Better Than Safe (23 page)

Seth chortled merrily, yanking me over him hard so I collapsed on his chest. “I’m not modest. I’m a heathen. I’d walk around naked all day and night if I could do it without getting arrested.”

“Then why—” I stopped and rolled over so I faced him, lying on my side. I loved his beautiful smile. I didn’t want to spoil the postorgasmic mood by bringing up something potentially painful. I reached out to trace his jaw and twirled a strand of his hair around my finger. “I love your hair. It’s so—”

“Hey. I’m sorry I—I haven’t been with anyone I really trusted in a while. That’s all.” He smiled self-consciously as he tucked his arm under his head. The gesture made him seem so damn young. So vulnerable. I felt an almost foreign surge of protectiveness. I reached out to caress his cheek, delighting in his hum of approval. “I almost always top, but I didn’t want to this time. I had this intense feeling I—”

“What?”

“I needed you inside me. Needed, not wanted. I mean, I wanted you too, but… well, it was bigger than that. I feel safe with you in a weird way.”

His words felt like a gift I wasn’t sure how to unwrap. I swallowed hard as I traced a circular pattern around his nipple.

“Please don’t tell me you really are looking for a daddy,” I joked lamely.

Seth laughed then sidled closer so our flaccid cocks rested against each other. He slid his foot between mine, entangling our legs in a pretzel-like twist.

“No. I’m not. I only said that to scare your date away. He was a tight-ass. You deserve better.”

“Thank you.”

“I like you, Paul. I’m not looking for a boyfriend or a daddy.” He smirked. “But I like you and this… was perfect.”

I smiled and clasped his hand, aware the magnetic pull went beyond the fact we were naked in bed, soaked in each other’s sweat with our hearts still racing. I agreed with everything he said. I liked him too. Why deny or analyze? I could chalk it up to the strange spell he had over me. The one that had me chasing after him in supermarkets and getting kicked out of museums. But I sensed something deeper. I saw a yearning in his gaze I couldn’t decipher but thought might be the mirror image of what I felt. I wasn’t ready to explore uncharted territory. It was too soon. I couldn’t afford to take improbable risks. And Seth was… improbable, to say the least.

DC
SUMMERS
weren’t my favorite. They were hot, humid, and overrun with tourists. I’d been lucky to escape nearly every year I’d lived in the city before the worst of the sweltering heat set in. My work had taken me to Australia, New Zealand, Japan, and… one fateful summer a couple of years ago, to Indonesia. I loved discovery in travel and enjoyed getting away from the crowds of tourists at home. But now… I had a reason to stay.

I reassigned a trip to Alaska to one of the assistant directors. The purpose was to scout location shoots with a couple of high profile periodicals. I’d been looking forward to going since it had first been mentioned in late spring when I’d returned from South America. I figured I’d be in DC through June and off again for at least six weeks. Except I didn’t want to go now. Truthfully, I was a bit of a hero for passing the trip off by claiming I was needed in the office. But the real reason would have been obvious to anyone paying attention.

The raven-haired beauty with the rebellious soul of a beatnik poet captivated me. Utterly. I wanted to hold him at arm’s length and save myself from certain heartache, but… I couldn’t. He was under my skin in every conceivable way. Since the fateful night he’d come home with me from the Pelican Club, we spent a great deal of time together. I would wake up with his head on my heart, threading my fingers through his hair thinking as much as I loved this, tonight I’d tell him I had to work or, hell, alphabetize my collection of ancient jazz records. Anything to avoid this careening sensation. A free-fall to my undoing. And yet, who in their right mind would walk away from this?

