Bonds of Denial (3 page)

“Hey.” Carter leaned forward, his voice gentle. “It’s fine.” He waited for Rock to look at him before he eased back to make room for the waitress who’d returned with their iced teas.

It hadn’t gone unnoticed to Rock that the other man had waited for him to order his drink before doing the same. In the end, they both ordered the steak too. Carter’s medium rare, Rock’s well-done. Not that he’d be able to consume much of it.

The uncomfortable silence returned. Damn, dinner had been a bad idea. Why had he thought it would be nice to get to know the man? Why would the man want to know him? What was he supposed to say? Ask? Talk about?
Shit
.

“I may be wrong here,” Carter started then paused. He folded his arms on the table, leaning in. “But I’m guessing this is the first time you’ve…entertained like this. Am I right?”

It was that obvious? Of course it was. Rock debated how to answer but couldn’t come up with a valid reason not to be honest. “Yes.”

Carter nodded, his easy smile returning. “Can I make a suggestion?”

“Yes.” Hell, yes. All help was willingly accepted at this point.

“We’re just having dinner. Don’t stress about anything else.” He took a drink of his iced tea before continuing. “If I ask you something you don’t want to answer, just say so. No offense. But think of me like your doctor. I don’t repeat, share or divulge anything I hear, see or do.”

Rock stared at him. Carter didn’t flinch or drop his gaze. There appeared to be nothing but truth behind his words. Then again, a man didn’t rise to the top of the escort pool by blabbing his mouth around.

“Right,” Rock said. “And I assume that goes both ways?”

“Correct.” Carter tipped his chin, his smile remaining. “So, military or government?”

The urge to clam up was right there, choking his throat, but there was no reason for it. He exhaled and responded. “Ex-military.”

“Newly freed?”

He gave a tight head shake. “Six years.”

Carter’s gaze lifted. “Is the haircut a statement or simply easy?”

The high-and-tight cut was the only style he’d ever had. It’d never occurred to him to try anything different. “I guess that’d be easy.” Carter’s hair was longer and styled in a casual wave away from his face but was still cut neatly over his ears and off his collar.

“Are you into sports?”

This, Rock could do. “Watch. Play for fun and exercise.”

“Favorite football team?”

“Cowboys.”

The wince that pulled across Carter’s face was filled with mock pain. “Well, I won’t judge you based on that.”

In Rock’s experience, people either loved or hated the Cowboys. There was no in-between. It didn’t sway his opinion. “Vikings for you, then?”

“I’m a born-and-bred Packer fan,” Carter said, his smile flashing. “But I back all of the local teams.”

Rock gave a low snort. “Of course you do. Not that the baseball or basketball teams have given anyone much to cheer about lately.”

“Thankfully, the Vikings and Glaciers have had better seasons,” Carter shot back without hesitating, then shrugged. “But I’m not a diehard fan. I enjoy watching, regardless of the outcome.”

The waitress arrived with their meal, and Rock relaxed some with the good food and the flow of topics that followed. Carter carried the majority of the conversation, but he didn’t seem to mind. The sports talk migrated to home states, touching on Rock growing up on military bases around the world and Carter being raised in Green Bay, then the weather, and finally slowed as they finished their steaks.

“You were right,” Rock said, wiping his mouth on the cloth napkin. “The steak was excellent.”

“Their duck breast is great as well.”

It was a simple statement that went with the topic, but it reminded Rock that this wasn’t just a nice dinner with a colleague or even a real date. Dressed in their suits at a midweek dinner, they could easily be two men discussing business over a meal. But it wasn’t that, was it?

“What’d I say?”

Carter’s question snapped Rock out of his thoughts. “What?”

“Your expression just returned to the pre-dinner stiffness.”

“Nothing.” He shook his head. “I was just thinking. Sorry.”

The waitress returned to remove their plates, her interruption perfectly timed.

Carter rested his arm on the table and leaned in again. The more intimate pose warned Rock of the coming comment. “You’re on to what’s next. Right?”

Directness was something Rock had always appreciated, so he shouldn’t have been surprised by Carter’s. It didn’t stop the unease from returning. “That obvious?”

“You get this crease right here when you’re worrying about something.” Carter ran his finger in a line between his brows.

