shook Michael’s shoulder, the words seeming to come from far away.

Michael roused himself, struggled to sit up straighter and couldn’t.

“Hang on. Let me unhook your seatbelt.”

“Seatbelt?” Michael blinked.

And remembered. He was in the car, Robby’s car. He was drunk. He did a quick inventory of his senses. Yep, still in the car, and still drunk.

“Can you make it into the house? Want me to carry you?”

“I can make it. You’re not carrying me like some fucking damsel in distress. Next thing I know, you’ll be wanting a kiss for your efforts.”

Why had he said that? God, he was wasted.

Michael swung his feet out of the jeep, but when he tried to stand he found that someone had stolen his knees. It was like trying to stand on water and he would have ended up in a boneless heap on the driveway if a pair of strong arms, swimmer’s arms, hadn’t caught and held him.

“Easy, baby. Take your time. Find your feet.”

“Are you sure they’re still there?”

Michael tried, but his knees wobbled like they had hinges that could swing in two different directions. He knew he had to try harder to stand because Robby was taking his entire weight, and he was close to one-seventy these days. That couldn’t be easy, even for a strong, young guy like him.

“Put your arms around me,” Robby ordered.

Michael did. The man had incredible shoulders, broad, strong
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shoulders.

Robby supported him with his body and somehow Michael got his feet under him and managed to stand, if a bit shakily.

“Okay, I’m okay.” He wasn’t sure if he was saying it to reassure Robby or himself, but gradually it became true. Before long Michael was actually standing, with help it was true, but not being propped up was definitely progress.

“Want to try the steps now?” Robby asked.

By the time he got inside, Michael felt steadier and could actually stand on his own. Going straight into the living room, he flopped on the couch, lay back with his head propped on the arm and shut his eyes.

“You need anything? Water? Or maybe aspirin?” Robby hovered like a mama duck with a sickly duckling.

The simile made Michael grin.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.” Michael swallowed a chuckle. “I was just thinking that you were hovering like a mama duck and I was your duckling.”

“I’m just trying to make sure you don’t fall on your ass or blow chunks all over the living room. I should have left you in the car. I’ll get lost now, if you want.”

“Hey, don’t get your nuts in a knot. I was just kidding.”

Michael held out a hand. “I had a good time tonight. Did you?”

“Yeah, I guess. Sure.” Robby returned to the couch. He sank down on the floor and leaned back with his head propped against Michael’s hip. It was a very intimate pose.

Michael let his hand rest on one of those amazing shoulders, the ends of Robby’s hair just brushing the backs of his fingers.

He could feel the heat of the other man’s skin through the fabric of his shirt. He trailed his fingertips along Robby’s shoulder until he reached the soft, warm skin just above his collar.

“Which ear is your earring in?”

“That one.”

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Michael touched Robby’s ear, traced the shell with a fingertip until he reached the lobe and the stud that pierced it.

“Is it a diamond?”

“No. It’s an aquamarine. That’s my birthstone. The guy who gave it to me said diamonds were too predictable. He said the aquamarine suited me better.” Robby’s voice sounded strange, a little hoarse, a little tense. “Michael.”

“Hmm?” Michael’s finger continued tracing Robby’s ear.

“I don’t know if I should say it … It’s sort of, I don’t know.”

“Say what?”

“You touching me like that … It’s making me hard.”

“Is it?” Inside his chinos, Michael’s own dick twitched and began to fill. All night he’d been feeling it, the pleasure of being out with a man again. Even though it wasn’t technically a date, something about it felt like more than just a casual evening out with a friend.

“Yeah, it is.” Robby turned his head and rubbed his cheek against Michael’s hand. His beard stubble was scratchy, but the lips that pressed to the back of Michael’s wrist were soft, the tongue that licked him was warm and wet.

Oh. Shit.

Michael squirmed. He was too drunk to play with Robby like this, too edgy, too lonely. He should stop it right now before it got out of hand.

On the floor, Robby turned. He trailed open-mouthed kisses over Michael’s hand, up to his wrist, and back down before he drew Michael’s pinky finger into that warm wet cavern and sucked.

“Oh, fuck.” Michael groaned. His dick, now fully hard, throbbed, two hard pulses like his heart was centered there, right there behind his zipper.

“Mmm.” Robby hummed around Michael’s finger and began to move his head, up and down, up and down, his lips sucking, his
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tongue stroking. His hand settled on Michael’s thigh, slid higher and higher still. Then Robby was cupping his erection, tracing the shape of it with a fingertip, pressing lightly at the head, teasing and caressing right through Michael’s pants.

Michael’s balls ached as need fisted low in his belly and alcohol fogged his brain.

What would it hurt to be with Robby tonight, to take what he was so clearly offering? What harm would it do?

“Michael,” Robby breathed. Leaning over he rubbed his cheek against Michael’s cock, mouthed him through the material, his mouth hot even through double layers of cloth. Fingers caught Michael’s zipper pull and slowly began to lower it. “Want to suck you.”

And he wanted it too. God, he wanted it. Michael remembered the feel of Robby’s mouth, even two years later, the glorious suction, the mind-blowing skill of the younger man’s lips and tongue and hint of teeth.

He could have that again, feel that again, right here, right now.

All he had to do was say yes.

“Okay,” Michael whispered, unnecessarily it seemed since Robby’s fingers were already wrapping around Michael’s cock, drawing it out of his pants.

He had a nice grip, not too firm, but not wishy-washy.

Obviously, Robby knew what he was doing, how to touch him.

He stroked, caressed and teased. His thumb swiped over the head.

