L. A. Witt - Rules 1 - Rules of Engagement (19 page)

 

I grinned. “Maybe you should put some on me to level the playing field.”

He raised his head and opened his mouth, I assume, to make a witty remark, but he paused. Then his eyebrows lifted. “I think I like that idea.” He picked up the bottle of massage oil and poured some into his hand.

I sat up to kiss him, inhaling through my nose as he put his hands on my chest, sliding them up to my shoulders. His mouth moved against mine just as slowly as his hands moved on me, the gentle motions mesmerizing me and turning me on. I put my arms around him and didn’t resist as he leaned into me, letting us slowly collapse together on the bed.

Reality faded into a blur of oiled hands gliding over skin, tongues intertwining between gasps and moans, and two bodies moving together like they were each made specifically with the other in mind. He knew where to touch to make me tremble. I knew where to touch to make him bite his lip and hold me tighter. We both knew what we wanted, and when he reached for a condom, it only vaguely occurred to me that I hadn’t actually said the words “I want to fuck you.” I’d only thought them.

I sat up to put the condom on, desperate to be inside him. He glanced at the massage oil bottle. “That stuff
is
condom safe, right?”

“Absolutely. Bought it for that very reason.” I winked at him and tried to tear the wrapper with my teeth, but it slipped out of my oily fingers. Tried and failed again. “Damn it. I guess that assumes you can
get
to the condom.”

He laughed and held out his hand. “Want me to try it, butterfingers?”
I smirked and tossed it to him. “Your hands are as slick as mine. Good luck.”

We both laughed as he struggled with it too. It always amazed me how quickly and seamlessly the mood between us shifted in bed, from playful to sensual to downright horny and right back again with neither of us missing a beat. One second, we were laughing, each trying to pin the other down. The next, we were taking each other’s breath away with little more than the brush of a hand.

And, of course, the next second, we were struggling to get a fucking condom wrapper open when both of our hands were covered in oil.

“Got it!” Brandon said, ripping it open and handing it back to me.

“Thank God.” I quickly rolled it on and reached for the lube. He gave me an inquisitive look, as if waiting for me to tell him how I wanted him. I said nothing, just put my arms around him, kissing him deeply as I lowered him onto his back. As soon as he was in my arms, the playfulness was forgotten, replaced by that delicious sensuality.

“Fuck me,” he whispered against my lips as I teased him with my cock. “Oh my God, I want you to fuck me.” His voice was unsteady, like he was in pain or his teeth were chattering.

I pushed into him slowly, letting my head fall beside his as the sensations overwhelmed me. “Oh fuck.” I shivered as I withdrew, then pushed in again.

He tried to hold onto my shoulders, then my arms, but his oiled fingers slipped on my skin. “That feels fucking—” He gasped as I slammed into him.

Picking up speed, I groaned softly. When my nipples grazed his slick chest, I shivered and lowered myself enough to let my skin slide against his.

Faster and faster, we moved together. Oil mingled with sweat on our skin as moans and gasps mingled in the air. I held myself up on my arms, watching his face as I fucked him, watching his eyes.

“Oh God,” I whispered, struggling to keep my eyes open, not wanting to lose sight of him for even a second for fear that this wasn’t really happening. “Oh my God, I’m gonna come.”

His hands ran up my sides, and he wetted his lips. He tried to speak, gasped instead, and only a moan came out. Finally, he closed his eyes and managed, “You feel incredible, Dustin.”

The look on his face, that blissful, lost expression, was more than I could take. “Oh fuck… oh… fuck….” My arms went out from under me and I caught myself on my elbows as I collapsed over him. His fingertips trailed up my back, making me shiver and gasp as my orgasm kept going.

I let my head fall beside his. The cool softness of his hair felt good against my hot forehead.

“That was a hell of a foot massage,” he said, nuzzling my neck. Lifting my head, I kissed him. “Told you I took a few classes.” He blinked. “They taught you
this
?”
I shrugged. “Well, I modified it a little bit.”
“A little bit?”
“Okay, I bastardized it completely.”
“Works for me.” He kissed me lightly and we both laughed.

We took a long shower, both of us too exhausted for anything more but too caught up in each other to get through it without making out until the water turned cold. By the time we made it back into bed, neither of us could muster the energy to fuck again, so we just held each other, kissed, and talked.

