Under My Skin (4 page)

Finally, though, he came to the door. The lock squeaked when Sebastian turned it, and the door opened with a jingle of the bell hanging from the top. Sebastian peered out at him, his expression a mixture of irritation and something else Dylan couldn't quite read.

“I was leaving and saw your light on,” Dylan said. “Working late?”

“Doing some month-end accounting. You?”

“I had to set up some interviews for a job opening I have at the shop, and my afternoon appointment ran long. Soccer mom's first tattoo, so we took it slow and easy.”

Sebastian gave him an odd look. “You tattoo soccer moms?”

“Oh, yeah. Probably more than you might think. Soccer moms, grandmas, doctors, lawyers, teachers. I even have a sweet little old lady who reminds me of Bunny who used to own the yarn shop here. Her name's Clarabelle. She loves flowers— used to run one of the big greenhouses in St. Louis that supplied florists. She retired years ago. She comes in every month and has me add one more tiny little daisy to the chain we're doing around her wrist. She bakes good cookies, too. Always brings me a batch when she comes in.”

Sebastian stared at him, and if Dylan wasn't mistaken, the man looked like Dylan had just thoroughly stunned him. Surely he didn't think only bikers and sailors and goths wore ink now, did he?

“I... I guess I didn't realize your clientele was so diverse,” Sebastian murmured. Then he shook his head as if reeling himself back to the moment. “Did you need something?”

Yeah, you.
The words had been on the tip of Dylan's tongue before he realized it. He bit them back. “I want to apologize for Babs this afternoon. She's been one of my clients for a long time and she's a flirt and a tease and sometimes doesn't really know when to close her mouth. I hope she didn't offend you.”

Sebastian's eyebrows pulled together for just a moment as if he were surprised by the apology. Then he seemed to gather himself and shrugged. “Nah. It's okay.”

“Sorry, too, about the music. I'll have a talk with Ander tomorrow. He gets enthusiastic and, to be honest, when I'm right there working in it, he turns it up so gradually throughout the day I don't really notice until it's blasting. I'll make sure he keeps it down.”

The surprised expression was back on Sebastian's face again. “Okay. Thanks.”

Sucking it up, Dylan blurted out what he really wanted to say. “We haven't had a chance to get to know each other very well yet. If you're close to finishing up for the night and you don't have other plans, do you want to go get a drink somewhere?”

He saw the quick rise and fall of the other man's chest beneath his white shirt. Sebastian's brows drew together again and his hesitation was almost tangible.

Dylan held his breath, hoping, but was afraid he was about to be rejected.

“I... ” Sebastian swallowed. His eyes looked troubled. And yet, Dylan swore he could feel the other man's pulse racing. Then Sebastian nodded slowly. “Okay, sure.”

Elation surged through Dylan. “Okay.”

“Let me go shut down the computer and turn off the light in the back room.”

He returned in less than a minute and, as he stepped through the doorway, then turned to lock the door, Dylan knew he should back up and give the man some room. Yet the lure of standing close enough to feel the heat of Sebastian's body was too much to resist. He didn't miss the fact Sebastian wasn't exactly rushing to get away either. Another pulse of excitement shot through his veins at that realization.

Finally, though, he stepped away and Sebastian faced him.

“So where do you want to go?”

“I know a place,” Dylan said. “Good beer and food.”

“Okay, I'll follow you.”

They crossed the small parking lot where, ironically, Dylan's Suzuki sportbike sat parked only two spaces away from Sebastian's Passat.

“I sort of had you pegged for a Harley-Davidson guy,” Sebastian said. “I was surprised to see you riding a crotch rocket.”

Dylan grinned. The spring weather, up until this past week, had sucked— rainy, cold, and miserable— so he'd been driving his older soft-top Jeep Wrangler and had only gotten his bike out of the garage a few days ago. “Harleys are great, but there's just something awesome about sportbikes. Not the most comfortable ride for long distances, but fun to zip around town on. I've got a spare helmet in my shop. You want to ride with me?” He still had the passenger seat on the bike from when he'd let a friend and his wife ride it last fall.

Sebastian shook his head. “No, I don't.” From his tone and the look on his face you would have thought Dylan had just asked him if he wanted to stick his hand in the sewer.