Michael gasped. His dick was so excruciatingly sensitive.

“Is that okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No. Feels good. God.” Michael covered Robby’s hand, stilled his teasing fingers. “Robby, I’m clean.”

“That’s good, because I want to taste you, want you to come in my mouth. You want to? You want to come in my mouth, daddy?”

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Daddy
.

Michael froze, the alcohol fog lifted, at least enough for him to push himself up to sit.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“What? Daddy? You don’t like it?”

“No. It weirds me out.”

“Okay. Sorry. I didn’t know. Some guys like it.”

“Not me.”

“Okay.” Robby was still on the floor even though Michael was now sitting up. He pushed Michael’s knees apart and knelt between them. “Hey, I said I was sorry. Don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad. Just … I don’t think I want to—”

“Oh, c’mon, please?” Robby leaned in and framed Michael’s face with his hands. His thumbs traced Michael’s cheekbones. “I want you so bad, Michael. Don’t push me away. I’ll be good, I promise. Do whatever you want.”

Robby kissed him, a wet, hot, open-mouthed kiss full of promise. Robby’s pants were open too, Michael realized, when the other man’s erection slid against his softening cock. The combination of that hard, hot flesh and that hot, hungry mouth should have gotten him hard again.

Michael waited. He kissed Robby back. But nothing happened.

His erection continued to fade until he was completely soft again.

He gripped the other man’s wrists and broke the kiss. “I can’t do this.”

“Why?” Robby whined. “Michael, I said I was sorry. C’mon, man. I’ll make you feel so good. I’ll suck you like you never had it before.” Another kiss, a nip of teeth on his lower lip. “Can I, Michael? Can I, please, suck your cock?”

“Robby, I’m not hard anymore.”

“I’ll fix that. I’ll get you hard again. You’ll see. Please,
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Michael?”

Michael shut his eyes, all desire gone. This was weird too, this begging and pleading. It also wasn’t helping his soft-on.

Robby nuzzled Michael’s cock, took the soft flesh into his mouth and sucked.

What the hell, Michael thought and tried to relax into the moment.

Robby was as good as his word, as good as Michael remembered, and it didn’t take long before he was hard again.

Michael slid his fingers into Robby’s hair, tangled them in the silky strands and, even though it was wrong to think of one guy when you had your dick in another guy’s mouth, he thought about Phillip, about the last time they had made love.

✧ ✦ ✧

Michael was deep in the zone, his fingers flying over the keyboard, the characters dancing in his head and the words flowing more easily than they had in a long time, when something broke his concentration. His fingers paused on the keys and he listened.

What was it?

Someone was in the house.

Hadn’t he locked the front door? He thought he had, after he got back from checking the mail. In fact, he specifically remembered having to put the mail on the table before he engaged the deadbolt.

Phillip was out of town at a conference and wouldn’t be back until Friday. So who was in the house? And how did they get in?

He was just beginning to review his options with regard to household items that could be used as weapons when his mysterious intruder called out his name.

“Michael? Where are you, babe?”

Phillip.

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Michael relaxed but only for a second. What was he doing home?

Once his lover’s unexpected appearance in the middle of the day would have brought with it a rush of pleasure and anticipation. But that was then. Now, Michael felt only a minor curiosity tinged with regret that the old anticipation seemed forever lost.

Sighing, he closed his laptop, putting it to sleep, and stretched his back. His spine cracked loudly.

“Up here, Phil, in the office.”

He heard Phillip’s step on the stairs then on the landing.

“Hi.” Phillip entered the office and came directly to Michael’s chair. “Working?”

“I was, but I could use a break. What are you doing here?”

Michael winced inwardly at how the question had come out, more like an accusation, not the way he’d meant it.

“We finished up early.” Phillip leaned on the back of Michael’s chair. His hands settled on Michael’s shoulders, rubbed.

“It was a writer’s conference. How could you finish early? Did everyone run out of words?” As unexpected as this casual touch was—Phillip hardly ever touched him anymore unless it was for sex—Michael leaned into those magnificent hands that had once been so free with touches and caresses.

“Not hardly.” Phillip laughed. His fingers kneaded the tense muscles of Michael’s neck. “That bunch would have gone on ‘til hell froze over.”

“So what are you doing home on Wednesday when the con goes until Friday?” Michael stretched his neck to give Phillip’s magic fingers better access.

“I snuck out early because I wanted to see my lover. So sue me.”

“Yeah? And did you see him?” Michael lowered his cheek to the back of his lover’s hand. He hoped Phillip heard the teasing for what it was. It had been so long since they’d teased each other
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like that it felt a little weird even to go there.

Phillip leaned down over the back of Michael’s chair. His hands sliding down Michael’s chest and stopped at the waistband of his sweats. He pressed his cheek to Michael’s. His beard felt silky and soft against Michael’s face. “Yeah, I did.” Lips nuzzled Michael’s jaw. “How are you? Doing okay?”

“I guess. Sure.” Turning his head, Michael let his lover take the kiss he obviously wanted.

He wants to fuck, Michael thought with not-quite resignation.

Then he felt immediately guilty for his lack of enthusiasm. It wasn’t like he didn’t still enjoy sex with Phillip. He did. Sex for the two of them just wasn’t what it had once been. Of course after twelve years together, what was?

The kiss was brief and with almost no tongue.

Phillip straightened and spun Michael’s chair around. But when Michael started to get to his feet, his lover pressed him back down. “Stay there a minute.”

“Why?” But Michael did as his partner asked and settled back into the chair.