Brainy and the Beast (23 page)

Holy cow
. Shame washed over me. What in the hell was I doing? First I’d fucked it up with Henry; now I was pushing my dad around? Not literally, but still.

I stepped back, raising my hands. “Dad. I’m-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to let it get out of hand.”

He exhaled heavily. “Nick, I…I think this whole heart thing has gotten to my brain. I didn’t used to be this sensitive.” He rested one hip against the sink, rubbing a hand over his face, then produced a half smile.

I jerked my head at Grant. “How about we all put everything away?” I pulled a loaded bag toward me and started to remove the food items. When Grant did likewise, I smiled sheepishly at my family. “Then I guess I’ll be heading over to Henry’s to see if he’s still talking to me.” I rolled my eyes.

“Good idea. Because there’s absolutely no way I’m eating your cooking on Thanksgiving.”

My dad always had been a gracious winner.

* * * *

So now what? Was I supposed to crawl and beg forgiveness?
Should I act like I didn’t know what was bugging Henry, especially since I didn’t?
And I was pretty sure I hadn’t done a damned thing wrong that I could see. This dating thing was a pain in the ass. Might have been why I’d never been much good at it.

As I drove toward Henry’s house, I tried to figure out what the heck I was going to say.
So, Doc. My dad says I should come over and make nice
. Great. That made me sound like I was twelve again.
Doc. Grant likes you now. He told me
. Wow. That was even more sixth grade than the first comment.
Loser.

Way before I was ready, the ride that normally took ten to fifteen minutes—and this time took thirty—was over and I was pulling in to Henry’s driveway.

If he had indeed come home after leaving my house, any tracks he’d left had filled in. Jeez, it had been just a couple of hours since he must have come home. I grimaced, thinking of the weather forecast that morning. Those clowns had promised two inches, max. “Thanks, guys.”

It was eerily quiet for just after four in the afternoon, and when I shut the car door, it sounded extra loud. This late in November, the days were shorter. Twilight had arrived, and the grayish light dulled the orange-brown brick color on Henry’s house, blending it with the sandy limestone accents. I could see a few lights on inside, so I sure as hell hoped Henry was home.

It was the Saturday before Turkey Day, and a good number of the heavy hitters around here had usually headed south by this time. I imagined a lot of the houses were indeed empty. Prime pickings for the criminal class—except that Lake Forest took stuff like that seriously, and police patrols roamed the neighborhoods regularly.

I hunched my shoulders into my heavy jacket. The temperature was hovering around twenty-five, and the forecast I’d just heard was for ten more inches. I arched my brows a little at all the snow around me. The white stuff was piled about three feet high around the garage apron and near the house. My luck, the latest storm warning was going to be the correct one.

I walked quickly to the side door, shivering all the way. “Damn it, Henry.” I was still ticked at him for taking off, and now I was getting irritated because I was freezing—pussy that I was.

I banged on the wood door, careful not to hit the light in the top half. If he had been ticked when he left my house, he’d be a lot more pissed if I broke the glass. It had a curtain covering it, so I couldn’t see if he’d responded. After a minute or so, when he didn’t answer, I began ringing the bell. After two punches of the button, I saw movement behind the opaque panel. Then the door was yanked open.

Henry had a half-full wineglass in one hand, and he stretched his other arm up along the edge of the door as he stared at me. “Yes?”

Wow
. “Hey.” I stamped my feet to loosen the white fluffy stuff. “Um. How’s it going?” I closed my eyes for a second. Really? Smooth operator, huh?

“Just fine, actually.” Henry raised his glass to his lips, watching me over the rim.

“Oh. Good. Good.” I shoved my hands in my jeans pockets. “You…um, you took off from my house pretty fast.”

“My fish were hungry.”

I nodded my head before I realized what he’d said. “What? You have that automatic feeder thingy. You said you just had to check it every couple of days.” He’d drilled that into me before he’d let me take care of his precious finny friends. “You know, when you gave me the tour before you went to Cali? You introduced me to them.” Every one of them. Henry had spent at least ten minutes on each of the scaly bastards.

“Oh, yes. That’s right.”

“You going to let me in?”

“Why? Is there something you wanted to talk to me about?” Now Henry was arranged nonchalantly against the door frame.

“Yeah, asshole. There is.”