Eventually, Brandon fell asleep against me. Sleep threatened to overtake me, but I wanted to stay awake just a little longer, just to enjoy his presence like this.

The longer I held him, the more I knew that whatever this was between us, it had long since gone beyond chemistry and physical attraction. Either I was throwing myself into my relationship with Brandon to spite my mother and my ex, or I was being drawn into something much, much more intense than a rebellious rebound. I’m not sure which prospect scared me more. All I knew was that I loved being with him and savored every second of this.

The part that really unsettled me, though, was the thought of how much it would hurt if there ever came a time when I couldn’t experience it again.

I
HAD
just finished with a client and sent her to the locker room when Kate came out of her aerobics class.

“Hey slacker,” she said as I caught up with her.
“Slacker? Come on, now.”
“You are a slacker. Don’t even try to bullshit with me.” “Whatever.” I elbowed her playfully. “Hey, do you want to grab a

beer after work?”
She smirked. “You’re not asking me out, are you?”
I rolled my eyes. “Please, I have standards.”
“Low ones.”
“Indeed, but still too high to go out with you.”
“Jackass.”
“I’ve been called worse.” I laughed, then my humor faded.

Lowering my voice, I said, “Seriously. I’ll buy.”
Her smile fell and her eyebrows lifted. “Need to talk?” I nodded.
“I’m off at four. Usual place at four thirty?”
“I’ll be there.”
B
Y THE
time Kate showed up, I had already peeled most of the label off of my beer bottle. She dropped into the chair opposite mine, eyeing the wrapper that was curled around my finger.

“Let’s see,” she said. “Peeling the bottle, barely touched the contents of said bottle, and willing to buy me a beer on a Tuesday afternoon.” She looked at me with a smirk, though there was concern in her eyes. “So what’s going on with the girl?”

I laughed. “Am I really that transparent?”

 

“Dustin, darling, I can read you like a book. So what’s going on? Is it the girl or your mom?”

“Both, in a way.”
She straightened. “Dustin, you’re not—”
“That’s not what I meant, you pervert.”
We both laughed. Then she said, “Okay, okay, tell me.” I watched my own fingers pulling the label off of the bottle,

