Marked Chapter 5 - One Way or Another

EPOV

I yanked harder on the drawer, muttering to myself as I leaned down and peered in, trying to figure out what the hell was keeping it from opening all the way. Seeing the corner of the box that was catching, I reached in and pressed it down, finally managing to get the damn drawer open. It just so happened that the offending little box was the very one I was searching for, so I pulled it out with a shit-eating grin.

It was a non-descript cardboard box, and I opened the top, pulling out a metal tin from inside. This one was far larger than it needed to be, as popping the top open revealed only a small collection of novelty tongue rings arranged on a backer board like earrings. I snickered as I muttered the messages aloud to myself.

“Sex Tool.” Well, it certainly fucking is, but that’s a little too…generic.

“Suck My Dick.” Nice as that damn thought is, I was kinda going for the other way around.

“Cum Here.” Mmm…now, that’s closer.

“Let’s Fuck.” I’m not trying to be that obvious…

“Cream Filled.” Ugh. That one made even me grimace.

“I Swallow.” True, but still not quite it…

And there…the very last one in the box – naturally – was the absolutely perfect message.

“Cock Tease.”

I laughed as I pulled it from the box and unscrewed the ball cap. Leaning toward the mirror, I took out the black barbell I almost always wore, putting it away in the box before replacing it with the more…suggestive one. I smirked at myself in the mirror, opening my mouth and sticking out my tongue. Jesus, you really can’t fucking miss that, can you?

I was getting ready to meet Jasper for lunch, and if he was looking at my mouth at all, he’d have a nice fucking message waiting for him.

Thank you, Emmett. It seemed his Christmas gift was finally being put to use – if not in the way he expected.

Well, maybe not. Or maybe I’d get fucking lucky and it would be exactly the way Emmett expected.

After Jasper had left from our photo shoot and I’d sat down to work on his pictures, I’d finally admitted – just to myself, of course - exactly what sort of effect he had on me, and I’d had to…relieve some tension. I came with a fucking vengeance and as I recovered, I started to really think about the few times I’d been with him – the looks we’d shared, the way his eyes seemed to follow me, the way his breathing sometimes sped – and I’d realized that maybe Mr. Impossible was actually more like…Mr. Really Fucking Likely.

Don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t getting ahead of myself, and I definitely still had some reservations. But the more I thought about all of it – including Jasper’s utter shock when I congratulated him on the baby – the more I realized that maybe, just maybe, I’d fucked up when I assumed he was straight. Looking at it objectively, I had so many reasons to think he might be interested – including the way he goddamn unzipped his pants and the way his eyes had darkened when I ran the back of my fingers up his neck – and only a couple of flimsy assumptions to suggest he wasn’t.

One of those assumptions had already turned out to be completely unfounded…so maybe the others were as well.

I didn’t quite understand why, if Jasper was gay and was interested, he hadn’t made any sort of move…but then again, wasn’t I gay? And very much interested? And had I made a move? Fuck no.

So what it came down to was that I didn’t know. I didn’t know his sexual orientation, and I didn’t know if he was attracted to me or not, but that was all going to change today. One way or another, I was ready to stop obsessing over him as a maybe-possible-impossibility.

I’d eventually decided that maybe he wasn’t sure where I stood, just as I’d been unsure of his…preference. I was planning to take away any doubt he might have, and I guess I was going to do it in a bit of a cruel way, if he was interested. If he wasn’t, well…he’d at least get a good chuckle.

Besides, fucking serves him right. Rub for luck…

At the photo shoot, Jasper had been wearing a rather suggestive belt buckle himself. It had three horseshoes with the words “Rub for Luck” written on the top one. I’d noticed the buckle during the shoot but hadn’t wanted to get caught staring at his crotch – for obvious reasons – so it wasn’t until he left and I was looking at the pictures that I’d discovered the hidden message.

Unfortunately, I’d ended up rubbing myself rather than him…and that buckle had been part of the reason. The rest had to do with that smoldering stare of his…those pouty lips…that playful smirk…but the trigger had been his irresistible scent. There was something so familiar, so tantalizing about his scent that sometimes my mouth quite literally watered when I was around him. The fact that I couldn’t place what it was had been slowly driving me mad for the past several weeks. It was only last night that it had suddenly hit me.

I was driving home from dinner with my friends on Thursday night. It was the third time I’d seen them all in a week and probably more than I’d seen any of them in months, aside from Kate, of course. I really had been a goddamn recluse. We’d laughed together for a few hours, and as I was making my way home, I was smiling, singing along under my breath as the radio played. “I’m not content to be with you in the daytime…”

Ever since the photo shoot with Jasper last Sunday, I’d been counting the days until I could call him again. I’d resolved to wait one week – that was my typical turnaround time when I even bothered to have a second meeting with the model to show them the pictures. I often didn’t, just choosing the pictures to use myself. Jasper, of course, was a special case.

I was tapping my fingers on the steering wheel, lifting my chin as I peered down the street to make sure it was safe to pull out. I was a much happier person in general now that I’d allowed myself to accept that Jasper might be interested in me. I tried to pretend that wasn’t the reason, but the Kinks playlist currently pouring through my speakers told me otherwise.

I once again found myself cataloging my list of…evidence, I guess, that Jasper was attracted to me. I was repeating it like a mantra, a reassurance that I wasn’t crazy, and I wasn’t obsessive, and this wasn’t one-sided.

There was the way he smiled sometimes when he watched me. There was the way he just watched me in general, his eyes following me and drifting down my body in a way that was intimate and familiar. That wicked little smile he gave me when I said I was going commando. The way he’d stared at me at the tattoo parlor, his eyes lingering on the torch tattoo below my waist.

Then there were the touches between us. The way his eyes darkened and his lips parted when I caressed his neck. The way he’d shivered and then turned around when I traced his tattoo, licking his lips in response to mine. And the way he brushed against me made me wonder sometimes if it was on purpose.

Beyond that, there were other, more ambiguous signs that – if I was interpreting them correctly – would leave little doubt as to what Jasper wanted. That damn belt buckle – but did he wear it every day, or had it been an invitation? The way he’d unzipped his pants, staring at me with an eyebrow raised in challenge – had he meant it? What would’ve happened if I’d walked over, replacing his hand on the zipper with mine as I kissed him? And then that half-heard comment when I’d asked him about children. Had he really said the day he had children was the day I could bear them?

I was still chanting my mantra when I pulled up at my house. I walked in, kicking off my shoes and hanging up my keys like always, in a good mood from my night out. It was pretty early, so I decided to relax a bit before I got to work on my project again. It was going well - I’d need to meet with my editor Zafrina again soon – but there always seemed to be more that could be done.