His reaction caused a flare of annoyance in Dylan. “What's the matter? Scared?”

The moment it came out of his mouth he cringed inwardly. What the hell was he doing? He'd finally gotten a chance to spend some time alone with Sebastian, without work or Ander or customers milling around, and had even managed to keep things on an even keel, with Sebastian in a reserved but decent mood and not outright hostile toward him like usual... and then he had ruin it because he was getting huffy over an imagined insult to his motorcycle.

Sebastian's body had tensed and his eyes snapped with anger at Dylan's taunt.

Before he could speak, Dylan held up a hand. “I'm sorry, that was uncalled for. You have every right to say no. I realize motorcycles aren't for everyone and I apologize. You drive and I'll ride and... I'll just meet you there.” He shut up, afraid he was babbling.

He saw Sebastian's jaw clench in the sodium vapor glow from the street light. Then he took a deep breath. “No.”

Dylan's pulse hitched. “You don't want to go anymore?” Shit. He'd really fucked this up.

Another deep breath and some of Sebastian's tension seemed to escape with the air. “Yes, I'll go. No, I'm not scared. I've ridden motorcycles before.” He gave Dylan a pointed look that said in no uncertain terms he wasn't a wuss and didn't appreciate Dylan implying he was one. “Go ahead and get the helmet. I'll ride with you.”

Dylan's eyebrows shot up. “Are you sure? You don't have to. I won't be offended.”

“I'm sure. Just... get it.” He turned to unlock his car and as Dylan watched, pulled a leather bomber jacket from out of the back seat.

Dylan wondered what had caused this turnaround, but decided he'd ponder the hows and whys later. Right now, he'd just be glad Sebastian was still willing to go at all. He ran to grab his spare helmet before Sebastian changed his mind.

By the time he returned, Sebastian had donned the brown leather jacket, and most of the remaining tension around him had faded. Dylan's breath caught at just how fucking sexy the man was.

He handed the helmet to him, then picked his own up off the seat and put it on. He swung a leg over the bike and cranked it, letting the power rumble through him. But that was nothing compared to the feel of Sebastian mounting the bike behind him, his body hard and warm and masculine. His arms crept tentatively around Dylan's waist as Dylan leaned forward and grasped the hand grips.

“Hang on,” he warned Sebastian. “This thing packs a punch when I accelerate.”

When they got out on the road and picked up speed, Sebastian leaned closer and closer, tucking in like a natural until he was draped over the top of Dylan, their bodies flush, his hard thighs cradling Dylan's ass, moving as one with Dylan and the bike.

Oh, shit.
Dylan gulped. What had he been thinking? With this kind of intimate contact, by the time they reached the bar, he was going to be so hot and horny there was no way he could hide it. Hell, maybe he didn't want to hide it.

He let the speed and adrenaline course through him like a junkie high on crack. Except this was infinitely better. He began to wish they could bypass the bar completely and just ride on into the night like this. But eventually the blinking green lights on the shamrock-shaped sign came into view and Dylan turned into the crowded parking lot of O'Keefe's.

How he managed to get off the bike he had no idea. He had a raging hard-on and didn't see any relief from it anytime soon. In spite of the mild day, the night air was cool, but Dylan yanked off his jacket anyway to carry it in front of him to hide the problem. He couldn't bring himself to look at Sebastian to see if he was having the same issue. He was afraid Sebastian wasn't, and if he wasn't, Dylan didn't want to know it because then he'd feel like a fool for having such an intense reaction to a man who didn't desire him back.

A live Irish band played on the small stage, and the place was packed— of course, it was Friday night. Dylan hadn't thought of that when he'd suggested coming here. They managed to get two seats together at the bar by sheer luck when a couple rose to leave just as he and Sebastian happened to be standing right next to them. They slid onto stools set so close together their shoulders and thighs brushed.

When they were seated, he finally let himself look and discovered Sebastian had his jacket off also. In the split second before he draped it across his lap, Dylan caught sight of the firm bulge at his groin beneath the khaki fabric. It wasn't until that moment, when relief and a heady buzz filled him, that he realized just how much he'd wanted Sebastian to be feeling what he was feeling, and how disappointed he would have been if he wasn't.

“So the bike ride was good?” he said, barely able to hold back a grin.

