Serpentine Walls (4 page)

“Hey,” Pete began. Matthew distracted him by putting a hand on his shoulder and dazzling him with his happy smile.

“Pete! You need another beer?”

“No, thanks.” There was something about Matthew that made Pete feel good. “I gotta take off, but I wanted to thank you for the party. It’s awesome.”

“Oh,” Matthew said, disappointed. “You’re leaving so soon? I wanted to sing some karaoke with you.”

“Oh yeah. I want to do that sometime.”

Matthew grinned, and Pete felt it all the way inside.
Warm.
Like a glowing ember. Jesus, stop with the weird metaphors.

“We’ll make it happen,” Matthew promised. “Thanks again for coming.”

Pete tore himself away from Matthew and joined Angie, John, and Cleo. Parker had moved on to photograph someone else, but Angie still wore the purple wig. They paused in their conversation as he approached, regarding him expectantly.

“Well?” drawled John. “I told you to make your move on your crush, but I didn’t think you’d be doing it
this
fast.”

“Shut up. I—”

“God, he’s so absolutely gorgeous,” Angie gushed. “How are you still alive? What happened? How was—”

“I think he was about to tell us,” Cleo said, interrupting Angie’s flow of words.

“Actually, I came to say that I’m going home with him, so—”

“What?” Angie broke in, wiggling like she was unable to contain herself. “Ohmigod, Pete! Sorry. Go on.” She clamped her hand over her mouth, eyes big.

“Calm down.” John rubbed her back.

“That’s it,” Pete said. “Nothing more to tell you at this point.”

Cleo had a strange expression on her face, almost like she disapproved.

“What’s up, babe?” John asked her.

“Nothing.” She heaved an exasperated sigh and turned to Pete. “Look. I feel like I need to warn you about Aidan. I’ve known him for years, and yes, he’s gorgeous, but he’s also a real operator. I’ve been to tons of parties with him, and he picks someone up and leaves with them every time. And it’s never the same guy twice.”

“Okay,” Pete said, somewhat at a loss. He didn’t care about Aidan’s past sexual exploits, not when he was the one going home with him.

Angie protested, “You never know, though. Even if he
is
an operator, he might be ready for something more. He might even be The One!”

Pete held up his hands. “Slow down! I’m not looking to marry the guy. All I’m doing is going home with him. We’ll probably hook up and that’s it. I’ve got a condom. Okay?”

“Yeah,” John said, while Cleo and Angie frowned. “Back off, ladies. Let Pete have his hookup in peace.”

“God. Okay, I’m outta here. Don’t wait up for me.”

“Have fun,” he heard John call as he stalked away.

Thankful to escape his friends, Pete opened the front door and stepped out onto the front porch, where Aidan slouched against the railing, his long legs crossed at the ankles, his arms folded over his broad chest. As soon as he saw him, Aidan straightened up with a smile, and Pete felt a wave of attraction so intense it was like a sucker punch to the gut.

“Ready?” Aidan asked.

“Ready.”

A
IDAN
opened the door and ushered Pete into a large studio apartment. Very large—it must have stretched the entire floor of the building, and was easily as big as his and Angie’s two-bedroom. It reminded Pete of those loft apartments he’d seen in the movies, like the one in
Hannah and Her Sisters
,
where Max von Sydow and the sexy sister lived.

“Wow. This is all yours? No roommates?”

“Yep.” Aidan threw down his keys. “Come on in. I’m going to work on the ambiance.” He walked over to a sideboard, grabbed a book of matches, and began to light the candles that were located in different spots around the room.

Pete took a few more steps into the apartment. Aidan’s place was amazing. The furniture was all sleek lines and dark wood, and Pete was pretty sure none of it came from Ikea.

“How long have you lived here?” he asked, surveying the abstract art and vintage photographs on the walls.
And why are you living in a movie set?

“Since second year.”

Second year?
Pete tried and failed to picture himself or any of his friends living in a place like this. Aidan’s parents must be wealthy or interior decorators, because, seriously? The only sign that a college student lived here was the mess of books and papers piled next to a laptop on a large table in the corner.

“Was this—I mean, did your parents used to live here or something?”

Aidan gave him a funny look as he blew out the match. “My parents? No. They live in McLean.”

“Oh.” Pete decided to shut his stupid mouth before he put his foot in it even more.

Aidan paused by a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf that held a set of speakers. “What kind of music would you like?”

