The Lonely Drop (8 page)

He takes me back into his mouth as deep as he can, and I do it, I let go. I thrust gently at first, but at his appreciative noises, I find myself getting rougher and thrusting deeper. I run my hand through his hair, experiment with gripping it a little in one hand. A strange thrill runs through me, unfamiliar. I knew about making love— how sweet it could be, but I’ve never realized how heady it is to have someone trust me enough to use him like this. Heat curls up my spine, and I hold his head still as I push into his throat. He doesn’t struggle against me, instead he makes this sound, vibrating around my cock. When he cups my balls in one hand and rubs my taint as he pulls away, my knees actually get weak.

“Come on, Nick. Come in my mouth, on my face. Wanna taste it. Wanna see it. Wanna feel it.”

His words, his hands,
oh, hell, his mouth.
He’s running his tongue up and down my shaft, looking up at me with adoring eyes. When he closes his mouth around the tip of my cock again, I can’t hold back anymore. I roar out his name as I come. He swallows the first spurt, then lets the rest hit him in the face, and the sight is so breathtaking, a sharp zing of lust slides through me. I want to do it again and again. This isn’t a night of casual sex, this is baring myself to him, every animal piece of me, and trusting him to still like me afterward.

“That was…” Speechless, I tug him up and kiss him again, wiping at the spunk on his face with a kitchen towel, but loving the taste of myself in his mouth. When he starts rubbing against me, I toss the towel aside, reach my hand into his pants and jerk him slowly. He whimpers into my mouth and starts to pull away from the kiss, so I use my other hand in his hair to hold him steady, not letting him hide from the intimacy.

Something about being sated already makes me feel powerful as I ramp up his arousal, drive him crazy with wanting, but backing off when he gets close. He finally wrenches his head away from the kiss and buries his face in my shoulder.

“Want it so bad, Nick,” he whines. “Make me come, please.”

I speed up my hand and he thrusts into it, making the most amazing noises as he loses himself in the pleasure. He’s
loud
, and I don’t know how I never realized before how sexy that kind of abandon can be.

His teeth clamp down on my shoulder as his come splashes hot and wet between us. I hold him as he shudders against me, so fierce and beautiful.

When he slumps in my arms, I kiss the side of his face, his chin, his throat. Everywhere I can reach to kiss him, I do.

“So good,” I whisper. “That was so good.”

He straightens up and smiles, his expression all soft and sweet. “It really was, wasn’t it?”

I nod. “Best ever.”

The smile widens to a grin, not a cocky one, but a bashful one. He’s blushing— I never knew Kevin Dorsey was capable of such a thing. A rush of tenderness works through me and I pull him into another kiss, gentle and loving. When we finally separate, he’s still blushing.

“Shower?” he suggests, gesturing to the mess between us. I nod, pull up my pants, and lead the way.

****

The next morning, I awake to melting snow and too-bright sunlight streaming through my windows. We’d made love two more times in the night, taking turns topping, and he fell asleep in my bed, the big spoon curled around me. I try to ease out of his embrace without waking him, but no such luck.

“Hey.” He smiles at me, running a hand through my hair. “Where you going?”

“Shower.” I smile back, wondering if he’d mind if I kissed him. I settle for picking up his hand and giving it a squeeze. “Unless you want it first? I’ll start the coffee.”

“Mmmm. I wouldn’t mind staying in bed.” He arches an eyebrow at me.

“I have to get the restaurant ready to open for lunch. I might not have a full staff, so…”

He nods. “Yeah, I get it. Hey, about last night—” He’s cut off by his cell phone ringing on the table next to my bed. I hand it to him, and he frowns at it before answering. I start to stand up, but he tugs me down, holding onto my hand while he talks.

“Hey, Dad. Yeah, I wrapped things up yesterday. I sent the HR paperwork through last night, Carolyn said she’d take care of it… I was planning to come back on Monday… Fine… No, that’s fine. Can you have Carolyn reschedule my flight? I got snowed in at Nick’s place. No, he has nothing to do with why… Dad, he’s my friend. I’m not having this conversation with you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He hangs up, looking for a moment like he’s about to throw the phone, but instead he sighs heavily and drops it next to him on the bed. “I need to take the first flight out I can get. Apparently, there’s an acquisition on the table in Ohio, and he needs me in New York to run some stupid meeting.”

