Dirty Dining (19 page)

“The train.”

“I know what BART is. I thought you might want to stay in the city tonight. With me.”

Jeremy hadn’t wanted to get his hopes up, but he certainly did want to stay with Brice.

“We could stay at a nice hotel. Any place you like. The Fairmont? The Mark Hopkins? And I’ll cover whatever you get for overnight—”

Jeremy pulled away and shoved his hands into his jacket pockets as he turned toward Market Street and the BART entrance. “No thanks.”

“Wait. Jeremy… please wait.” Brice reached for Jeremy’s elbow, but Jeremy shook the grip off.

“Sorry. I really made a mistake here, Brice. I need to go.”

“No, Jeremy. I’m the one who made a mistake. I said it wrong. I just thought maybe the money was really important. I want to spend time with you, and it isn’t about sex. I just… aw, fuck. I’m sorry. I don’t know what
you’re
expecting. Maybe I’m just a wallet to you. I have no clue.”

Jeremy hadn’t considered the possibility Brice might also feel used, but in a different way than Jeremy did. “No. You’re not a wallet. Yeah, the money is important, and I took the job at the club for the pay. But I’m not working tonight, and for me, nothing about tonight was about money.” He paused. “And I don’t want it to be.”

“Good. Shit, now I sound like I want it for free.” He put his hands over his face and looked like he wanted to crawl under a rock.

Jeremy reached out for Brice’s arm, pulling his hands away from his face. “This got way too complicated tonight.”

“If we’d met at some bar, we wouldn’t be having this discussion, would we?” Brice made a weak smile.

“You want to pick me up at a bar?” Jeremy teased. “I’m not easy. You’ll have to work for it.”

“How about the bar at the Fairmont?”

“Is there one near your place?”

“No.”

“I can stand under the streetlight, but then you will have to pay.”

“Okay. No sex tonight. Or at least no obligation or expectation. How much for you just to stay over and keep me company?”

“That’s extra.” Jeremy glanced up from under his lashes, the way Kit had taught him.

“You’re worth it, no matter the price.”

Jeremy smiled and nodded. Brice sounded like he really meant it, and Jeremy’s throat became unbearably tight. Anyone listening would think they were nuts, but Brice’s comments meant a lot to Jeremy.

Brice flagged down a taxi, and they slid into the backseat. Jeremy leaned his head on Brice’s shoulder as Brice put his arm around his waist. They didn’t speak on the ride as the taxi stopped and started in San Francisco traffic and poorly timed stoplights. The ride didn’t take long. Brice lived on Russian Hill, affording a spectacular view of the bay and the Golden Gate Bridge.

The taxi stopped in front of a classic Victorian with a circular tower extending from one corner of the upper level. The street was quiet, residential, and exclusive, and each house had a patch of lawn or landscaping between the entrance and the street. Even the cars lining the curb were expensive.

Brice unlocked the front door, and they took a small elevator—not unlike the one at the Dinner Club—to the third level.

“Here we are,” Brice said as he unlocked the door. He waved Jeremy in with a gallant flourish, and Jeremy glanced around the entranceway, where two old Japanese woodblock prints hung. An enormous and intricate Oriental carpet covered most of the smooth dark wood of the hallway. Jeremy didn’t even hear his footsteps as he moved into the living room.

“It’s lovely.”

“Thank you. Make yourself at home.” Brice helped Jeremy out of his jacket and hung it up in a closet on a real wooden hanger.

Jeremy sat on the plush couch and looked around at the room. Brice made good money as a lawyer, but now Jeremy saw what good taste he had as well. The art and furniture in the room were exquisite. A few of the pieces would be right at home in a museum.

“Would you like something to drink? I can open a nice bottle of wine or….”

“No thanks.”

“Cognac or brandy? Armagnac?”

“I don’t know what the difference is.” Jeremy paused. “I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

Brice nodded and went behind a bar at the far end of the room and pulled glasses out of a cabinet.

“Before you think I robbed the deYoung or something, the art is mostly my parents’. They collected too many gorgeous things to fit in their house anymore. I was lucky enough to get their castoffs.”

“These are castoffs?”

“Yes. They kept the best stuff for themselves.” Brice handed Jeremy a glass and sat next to him on the couch, leaving about four inches between their thighs. “This is Armagnac. It’s a type of French brandy.”