I pushed past him, grateful he let me. He lifted his hand holding the glass high enough that I didn’t knock into it.

I kicked off my Sorels and dumped them on the boot tray Henry always kept near the door, then tossed my coat onto one of the kitchen chairs. I hurried over to the fireplace, desperate to warm up. I heard Henry shove the door closed behind me.

He had music blasting, the first time I could recall it being that loud in his house. Normally, he played some classical-sounding crap that drove me buggy. “Is that Elvis?” I couldn’t have been more surprised. Stuffy, aristocratic Henry liked the King? Liked the singer enough to really crank whichever classic that was. “I never would have figured you as a fan. Is that—what song is that?” I knew most of Elvis’s stuff, but that one sounded new to me.

Henry dropped gracefully into a leather club chair near the fire. Despite clearly being pissed at me, he was as smooth as ever. He crossed his legs, easing back and eyeing me speculatively. “‘If I Can Dream.’”

“I like it.” I slid my fingers into my back pockets.

“I’m so glad.”

Scowling, I looked around for the remote. “Can I turn it down a little?”

With an eye roll that would have done Grant proud, Henry set his glass down and reached for what looked like a small tablet computer. He tapped the screen a few times, and the music level quieted.

“Is that a remote?” Stupid question. Of course it was. “I’ve never seen one like it.”

“That’s because I built it.” Henry placed it back on the table. “It works with all the smart programming I’ve installed.”

Wow. Oh, wow. This guy—this brainy guy—was just amazing.

“Huh. Um, I’ve been thinking of upgrading some of the technology at the shop. Maybe…maybe you could work with me on that?”

Henry sighed. “What did you want to talk to me about, Nicholas?”

Shit
. I paced in front of the fire, delaying as long as I could before dropping into the leather chair opposite his. I propped my elbows on my knees and clasped my hands together. I looked at the floor. “Doc. Um. I’m not sure what I said that might have maybe ticked you off—”

“Really?” Without taking his gaze off me, Henry picked up his glass.

“Uh, yeah.” His attitude was starting to piss
me
off.

“That’s too bad, then, isn’t it?”

“Look. You got your panties in a wad—”

“Excuse me?” The base of his glass made a distinct
click
as he set it back on the table.

“Well, how else can I describe it? I was just having some fun. Sabeom asked me to spar, for Christ’s sake. What was I supposed to say? No? Then you get all emo on me.”

Henry stood up at that. “Emo? Does that mean what I think it means?”

I shot to my feet. “Probably. If you think it means you’re acting like a girl.”

Henry moved closer. “I really don’t think you want to go there, Nicholas.”

“Yeah? Maybe I do.” Why was I pushing him so hard?

One eyebrow arched. “You do, eh? I wonder why that is. Are you feeling guilty?”

I made a disgusted sound. “What? Why would I feel guilty? About anything?”

“Why, that’s the question of the hour, isn’t it?” He took another step.

Listen, I could play stupid with the best of them. I shrugged irritably. “I don’t know.”

“Why are you here?” His wine-scented breath was warm on my face. It distracted me, had me watching his lips when they moved again. They were smooth, kind of a peach tint, slightly darker than the pale skin of Henry’s face.

Henry snapped his fingers near my face, and I jerked my head in reaction. “What?”

“You were staring at me.”

“I was?”

“Mm-hmm.”

God
. His voice had gotten lower. His amazing blue eyes were still glaring at me, though.

“Oh.” I was having trouble staying on task. “Right.”

“I asked you if you wanted me to show you how emo I can be?”

“I think…” Did I dare? Was I going to do this? I inhaled slowly, my belly tight. “Um. Yeah, I do.”

His mouth opened for a second. “Oh.”

Funny, now that I’d said it, I felt my tension ease somewhat. “You look surprised.”

He cleared his throat. “I am, actually.” He shook his head. “You are the most irritating individual, do you know that?” He inched closer.

“Yeah?” I tilted my head just enough to meet his eyes. The Jaguar blue was so hot. “That turn your crank, Doc?”

“And you’re so damned cocky.” His hips nudged mine. “At first, your social ineptness was somewhat endearing. Then I began to see your real personality.”

That was definitely a hard dick bumping me. “You must like it. Me. Whatever.” My jeans were getting tight.

“Perhaps you’re right.” He reached up and grasped the thick hair at the crown of my head. “Perhaps I have a previously undiscovered need for aggravation in my life.” He tugged, hard.