A random weekday before Seth weaseled his way into my life went as follows: work out, work, business dinner or quiet night at home, bed, repeat. Granted, my job was colorful. I met interesting people and I loved being involved in high-level decision-making for fashion powerhouse advertisement. But I didn’t love being alone. Now, I could barely keep up with my life. I juggled stressful phone calls with anxious fashion editors with ridiculous text messages from Seth asking anything from my favorite type of Chinese food to what I thought about Machiavelli. The out-of-context wacky non sequiturs caught me unaware. A series of rapid-fire silly questions might be followed by hours of silence, which was equally disconcerting. My sanity was slipping, and I couldn’t decide how I felt about it.

I was on my third stressful conference call of the morning when my phone vibrated on my desk.

It’s Wednesday

Huh?

“Yes, I understand, Margaret. The copy can be altered, but I honestly think this one is spot-on. It’s edgy and is a perfect reflection of the ad photo.” I glanced back at my cell once I felt I’d made my point.

It’s a great outdoor painting day. Meet me at the river at 5

I listened to the cacophony of voices chiming in on the call before responding to Seth’s text.

Where specifically? I’m not sure I can.

By the bridge. Try

I stared at my phone, waiting for more information. He left no punctuation on his message, though that wasn’t unusual. In fact, he’d made fun of me a few times for being a grammar fanatic even in text form. I read his message a few times, thinking he was awfully presumptuous. To leave my office at five was unheard of. I’d have to leave at four-thirty to traverse downtown traffic to get to the far end of Georgetown. Not acceptable. I typed a quick reply, but didn’t press Send. I set my cell aside and decided to let it go for now. My attention was required on the call and I was soon distracted by the usual flux of emergencies ranging from soothing egos to finding a creative way to breathe life into photos of sullen-faced anemic models.

I glanced at his message and at my unsent reply a few times throughout the day, wondering why he couldn’t go about “dating” in a more conventional manner. Seth wasn’t the type you asked for dinner to a five-star restaurant, arranging a time and place to meet a few days in advance. He appreciated simple fare over extravagance. He’d certainly been exposed to an opulent lifestyle while modeling in Europe, so it wasn’t a matter of ignorance. He simply didn’t care for it. He had a funny way of straddling the line between the finer things in life with an appreciation for basic pleasures. He liked music, art, and literature, but could happily get lost in video games and watching mindless television too.

The time we spent together was amazing, but erratic and difficult for me to quantify. Seth was flighty and given to whims of fancy. I would suggest dinner and he’d bring over ingredients to make a vegetable orzo. Or he’d tell me about a movie he loved that I hadn’t seen and would go on about how it was an absolute must that I drop everything and see it immediately. Then he’d show up at my office, flirt shamelessly with my poor besotted secretary until I agreed I was ready to leave for the day, only to be whisked off to see the movie he’d mentioned mere hours ago. I couldn’t keep up. So I went along, vowing to keep my head above water and enjoy what was certainly the best sex I’d experienced in eons.

Seth was carefree, spontaneous, and insatiable. I may have been cautious, but I wasn’t a complete idiot. I wasn’t about to put the brakes on a younger lover with a voracious appetite because it was wiser to move slowly. There was no point. My cock gave me away every time. My best intention to be a gentleman was thrown aside the second he pressed his lithe body against mine. We could be debating some minor piece of current news one moment, and the next I’d somehow end up on my knees, driving into him relentlessly, trying to keep up with his constant pleas to fuck him harder. I thought he’d want to top occasionally since he’d done so the first time we were together at the hotel, but he didn’t seem interested. My only wish was that the niggling fear of uncertainty would subside so I could truly enjoy being with him.

Because I was led by some inexplicable inner force encouraging me to dive headfirst into heartache, I left my office at four-thirty that Wednesday, telling my astonished secretary I’d check in later. Maybe.

“O-kay. Are you feeling sick?” Kerri’s pretty face was scrunched in a funny look of concern and mild astonishment.

“No, I’m well. I… I’ll see you tomorrow.” I smiled briefly and ducked out the door before she could ask any further questions, like “are you sane?” That one I would have had a harder time answering truthfully.