“Just not Barry White,” Pete said, glancing around the room at the flickering candles.

“Ha, ha, very funny.” Aidan pushed a few buttons on a console, and the room filled with some slow, moody electronica. “You want to smoke a bowl?”

“Uh, sure.” Getting high might be good. This seduction scene with the candles and music, along with gorgeous Aidan and the fucking movie-set apartment, was making Pete feel awkward as hell.
What am I even doing here?
Some suave devil along the lines of George Clooney or Cary Grant would be more appropriate.

Aidan indicated a spot on the rug in front of a low coffee table. “Sit down, and I’ll be there as soon as I can get these off.” He began to remove his boots.

Boots in August—Pete pulled off his flip-flops and lined them up underneath the coffee table, wondering again how Aidan kept so cool. A hookah sat on the table, beautiful and unusual-looking, with ornate gold filigree around the base.
Trust Aidan not to have an ordinary pipe
, Pete thought as Aidan joined him on the rug, now barefooted.

“That’s an interesting hookah,” Pete said, just for the sake of something to say, watching Aidan ready the bowl and light the charcoal.

“Isn’t it a beauty?” Aidan asked, caressing the base of the hookah. He took a hit and passed the hose to Pete. “A friend got it for me in London.”

Pete pulled the pot smoke into his lungs, held it, and let it go. “Your whole place is, like, classy. That’s a great screen,” he added as his eyes lit on a large wooden screen with inlaid panels that looked Japanese. It must have cost a fortune.
So, Aidan is gorgeous, talented, and rich
. A real catch, as Angie would say, if Pete were interested in that kind of thing… which he wasn’t. He was here for a hookup and nothing more.

“I love that screen. I like beautiful things.” Aidan took another toke.

Aidan’s mouth is a beautiful thing
, Pete mused, riveted by the stream of smoke issuing slowly from between his full lips. He accepted the hose from Aidan, inhaled, and drifted, his eyes lingering on Aidan’s mouth.
Goddamn. It’s a crime how beautiful he is. A fucking crime.

“Hey.” Aidan’s voice was soft. Pete lifted his eyes from Aidan’s mouth with a guilty start to find him pinning him with a sultry gaze. “Come here.”

Pete needed no second invitation.
Sex!
Hoping it would blot out the weirdness he was feeling, he scooted closer to Aidan, who put a warm hand around the back of his neck. Pete thought he meant to kiss him, but Aidan brushed his lips over his earlobe instead, whispering, “So fucking adorable,” and then kissed his way down Pete’s throat while he gripped his thigh.

Pete inhaled shakily, breathing in Aidan’s spicy scent, savoring the warmth of Aidan’s mouth as it moved along his skin. He cupped Aidan’s head with his hand, letting his fingers sink into his long hair. That he was playing with Aidan Emery’s hair at all, after years of fantasizing about it, was incredible. He gave it an experimental tug and was rewarded by the pleased sound Aidan made in the back of his throat.

“Let’s get horizontal. But first, take this off.” Aidan pushed Pete’s T-shirt up and over his head. “Oh,” he said, green eyes scanning his chest, “you’re so pretty.”

Pretty
? Pete considered that even worse than being called adorable, but
fuck
—Aidan could call him anything he wanted as long as he kept rubbing his thumbs over Pete’s nipples like that.

“I gotta lie down for this,” Pete breathed, feeling dizzy, and Aidan just smirked, the sexy bastard.

As Pete lowered his back to the floor, Aidan followed, lying on top of him but bracing himself with his elbows so their lower bodies melded together and—
oh, hello
. Aidan wore tight pants that made no secret of the fact he was well endowed, but his huge cock rubbing up against Pete’s own was—
God
. Pete grabbed Aidan’s ass with both hands and pulled him closer without even thinking about it.

“I like your hands on me.” Aidan’s mouth formed a sexy pout as he moved his hips in a slow grind, but when he and Pete made simultaneous “mmmmm” sounds, Aidan’s pout morphed into a grin. “We hummed in stereo!”

Pete laughed. “We make beautiful music together, schweetheart,” he drawled in his best Bogart imitation. Maybe it was the pot helping him relax and float along in the moment, or the fact that his body was alive with all kinds of pleasurable sensations, but he wasn’t intimidated anymore.

“We really do.” Aidan leaned down to rub their noses together. Pete stifled another laugh. “What?” He pulled back, pretending to be offended. “You don’t like my Eskimo kisses?”