I hissed in a short breath. Damn, but Henry knew how to get me going. “You—don’t pull my hair.”

Henry pushed his whole body against mine, straddling my feet with his. “You like it.”

“No. No, I don’t.” His palm slipped to my neck. When he ran his tongue up my throat, I dropped my head back.

“Liar.” He nipped the skin under my jaw; then he closed his teeth on my earlobe.

“God.” My hands settled at his hips, tugging him tightly to me.

“No. Just me.” He sucked my lobe into his mouth, the pinch hurting so good.

I grunted. “I might be aggravating, but you brainy types can be a real pain, you know that?”

“I wasn’t aware of that, no.”

“You are.” I bit my lip, his touch sending thrills of excitement through me. “You make me—”

Want.

Need.

Him.

He moved to my other ear, and to my chagrin, I whimpered.

“I make you what?”

The hand at my head held me tightly, shifting me as he played with my ears. “Youmakemeneedthis.” A small moan escaped me. “Need you.” My dick had most definitely perked up; in fact I could feel it leaking as it twitched. “Doc. Henry.” I slid both hands up his back, pulling our chests together.

“Yes, Nicholas?” He was practically purring now, and I could feel the satisfaction just oozing off him. He was way too happy to hear my admission.

“Are you going to cook Thanksgiving dinner for us or not?”

He froze, then jerked his head away, fixing a laser stare at me. It took a few seconds, but then the bunched muscles in his jaw relaxed. “Oh, you are a cocky bastard.” He tugged my hair again, and I let him. “You’re determined to keep me on my toes, aren’t you?”

I rolled my hips at him, feeling once again on my game. “I’d pretty much rather have you on your back. Or your knees.”

He grunted what sounded like a laugh and brought his brow to rest against mine. “You. You are absolutely one of a kind.” Our noses rubbed softly. “But I had something a little different in mind.” He slid his hands down my arms, then wrapped his fingers around my wrist. “Come with me.” He yanked, and I followed.

This was about the fourth or fifth time I’d been in his bedroom, so I knew exactly where he was taking me. Heat rushed through my body, and I jittered my fingers as I went. I had a hard time not knocking them against the giant fish tank as I passed.

“Don’t touch the glass, Nicholas.” The brain didn’t even look back at me when he said that.

“What?” I tried for innocent. The damned fish got more of his attention than I did at times, and just once I wanted to bang on the glass and give them the single-finger blessing.

“I may not know all the thoughts that are running around in that strange frontier you call a mind, but I can certainly tell when you want to antagonize my pets.”

“Hah. Your pets. Pets have four legs and a tail. Everybody knows that.”

Henry spun to face me in the doorway to his bedroom. “Sometimes they have two legs.” His eyes scanned me up and down before meeting mine. “And a luscious cock.”

Christ
. “When you talk dirty, it really gets me going, you know?”

“Really? Because I thought it was the idea of being my pet that got you so hard, so fast. It couldn’t be because you’re jealous of my beauties. Could it?” He drifted backward into his bedroom, fingers waving lazily at me in a come-hither motion.

I licked my lips, excited at the thought of what we’d be doing as soon as I could get Dr. Love naked. “Uh-huh. I mean, no. Yeah.”
Whatever
. I shrugged it away. Who cared anyway?

The long fingers moved again, this time pointing at my clothes. “Off.”

I was never shy when it came to hitting it. Even though Henry was making me
think
, no way did my mental gymnastics at all change my view on getting a little something. I ripped my jeans and sweater away and yanked my boxer briefs down. I threw my socks to the side, then stepped up close to Henry, my dick pointing the way. “What about you?” I slid my fingers under his cashmere sweater, intending to lift it over his head.

“Oh, no, Nicholas. I want you on your back, stretched out for me.” He jerked his head toward the king-size bed.

Jesus, that made me hot. “Okay, Doc. Whatever you say. You know I’m game.” I crawled onto the mattress.

He crossed his arms in front of himself and drew his sweater up and over his head. “Oh, yes, indeed, I do. I’m counting on that.” His yellow button-down followed, along with the white T-shirt. As he drew his belt free of his pant loops, I palmed my cock. My hard-on was almost painful, and I began jacking myself, running my palm over the head to spread my jizz as lubricant.