giving me something to look at besides her. “So I told you that I met someone. And that I thought I fucked things up, but everything’s cool.” “Right….”
“And remember how I said my mom wouldn’t back off until I met a girl?”
“Yes….”
My cheeks were suddenly on fire, and I furrowed my brow, staring harder at the label I was peeling.
“Dustin?”
I took a breath and lowered my voice. “Look, this has to stay between you and me, okay?”
She blinked. “You know it will.”
I chewed my lip. “I met someone, and….” My heart raced. Kate was my closest friend. Of all people, she wouldn’t judge me. Yet I was still terrified to tell her. Or maybe I was just terrified of hearing myself say the words. Of somehow making it more real than it already was.
“And…?” She cocked her head. “She’s a serial killer?”
I laughed. “No.”
“Cult leader?”
“No.”
“Terrorist?”
“No.”
“Come on Dustin, tell me.” She paused. “I mean, it’s not a man, is it?”
My breath lodged in my throat, and I stared at her.
Smiling, she said, “I
knew
it!”
I blinked. “You—what? How?”
She grinned. “The guy that came into the gym yesterday. That was him, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah,” I said, taken aback. “How did you know?”
“Come on. I’ve never seen you get that nervous with a client.” She laughed. “I had a feeling you two knew each other
somehow
.”
The wrapper broke free from the bottle, and I absently rolled it between my fingers. “Yeah, you could say that.”
“So how long have you been seeing him?”
I shrugged. “A while. We met a few weeks ago, and….” Another shrug.
“Just hit it off?”
Shifting uncomfortably, I nodded. “Basically.”
“Good taste, by the away,” she said matter-of-factly, saluting me with her beer bottle before taking a drink.
“Thanks,” I said with a nervous laugh.
“So…?” she cocked her head, narrowing her eyes a little as if trying to silently pry information out of me. “I assume something is on your mind besides just needing to tell someone your dirty little secret.”
“Dirty little secret?” I feigned offense.
“Well, if it’s not dirty, I don’t want to talk about it.” She paused. “At least tell me it’s not little, or—”
I choked on my beer and we both laughed. Coughing and clearing my throat, I shook my head. “I’m not telling you anything in that department—”
“So you
have
done the dirty with him.”
I rolled my eyes. “Jesus, Kate, of course I have. What? Do you think we just sit in the living room and watch
The Sound of Music
?”
She giggled. “I’m never going to think of ‘My Favorite Things’ the same again.”
“I am so changing the CD when you lead your next aerobics class.”
“Don’t you dare.”
“I will.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“I don’t know, your class might enjoy listening to ‘Climb Every Mount—’”
It was her turn to choke on her drink. “Okay, okay, I’m not going to let you ruin my favorite musical any further. Now tell me what’s up.”
Fidgeting in my seat, I chewed my thumbnail. “Okay, so….” I took a breath, my fingers once again toying with the label from my beer bottle. “Here’s the thing. Before I met him, every woman I dated was Stephanie’s polar opposite, like—”
I stopped when her mouth made a silent “O” and she gave a single, slow nod, as if the pieces had fallen together in her mind. “So you think that this guy—he has a name, right?”
“Brandon.”
“Brandon.” She nodded. “Okay, so you think you’re attracted to Brandon because he’s so much different from Stephanie?”
“Exactly. That’s exactly it.” Lifting my beer bottle to my lips, I added, “Especially after what my brother said at his wedding.”
Her eyebrow jumped. “Which was?”
I rolled a sip of beer around on my tongue, then swallowed it and said, “He said that between Stephanie and my mother, he was surprised I hadn’t sworn women off completely.”
She tapped her beer bottle against her lips. “He’s got a point.”
“I know. That’s why it concerns me.”
She set her beer down and put her elbows on the table, leaning closer to me and keeping her voice low. “When you first met him, did your ex even cross your mind?”
Nothing crossed my mind except how badly I wanted to taste him
. “Not once.”
“And do you think of her when you’re with him?”
I can’t think of anything when I’m with him
. “Very, very rarely.”
“Well, you’re the only one that can decide if your attraction to Brandon is because of him or because of Stephanie.” She looked at the table, pursing her lips. “But I’ll be honest, Dustin….”
“Please do. Whatever it is, just tell me.”
When she looked at me, there was no trace of humor in her expression, not a single hint that she was fucking with me. “To tell you the truth, I would be willing to bet money that this thing with Brandon has nothing to do with Stephanie.”
I swallowed. “What makes you say that?”
“Look, I had a feeling there was something going on between you guys as soon as he came to the gym yesterday. I didn’t want to pry, but I could tell.”
Remembering the day before sent my temperature up several degrees, so I closed my hand around the cold beer bottle to cool myself down. “Oh?”
“Dustin, I knew you’d met someone before you told me,” she said. “I have
never
seen that look in your eyes before. And yesterday? I mean, I’d never thought of you with another man, but I knew. As soon as he got there, I knew.” She played with the label on her own beer bottle for a moment, then looked at me. “It was kind of funny, actually. It didn’t even strike me as ‘oh my God, Dustin’s
gay
?’ It was just—” She let out a breath, pursing her lips as if frustrated that the words eluded her.
I took a drink. “Like you noticed my significant other but not the fact that he’s a man?”
“Exactly. Yes, exactly.”
Toying with the peeled label, I said, “That’s about how I’ve felt about it from the beginning. It’s like, in my head, I think I should be questioning the fact that I’m seeing another guy, but….”
“But it feels right?”
I nodded.
She smiled, raising her eyebrows. “Then what’s the problem?”
“How do I know this isn’t just some rebound thing I’m throwing myself into to get over Stephanie?”
“Not with what I saw yesterday.” She dropped her gaze for a second. “In fact, and this is going to sound incredibly stupid, but….”
In any other conversation, I would have ribbed her, told her it was hardly the first time she’d sounded stupid, but she was uncharacteristically serious. I finally managed, “Try me.”
Taking a breath, she met my eyes. “There was one point yesterday, when you looked at him. I can’t,” she made a sharp, frustrated gesture with one hand, “I can’t describe it, but the way you looked at him,” she swallowed hard, and I swore her voice was unsteady when she said, “Dustin, I would
kill
to have a man look at me like that.”