I’d finally made it to the grocery store earlier that day – it was amazing how long I could go without when I was being lazy – so I walked straight into the kitchen and put the kettle on for some tea. While it was heating, I went upstairs to change into some comfy pants, humming as I hung up the deep maroon button down I’d worn to dinner. Kate had told me I looked “delicious” – I’d just rolled my eyes as I hugged her and greeted everyone else. It made me smile to see how happy most of my friends were.

All of them were there with their significant others, with the exception of me, Kate, and Tyler. We all sat at one end of the table, and while we joined in the conversations with the rest of them, we also made a game of pointing out…prospects for each other. I was much better at picking out attractive women for Tyler than he was at finding men for me – or maybe he was just less picky than I was. Tyler seemed to be of the same mind as Billy – the bigger the guy, the better . Kate had a knack for finding both, but to be fair, she knew my type, and she was a photographer – she had an eye for beauty. I can honestly say, though, that despite the good looking men at the restaurant, there were none that compared to Jasper for me.

I really hoped he was interested. Otherwise, I was fucked – and not in the way I wanted to be.

I’d apparently been standing in my closet reminiscing for some time because I heard the kettle begin to whistle. I quickly stripped out of my jeans and put on my pajama pants, not bothering with underwear this time as I wasn’t planning on any company. I took the stairs two at a time and pulled the kettle off the stove before going to my pantry.

As soon as I opened the canister of Earl Grey tea, my mouth began watering and Jasper’s eyes were all I could see.

Fuck.

Well, I’d found the mystery ingredient. Why the hell does he smell like Earl Grey tea?

That scent – his scent - had been the catalyst for my finally giving in and taking care of myself to fantasies of him just after he left from the photo shoot. I’d caught a whiff of it on my white shirt he’d worn, and I just couldn’t resist anymore. I’d thought that would be the end of it, but when I went to bed after obsessing over printing the pictures, the fragrance surrounded me.

He’d been lying on my bed, and he seemed to linger all around me – on my pillow, my sheets, my comforter. I couldn’t escape him. Despite the fact that the sun had already risen on a gloomy Monday morning and I hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours, I’d lain there for awhile longer, just staring at my ceiling and trying to get him out of my head. Eventually, I’d given into yet another fantasy about him and then finally fallen asleep as the morning wore on.

I shook my head, biting the inside of my cheek as I made my tea. I carried my cup to the den, deep in thought, and sat down on the couch with my feet propped on the coffee table. The book I’d intended to read lay beside me, forgotten. I took my first sip, and suddenly my phone was in my hand.

Scrolling through the numbers, I came to the one I’d looked at several times a day since Sunday. The contact information said simply, “Jasper” – even with his number, I still didn’t know his last name, and asking had slipped my mind when he was here for his photo shoot with the way he was tormenting and tempting me.

I pressed the call button – fucking finally – and put the phone to my ear as I waited. On the third ring, he answered.

“Hello?”

He sounded distracted. I asked stupidly, “Hey…Jasper?”

“Yeah?”

Well, that wasn’t at all the reaction I’d hoped for. Fuck. He didn’t even know who I was.

“Edward?” His voice came over the line again, prompting me to smile.

“Yeah, it’s me.” I glanced at the clock on my mantle, realizing finally that it was after 9:00 – not at all late for me, but I didn’t know what sort of hours he kept. “Oh, sorry. I hope I didn’t…wake you…or anything.” Though I wouldn’t be opposed to catching you in bed…alone, of course. I smirked at the thought.

I heard him chuckle quietly before he shifted with the sound of rustling paper. “Nah. ‘S alright. I was just…” He trailed off, sighing. “Sketching.”

“Really?” My voice was a little higher than usual, betraying my interest. I’d had no idea he was artistic. “You sketch?”

“A little…not very well, but it relaxes me…” he answered. He sounded…off somehow. Bored, maybe? His voice dropped, and I barely caught when he added, “Most of the time, anyway.”

I frowned, wondering if maybe my phone call wasn’t welcome. I cleared my throat. “Hey, man, if I'm bothering you, I can umm...call back another time or something. I didn't realize how late it was. I just got in from dinner and ahh...” I took a sip of my tea and smirked. “…remembered to call you.”

I smiled when I heard the bit of panic in his voice. “No! No, it's okay, really...” He paused. “So....did the pictures come out okay?”

I shifted, turning sideways on the couch and stretching my legs out on the cushions in front of me. “Yeah, they did. They look great. They're actually, ahh...ready.” Thanks to my obsessing, they’d been ready since Monday. I hadn’t slept until they were all just how I wanted them. “So I was wondering if...you might want to get together to look at them soon? Maybe tomorrow?”

I didn’t like the way I was nearly holding my breath until Jasper spoke again.

“Tomorrow?” Another pause, with no way for me to know its meaning. “When were you thinking?”

Something in me relaxed, and I smiled as I realized that he wasn’t going to just flat out say “no.” “Well, I was sort of thinking maybe we could meet for lunch? And then umm...you could come back over here to look at them?” And with any luck, do something more. He didn’t answer, and as the silence stretched on, I heard my voice babbling to fill it. “There are a lot of them, or I'd just bring them to lunch. I mean, I still can, if you want.” I bit my lip to stop the words pouring out, rolling my eyes at myself.

He finally saved me from myself, talking just as I trailed off. “No...I can come over...” He let out a breath slowly, and I imagined his cheeks puffing out as his brow furrowed. I wondered what it meant. “Lunch is good, but...can we make it a late one? I'll need to re-arrange my schedule a bit…work and all.”

Oh, right. Work.

“Oh, right. Work.” I repeated my ridiculous thought, making a face at myself for forgetting that Friday was a workday for most people. Clearing my throat, I said, “Maybe two again?”

“Yeah, two'll work.”

What the fuck does that mean? My toes were tapping on the cushion with excess energy as I felt my brow furrow. I had no answer, so half a beat too late, I instead asked, “So what kind of food do you like? There are a lot of places not far from here.”

Jasper chuckled, and I heard a smirk in his voice when he answered. “Whatever you want is good. I'll try just about anything.”

He can’t possibly mean that how I think he does…can he? That little comment was quickly added to the Jasper-is-interested list of evidence. I smirked as I said, “There's a little Greek diner a couple of blocks from here. It's called the Grapevine...do you know it? They have fantastic souvlaki.”

“Can't say I do...never tried Greek before...but sure, if you're up for it, we can do that.”