T
HE
J
ULY
heat was brutal. Even in the late afternoon. I tossed my lightweight suit coat into the backseat, pulled off my tie, and unbuttoned my shirt before starting my journey. I didn’t bother texting or even calling Seth to let him know I was on my way. If I were foolish enough to go along with his spur-of-the-moment “ideas,” I deserved whatever met me on the other side.

“You’re late.”

“Excuse me?” I bent to kiss his temple in greeting and willed my racing heart to beat normally.

Seth was sitting on a beach chair in the grass with a large sketchbook balanced on his knee and colored pencils strewn at his bare feet on a red and white checkered blanket. He was dressed in dark shorts and a paint-stained white T-shirt with his longish hair tied neatly at his nape. He looked, if possible, more striking than ever with his chiseled features and bright blue eyes. I swallowed hard and turned my gaze to his drawing.

“What do you have there?”

“I have here the Key Bridge in July. What do you think?”

The drawing was really more a riot of color than a true sketch. Brilliant blues and reds on a horizontal plane. “Uh.”

Seth threw his head back and laughed. The sound was joyous and infectious. I chuckled along, though I had no idea what the joke was.

“It’s a rough sketch. I’m trying to capture the movement.” He smiled sweetly, then shifted to sit on the blanket and directed me to take his chair.

“Don’t worry. I’ll sit on the bl—”

“Sacrilege! Zegna on a nasty old picnic blanket? Never! I’ve spent too much time being paid to wear haute couture to allow you to ruin yours sitting on the ground. Besides, you’ve been working all day while I’ve been… well, working too, but not in an office.”

“Have you been here all afternoon?”

“I had a modeling job this morning, then I went to my studio, but it was too hot and I needed to be outside, ya know? Are you hungry? I brought a picnic. And what do you think of my drawing? You never said.”

“I don’t think I’m understanding more than half of what you’re saying, but I don’t think it’s a language barrier. You’re speaking too quickly.” I unbuttoned my shirtsleeves and folded them around my elbow before glancing down at him from my low perch on the beach chair.

“Want to take your shoes and socks off? You’ll be more comfortable.”

“And you’re ignoring me. It makes me nutty.”

He launched into another round of laughter before sobering. He set his sketchpad and pencils beside himself and crawled into the space between my open thighs like a cat burrowing for attention. I gave into temptation and cradled his head before bending to kiss his luscious mouth. He tasted like sunshine. I brushed a stray lock of hair behind his ear, thinking how damn lovely he was. Confusing perhaps, but refreshing too.

“Nutty, huh? I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You would.”

“Don’t get cranky. I brought wine, cheese, and crackers and some gourmet sandwiches to share when you’re ready for real food. Red or white?”

“White, please.”

“It’s a Chardonnay. A good one. I chilled it before I came down here, but I don’t know if—”

“What are you about this time? Explain.”

“I’m….” He ducked his head to work the corkscrew, but I could have sworn he blushed. I was more curious than ever.

“Go on.”

“It’s no big deal. I wanted to come down here and when you didn’t say no, I figured I’d make it into a… you know….”

“Into a what?”

His forehead was wrinkled in frustration, but he didn’t look up at me again until he’d poured my wine into a red plastic cup and handed it over with a smug grin.

“A sort of date.”

I bit my bottom lip hard in an effort not to overwhelm him with the full magnitude of my smile. I was touched. I took the wine and waited until he’d poured himself one before raising the cup in a toast.

“Thank you. Cheers.”

“You’re welcome.”

“So you’ve been here for a while, then?”

“Nah, only thirty minutes. I had my buddy drop me off. I told you five and then set my watch forward so I wouldn’t be late. It’s nice down here, huh?”

“It is,” I agreed, taking a sip. I wanted to study him for clues, but I didn’t know what to look for, so I turned my attention to the rows of colorful kayaks lined up along the river’s edge. “Tell me about your drawing. I don’t know why, but I visualized you standing at an easel with a smock and palette, creating a new masterpiece.”