“You know, I think you're right. And I've really been slacking on that, haven't I?”
Now it's my turn to smile.
“You certainly have. In fact, my health has really taken a turn for the worse since I moved into my new apartment.”
It's not that I've been intentionally avoiding the apps – at least, no more than usual. But between our schedule and the memories of that wall in the kitchen, I just...haven't.
“Yeah, uh, mine too.”
Is he saying what I think he's saying?
“So, your place or mine?”
The wrinkle between his eyebrows appears and for a moment I think he'll back out.
“I've got a doorman. It's probably not a good idea.”
I wish I could tell him he's being paranoid, but the fact is he's probably right. The right question fromThe Neutral Zone, a little money passing hands, and suddenly he'd have a real problem on his hands.
“But, uh, your place is close, too. And you have a private entrance.”
“You're not worried about someone seeing us walking together?”
“It's eight degrees. What idiot would be out in this weather?”
I resist pointing out that we are the idiots in question.
“Besides, that's easy enough to deal with – I'm just a good captain, making sure my rookie gets home safe after a night of celebrating.”
Thankfully,the walk is over quickly.
“Do you want something to drink? Water? Something warm?”
“No, I have a better idea.”
He comes up behind me at the fridge, slipping his hands under the hem of my shirt. The cold sensation against my skin should feelunpleasant, but instead all I can focus on are his rough callouses as they snag on my skin.
I shut the door and spin in his arms, trapping myself between him and the fridge. I meet his eyes and slowly rise up to meet his lips.
At first, his lips are still as I press mine to them. But before long, they open to me, his tongue tangling with mine as he presses me into the stainless steel of the refrigerator door.
“What are you, uh, in to?” he asks as he sucks at the skin underneath my ear.
“I'm up for pretty much anything. You?”
“Can I fuck you? Would that be ok?”
I'm not particularly surprised to find that Ethan would prefer to top me. The more I get to know him, the more I understand how his sexuality is tied into the macho bullshit he's been fed his entire life, and I suspect it's showing here, too.
“You don't...”
“I don’t. If you don’t want to, we can just swap blowjobs.”
“No, that's fine. We should go upstairs, though.”
As much as I like the thought of him fucking me up against this stainless steel, I suspect the act is better in theory than reality.
Up in the loft, I head to the bedside table while he eyes the bed. As I pull out the drawer to grab a condom and some lube, he comes up behind me and looks over my shoulder.
