Chapter Sixteen
Sam was perched on the bench in the workshop with his legs hooked around the backs of Connor’s thighs.
Connor had hoisted him up and deposited him there, canceling out their height difference, which proved more conducive to kissing.
Sam wasn’t sure how long they’d been at it—time took on a fuzzy quality when Connor got his hands on him.
Long enough that he wasn’t sure what to enter in his time sheet for the gap the activity presented in his workday.
Necking with the boss... The thought gave him a delicious thrill.
Over the week, Sam found himself increasingly preoccupied with three things: thinking about kissing Connor, finding opportunities to kiss Connor, and wondering when he could kiss him again.
While the force of those thoughts made him nervous, that was as far as Sam had allowed himself to go.
He needed to practice taking it slow and not rush into anything he couldn’t handle.
Connor had proven as easygoing as he’d been during Sam’s first days on the job. When Sam wavered at the suggestion of a date, Connor had stepped back and left the ball in his court. Though with how much they were making out at work, a date seemed a tame prospect by this point.
The workshop door was cracked open so they could hear the bell if anyone stopped by the office—namely Connor’s dad, a possibility so frightening that Sam broke away, flushed, his breathing shallow.
Connor used the opportunity to nuzzle against his neck, nipping his skin ever so lightly with his teeth and giving further fuel to the hard-on Sam was trying to suppress between his legs.
That was one line they’d drawn beneath their on-the-clock make-out sessions: nothing below the belt.
Even so, it was a wonder how easily Connor could get him worked up with nothing but kissing and heavy petting.
“I used to work with two people who got together in the office,” Sam said, hoping the shift in subject would give his body a chance to calm down.
“Oh?” Connor continued his merciless assault. His tongue found the curve of Sam’s ear and sent shivers running down his spine.
“Yeah. It turned into all sorts of drama. Especially when they split.”
That made Connor stop. He pulled back, and while the desire was still painted across his face, it was quickly succumbing to hesitation. “Is this a cautionary tale?”
“What? No!” Sam exclaimed. He hadn’t meant to spoil the mood. He’d said the first thing that popped into his head. “The power dynamics were pretty skewed. She was his assistant, and he was one of the company’s founders. Plus he was old enough to be her father.”
“I guess that’s why HR departments exist.”
“I think HR did get involved in the end.” Sam fell silent. “I’ve put something in your head now, haven’t I?”
“Most definitely.” Connor brought Sam’s hand to his mouth and kissed the pads of his fingers. “What would you say to ditching office politics and going somewhere, just the two of us?”
Sam’s stomach gave a lurch of excitement. “I’m listening.”
Connor licked his lips as if suddenly nervous. “They’re running a classic film series at the Rivoli in Hastings. I think tonight it’s Cleopatra. I don’t know how you feel about Liz Taylor, but I hear you’re a bit of a movie buff. We could grab something to eat afterward.”
Sam wondered how long Connor had wanted to ask him. He must have been looking out for an activity he thought Sam would like. Not once in the past few days of cautious discovery had Connor shown he was anything but the sweet and thoughtful man Sam knew him to be. A man he could trust.
Sam smiled. “I’d like that.”
“Yeah?” Connor beamed. “Okay, great. I can pick you up after work.” He lifted Sam down from the bench and dropped one last kiss on his forehead. “You’d better get out of here before I get carried away.”
“Before you get carried away?” Sam adjusted the front of his pants. “What am I supposed to do with this?”
They both stared down at his barely concealed erection.
Connor’s eyes twinkled. “Walk it off, sport.”
“Yes, boss,” Sam teased.
“No,” Connor warned, shaking his head emphatically. “We’re not making that a thing.”
“Okay, the scene with the basket?” Sam pressed one hand to his heart while the other held half his sandwich aloft. “I was moved,” he declared, taking a bite of his sandwich and chewing. “Utterly moved.”
After the movie, they had headed to a café near the theater and found a table outside on the patio. The place was cozy even with the evening chill, and the ceiling of fairy lights hanging overhead added to the whimsy.
Connor took a swig of his beer. “I know, right? I saw the movie as a kid and always remembered that part. I had no idea it would be so popular, though.” Despite arriving early, they’d found the theater packed and had been lucky to get seats. Connor hadn’t realized it was such a buzzy event.
“Lizzie does draw a crowd.” Sam gave him a sidelong glance. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but tonight is the gayest I’ve seen you.”