I liked the sound of Jasper being up for whatever I was up for. And there was definitely something that was beginning to come up the longer I listened to his voice and entertained the thought of seeing him again. I tried my best to keep those thoughts at bay as I was giving him directions, but I could tell that this was going to be yet another night of self-love. He remained silent the whole time I was speaking, so when I finished, I was at a loss. “So umm…well…” Genius.

I heard him clear his throat, so I knew he was still there, but he didn’t say anything. With a sigh, I finally spoke once more. “I guess I’ll see you then?” I glanced at the clock again, noticing I had seventeen hours to fill before I went to meet him.

His voice sounded a little wistful when he finally responded. “Yeah...see you tomorrow...”

I frowned slightly, really hoping this unusual mood of his meant what I thought it did. I hoped that he wanted to see me – and talk to me – just as much as I did him. “Alright. Well, umm...good night, Jasper.” Just saying his name, I smiled.

That smile widened when I heard his quiet, “Good night, Edward.”

I pressed the button to hang up my phone and let it drop onto the couch beside me. Biting my bottom lip, I looked yet again at the clock, realizing it was really fucking early to go to bed. I drained my cup of tea and headed that way anyway, dropping off my cup in the sink on my way to pick up my laptop. I had a feeling it was going to be a long night…and it was.

I ran my fingers through my hair one more time, looking in the mirror as I smirked at myself. All told, I’d taken care of myself three times over several hours last night before I’d finally passed the fuck out, falling into a dreamless sleep only to be woken by my alarm clock at noon.

My hair was a mess – standing up every which way – but I knew it worked for me. I shrugged and grinned, smoothing my black t-shirt over my abdomen as I turned sideways to make sure it looked good. It did, hitting just at the top of my low-slung jeans. I wasn’t dressing up, but I sure as fuck meant to make sure Jasper was left salivating the way I always was around him.

If he was into me, of course.

I scanned my appearance again, taking in the cuff watch on my left wrist, the tragus and lobe piercings in my left ear, shifting to the side to look at my only visible tattoo – the tribal piece nearly reaching to my right elbow. The sleeves of my shirt were just tight enough, emphasizing my biceps.

Fucking perfect.

It was hard for me to look better than this. “Hope that fucker likes what he sees,” I muttered to myself as I flipped off the bathroom light and went back into my bedroom to grab socks.

Downstairs, I wandered through the rooms, making sure there was plenty of beer and a bottle of wine chilling in the refrigerator. I peeked into the den, double checking that the pictures were spread out like I wanted them. I intended to leave it at that, but I couldn’t. Instead, I walked into the room and over to the sound system, looking at my docked iPod to find that it was still on the jazz playlist I’d set up.

I shook my head at myself as I walked back out into the hallway and sat down on the bench to put on my socks and boots. I was certainly going all out for a guy I wasn’t even sure wanted me.

But if he did…

My eyes fluttered closed, and I slumped back against the wall, imagining Jasper’s lips on mine, his hand wrapped around my dick. I let out a low moan. “Fuck.”

I opened my eyes again, mentally shaking myself as I forced the images away.

Soon, Mr. Possible.

The drive to the diner was short, and I found a parking spot just across the street. I got out, locking the door as I twirled my keys once around my finger before pocketing them. Maybe this is my lucky day.

The entire front of the building was covered with glass windows, and as I was crossing the street, I caught sight of Jasper standing inside. My lips curved into a smile as I realized he’d beaten me there – and I was early.

I stood still for a moment, right in the middle of the street, as I licked my bottom lip. I was aware of a car approaching as I forced my legs into motion again, but my eyes never wavered as I took in Jasper. I could just see the top of what looked to be dark blue jeans, an image of his ass in the jeans from the shoot flitting through my mind. His charcoal gray shirt was tucked in, and I smirked when I saw that he was once again wearing his tame black leather belt. Not looking for any rubbing today, Mr. Possible?

Too fucking bad.

His sleeves were rolled up, exposing those toned forearms I’d spent several hours appreciating less than a week ago, and – yet again – he was wearing a tie that made me just want to grab it and pull him close. I was trying not to smile, but one kept tugging at my lips, and I gave in, fixing that devilishly crooked smile in place that always seemed to help me get my way. I ran my fingers through my messy hair once more and opened the door.

The sound of the tinkling little bell drew his gaze, and our eyes met over the head of the tiny hostess he’d just finished speaking to. She disappeared as I walked to him, holding out my hand. We shook hands as we exchanged hellos, but before we got any further, she returned, holding two menus and two sets of silverware.

“This way,” she said simply, turning and expecting us to follow her. I dropped Jasper’s hand and arched an eyebrow at him in question.

He shrugged, smirking as he said, “I knew you’d be coming soon.”

Both my eyebrows rose at that as I smirked in return. Confident, isn’t he? I liked it. I motioned for him to go first, and he turned to follow the little hostess who was rapidly escaping. Luckily, the diner was small, and it wasn’t like she could really lose us. I hung back as he took the first few steps, leaving me plenty of space to see if these jeans showed off his assets as well as the others had.

Oh, hell yes.

No doubt about it. Jasper had a nice ass – it wasn’t just the pants, as this was the third pair I’d seen him in. And now I want to see him in none.

I smiled slowly, my tongue wetting my lips as I took a seat across from him and finally glanced around at where we’d been seated. We were at a small booth in the corner with the rest of the restaurant largely blocked from view thanks to the stands of lattice covered with plastic grapevines that served as decoration.

Fucking perfect.

We both opened our menus, though I really only did out of habit. I knew what I wanted. After a moment, I glanced over the top at Jasper, finding him looking at me as well. He cleared his throat and looked back down at his, a faint blush on his cheeks.

I closed my menu, dropping it beside my plate as I innocently said, “So how was work?”

He grimaced and shrugged, saying there wasn’t a lot going on and that he was really looking forward to having a new project just for something to do. He didn’t seem so interested in talking about it, and at the moment, I wasn’t really so interested in listening. I began to not-so-innocently play with my tongue ring as he spoke, bringing it between my lips. I had the pleasure of seeing his eyes focus on it for a moment before they widened. His sky blue eyes flashed to mine and then back down to the lovely little message I’d left for him. He swallowed hard, returning his eyes to the menu as he completely stopped speaking.

Well, what do you know…?

I grinned, slipping my tongue back into my mouth just as the waitress appeared. She placed a basket of breadsticks in the center of our table and began speaking far too quickly in an accented voice that was a little difficult to understand. She gave us each a glass of water before asking if we wanted anything else to drink. I was about to shake my head when Jasper’s gentle voice said, “Do you happen to have sweet tea?”

The smile that lit up his face when she said they did was beautiful – just a look of simple, innocent pleasure that made me smile in response. I told her water was fine for me, my eyes never leaving his face as I tried to memorize that expression.