Instantly, Rock flattened his brow. No one had ever told him that before. Was it true? It would be to the man’s benefit to pick up on his client’s moods and tells, and Rock was probably putting out a shitload of signals without meaning to.

Carter chuckled as he lowered his hand. “Don’t worry about it.”

Easy for him to say.

Rock took care of the bill and they were exiting the restaurant a few minutes later. He made a quick check of his watch as he led the way out. Ninety minutes left. One-and-a-half hour of paid-for time to be filled by what?

He glanced around to see if anyone was paying attention to them as they walked toward the elevators. It was his move. He knew that. But the words weren’t coming.

“Should I grab those papers from your room before I leave?”

A relieved smile formed on his lips. The man was smoother than Rock. Experienced. “Yeah. That’s a good idea.”

The guilt was all his own. No one else would guess what Carter was or what might happen in his room when they got there. And the man’s coat was there. He had to come back up for that at least.

“Mint?” Carter held out a roll as they stepped into the elevator.

Rock accepted one out of pure worry. Did his breath stink? He wasn’t about to do the breath-in-the-palm test to find out. The elevator ride whizzed by in a blur and before he knew it
they were entering his room. Now what? “Would you like a drink?”

“No,” Carter said from behind him. “Thank you.”

Rock crossed to stare out the window. He couldn’t face the man now that the moment was here. His heart was back to the rapid pace that warned of an impending heart attack or, worse, anxiety attack. He didn’t fucking have anxiety attacks.

The dark glass reflected Carter’s approach. The heels of his loafers clicked on the laminate before going silent as he hit the small stretch of carpeting that covered the sitting area under the window.

He didn’t need the visual to know Carter had stopped directly behind him. Every muscle in his body was tense with the anticipation of Carter’s touch. His stomach muscles were sucked in so tight his breaths came out in shallow intakes that barely filled his lungs. His hand tingled from the memory of the simple handshake earlier that had lasted longer than socially acceptable because he’d been unable to let go.

That voice in his head called him a chicken. He couldn’t even meet the man’s eyes in the window reflection. Yet all of his senses were reaching out to Carter. Wanting.

The deep, rich scent of cologne and man snaked around to fill his nostrils, surging to his groin. The heat of Carter’s body blanketed his back, countering the cold from the window that chilled his cheeks. A ghost of a breath blew across the hairs at the base of his neck, so different than the air wafting from the heater.

Intimate. Asking without speaking.

And still he didn’t move.

“Don’t ask, don’t tell?” Carter’s voice was close to Rock’s ear. Quiet.

A small shudder ran down the inside of Rock and he squeezed his eyes closed, jaw clenching to keep the reaction from showing. Desire filled out his dick, his boxer briefs trapping it momentarily in an uncomfortable bend that he endured as punishment.

He should answer Carter’s question. It was the easiest excuse. One he could use with validity. “Yes.” That single word barely required him to move his lips, but it drained him.

The touch came then. A small tracing with a single finger over the too-tight grip he had on his wrist behind his back. The rise and fall of the digit down the line of his thumb to follow the length of a finger to his wrist and back up another was unobtrusive. A whisper of connection that could be dismissed if he had the will to so.

“It’s not wrong.”

But it is
. It was all wrong. Being here. Wanting this. Giving in to a desire he’d successfully denied indulging for seven years.

Carter ran that single finger back up the line of Rock’s thumb to play with the sensitive skin on the inside of Rock’s wrist. He tried not to react. His grip tightened until his pulse thumped insistently against the pads of his fingers. Goose bumps chased up his arm and traveled with lightning speed to harden his nipples into prickling buds.

“Do you want this, Rock?”

Did he?

He didn’t know what the fuck he wanted. No, that wasn’t right. He knew what he wanted, but he wasn’t sure if he could go through with it.

He realized then that his eyes were closed. Still hiding. He forced them open. There was no way he could avoid Carter’s eyes. They peered at him over his shoulder, assessing. Waiting for Rock to respond.

But could he? His throat was so constricted and dry he couldn’t gather enough saliva to
make his voice work.

Carter held his gaze in the window as he took that final step forward, closing the small space that separated them. Rock’s hands were trapped between them, fist settling against the unmistakable ridge of Carter’s arousal.

