“Go ahead. I’m on the sixth floor, so we need to take the elevator.”
“Um, okay.”
The door slammed shut, and finally they were out of the biting cold. He transferred one bag to his left hand and pulled his keys from his jacket pocket to unlock the inner door. They walked inside to the lobby.
“Damn. This doesn’t feel like November. Seems more like February, right?” He pushed the elevator button. “Are you from the city?”
“Yeah. I grew up in Brooklyn.”
The elevator arrived, and the door slid open. Jeremy got in with Blake right behind him.
“Yeah? Me too. I like the outer boroughs. More real, at least before everyone else decided to come live here. Right?”
“I guess. I couldn’t imagine growing up in Manhattan. So many people and crowds.” Blake shrugged and gnawed on his lip. “I like a little bit of quiet, especially after a long day at work.”
Guessing Blake might be a little shy, Jeremy didn’t want to overwhelm him by talking about clubs he’d been to. “Yeah. Well, we lived in an apartment, so I had my brother and sister in my face. I love living alone now.”
The elevator door opened, and Blake waited for him to exit, then silently trailed behind him. His apartment felt wonderfully warm after their snowy trek, and Jeremy immediately kicked off his soaked sneakers and pulled off his wet socks, while Blake stood watching him, still in his jacket and boots.
“Make yourself comfortable. Don’t be shy. I don’t bite unless you ask me to.” He winked, and color flooded Blake’s face. “Do you live near here? Duh, I mean you must if you were walking home from the store.”
“Yeah. I live about four blocks down. I thought I could beat out the storm, but I guess I misjudged it.”
Finally, he sat on the sofa and unlaced his boots, then took them off and wiggled his toes in obvious pleasure. To Jeremy’s surprise, Blake had on colorful, funky socks, which made him even more interesting. A buttoned-up, shy guy with funky socks? Jeremy wondered if his underwear was also as fun.
Slow down, buddy. An hour ago you were planning on getting naked with Brent.
“So, uh, how about that Irish coffee?” Jeremy ran a hand through his hair, surprised by the nerves fluttering through his stomach. He needed to do something.
“You don’t have to go to any trouble. It’s nice to sit and be warm without the snow hitting me in my face.” Blake gave him a hesitant smile, and Jeremy returned it, hoping to put him at ease.
“It’s not a big deal. I’ll make the coffee, and we can hang out and get to know each other since we’re practically neighbors.”
Funny how most guys he brought home wanted to get it on right away, and Jeremy had no objection. They both knew it was all about the sex and nothing more. But Blake didn’t act like the guys he normally hooked up with.
A bit confused, Jeremy made them each a large coffee, making sure to put an extra shot of whiskey in both their mugs. He tasted the drink and muttered to himself. “That’ll relax him for sure.” He held up the container of milk. “You want? I drink it with just a splash.”
“Yeah. Lots, please.”
Careful not to spill, Jeremy brought their drinks over and sat down next to Blake on the sofa, letting out a gusty sigh. “Nothing like a good Irish coffee on a night like this. All I’m missing is the whipped cream, but I’m trying to be healthy.” He ran a hand over his flat abs and watched Blake’s gaze follow the motion.
Well, well, what do we have here?He smiled to himself.
“Go ahead,” he urged and took a large sip himself, feeling the heat and burn of the whiskey seep through him. “It’ll warm you right up.” Watching Blake swallow and lick his lips afterward, Jeremy felt his dick stiffen.
“Good, right?” Jeremy gazed at Blake over the rim of his mug.
“It’s a little strong, but yeah. Really good.” Blake took another long drink, and Jeremy honed in on the smooth whiteness of his neck. When Blake set the mug down, he’d drained half the coffee and his eyes were a bit softer and less wary than earlier.
“Long day? What do you do?”
“Uh, yeah. I’m an accountant, a CPA. Not the most interesting job, I know, but I like working with numbers.”
“Numbers can be sexy. Don’t kid yourself.”
“What do you do?” Blake tucked his feet underneath him, a sign to Jeremy that he was a bit more comfortable.
“I own a gym. Hard Core Fitness.” He pointed to the sweatshirt he wore. “I do personal training there too. It’s located farther into Brooklyn, near Brooklyn College.”