As soon as she walked away, I said, “So what’s the deal with sweet tea?”

He shrugged but his smile remained as he spoke. “It’s my favorite, but it’s hard to find up here. Usually the closest I can get is unsweet with some sort of artificial sweetener…” He made a face before he continued, talking about how his mother – I loved the way he called her “Mama” – got him and his brother and sister hooked on her sweet tea when they were young. I made a mental note to figure out how to make sweet tea if we worked out by some chance.

I wanted to ask him more about his home, just to find out a little more about him, but the waitress returned then with the tea, her pad in hand as she asked if we’d decided what we wanted.

Yes, but he isn’t on the menu.

I shifted on my side of the booth, asking Jasper if he knew what he wanted. He smirked as he admitted that he hadn’t even looked.

“Can we have another minute?” I asked as I flashed her my crooked grin.

She gave a small giggle and blushed, and I half-expected her to fan herself with her order pad as she said, “Take all the time you need…I’ll be back soon.”

I felt her eyes lingering on me before she finally turned to walk away, but I looked back at Jasper, who sat watching me with an inscrutable look on his face.

Yeah, that guessing shit’s not so fun, is it?

The thing is, I really did know it was no fun, and I planned to clear up any uncertainty very soon. For the moment, though, I decided to help him with the menu, so I began pointing out some of my favorites, especially the souvlaki and the spanakopita.

“Do you like spinach?” I was asking when I noticed someone approaching from the corner of my eye.

I figured it was the waitress, so I was about to continue my explanation when a deep, excruciatingly familiar voice said, “Edward?”

Fuck…

The sound of that voice had once gotten me hard in an instant – not so much because of the voice itself but because of what the voice was attached to. Slowly, I turned just my eyes to confirm my suspicions. Yup.

Mr. Frenum Ladder himself.

“Oh. Hey, Mark,” I said lamely. I swallowed and reached out to shake his hand before introducing him to Jasper. They shook hands as well, and his eyes studied Jasper appraisingly before he glanced back and forth between the two of us. He seemed satisfied by the distance between us because he turned his attention to me, standing with his back turned ever-so-slightly to Jasper.

He looked fucking great as always. He’d cut his hair since the last time I saw him, and it suited him well, dark and just a couple of inches long. The brown t-shirt he was wearing showed off several of his tattoos including the one that had been my favorite – the kukri that began with the hilt just below his ear and curved forward toward the hollow of his throat. He’d gotten another new piercing – not that I was surprised – and a hoop now rested at the left corner of his bottom lip. He was in shape. He was sexy as hell.

And I was only…annoyed. He was being a rude prick to Jasper, and it pissed me the fuck off. He’d been telling me about a party they’d had the weekend before – we ran in the same crowd for a while, so we shared several friends – and he was mentioning that I should come out sometime. It had been too long since they’d all seen me.

When he got no response, he switched tactics, clearly digging when he said, “So where’s Alistair?” His eyes flickered so quickly to Jasper that I almost missed it.

I answered wryly, “England.” It was none of his fucking business.

“On business?” He asked, but he didn’t even give me time to correct his assumption that we were still together – though I didn’t think he believed that. He just continued on, reminding me of the many reasons we’d broken up in the end. He annoyed the shit out of me. “The last time I saw you guys, you were getting ready for that trip to Italy. Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah, we did. Hey, sorry, Mark, but we were sort of in the middle of something. Can you excuse us?”

He apologized, but I saw the annoyance in his eyes as he said his goodbyes and told Jasper it was nice to meet him. I rolled my eyes as he finally walked away. “Sorry about that,” I muttered.

“It’s alright.” Jasper shrugged.

I frowned. “He doesn’t really pick up on social cues. One of the more annoying things about him.” I muttered, adding under my breath, “One of many.”

Jasper nodded, but when he spoke again, it wasn’t about Mark. “So who’s Alistair? Friend of yours?”

Oh…look who’s digging now.

I’m such an ass. I couldn’t resist teasing him a bit more, my playful mood returning as soon as I felt that swelling of hope. “No, my boyfriend.”

Instantly, I regretted my decision to tease him when his face fell. Casually I added, “Ex, actually…” I was watching him closely, so I saw the smile that flashed across his face before he tried to hide it behind a sip of his tea.

The waitress really did return then, refilling the tea and asking if we were all set. I could tell from the way Jasper’s eyes widened that he still hadn’t look at the menu, so I ordered first. “Pork souvlaki for me, please.” I glanced up at her, giving her a small smile. “Thanks.”

She took the menu from me and turned back to Jasper, who smirked as he said, “I’ll take the same.”

He didn’t speak as she took his menu and walked away, so I raised both eyebrows at him and waited expectantly. He blushed lightly, and I smirked. “Well?”

Still nothing.

“Yes, I’m gay. Is that a problem?”

He was shaking his head before I even finished my question. “No, not at all. I just didn’t…”

I waited again, this time leaning back against the back of my booth as I brought my tongue ring between my lips and played with it idly. His eyes followed the motion, the blue darkening as his lips parted slightly. When I closed my mouth, the metal disappearing inside, his eyes found mine.

“I am, too,” he said simply, his voice quiet but confident.

I smiled broadly, relief flooding through me as what I’d come to strongly suspect was confirmed, and we sat watching each other. A matching smile spread on his lips, and we seemed to come to some sort of silent understanding before he finally cleared his throat and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “So…Italy? You like to travel?”

Travel was a definite passion of mine, and I mimicked his position, my elbows finding the edge of the table as I began to speak animatedly. I skimmed over most of the bits of that trip involving Alistair as I focused instead on the things I’d seen and the places I’d visited. When I got to the short weekend trip we’d taken into Paris to visit the Louvre, I mentioned the collection of Anselm Kiefer drawings that had captured my attention.

Jasper’s face lit up at that, and I smiled as I asked him about it, remembering his mention of sketching the night before. I sat back, listening to him talk about his love for art – drawing in particular – and how he kept meaning to get out to more of the museums around Boston, but he was always so busy with work and his friends and family. I didn’t like the thought of him being too busy, but I held onto his love of art as our food arrived.

He took his first bite and moaned quietly, glancing at me as he nodded his head.

“Fucking great, isn’t it?” I tried to ignore the seductive sounds he sometimes made as he ate, but I have to admit that I might’ve given a little back myself.

Despite our taunting of one another, we talked throughout our lunch, never an awkward pause between us, and it was astonishing how huge a change it was from our previous two meetings – and that excruciating phone call the night before. As we were finishing up and the waitress brought our check, I realized I hadn’t mentioned the session or the photographs – my entire cover for this outing with Jasper – once.