“Was it the Skittles?” They’d devoured a giant family-sized bag Connor had bought at the concession stand.
Sam snorted. “No. Cleopatra, Elizabeth Taylor. It was a bold choice. I guess you always seem a bit more subdued in town. How much of that is you, and how much of it is you passing?”
A spike pierced Connor’s chest. “Ouch.”
Sam paled. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No... uh...”
“I’ve just been thinking a lot about your situation.”
“My situation?” Connor echoed, trying not to sound defensive.
“What does this look like going forward? Would we only be together in Hastings or Grand Island? Or could we walk around Oakdale holding hands?”
Connor stared down at his beer, his mind churning. He didn’t have an answer. He couldn’t tell everyone without telling his father, and he was too afraid to do that. After all he’d done to disappoint the man, this would be the final nail in the coffin.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.
He felt the warmth of Sam’s hand on his knee under the table. “No, I am. You’ve been so patient with me, and here I am pushing.”
“But you’re right,” Connor admitted, heavy with shame. “It’s not fair to expect you to hide.”
Sam shrugged and released Connor’s knee. “Hiding has its perks. I got to fulfill my lifelong dream of making out in a movie theater.”
Connor grinned. He’d finally figured out what the closing credits were there for. It was the first time he’d had a reason to stay all the way to the end.
“So, you’re big on music, almost a decade behind on television,” Sam said, changing course. “Where do you stand on movies?”
Connor pursed his lips. “The older, the better. I want to see the idea before it became a trope.”
“A purist. Why am I not surprised?”
“Less of a purist and more of an archivist. I blame my dad. He refused to watch anything but MGM or ESPN when I was growing up. I had to pick between classic films and sports. Anyway, I feel like movies today are too flashy. Too many explosions and car chases.”
“Oh my God, you’re a secret septuagenarian.”
Connor held up his hands. “Guilty as charged. What about you?”
“I used to watch movies all the time, everything from rom-coms to thrillers. But my favorites were more out of left field—quirky stories with an obscure cast. I guess life got too busy, because I haven’t gone to see a film in the longest time.
I’m completely out of touch with what’s popular these days. ”
“You’re not missing much. Think overhyped, predictable reboots.”
“Oh, the humanity!” Sam picked up his napkin and brushed the crumbs from his fingers.
Connor took another sip of beer and tried not to think about how nice it was to be here with Sam. They could be talking about the Shanghai Stock Exchange, and it would still be the best night out he’d had in forever.
“Did you know Brian’s working on a graphic novel?” Sam asked.
“The Chevalier Chronicles? Yeah, he’s shown me a couple pages. It’s neat.”
“He was telling me it helps him to have a project to work on. My mom’s got this whole setup at home where she makes these beaded handbags and sells them online.
Not because she needs the money but because she gets a kick out of it.
” Sam looked reflective. “I don’t even know the last time I did something creative for fun.
Anyway, it got me thinking, maybe I should start a project of my own. ”
“Like the screenplay?”
Sam let out an embarrassed laugh. “How do you know about that?”
“Brian told me. Said you guys worked on it back in the day.”
Sam’s eyes widened. “Please don’t tell me he showed it to you.”
“No, but now I’m intrigued.” Connor waggled his eyebrows. “Is it raunchy?”
“Ugh, no, just incredibly cringeworthy. I’d never live it down.” Sam screwed up his face. “Think Donnie Darko meets Kill Bill.”
“I don’t even know how to unpack that.”
Sam burst out laughing and covered his mouth with his hand. “Neither do I—gory, psychological, fewer bunny ears. It was of a place and time. But it was fun to write. We worked out the general plot and then each wrote different sections at a time.”
“Well, I think it’s a great idea. And I get the sentiment.
Trivia’s like that for me. I was such a dunce at school that learning stuff—even inane, stupid facts—kind of makes me feel smart.
I know that’s dumb, but for some reason, it helps when life feels pretty blah.
” Connor noticed Sam looking at him with a strange expression and felt immediately self-conscious. “What?”
“Nothing. You’re a real enigma, Connor Finnegan.”
“Why, thank you.” Connor lifted the bottle of beer to his mouth and knocked it back to hide his nerves. “You said you kind of fell into marketing. Is that what you really wanted to do—make movies?”
Sam glanced over at the couple seated beside them, drinking coffee.
“I don’t know. Back then, I just wanted to get the fuck out of Oakdale.