Jeremy sniffed it, then took a tiny sip. It was like drinking electricity, unbelievably smooth electricity, tingling against his lips, tongue, and throat as he swirled it in his mouth and let the liquid spill gloriously down his throat.

“Wow. Oh, just wow. I’ll never be able to drink beer or even decent whiskey again.”

Brice grinned. “You like it?”

“Oh, yeah. But how’s it different from brandy or cognac?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“Yes. But maybe not now.”

“I’ll be happy to tell you. Later.”

“Later.” Jeremy took another smooth sip and leaned in to kiss Brice. The kiss was tingly and delicious, and Jeremy found himself taking a more aggressive role than he usually did with Brice. He kicked his boots off and put his empty glass down on the table behind the couch, then straddled Brice’s hips and settled himself into Brice’s lap.

Brice slid his arms around Jeremy and pulled him in for another long, deep kiss. Jeremy threaded his fingers through Brice’s hair. He could feel Brice’s cock swelling beneath him, pressing against his balls through two layers of denim. They kept kissing, unhurriedly. Brice didn’t glide his hands under Jeremy’s shirt or grab his ass or even try to unbutton anything.

They made out for a long time. Jeremy’s arousal increased, and his nipples tingled and ached as he moved against Brice’s chest, but he didn’t feel the usual sense of urgency and hunger, and apparently neither did Brice. It felt familiar and comfortable. He pulled away for a moment to replenish his supply of oxygen and rested his head against Brice’s shoulder.

Brice caressed Jeremy’s arm. “There’s a guest room, if you’d like to stay there.”

“A guest room?” Jeremy sat up straight again. “Does it have a big bed?”

A smile hinted on Brice’s lips. “Well, I didn’t want to make any assumptions or for you to feel any obligation.”

“The guest room sounds fine.” Jeremy peeled himself off Brice and slipped his boots back on.

Brice didn’t give any indication if Jeremy’s choice surprised or disappointed him. He stood and led Jeremy down a short hall. “This is the master bedroom.” He indicated an open door on his left.

Jeremy glanced in to see a large bedroom decorated in dark reds, with an unmade bed.

“This is the guest room.” Brice stopped at the end of the hall and flipped the light on, then waved Jeremy inside.

This room was smaller, but still spacious. It was done in dark blues, with cherrywood floors and a lovely Oriental carpet. The bed was a four-poster of shining dark wood with an elaborate canopy in midnight blue silk. It looked like something from the set of
The Tudors
.

“Wow. It’s beautiful.”

“Lots of blankets on the bed, in case you get cold. And a private bathroom.” Brice indicated a door. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“I will. Thanks.” He stepped forward and kissed Brice, then grabbed his bag and headed for the bathroom.

B
RICE
WASHED
up for bed and stared at himself in the mirror, noticing more than the usual number of silver hairs near his right temple. For two seconds he considered pulling a few out, finally deciding to leave it be. He wasn’t vain. Then he glanced in the direction of the guest bedroom and wondered whether Jeremy thought of him as anything more than a rich older guy. Was that why he wanted to sleep down the hall? It wasn’t what Brice expected. Was this the end of their—he didn’t even know what to call it—relationship? They met twice a week at the Dinner Club. Did Jeremy want to keep their physical relationship confined to that? Or would Brice find himself with a different serving boy next time?

He undressed and threw everything into the hamper in his dressing room, then pulled on a pair of comfy blue sweats, leaving the string untied as he slid under the blankets in his suddenly too-large bed. He wasn’t tired, but he didn’t feel like reading a book. He switched the lamp off and closed his eyes. He was still wired with arousal from having Jeremy in his lap. He wouldn’t fall asleep anytime soon unless he got some release. Maybe a shower would do the trick.

He heard something in the hallway and waited. Nothing. Just his imagination. Then he saw a shadow in the doorway. Then it was gone.

“Brice?”

This time Brice saw Jeremy outlined in the dim light from the hall. The curve of his hips gave the impression he might be naked. Brice felt a little jolt of excitement. “Yeah?”

“Do you have room in there for me?” Jeremy’s voice was a low almost-whisper, but rumbly and sexy as hell.

“I might.”

Jeremy walked toward Brice, and in the glow coming through the window, he could tell Jeremy wasn’t just naked but hard. Moonlight outlined his cock as it jutted from his body, bobbing as he moved. Brice lifted the covers, but Jeremy didn’t get in. He just stood at the edge of the bed while Brice took in his slim, athletic body and the perfect curve of his erection.