Jasper’s hand reached out, snatching up the check before I had a chance to grab it. I frowned at him, and he gave me his irresistible grin, shrugging as he handed it immediately back to the waitress along with his credit card.

How the fuck did I miss him getting that out?

“You fed me last time,” he said, and I had to fight the slew of ridiculous middle school comments that threatened to emerge at the thought of feeding and Jasper.

Seeing my opportunity, I let his paying for lunch go, instead saying, “Hey, you feel like going to a museum and grabbing some dinner with me tomorrow? My treat, though.”

He gave me a cocky smirk, his eyes glinting as he leaned forward, resting both his elbows on the table. “Why, Dr. Masen…are you asking me out on a date?”

Fuck me. I like the sound of that.

“Why, I do believe I am.” I gave him a smirk of my own. Where the fuck did that god awful pseudo Southern accent come from?

Jasper laughed, throwing his head back. When he looked at me again, his eyes were twinkling. “Umm…yeah, that’s umm…that’s some accent you’ve got there.” He snickered.

I just smiled at him and shrugged. “Yours is pretty fucking sexy, so I figured I’d try it on.”

He blushed, but his eyes never left mine. “I’d stick with your own accent. It’s pretty fucking sexy, too.” I felt my smile broaden.

I leaned back against the booth, crossing my arms in front of my chest. “Don’t think you’re going to get away with not answering.” I raised one eyebrow, but my voice was softer, huskier when I spoke again, and my chest felt tight as I worried that maybe he was stalling because he was trying to figure out how to turn me down. I didn’t think so, but…I took a deep breath. “Will you go out with me tomorrow?”

His smirk faded away into a true smile that was almost shy as he said, “Sounds great to me.”

Definitely my goddamn lucky day.

I was still riding the high from finding out Jasper did, indeed, share my preference for men, so the fact that he wanted to go on a date with me had me soaring. We sat there in the booth, smiling at each other like idiots until the waitress returned. Jasper blinked, finally looking away from me as he glanced down to sign his receipt. He dropped the pen back onto the paper and looked up again, saying, “So…”

“Oh,” I said brilliantly. “So do you want to just follow me back to my place?”

Jasper’s face brightened, and I realized he’d been so absorbed in our conversation that he, too, had forgotten the reason for our meeting. “Perfect,” was all he said.

JPOV

Well that went better than expected... My fingers were drumming on the steering wheel as we were waiting for the light to turn green. My eyes were fixed on the mop of unruly copper-colored hair in the car in front of me. I shifted slightly in my seat, frowning at the mixture of agitation and excitement that was running rampant in my body.

Lunch had brought many answers to the questions that had been running through my head these past few weeks. The two main ones - 'Is he gay?' and 'If he is, is he into me?' - were finally answered, I thought. The sense of relief and excitement this had brought about had been more than I had expected to feel.

It also appeared that he was single. One thing I did not do - in spite of what people might think, given how at times I would have Mike play the boyfriend card - was get involved with anyone who was already taken. Or cheat, if I was in a steady relationship.

The stab of jealousy I had felt when that Mark guy talked to Edward had annoyed me. It seemed obvious to me that the two of them had some sort of history from the way Edward froze when he first heard his voice and then the way Mark turned his back toward me, effectively dismissing me. I found that I didn't care for it one bit. When Mark brought up the mention of someone named Alistair, and I heard Edward's reaction to it...

I'd had to struggle to maintain my composure. I couldn't quite figure out why it was as upsetting to me as it was, so I did my best to squelch those thoughts as Mark and Edward talked.

I couldn't stop myself from asking about Alistair though, and his initial comment about it being his boyfriend had me feeling as though I'd been punched in the gut. When he said that it was in fact his ex-boyfriend, I had to fight hard not to let out a 'whoop', and ended up trying to hide my smile by drinking some tea.

Just thinking about it as I was following behind Edward to his house had me grinning. I couldn't help but wonder if he was serious about having us go over those pictures or not. Though given how focused he had been - all things considered, anyway - during the shoot, I had a feeling the answer to that question was a definite 'yes'. If that was what it took to get me back into his house, I was all for it - but I hoped we could get that shit over with quickly and maybe move on to other things .

Edward pulled up to the curb, cutting the engine of his car. When I had first seen him go to the Mustang, I very nearly drooled. I recognized that it was an old model - probably mid-sixties - and it looked to either be in mint condition, or it had been excellently restored. Either way, the car was fucking hot, and it suited Edward to a T, as far as I could tell.

I pulled up right behind him, grinning when I saw he had gotten out of his car and was leaning against the trunk, waiting for me. He pushed off as I got out of my own vehicle. I made sure to grab everything I needed, although I was sorely tempted to leave the fucking phone in the car this time, remembering how it had interrupted the night we'd met. I couldn't, in good conscience, do so though.

After locking the car, I walked up to him with a grin. He nodded and started walking across the street to his house. We were walking side by side, falling easily into step with each other. I kept glancing at him, and he did the same, grinning as we got caught.

Once we got inside, he hung his key on the hook and sat down on the bench by the door, pulling his shoes off and putting them under it. As he got up, he ran his fingers through his hair, appearing nervous all of a sudden. "So... can I get you anything? A beer?"

I nodded. "Sure, sounds good to me."

Sitting down on the bench he had just vacated, I pulled my own shoes off, setting them to the side. I blushed a little as I realized that I had kept my boots on the last time I was here, and was mentally kicking myself for being so rude when it was fairly obvious a practice of his to leave the shoes in the hallway.

Edward, who had gone to the kitchen, came walking back with a bottle of beer in each hand. When he saw me sitting on the bench in my sock-feet, he gave me a crooked smile, gesturing towards the den. "In here."

Taking a deep breath, I nodded and rubbed my thighs nervously before getting up and following him into the den. A jazz tune I didn't recognize was playing in the background, and I started to make some smart ass comment about setting the mood, but the words faded on my lips as I walked up to the couch where Edward had taken a seat and saw the spread of pictures laid out before him.

Oh. My. Fucking. God. You've got to be kidding me!

I gaped at Edward as I took a seat next to him, turning slightly to face him. "Just how many pictures did you end up taking on Sunday?"

He grinned sheepishly at me as he said, "Two hundred and seventy-three." He cleared his throat, scratching the back of his neck, and I grinned as I noticed he was blushing.

I shook my head, chuckling softly as I watched him carefully. "Do you always take that many pictures of your subjects?"

His blush deepened a little as his brow furrowed. "Ahh...no. Not usually."

