I chuckled, then mussed up his hair. “There, now you’ve got the after-sex look, too.”
He laughed in response, then fixed his glasses. “I guess it’s about time.”
I paused and almost asked him if that meant what it sounded like it meant. Could that have been his first time getting a blowjob? It seemed impossible, considering how sexy he was. But then again, Clark had been pretty closed off. Maybe it wasn’t just my forward flirting that made him act that way?
“Now that I’ve gotten you to loosen up a little bit, maybe we can have some proper fun soon? What do you say, Clark? Want to show me some of those movies you were talking about?”
Clark laughed, then pushed his sneaker against my boot. “I guess that sounds nice. There’s that science fiction movie festival coming up.”
“Sure,” I said. “Although I don’t know how long I can wait for another taste.”
Clark swallowed, then seemed to catch himself and shook his head quickly. “You know, I’m still looking for a serious relationship. I’m not going to put out for you just because you gave me one blowjob.”
I pushed my boot back against his sneaker. “I get it, I get it,” I teased. “You don’t think I’m the serious relationship type.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, and I was impressed to see a sassy smile turn up the corner of his mouth. “Iknowyou’re not the serious relationship type,” he said. “Not to mention, don’t you have to run home to your roommate?”
I pointed my finger against his chest. “Getting a little mouthy now, I like it,” I hummed. “How about I catch you at the comic shop sometime next week, and I’ll promise not to seduce you in the middle of the store?”
Clark laughed. “I guess I can’t say no to a promise like that.”
“Perfect,” I answered, then leaned forward and pressed a kiss against his lips. “Catch you soon, cutie.”
* * *
By the time I got back to the apartment, I was eager to get in the kitchen and whip up a big meal for Rip. Even though I hadn’t gotten off, the release of fooling around with Clark and letting out a little steam had done me good. My mind felt clear and my body was energized as I pulled ingredients from the fridge and cleaned off the cutting board.
Dinner seemed like a good way to show Rip I was taking the incident with Grace seriously. I’d been neglectful and absentminded, leaving the stove on and causing a scene, so it only made sense to use the kitchen for something good. I’d pulled together the little extra money I still had to buy some fresh catches at the fish market, and I went to the fancy grocery store for organic vegetables and a pack of nice beers. As I chopped the potatoes and onions and set the fish in a marinade, I was happy to realize how much I was feeling at home in Seattle.
I couldn’t lie, though, that I was also feeling pretty horny. Fooling around with Clark had given me just enough of a taste that I wanted more. Normally, I would just turn to Rip, same as he would always turn to me. We knew each other’s bodies and how to get each other off, and there was nothing quite as nice as rubbing up against each other. But we hadn’t actually hooked up since first getting to Seattle, and after my screwup with the stove, he hadn’t exactly seemed available.
Once the vegetables were in the stove and the fish was ready to go, I snuck into the bathroom to jerk one out and pounded my cock above the sink before releasing a few quick sprays. I cleaned up just in time to hear the door open, and when I stepped out, Rip was home.
“You have that grin on your face like you just got laid,” he said, greeting me.
“Something like that,” I answered. “How’s the tattoo shop?”
“Good.” He paused, then tilted his head. “It smells nice. You already cooking?”
I turned, then grabbed a bottle of beer and the opener from the counter. “I told you,” I said. “I wanted to apologize for the hassle I caused you last week, when I hurt Grace.” I handed him the bottle, then took one for myself. “And you’re just like most guys. The second you get food or sex, you forget what you were mad about in the first place.”
He laughed, then peered at the stove. I flicked the skillet on and pulled the fish from the fridge. “Should be ready in no time. You hungry?”
“Sure am,” he said. “Let me just hop in the shower quick.”
I finished preparing the meal and set it on the little table by the fridge, then flipped on the stereo in the other room to the indie rock station. It still looked like a living room more than my bedroom, but since I’d hung a curtain across the middle and unpacked my boxes, it was a little more lived-in.
Rip came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his hips, then padded barefoot into the bedroom. When he returned, he wore a tight pair of black denim jeans and a white T-shirt that was worn enough to reveal the lines of the tattoos on the skin beneath the cotton.
“Shop was good,” he said, picking up the conversation from earlier. “There were enough walk-ins to keep me busy, and the other artists all seemed chill enough, even if none of them are going to be my friends.”
“What kind of work did your clients want?” I asked as I loaded up a couple of plates at the stove. When Rip tried to stand up and help, I waved for him to sit down.
If you’re going to pay all the bills, at least pretend to let me help out sometimes.
“Just the regular flash. I got started on a bigger piece, based on a drawing of the mountains outside the city, but mainly just a few hearts, a couple of names, easy stuff.”
I joined him at the table and smiled as Rip made an appreciative humming sound at receiving his plate. “You won’t mind doing walk-ins again? You always said that was kid stuff.”