“You look beautiful in the moonlight.” Brice sat up in bed and swung his legs over the side. He took one of Jeremy’s hands and kissed the palm. Inches away, he saw Jeremy’s cock stiffen even more and heard a soft moan. Brice pulled Jeremy closer and leaned forward so he could take just the head of his cock into his mouth, tracing the contours of the smooth crown with his tongue and using the lightest of suction. He played with Jeremy using just his mouth, unable to stifle his own groans. Jeremy had a handful of Brice’s hair and pulled with exactly the right amount of pressure. He opened his mouth and took more of Jeremy in, moving up and down but still concentrating on the crown and the sensitive ridges.

“Slow down a little, Brice.” Jeremy stepped back a pace so his cock slipped out of Brice’s mouth. “I want to lie down with you, feel your arms around me.”

“Yes.” Brice moved in for one last taste of Jeremy, then got back into bed and made room for Jeremy.

Jeremy slid under the covers and pressed himself to Brice. “Let’s get rid of these.” Jeremy pulled Brice’s sweats down his hips far enough for Brice to kick out of them. Then Jeremy pressed himself against Brice’s skin, hot and hard, his cock head wet with Brice’s saliva. In about three seconds, Brice was so hard it hurt.

“Jeremy, I don’t actually have any supplies here….”

“Nothing?”

“Maybe a condom somewhere, but that’s it. I don’t entertain here.” Fuck, why had he said that?

“Would you think I was too slutty if I told you I brought some?”

“Not at all.”

“I’ll get them.”

“No. I will. In your bag?”

“Outer pocket. The bag’s on the bed in the other room.”

“Wait here.”

He felt rather than saw Jeremy nod. Brice got out of bed and moved swiftly down the hall to collect the necessary items. He slid back into bed, and almost immediately Jeremy pulled him into another needy embrace, cock still hard and insistent against Brice’s body.

Jeremy took the condoms from Brice while Brice drizzled some lube into his hand. “On your back?”

Jeremy obliged, and Brice knelt between his legs, eager for more of Jeremy’s cock. He continued where he’d left off earlier, at the same time pressing a slippery finger to Jeremy’s hole. When Jeremy groaned softly, Brice pushed a fingertip inside, enjoying the tight grip of muscle. He pushed in deeper, spreading lube and fingerfucking Jeremy until he had him squirming and moaning.

“You want to come now?” Brice asked.

“Not yet. With you inside me?”

“Mmm. Sounds good.”

Together they rolled the condom onto Brice, and he pressed himself inside as slowly as possible. He liked watching Jeremy’s expression as his cock filled him. Even in the moonlight Brice could see Jeremy’s pleasure, cock still hard, nipples plump and peaked. Brice reached out to tweak one and felt Jeremy’s sharp intake of breath as he arched his back.

“Real slow.”

“Am I hurting you?” Brice started to pull out.

“No. I just want to make this last a long time—if you can.”

Brice grinned. “I don’t know how long I can last right now. You feel so incredible.”

Brice started a slow, easy rhythm, moving in deep on each stroke, then shifted to shorter, shallower thrusts for a while, then alternating randomly. With one hand he pinched Jeremy’s nipples or gave a firm tug of his cock. He wanted to make Jeremy feel good without taking him too close too quickly.

“A little faster now.”

Brice obliged. He kept himself close to the edge, concentrating on the movements that made Jeremy moan and writhe.

When Jeremy finally gave him permission, Brice thrust slowly and steadily against Jeremy’s gland, while using his hand in firm, even strokes, thumbing Jeremy’s frenulum until he felt the tremors begin. He caught most of Jeremy’s release in his hand, then smeared it onto his own chest. He liked the sticky heat on his skin, and only then did he let himself tumble into orgasm, with Jeremy beneath him, legs tight around Brice’s waist.

Brice rolled onto his back, and Jeremy pressed against him, taking the condom off, then leaning down to lick Brice’s cock nice and clean. The extra stimulation pumped out a few last drops that Jeremy enjoyed with a slurpy chuckle. Then Jeremy licked Brice’s chest clean too, with extra attention to one sticky nipple until Brice had to push him away.

“I’ll head back to the guest room now.” Jeremy sat up.

“No, you’re not.” Brice gripped his wrist. “Once you leave this room, you can’t come back. I don’t have a revolving door around here.”