Shifting slightly, I leaned forward to pick up three of them. The ones I'd picked up happened to be taken here in the den. It was kind of strange to look at myself like this. I was sitting in the leather wingback chair, with my arms raised over my head and my head tilted slightly to the side as I looked at the camera.

I looked at each one in turn and frowned. They all looked the same to me at first glance. When I turned to look at Edward, he was watching me intently. "Seriously, two hundred and seventy-three?" I asked with a raised brow.

He nodded but didn't say anything. Glancing at the pictures again, I couldn't quite understand why he would have taken so many, when there were so many that were alike. "I don't see it. These are all of me in the same position in that chair." I tilted my head to the chair in question as I turned my eyes to his.

He took a pull from his bottle before giving me a crooked grin. Putting the bottle down on the side table, he scooted a little closer to me, leaning in and using his pinky finger to indicate the minor differences between them. Now that he pointed them out, I could see that in one, my eyes were open wider, whereas in another I had shifted a little further to the left of the chair, and in the third, my right arm was bent a little more.

So much for getting this shit over with quickly. Fucking hell. I grabbed my own bottle and took a long pull from it after handing him the pictures. He carefully put them back from where I'd taken them, as we had made no choice on those yet. He was leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he scanned the pictures for something. The soft, sultry sounds of a saxophone drifted from the speakers as I felt myself losing focus.

I didn't pay attention to where he was looking, content to just watch him for a while, now that I could finally do so openly. It was sort of unnerving to have so many images of myself staring up at me anyway, so the distraction was more than welcome. He smiled suddenly as he picked up another of me taken here in the den - the one of me with my back to him and my head turned so I was looking over my shoulder at him.

He paused a moment, then grabbed the two of me lying on my stomach on his bed, again showing off the fractal on my back. He sat back and held them out for me to see. I leaned forward a little, glancing at the pictures before turning to him with a questioning look.

He cleared his throat lightly, his brow furrowing a bit as he said quietly, "Both of those show your fractal off really well, but I wasn't sure which one you'd want me to use - or if you didn't want me to use either. They're both more...intimate...than most others I've taken. Not so much because of the skin shown, or even the fact you're lying in bed," he pointed to my face and body language in each as he spoke, "but they're just..."

His voice trailed off as if he couldn't quite bring himself to say the words. I studied both pictures carefully. My body language in the den was more teasing, sultry even. The one of me on the bed…I looked as if I belonged there, comfortable and, in a way, inviting. The thought of belonging in his bed sent a shock through me, and I shot a quick glance at him to see his eyes intent on my face. I took a swig of my beer and quickly turned my attention back to the pictures as I felt a slight blush warm my cheeks.

I thought back to the picture he had shown me of the other guy, Little Caesar, and I realized that for all that he had been lying in a bed, too, he had not looked at home. He had looked like a model - albeit a good model, as his pictures conveyed a certain intimacy, too, but it seemed affected somehow. Not genuine. Looking down at my picture, I could almost feel there was more there. I swallowed, considering for a moment what that might mean.

Frowning, I had to work to be able to speak at all, my throat feeling very dry in that moment. Finding that I couldn't, I took my beer and polished it off. Fucking hell...

It wasn't so much that I minded the pictures in and of themselves. I'd agreed to let him take them and use them for his book, so I was fine with that. But there was something more there, just being hinted at beneath the surface of it all, and it made me both nervous and excited.

I jutted out my jaw as I exhaled, blowing my bangs away from my forehead. Turning to face him again, I raised my eyes to his. "Which one would you use?"

He clenched his jaw a few times, his eyes narrowing the tiniest bit as he scanned my face. I had no idea what was going through his mind, but he seemed to struggle with something. Finally, he cleared his throat and answered, his voice low and a little strained. "If I had to, both."

'If I had to?' What the fuck does that mean? I quirked a brow at him, silently asking him to explain. He ran his fingers through his hair with a sigh before continuing. "If you're okay with my using them, for all the world to see," - he seemed to stress that part - "then both. If you're not okay with them, I will not use them. We can always take more, if you'd prefer." He looked almost hopeful as he said that.

I snorted softly at the thought of more pictures. Two hundred and seventy-three pictures taken, and he wants more? When he didn't say anything else, I searched his eyes. "You're serious?"

He nodded. "I won't use any of these unless you're happy with them, Jasper. I know this is my work, but it's your body." He flexed his jaw again as if wanting to say more, but he stayed silent.
I didn't know what to say to that; all I managed to get out was a soft, "Thank you."

He nodded again and grabbed his beer, finishing it. After asking me if I wanted another, he got up, took my empty bottle, and disappeared to the kitchen. While he was gone, I sat listening to the music and staring at the pictures in front of me - not just the ones he had just shown me, but all of them. Some of them were intense, jumping out at you, others were seductive - God, I really did give him a hard time that day, didn't I? - and others still just had a relaxed feel to them.

In all of them, though, the feeling that came across to me was that I looked to be at home, comfortable. I tried to brush that off as being because Edward was a professional and a good host - and in truth, he very much had been both - but a small part of me wondered if it was something else. Something I couldn't even admit to myself, because it was too soon, too... strong, if it was because of Edward himself.

I felt something bump into my upper arm and looked up to see Edward standing next to me, tapping a bottle of beer against me to get my attention. His eyes were on me; apparently he'd been standing there watching me, and I hadn't even noticed. Once I accepted the beer from him and had taken a long drink, he smiled and went to stand behind the sofa, leaning over my shoulder to see what I was looking at.

Normally, this would have annoyed me had it been anyone else, but with Edward it was somehow familiar, even intimate. I could feel his breath wash over my neck, and it sent shivers down my spine. All I'd have to do was to turn my head, and I'd be able to kiss him. Part of me - hell, all of me - wanted to, and I likely would have, but I wanted this shit out of the way first.

"Find any you particularly like?" His voice had a slightly husky quality to it as he spoke, and I clenched my jaw, closing my eyes to keep from turning around.

I took a deep breath to center myself and opened my eyes again, taking in the many images in front of me. I pointed to the ones where he'd had me lift my arm to scratch my neck, emphasizing my Escher knot, as well as the one where I had my arms above my head, both here in the den and in his bed. I didn't say anything; I couldn't trust my voice not to betray me and give away my desire.

I could see Edward nod from the corner of my eye before he straightened up and walked around the couch, taking his seat on my left again. I noticed that he sat a little closer, our thighs touching as he leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees. The constant contact between us managed to somehow soothe my nerves, and we spent the next however long pouring over the pictures, slowly putting a small pile aside to go over again and narrow our choices down even further.

