Giving the cat a good ear scratching, I craned my head around. The place probably cost more than I’d made in my entire lifetime. As he set our salads in the fridge, and cracked a can of cat food, I toe’d my sneakers off and wandered toward the living room. A plush set of leather sofas and a chair rested on a colorful Persian rug. The entertainment system was all curved flat screen television and Bose speakers.
“Do you like video games?” He inquired from behind me. “I bought a PS5 on a whim. Only used it once or twice.”
I cocked a brow at him. “You want to get whooped again?”
He chuckled, looking delighted. “Despite appearances, you’ll find little things that might convince you this is a bachelor pad more than the refined condo of wildly successful physician.”
Before I could respond, he pecked me on the cheek and slid his fingers down my bare arm, the whisper-thin touch making me shiver. He took me by the wrist and gently urged me to follow. My heart started pounding again, but this time the jumping-jacks were all excitement. I shuffled my feet clumsily across the waxed hardwood and into what I knew was his bedroom. His idea of a bed was a king-sized mattress in the center of the room set upon a high frame and draped with black silk. It almost looked like something out of a BDSM flick.
“What? No m-mirrors?” I croaked, my throat suddenly dry. I didn’t think I had the guts to watch myself being fellatiated in a ceiling mirror.
He simply laughed. “There is always room for improvement.”
He let go of my hand and moved to a walk-in closet. Through the crack in the door, I could see him undressing, flashes of tanned skin stirring the primal part of me. Guess I would be able to get it up after all. I glanced at the bed.Are we really doing this?I traced the angles and lines of the architecture in order to soothe myself.
“I need you to get undressed, down to your underwear,” he said from the closet.
Swallowing a lump, I fingered the collar of my sweater. My stomach started doing flips again and the conflicting message of nervousness and sexual desire was taking me on a roller coaster ride.
“I’m being a good boy, I promise,” he said, coming up behind me. He had changed into a rock-band T-shirt and a pair of jogging pants. “I keep telling you to trust me, but tonight I’m going to show you why you can.”
I bit my lip, wanting to make a quip about how it was impossible for him to be good, but I was too caught up in the choice presented to me. If I asked, he would take me home right now.Isn’t that reason enough to trust him? Don't chicken out now!
I gathered my courage and pulled my sweater and T-shirt off, wishing I weren’t so skinny. It was hard to build muscle when you couldn’t afford gym membership and protein powder. He disappeared again and I managed to slide my jeans down my legs. I was thankful I’d put on a pair of my best briefs. Perhaps, subconsciously, I was hoping things would head in this direction.
“Lay on the bed, face down. I’ll be right there,” he said from the bathroom, the sound of rushing water cutting through his words.
I did as asked, the silk sheets cool and soft. I closed my eyes, doing my best to clear my mind. I’d get in my own way if I let myself think about things. I focused on the fabric under my body, the comfortable air against my back, the sound of my own heartbeat in my ears. Mostly I thought about what he was doingin the bathroom. Was he brushing his teeth in preparation for a make-out session?
His voice was so much closer. “Can you move to the edge a bit more?”
I obeyed, my limbs out of sync with the rest of my body. I was freaking out and hated it. Why couldn’t I respond like a normal guy to someone that wanted to have sex with me?
“I need you to relax. No thinking, just feel.” His tone was a rich purr, like a hunter about to seize its prey. “I said my intentions are pure and I mean it. But I won’t deny that I’m going to enjoy this.”
The sound of a cap popping snapped through the air and the scent of something sweet and spicy filled my nose. For the briefest instant, I thought it was lube—I gasped as warm, wet hands were laid on my back. He spread oil all over my skin then went to work on my shoulders. The little moan of need that escaped my lips surprised me. I should have known a massage was in my future considering his line of work. I almost laughed at my stupidity.
He said on a smile, “You thought I was going to fuck you, didn’t you?”
The erotic words on his lips almost had me begging for it. It was embarrassing that I’d never had a man inside me. My nerves didn’t allow it.God, what if Gabriel is the first?My response was nothing more than a rush of breath.
“It’s okay. I will if you want me to. But I won’t until you ask. Tonight is about helping you relax and getting rid of some of that stress that’s been building.” His warmed hands worked from my shoulders to my neck, skilled fingers finding knots and loosening them. “There is a certain intimacy to massage, especially between lovers, and it has nothing to do with nakedness. It’s all about learning key points, those little spots deep under our skin that feels so good when they’re hit.”
Right on cue, his thumb dug in just under my shoulder blade. It made me moan, not in pain, but sweet relief. A wave of tingles washed through me, and my brain released all the feel-good endorphins I needed.
“Looks like I found one,” he said, amused. “They’re everywhere. Some have more than others. Finding them is half the fun. Exploiting them is my favorite.”
As he ran his knuckles down along the sides of my spine, I managed, “Is this how you drive all your boyfriends crazy?”
He stopped for a long moment as if collecting his thoughts. Slowly, he moved up. “Unfortunately, I haven’t had the opportunity to do this very often. Most of my relationships are short lived.” A heavy breath brushed across my oil-slickened skin. “I hope that changes with you.”
I hid my smile in the sheets. His confession did something I wasn’t familiar with. All I knew was that I craved it. I concentrated on his touch and the strength in his hands as they moved all over my back, working out years-worth of knots. The oil tingled and warmed my skin, penetrating deep. I was so blissed out that I didn’t care when he shucked my briefs down my butt.
“Can’t forget these muscles,” he purred. But he was entirely professional, massaging the globes expertly. “Feeling good?”
“Fuck,” I rasped. My response seemed to only amuse him further.
“Looks like I’m doing my job then.”