“They’re great. There’s only one problem.”

“What?”

Pete could stare up into those green eyes forever. “You have too many clothes on.”

“Oh. Now that
is
a problem.”

Aidan rolled off him and sat up to unbutton his shirt.

“That’s a great shirt,” Pete said as he watched, and then winced.
How is that relevant, dumbass?

But Aidan looked pleased as he removed it. “Thanks. It’s one of my favorites.” He smiled over at Pete, who was still lying flat on the floor. “Well?”

“What?”

“Aren’t you going to help me take my clothes off?”

“Oh. My bad.” Pete sat up and went for Aidan’s silver belt. But when Aidan scooted forward and straddled Pete, and his…
assets
were right there, Pete’s fingers got stupid.

Aidan took Pete’s fumbling hands away, placing one of them squarely on the generous bulge in his pants while he made short work of his belt. As the belt fell to the rug with a soft clank, Pete came out of his shock at finding his hand on Aidan’s crotch and gave a tentative stroke up and down. His cock felt…
big.
Massive. Huge. Ginor
—

“Nice,” Aidan purred, interrupting Pete’s inner babbling by opening his legs even more and thrusting up into Pete’s hand.

“God, you’re—” Pete lost the words, knocked breathless by Aidan’s wanton offering of himself. He tried again. “You… unh.” Giving up on speech, he gripped and stroked Aidan’s dick through his trousers with more intent.

“So good.” It was a sultry murmur. Aidan popped the button on his pants. “Hold on,” he said, moving Pete’s hand away so he could lower his zipper, then guiding it back.

“Ah,
fuck
,” Pete whispered when his hand collided, not with underwear as he had expected, but with warm, velvety skin. He closed his hand around Aidan’s large, hard, and very naked cock, reeling at the realization that Aidan had gone commando tonight. That was so fucking
hot
. “I wanna….” He slid his fingers down Aidan’s cock. “I wanna kiss you.”

Aidan hooked his arm around Pete’s neck and hauled him in, all but smashing their lips together in a kiss. It wasn’t very coordinated—their tongues seemed to be doing battle and their teeth knocked together—but Pete didn’t care. He wanted to crawl inside Aidan’s fucking beautiful mouth and stay there.

Aidan suddenly moaned and pulled his lips away to gasp, “Jesus—easy, baby. You’re going to make me come.”

Pete realized his hand was still wrapped around Aidan’s dick, and it seemed to have taken on a life of its own, moving rapidly up and down the shaft, all but pumping it while his thumb smeared the drops at the slit around and around the head. He slowed his stroking to a less frenetic pace, but Aidan’s cock felt amazing in his hand, big and hard, with such soft skin enclosing it.

“Sorry. I—mmph.” The rest of his sentence was cut off by Aidan covering his mouth with his.

They explored each other with their tongues, and everything disappeared for Pete, everything except for Aidan’s lips, and his tongue, and Pete’s hand on Aidan’s cock.

Eventually, Aidan pulled away. “Let’s get naked.” He began to take off his trousers.

Pete rid himself of his shorts and underwear as fast as he could and looked up to find a naked Aidan leaning back on his elbows, bare legs stretched out, cock flushed and hard against his stomach. Pete’s gaze travelled up his body to his face, taking in the sight of him: lips swollen from their kisses, blond hair hanging over his eyes. He felt like he’d stumbled into a porn movie.

Aidan did nothing to dispel that feeling when he licked his lips and whispered, “Come here and lie on top of me, baby.” But then he added, “Me want Pete blanket,” in a Cookie Monster voice, and Pete laughed.

He scrambled to obey, crawling in between Aidan’s thighs and putting his hands on his shoulders. Aidan hooked his legs around Pete’s and lowered them both to the floor with Pete on top of him, murmuring in Pete’s ear as he did so, “Your body feels so good. So sweet.”

“I—uh. I wouldn’t call your body sweet,” Pete said, almost overwhelmed by the feeling of Aidan’s skin all over his as they moved slowly against each other.

“No?”

“No. I’d call it, um, Greek god-like.” Pete felt Aidan’s chuckle ripple against his torso. “It’s true,” he muttered before nipping at one of Aidan’s gorgeous shoulders.

“Aw, you flatter me.” Aidan dropped a kiss on the top of Pete’s head, rolled them onto their sides, and sat up. “Don’t go away,” he said, smiling into Pete’s eyes.