A degree in business seemed like a sure bet.
Would I have made the same choice if things had been different?
I’m not sure.” He paused. “I don’t think I’ve ever said that out loud.
It’s always been this murky feeling I didn’t have words for. ”
Connor knew what he meant. He felt a sudden closeness to Sam; they were more alike than he’d realized. “I’m not sure I would have become an electrician if I’d had my shit together.”
Sam’s mouth quirked into a grin. “Is it weird that I think it suits you?”
Connor chuckled. “I mean, it’s not that I don’t like the job. It’s kind of grown on me.”
Sam cleared his throat and looked down at the remains of the sandwich abandoned on his plate. “Do you want to go somewhere?”
“What were you thinking—ice cream?”
Sam gave him a shy smile. “Maybe your place?”
Connor swallowed hard and tried to keep his face neutral despite the pounding in his chest. “Yeah, sure.” He raised an arm to flag down the server for the bill.
Ice cream could wait.
They made the drive back to Oakdale in record time, and after a brief segue of standing around Connor’s kitchen, making small talk and pretending they both didn’t know what they really wanted to be doing, Sam had taken Connor’s hand, and they’d stumbled into the bedroom.
Lying on the bed, Connor kissed Sam’s cheek, his chin, the curve of his ear. “What are you into?” he asked, his voice thick with want.
Pressed against him, Sam could feel the firm bulge of Connor’s erection beneath his pants. Connor always seemed to operate on such an even keel. Sam hadn’t realized how much he’d been holding back.
He began to panic. This was the furthest they’d gotten, and he wanted to make sure Connor was happy—that he didn’t disappoint him.
But he hadn’t been able to get a read on Connor sexually.
He could only go off his experience of what someone like Connor—physically imposing, straight talking, confident—would want.
“You can choke me. Just don’t spit in my mouth.” Sam figured anything else, he could handle.
Connor froze and lifted his head to look at him. “Uh, I don’t think I’m up for that.”
Sam felt his skin burn.
Connor gave him a small smile. “I meant more like giving or receiving or neither, because that’s cool as well.”
Sam had never had to spell it out before. Usually things got started, and he just followed the other guy’s cues. “I don’t know why you’re confused,” he scoffed, trying to displace some of his own embarrassment. “It’s not like I give off dom top vibes.”
“I don’t really do labels,” Connor said gently. “Or make assumptions. That’s why I’m asking.”
They both sat up, suddenly awkward.
“I think I should go,” Sam said, turning away.
“No, Sam, wait.” Connor moved to wrap him in a hug, throwing Sam off guard.
Pressed against Connor’s chest, Sam could hear the galloping thump of his heartbeat.
“Bear with me, okay? I don’t want to mess this up,” Connor murmured into his hair.
“I can barely get over the fact that you’re here right now.
We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. ”
Sam pulled back with a snort. “Hasn’t exactly stopped people before.”
Connor frowned. “I’m not those people.” He stroked Sam’s cheek then slid his hand along Sam’s shoulder, massaging his neck. “What do you like your partners to do?”
Sam didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t remember ever asking someone to do something except maybe stop, and even then, it would have come long after he’d wanted it to. He felt a curl of humiliation. All this time, was I doing it wrong? Is that why sex always felt so fraught?
Sam had arrived at college to discover the guys there were light years ahead of him.
Until then, he’d never even held hands or kissed—if you didn’t count Plimmerton.
It was one more small-town badge of honor he was desperate to be rid of, so instead of deciding whether he was ready, Sam had rushed to catch up.
His first time was horrible. Not wanting to seem like a complete rube, he’d avoided telling the man he was a virgin, but it must have been clear from Sam’s obvious discomfort.
Instead of coaching him along, the guy had simply powered through to finish.
Sam had gotten better at the physical part, and it wasn’t as if he didn’t enjoy himself—he liked touching and being touched, but there was this disconnect, this wall between how he felt and what he permitted.
He’d equated desirability with being down for whatever and become so good at pretending he was that he’d almost convinced himself.
“Hey.”
Sam looked up, and Connor’s blue eyes crinkled with kindness.
“No stress. Kissing’s good. Kissing you is amazing.” Connor moved a hand behind Sam’s neck and lowered him back down onto the bed. “Let’s just do that.”
Sam nodded, and Connor’s mouth found his once again. A warm buzz spread down his chest to his toes, wiping him clean.