“I see.” I don’t see. I’ve never understood his relationship with his dad. And I’m really curious as to how I fit into their conversation.

“It’s stupid. He could cancel it. He’s just jerking me around.”

“Do you need a ride to the airport? I can…”

“No, I don’t want to put you out. I’ll take a cab.”

“Okay.” So many questions, but no words to ask them. “So, I’m going to take that shower now.”

“Yeah. Hey, I’ll get the coffee started.” He smiles bleakly at me. “At least we can have breakfast together before I go.”

I linger in the shower, trying not to wonder about his conversation with his dad. What was he talking about when he said “I’m not having this conversation with you?” What did I have nothing to do with?

Finally, I go downstairs and join him in the kitchen. He’s made coffee and eggs, and drops the toast in the toaster as soon as I walk in.

“Shower’s free,” I tell him, reaching for the coffee pot.

He shakes his head. “Not gonna shower. Want to smell like you all the way home.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut.

“Um, okay.” I scratch the back of my neck and try not to stare at him.

We sit down and eat our eggs in near silence.

“Are eggs vegetarian?” he asks suddenly. “I was surprised to see them in your fridge.”

“Lacto-ovo vegetarian, yes.”

“That sounds like a pregnancy thing,” he snickers.

I shrug. “Ovo means egg. Lacto means milk. Lacto-ovo vegetarians eat eggs and dairy but refrain from consuming meat or fish.”

“Got it. And bacon? What about vegetarians who eat bacon?” he teases.

“Confused college boys raised by hippie mothers associating pork and rebellion.” I grin. I had never even really liked the bacon, but when your mom teaches you how to roll your own joints? Your options for rebellion are limited.

Silence falls over the table again. Finally, I ask, “So, you had your one night. I don’t suppose…”

He looks up at me as I trail off, his fork paused halfway between his plate and his mouth. Finally, he sets his fork down and prompts, “You don’t suppose what?”

I look away for a moment. What do I really want to ask him? “I don’t suppose you’ll be back in Asheville any time soon?”

He looks down at his plate, then at me. He nudges his eggs around with his toast for a moment and says quietly, “I’d need a pretty good reason. I’ve got my new hires, so…”

Right. His work was a good reason. Not me.

I nod brusquely, stand up, and bring my plate over to the sink. “Well, travel safely, okay?”

“Ah, Nick, don’t—”

“Let’s not drag this out, Kev. It was fun. We were good together. But you’re going back to New York, and I’m here, and it would be silly to make more of it than it was.” I’m not going to admit my feelings for him, no matter what Jenny says about big romantic gestures. I can handle him leaving because he has to, but I can’t handle him rejecting me. At least this way, I can still have the fantasy.

“Nick.” His voice shakes a little on my name, but I turn on the faucet, and he doesn’t say anything more.

When the cab pulls up outside to take him to the airport, I breathe a heavy sigh of relief.

****

Chapter Seven

“He’s gone back to New York.” Jenny’s voice is almost accusing as she says it, pulling a pint and staring me down in the mirror behind the bar. “And you two…?”

There’s no use denying anything. “It was every bit as awesome as I knew it would be, and now he’s gone, and I feel like shit.” Dammit. How does this woman manage to make me spill my guts all the time? Aside from trucker-cap Jonah, the bar is empty, but I look around guiltily anyway.

She hands the pint to Jonah with a flirtatious smile before focusing her attention on me.

“Did you tell him how you feel?”

“Not exactly.” I squirm under her glare. “I told him it wasn’t just sex for me.”

“And what did he say?”

“He said it wasn’t just sex for him either.”

“And you let him
go?”

“He didn’t want to stay!” I glare at her. “He said he would need a really good reason even to visit.”

“Those were his exact words? What else did he say?”

“Nothing. He started to explain about how his work is done, but I couldn’t deal, so I called a cab for him.”

“The bartender’s solution to unruly patrons? Not exactly a winning strategy in personal relationships.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, I didn’t treat him like an unruly patron.”

“Mmm-hmm.” She turns her back to me. “What do you think, Jonah?”

Jonah smiles at Jenny like she made his day. He turns to me and says, “It’s like the time the sorority girls from UNCA were getting rowdy. One of them tried to tell you they had a designated driver, but you just piled them into the cab anyway.”