He rested his hands on Rock’s upper arms and turned his head slightly, keeping his gaze on Rock’s. “What can I do for you?”

The low whisper was a gush of heat into Rock’s ear. He couldn’t stop his head from tilting into the sensation. But he couldn’t ask for it. Asking was equal to admitting.

Carter took the soundless invitation, his tongue sneaking out to trace the shell of Rock’s ear. It was a lazy trail around the outer edge that was a wet fire of stimulation. He pulled the lobe between his lips and suckled it lightly before grazing the edge of his teeth over the loose flesh and pulling away.

Rock’s breath was coming out in deep pants heavy enough to fog the window. His hand was still curled into a fist, the backs of his fingers sliding
over Carter’s erection every time the man moved. He only had to open his hand to grab what was right there.

He didn’t.

“I want to touch you.” Carter spoke the words against Rock’s neck, his lips outlining each syllable.

Rock managed to swallow, but he still couldn’t speak. Was silence consent? He’d never had to agree in the dive bars. The blowjobs or quick hand jobs just happened. Always drunk. Always in the dark. Always excusable.

This wasn’t any of those things.

Carter licked a small pattern of circles along Rock’s neck, distracting him from his rambling thoughts. He hadn’t responded to any of Carter’s questions or statements, but the man persisted. Slowly. Each move done with a caution that gave Rock a chance to say no.

Carter slid his palms up the sides of Rock’s arms before smoothing them across his chest. The touch was firm, the pressure hard enough to mold over every dip and curve of his muscles. It was a blazing path of lava that burned through the layers of his clothes to singe his skin. How hot would the man’s touch be without the material between them?

Scorching, he was certain.

Surrounded by Carter, Rock could only stare at their reflection. The sight of him in another man’s arms was both erotic and terrifying. He’d given and received hugs from men before. This was more than a hug. In fact, this was his first intimate embrace with a man since he’d gotten caught kissing Nicholas when he was fourteen.

The one and only time he’d kissed another man on the lips.

Carter slid his hands down and deftly undid the button on Rock’s jacket. There was no way he could stop his abdominal muscles from contracting when Carter smoothed his palms across Rock’s stomach. The air hissed through his teeth as he sucked in his breath. It was only through force of will that he kept his head from dropping back to rest on Carter’s shoulder.

“Damn, you feel amazing.” The appreciation in Carter’s voice was mirrored in the thorough investigation his hands were making up and down Rock’s chest. “I can’t wait to see you.”

See him? Shit. The thought of being naked in bed with Carter had his pulse racing even faster. He didn’t bother to try and determine which emotion was causing the reaction. They were all too jumbled to decipher at that point.

The vein that ran down the underside of his cock throbbed, his knuckles continued to rub over Carter’s erection, yet he still couldn’t move. To move was to accept.

Heat and nerves swirled with him. Every place Carter touched was set ablaze with a need for more and a desire to run. Blunted nails scraped over Rock’s nipples, tearing a gasp from his lungs. The tender buds responded almost instantly. They hardened more with each continued pass until the sensitive tips were aching for relief or more contact. He couldn’t decide which.

None of the women he’d been with had ever paid attention to his nipples. Not like this. Who the hell knew it would feel so fucking good?

“Your heart is racing.” Carter pressed his palm over the hard thump, each beat pounding into his palm. There was no way to deny it, so Rock stayed silent once again. “That is so damn hot.” His languid words flowed around Rock in the same rhythm that they were spoken. Deep, gruff and sensual.

This slow assault was completely out of his realm of experience. He was floundering as he never had before. He didn’t like how vulnerable it made him feel but couldn’t stop it. Unless he walked away.

Carter pressed a trail of wet kisses up the arch of his neck that timed with the descent of his hands over Rock’s abs, past his belt to the V of his groin. The slow back-and-forth rubbing just out of reach of his dick was a tease that almost had Rock twisting his hips to find that elusive touch.

It was Carter who rocked his hips, the long length of his erection running over the hard ridge of Rock’s knuckles in an up-and-down motion that ran from root to tip. Distracted, Rock flinched when Carter smoothed his palm over Rock’s erection. The firm press over his aching member was both a relief and another form of torture.