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Davis
“You sure you’re okay to drive?”
Merrick glances at me, a lazy smile instantly framing his face. “Probably not.” He bumps his shoulder against mine. “I had fun tonight. You?” I take the keys he offers, pocketing them as we move down the block to where his car is parked.
Tonight was fun…and in a strange way, liberating too. Sitting around the table with all of Merrick’s friends—eating and drinking and carrying on—was something I’ve never done before. Sure, I’ve eaten out with Chantal many times, but we never shared an appetizer or drank numerous bottles of wine or talked over one another like Merrick and his friends do. Our dinners out were nothing more than an excuse not to cook. We would usually talk about work, her more so than I, sometimes in that almost desperate way you do when you can’t really find anything to talk about, but you feel obligated to do so. We ate out a handful of times with her parents, but never in a local fish house as we did tonight….and never with as much fanfare or laughter.
Gunner was in rare form, continuing his less than appropriate conversation while still flirting with me any chance he could. I sat between him and Merrick, across from Aiden and Chloe and a very hostile Jack, who contributed very little to the conversation. Halfway through our meal, Merrick took my hand under the table, gave me a reassuring wink, and outwardly acted like nothing had changed.
After dinner, we headed downtown to a local bar for more drinks, gathering around the fire pit on the back patio with large mugs of beer. There was more laughter and storytelling, more antagonistic looks between Jack and Gunner, and still more hand-holding. I suppose I should have said no, or at the very least been a little covert about it all. Merrick’s friends didn’t seem to mind, though. In fact, at one point Chloe leaned close and thanked me for making Merrick so happy.
I don’t know if I fully believe that, but I do know he makesmehappy. Being with him makes me feel good, regardless of where we are or what we’re doing. I like hanging out with his friends. I like being a part of a group and never once feeling like I’m the odd man out. I like doing something as normal as hanging out at a bar, and for once not feeling guilty about how much booze I drink.
I cut myself off after one drink though, and as such I’m now the designated driver who is climbing behind the wheel of his fancy new car. “Yeah, it was a lot of fun.”
Merrick fastens his seatbelt, his hand falling across my leg as I pull out of the parking lot and head for home. The jazz music he prefers to listen to is playing softly in the background and Merrick hums along, slightly off-key. I attempt to stay focused on the road, even though his fingers move slightly higher up my leg. His proximity and touch is damn distracting. Very distracting.
“Spend the night me,” he murmurs, head rolling to the side to peer at me. I risk a quick glance his direction and wonder silently how buzzed he really is. This loose and flirty Merrick isn’t exactly someone I can say no to.
Who the hell are you kidding? You can’t say no to him….ever.
There’s a thick layer of truth in that statement which I refuse to apologize for. I am not going to feel guilty about my attraction to him. Or at least that’s what I tell myself. I’m not exactly skywriting it to the masses, so it’s fair to say that my bravery has its own set of boundaries.
“Let me make you feel good.”
I clench my teeth to hold back a moan, smacking my hand down on his when he attempts to fondle me through my pants. “Behave yourself.”
He snickers and leans over the center console toward me. “Why would I want to do that?” He’s close enough that I can feel his breath against my skin, smell the faint hint of his cologne and the pricey ale he consumed. An intoxicating mix, I must admit. “I want to get lost in you.”
Well….damn. I bet he has no idea that I’ve been losttohim for months now. Getting lostinhim would only be a bonus. Still, my heart is beating erratically at the implication of his statement. What does that mean exactly? He knows I’ve never been with a man before him. And even though I have fully enjoyed the physical part of our relationship, I have no idea if I’m comfortable taking it further than we’ve already gone.
Even in his slightly inebriated state, he can sense my uneasiness. Sitting back in his seat, he states, “No expectations. I just want to hold you. Be with you.”
It’s terrifying how desperately I want that too. If life was fair, I’d sleep next to him every night. If life wasn’t complicated, I’d ignore my fears and tumble headlong into every aspect of lovemaking with him. If life wasn’t filled with family obligations and social boundaries, I’d shout from the rooftops that he’s mine.
But life isn’t fair. And it is complicated. Very complicated. There’s more than just he and I in all this. There’s his family and mine. His friends. And the little added issue that I’m still married and for all intents and purposes I still live with my wife. Until I can begin to sever those ties, any hopes I might have for me and Merrick must remain on the back burner.
Pulling the car into the garage, I kill the engine and push the button on the remote to close the garage door. Merrick shoves the passenger door open and gets to his feet, slamming it shut and looking across the car at me. He doesn’t say a word, letting his silence and previous statements speak for him. Even tipsy, he still won’t push.
“I’ll come in for a little while.”
Disappointment flickers across his face, but he’s quick to school his expression and offer me a nod. “Sure. Of course.”
We don’t speak again until we’re standing in the kitchen. Merrick fills two glasses with ice and water, handing one to me across the counter. He eyes me while he gulps down big swallows, and I wish I knew what he was thinking. His quietness is unnerving. And it gives me the perfect pause to begin to second guess every aspect of our relationship.
I take a few sips, then stow my glass in the sink and turn to face him. “I should probably go.”
Long beats of silence and then he nods once. “Okay.” His brow arches. “You sure that’s what you want?”
The kisses earlier today, followed by a long evening of flirty looks and covert touching, have done nothing but keep me on edge. I’m half pissed off—at him, at the circumstances. I’ve got Gunner’s words still lingering in my head, and now Merrick is going to play head games with me. I’m beginning to believe I have no clue which way is up.
Anger washes over me and without being fully aware of myself I move up against him, shoving his back against the counter with my body. “You know it’s not what I want.”
“Then what do you want, Davis?”
What I want shouldn’t even be a priority, but something about this man makes everything else in my life disappear complete. If I’m being honest with myself, I know exactly what I want; what I have wanted since I first looked at him standing on the other side of my fence. I want something—someone—to call my own. I want a life, for crying out loud, and not just this fucking sham I’ve been living for the past six years. I want to smile without feeling guilty, laugh because it feels good. I don’t want to second guess myself all the damn time or do things because it’s what’s expected. I wantthis….this man, this night, and all the ones to follow.
He doesn’t seem surprised when my mouth slams down on his. In fact, he has the nerve to smile when we briefly come up for air, the cocky bastard. His body wraps fully around mine; arms and legs locking us tightly together. His rigid cock is pressed against my hip, leaving no doubt in my mind what it is he wants. His kiss leaves no doubt that he intends to make me feel good, as promised. His ever-wandering hands further drive home that point.