“It is nothing at all like that.”

“Is too.” Jonah laughs his wheezy little laugh. “Dude, I’ve been drinking here for years. Once you’ve decided how you’re going to remove the situation from your bar, you don’t listen to anyone. Remember how their designated driver showed up a half hour later.”

“How was I supposed to know he was really coming?”

“You could have listened.” Jonah gestured with one arm, the other folded across his chest. “That’s the point. You get uncomfortable in a situation, you make up your mind, and you turn off your ears.”

“I do not. I’m an excellent listener.”

Jonah snorts and shakes his head. “Sure you are.”

“I’m a freaking bartender. It’s like a required skill. Jenny, tell him.”

“Oh no, honey. You’re doing a great job not listening to the man all by yourself, thereby proving his point.”

I look back and forth between the two of them, with their smug, self-congratulatory grins.

Fuck, they’re right.

I pull out my phone and fire off a quick text.

Are you still at the airport?

A few moments later, my phone buzzes.

Boarding now. Thanks again for taking me in last night.

Shit. Boarding, which means he’s going to be on the plane, and he won’t be comfortable talking to me about the shit we really need to talk about.

What were you going to say, this morning? Before I cut you off?

I wait for what seems an interminably long time, but he doesn’t answer. I’m not sure whether he’s collecting his thoughts or has turned his phone off. When the answer doesn’t come after an hour spent busying myself around the bar, I figure it probably won’t come any time soon.

The bar actually starts to get busy later in the afternoon— businesses are still closed all around us, but the roads have cleared, so everyone is out getting their drink on. Ain’t no party like a snow day party, I guess.

Just when I think I might have a moment to slip away to check my messages, Jenny’s shitbucket ex, Daniel, shows up. I come around the bar to stop him before he can even sit down. I gesture to Jenny to stay behind the bar, and Jonah comes and stands at my elbow.

“You need to leave, Daniel.” I make my voice as firm as possible. “You aren’t allowed to come within a certain distance of Jenny and you know it. If you come in my bar and stir shit, I will call the police.”

“She’s taking my kids away, Nick. I want to see my kids.”

“They aren’t here, Daniel.” I look over his shoulder out into the street. “You should talk to your lawyer. There are conditions to your custody. Coming in to the bar isn’t going to do you any favors.” I don’t mention the fact that he’s high as a kite. I don’t want Jenny coming out from behind that bar.

“This is a public place. Maybe I want a beer.” Daniel juts his chin belligerently, pulls the nearest chair out from a table, and sits down next to a pair of young women. “Ladies.” He tips his baseball cap at them.

“I don’t serve people who are already drunk. Please leave.” I turn to Jonah and whisper, “Call the police.”

Jonah nods and crosses to the bar and picks up his phone. He keeps his gaze on me as I turn to Daniel.

“Okay, Daniel. Jonah’s calling the police. You could leave now, before they get here, or they’re going to take you out of here.”

“I’m not leaving.” He crosses his arms over his chest. The two women stand up, shrug apologetically at me, and move to another table.

I decide to try another tack.

“Daniel, do you really think they’re going to let you see your kids if you get a drunk and disorderly ticket? While violating the terms of your restraining order?”

“She can’t keep them from me!” he shouts, slamming his hand down on the table and sending an empty glass crashing to the floor. The shattering noise just seems to anger him further. “For fuck’s sake, she works in a goddamned bar!”

“She makes a decent wage and provides for the kids and while she might spend a lot of time in a bar, unlike you, she does it sober.” Jonah is back at my side, glaring down at Daniel. “Now why don’t you do like Nick said, and get the fuck out of here.”

“Who the hell are you to tell me what to do?”

Oh, fuck.

Daniel jumps to his feet and shoves Jonah hard, and the next thing I know, punches are flying, Jenny is shrieking, and more of my glassware is hitting the floor than I have
ever
lost in one day before. I try to reach in to break up the fight but only end up getting a knee shoved in my groin.
Motherfucker.
An inch higher and he’d have bruised my balls.

Then I hear the blissful sound of sirens. It’s surreal, like something out of a movie, cops jumping out of the car and running into my pub. They manage to separate Jonah and Daniel, slapping cuffs on both of them until they can sort out the situation.