Sebastian turned his head to look at him and, much to Dylan's astonishment, because it had never before been directed at him, a slow smile curved the man's lips and lit his eyes. “Yeah. It was good.”

“Better than a Harley?”

Sebastian shifted on his stool as if he were rearranging and having trouble finding a comfortable position. Dylan was right there with him in the same predicament.

“Better. It was... a rush. I can see why you like it.”

“Oh, yeah.”
I liked it even better with you on behind me.
He pressed his thigh a little closer to Sebastian's, and experienced a flare of heat in his already throbbing groin when Sebastian pressed back.

Their gazes met and held. The loud din around them made it hard to hear when they spoke, but right now, no words were necessary. There was no mistaking the interest conveyed in the warmth of Sebastian's eyes.

He looked more relaxed than Dylan had ever seen him— had ever seen him when they were together, he clarified. This was the easy-going man he'd watched with his customers, had seen laughing and talking to Joanie from the bakery, yet he'd never had the chance to experience it himself. He liked it. A lot.

But when the bartender, Frankie, approached and called Dylan by name, it was as if a spell had been broken. For some reason, Sebastian tensed up again and pulled away, his body suddenly radiating a clear “stay back” signal. As he and Frankie shook hands and said hello, Dylan felt Sebastian's irritated gaze on them. What was up with that? Was it because Frankie's bald pate and exposed arms jutting from the sleeves of his T-shirt sported heavy tattoos? Or because multiple earrings lined the curve of each of his ears? Or was it because Sebastian was jealous at Frankie's familiarity with him?

Wishful thinking on the last one, he was certain.

No, it was something else. They were right back to the same attitude Sebastian always displayed when he came into Dylan's shop.

“Who's your friend?” Frankie asked.

“This is Sebastian Keller. He runs the store next door to mine. Sebastian, Frankie Lynch, an old friend.”

Sebastian shook hands with the other man and made the appropriate and polite conversation, but Dylan felt tension crackling from him.

They ordered beer and hot wings, and after Frankie had popped the tops off the bottles and set them on the polished bar in front of them, then bustled away, Dylan glanced at Sebastian, wondering how to get back to where they were before Frankie had interrupted.

“Sorry about this place. I wasn't expecting it to be this crowded. Not an ideal location to talk.” Dylan almost had to shout to be heard over the music, voices, and laughter around them. It seemed they'd traded in the distractions at work for more of the same in even greater volume here.

Sebastian shrugged. Without looking at Dylan, and holding his beer bottle at the neck between long fingers, he took a swig from it.

Dylan drank from his as well, then, frustration boiling inside him, he set it down and faced Sebastian.

“If I've done something to piss you off I'm sorry. It seems like from the moment you met me I've rubbed you the wrong way. I'd be glad to try to fix whatever the problem is, but I can't do that if I don't know what I've done.”

Sebastian's fingers tightened around the bottle. He took another swallow. Then he set the bottle on the bar, aligning it exactly center of the cardboard coaster. “I appreciate... this.” Still not looking at Dylan, he swept a hand around to indicate the bar and setting. “What you're trying to do here, giving us a chance to get to know each other. But this just isn't going to work.” He dug in his back pocket for his wallet, pulled out some bills and tossed them on the bar, then stood.

Pulse pounding, seeing his shot at having
something
with Sebastian besides the occasional hostile encounter at work about to slip away, he put a hand on Sebastian's arm to stop him. “Don't go. Stay. Please. Or if you want, we can go somewhere else. Somewhere quieter where we can really talk.”

Sebastian gazed down at him, the troubled look he'd worn earlier in the night once again on his face. Like he was torn and vulnerable.

Dylan wanted to reach up, smooth the troubled lines between his eyes, cup his cheek, and kiss the man to make it better.

Something shifted in his chest at that realization. Damn it, he really cared why Sebastian didn't want to give him a chance. This wasn't just some pick-up with the ultimate goal being a good fuck for the night. In spite of his prickly personality, Dylan really liked this guy. Liked everything he'd seen about him as he'd watched him with other people. He wanted Sebastian to act with him like he acted with everyone else, wanted to have that sexy smile focused on him, wanted to see laughter and desire in his eyes directed at him. He wanted Sebastian to like him as much as he liked Sebastian.