Though the warmth that was coming from him soothed my nerves, it did entirely different things to the building need I felt for him. After a while, it was becoming harder and harder to concentrate. Probably because I was hard, and I was becoming more frustrated by the minute that he was - once again - not doing anything.

But neither are you.

Fuck, how did we end up here again?

Oh, that's right. Because apparently you're both idiots.

Edward was talking about the pictures - at least I assume that's what he was talking about. I wasn't listening anymore though, as he had leaned forward, placing his left hand on my knee. He was pointing at something with his right one, gesturing to the far right of the table that was hidden underneath all the pictures. All thoughts on anything to do with pictures or books or anything else pertaining to the whole reason I had come to his house to begin with went out the window at his touch. His hand felt so warm; all I could think about was how I wanted it to travel higher.

I sat, quietly staring at him, unable to move for fear of losing that contact with him. When he didn't receive an answer to whatever he appeared to have asked, he sat up a little and turned to look at me, as if in slow motion. His eyes scanned my face briefly before flashing with some emotion I wasn't able to catch because all my mind could register was that he was ever-so-slowly leaning in to me, his lips parting slightly as he licked them, and that he was taking short, shallow breaths.

My eyes were locked on his as I licked my lips in response to him. Fucking finally was the first recognizable thought to penetrate my brain as I felt his lips brush against mine once...twice. His dark emerald eyes were carefully gauging my response as on the third brush, he lingered. His lips were so warm, so soft, and I found my hand slowly sliding up the arm that was still connected to me, only becoming aware of the action as my thumb got caught on the hem of his sleeve.

Both of us paused, looking down at my hand before we found each others' eyes again. Grinning crookedly at him, I placed my left hand on his jaw, cradling his face before letting my right finish its journey and find its place on the other side of his face.

"I've been wanting to do this for three fucking weeks," I murmured as I leaned in again, tilting my head slightly as I pulled him to me to close the distance.

My eyes stayed open just long enough to see his flutter closed as I deepened the kiss. It started off as a slow, sensual kiss, each of us relishing the feel of our mouths doing this age-old dance of would-be lovers. I was certain he was enjoying this as much as I was, as his hands were constantly moving, touching, caressing.

I was growing impatient, wanting more, wanting to taste him, so I ran the tip of my tongue over his lips. He immediately responded by parting his lips, allowing me to explore the recesses of his mouth. He moaned softly into the kiss and that sound - along with the subtle bite of his tongue ring - went straight through me, making me even harder than I was before.

After allowing me to roam his mouth with my tongue, he began to push back, demanding I let him do the same, and I happily obliged. The flavor of our beer masked the taste that was purely Edward, but I was learning it, enjoying the feel of his tongue brushing mine, his thumbs stroking my cheekbones as his hands made their way back to tangle in my hair. He shifted closer to me, his thigh pressing more urgently against mine as he sighed softly. The entire time, I had kept my hands on either side of his face, but it wasn't enough anymore. Without breaking our kiss, I moved my hands to his shoulders and pushed him back against the couch so he was half-lying on it. I got up enough to give him room to move his legs onto the couch before I crawled on top of him.

Aligning my body to his, I lowered myself slowly on top of him, both of us moaning as soon as our groins connected. He arched his back slightly, and the friction the move created felt wonderful and instantly had me craving more. It appeared as if he was of a similar mind as we each began to move our hips, the thick denim heating as we did. The feel of the rough fabric - even with the barrier of my underwear - the friction, the heat, his lips on mine, his hands roaming fucking everywhere he could reach; all of it caused me to shiver in delight. It felt so fucking good, and all coherent thought had left me.

We were both breathing hard through our noses when Edward suddenly pulled away, tilting his head slightly as he looked at me with a small frown. I searched his eyes as we both tried to catch our breath, wondering what was wrong, if I'd maybe gone too far.

His eyes were on mine as he gave me a curious little half-grin, his brow raised as he said, "Hey, I don't even know your last name..."

My eyes widened in disbelief.

Wait, what?

We're finally done pussyfooting around, and he stops because he doesn't know my name?

You never gave it to him, you dolt. Now stop thinking, give the man your last name, and get back to it.

"Oh. It's Whitlock," was my brilliant, breathless reply.

Edward's grin widened as he slipped his fingers around my tie and pulled me back to him, murmuring against my lips, "Pleased to meet you. Now come here, Mr. Whitlock..."

I started to chuckle, but it was quickly swallowed by the searing kiss that followed. This is more like it! Edward still had his fingers curled around my tie, and I thought he was just holding on to it until I felt a different kind of tugging. It took me a few seconds to recognize that he was untying the knot and pulling the tie from my shirt. It took a few more seconds for it to sink in that he was doing so with great care, in complete contrast to what other parts of our bodies were doing.

I fleetingly wondered why he would be so careful, but I was quickly distracted as he started to unbutton my shirt slowly, never once breaking our kiss as we both ground our hips into the other. He started tugging at my shirt, teasing it out of my jeans, and I pulled away long enough to remove the blasted thing altogether, causing him to chuckle.

His eyes roamed over my chest, a look of disappointment on his face as he saw my undershirt. This time, I chuckled as I quickly pulled it off, too. His eyes blazed as his fingers traced my skin, slowly working his way up from my waist to my chest. When he reached my nipples and began to tease them, flicking the piercings as he did, I couldn't contain the moan that escaped my lips.

Faster than I could comprehend, Edward latched onto one of my nipples with his mouth, alternately sucking on it and flicking it with his tongue. I froze, overwhelmed by the sensation and the fire he was rapidly building inside of me. A soft "Fuck..." was all I managed as he lavished attention on the other nipple.

My hands found the hem of his shirt, and I slid them underneath, bunching the fabric up as I went. When I couldn't go any further, Edward finally let go, curling up enough to allow me to pull his shirt off as well. As he settled back, all I could do was stare at him as my fingers ghosted over his chest. I'd seen him before of course - at the tattoo parlor - but to be able to look and touch...

Fucking gorgeous...

When my eyes moved up, it was to see his cocky grin before I met his scorching gaze. Grinning in response, I slowly lowered myself to him again, dipping my head so that instead of his mouth, my lips found his jaw as I nipped along his slight scruff up to his ear. I could hear his breathing hitch as he tilted his head to give me better access, moaning as my teeth grazed his lobe before running my tongue lightly over it and blowing softly.

I felt him shiver in response, his hands running up and down my back, his blunt nails scraping lightly with every pass. I nuzzled just below his ear, a near purr escaping me at the feel of his bare chest against mine. I could both feel and hear the soft chuckle from him. I narrowed my eyes and growled softly, my teeth playfully clamping down where his neck and shoulder met.

I chuckled as he muttered a soft "Fuck!", his hips bucking under me in response. I licked over the area I'd bitten, soothing the sting and placing soft kisses on it, causing him to moan beseechingly. Edward's fingers knotted in my hair as he pulled just hard enough to coerce me to lift my head and turn to face him. As soon as I had, he crashed his lips to mine hungrily.

I moaned as he continued to devour me, and I let my hand glide down his side until it hit the waist of his jeans. I slid my fingers under the waistband, brushing teasingly back and forth for a little while. Edward gave a slight jerk with his hips in response. When I popped the top button of his jeans and started toward the second, he pulled away from the kiss and placed a hand over mine to stop my movements.

"Wait, Jasper...we need to talk first..."

His voice was breathless, and he was looking intently at me as he spoke. I frowned, my eyes searching his as I wondered what he wanted to talk about now, of all times, but I placed my hand on his hip as I waited for him to continue.

He took a deep breath, the expression on his face turning serious as he spoke again, "I just...well, I just thought you should know that I was tested four months ago, and I'm clean. But umm...there's been no...activity," he smirked briefly before going on, "for about five months anyway."

I mentally replayed what he'd said a few times before finally cottoning on, my eyes widening slightly as I understood. "Oh."

I blinked and shook my head as if to clear it. "Oh!" I paused, silently cursing my lack of eloquence, though really, who could blame me considering the circumstances? "Well, umm...I guess I've had some more recent activity." His eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly, and I quirked a brow and gave him a crooked grin of my own before continuing, "but not for a couple of months...and I got a clean bill of health just a few weeks ago."

Things cooled down after that - seriously, that kind of talk sort of equates a bucket of ice being thrown over your head. We kissed occasionally as we told each other a little more about our history. Edward seemed to want to be sure we were starting out openly and honestly, which made me feel a little jittery. It wasn't that I was opposed to the idea per se, but it sent my mind reeling.

Too fast, too soon.

So much of what we were talking about was the stuff for relationships, and the thought of that had me torn between fascination and freak out.

Edward had gotten us a couple more beers as we talked, and the alcohol helped dull the nerves I felt, so soon enough, we found ourselves lying back on the couch again. This time he took charge, and as he did, most of my fears took a backseat to the need to touch, kiss, and feel him. Things didn't get as heated as they did earlier, though, as we'd pause every now and then to talk about various things, including our date the next day.

He tried to pick things up where we'd left off, but the nagging thoughts of 'too fast, too soon' that kept running around my head made me wary, so I tried to play it off by being a little coy. "Not before the first date."

He'd growled at that and continued to tempt me, though he never really pushed. I had to give him credit for that, all things considered, and the way he respected me - among many other things I was discovering about him - was filed away for later contemplation.

I had no idea how much time had passed since we'd come to his place after lunch, but it had gotten dark outside, and as I tried to remember just how much I'd had to drink, I realized that I was in no shape to drive home. Edward had gone to the bathroom, so I took the opportunity to call a cab. I needed to get home soon, or I would never leave.

Part of me - more precisely the throbbing hard-on I still had - wouldn't have minded staying. Despite all our teasing, neither of us had come close to finding any sort of release, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I wasn't ready for that - especially not when I was this intoxicated. Rubbing my hands over my face, I tried to rally my thoughts, but it felt as if my mind were on some merry-go-round or something.

This is Edward. You've been obsessing over him for weeks. Why are you even thinking of leaving?

Because this is Edward, and you've been obsessing over him for weeks. You do not obsess over any guy. Ever!

He walked back, a curious look on his face as I glanced up at him. I could feel the slight frown on my lips and the way my eyes were tight, so I gave him an apologetic smile as I got up off the couch and closed the distance between us. "I called a cab. I need to get home."

The look of disappointment in his eyes was clear, though it quickly passed as he nodded in resignation. I bent down to grab my undershirt from where it had fallen, having a strange sense of déjà vu as I pulled it over my head. He handed me my button down, and as I took it from him, our fingers brushed. I smiled at him as I hooked the collar on my finger and swung the shirt over my shoulder, not even bothering to put it on.

We walked to the door in silence, which continued as I sat on the bench to put on my shoes. As soon as I was back on my feet, Edward grabbed me by the waist and pulled me slightly to the side so the bench was no longer behind me. He pushed me against the door as he pressed against me, his lips attacking my neck, my ear, my jaw, anywhere he could reach.

Oh, fuck!

I whimpered as he slowly rocked his hips into me, quickly losing what resolve I had to leave; it felt so fucking good. I managed to gasp out as he continued his attack on my body, "Edward...cab...be here any minute."

He growled into my ear before biting softly on my lobe, "Send it away. I'll take you home."

I whimpered again as he continued to nip, lick, and tease me, making it nearly impossible for me to stay coherent. "Can't...you've had too much to drink, too."

I shivered as he ran his nose along my neck and up to my ear, before whispering, “Stay with me tonight, then…”

Fucking hell! My mind was overcome with images of the two of us together, and I thought about what it would feel like to hold him in my arms...to fall asleep with him...to wake up with him.

And that scared the ever-loving shit out of me.

Not since Paul had I ever even considered staying with a guy I'd just gotten to know. Hell, we'd only confirmed today that we were both gay and interested in each other. And now he was asking me to spend the night?

Don't get me wrong - the thought of staying and finding some release was very appealing, but there was more than that for me. There had to be. It seldom was about just fucking a guy.

All the while, Edward kept up the touching, kissing...doing everything he could to try and tempt me into staying, into giving in. My body was most definitely responding to his efforts. My thoughts were going a mile a minute when we heard the cabby honk the horn. Saved by the bell!

I couldn't just...leave, though, so I put both my hands on either side of his face, pulling him to me and planting a searing kiss on his lips. He responded immediately, and after a minute - and another honk on the horn from the cabby - I pulled away, breathing deeply. His eyes were storming with desire, and I almost gave in. Almost. I gave him a peck on the lips before whispering against them, "I'll see you tomorrow."

I swung my shirt back over my shoulder and quickly made my escape. If I stayed there one second longer, I knew I would give in and stay the night. And possibly more. I shook my head briefly, trying to stop any such thoughts. I glanced up at the door as I got in the cab, seeing Edward leaning against the doorpost with his arms crossed over his chest. He had not put his shirt back on, and he looked...vulnerable, somehow, his shoulders slumping slightly as he stood with an indecipherable expression on his face. I raised my hand in parting, and once I saw him do the same, I closed the door, and the driver took off.

Leaning my head back against the seat, one bewildered thought was prevalent in my mind.

I have a date with Edward tomorrow.

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Chapter 4 ~ Chapter 6