Chapter 4 #2
Christ . The potent man who had just been led away by Camille Finley was in no way, shape, or form the same young man he remembered.
Oh, no… Daniel Finley , my Finn, had most definitely changed.
And damn, if he’d been nervous before, he couldn’t deny the way his pulse was now thrumming.
Daniel had grown into, quite possibly, the sexiest man he’d ever laid eyes on.
Tall— yes.
Muscular— yes.
And that short hair— God, yes.
When did he do that?
Generally, he wasn’t the type to go weak-kneed over a good-looking guy, but when his brain had finally caught up and realized that the man staring up at him was Daniel… Damn , it was all he could do not to brace himself against the railing.
There was no mistaking those amber eyes, though, and there was certainly no way to misinterpret the hungry way they’d devoured him as he remained paralyzed beside his friend.
The young man who had left all those years ago was nowhere to be seen.
Oh, there were hints of him in the confident adult down on the beach, but not much.
Age had amplified all of Daniel’s assets to maximum potential, and that final look he’d aimed up at Brantley made him more than grateful he’d decided to wear the loose shirt currently covering his arousal.
Jesus, I need another drink.
“Yeah, okay. I totally get the nerves now.”
“You’re not helping, Jordan. Not one little bit.”
“Sorry. But when you said he was back, I figured we were going to see the guy with the long hair and puppy-dog eyes for you. But damn, Brantley.” Jordan laughed as they both turned away from the scene below. “Those were not puppy-dog eyes. They were fuck-me eyes if ever I’ve seen them.”
Brantley adjusted the collar of his shirt, even though two buttons were open and it didn’t actually need it. Some habits died hard. “Fuck.”
“Cursing, too, huh? You are in a state.” Jordan chuckled as he leaned over and bumped shoulders with him. “I understand the nerves, but not the problem.”
When Brantley turned, his friend’s eyebrow winged up.
“What? I don’t. He’s an adult—a very fucking hot one, but still an adult. You’re also of age …so, what’s the problem? Other than the intimidation factor? I mean, ooh boy, that man is all kinds of intense.”
“I don’t know. I was nervous before about the age thing and how I look, and shit, he’s so—” Brantley paused. “The problem is, he’s thirty and I’m?—”
“Thirty-nine. Who gives a shit?”
Ugh , he was being an idiot. A self-conscious, insecure idiot. He never doubted himself—not ever. But the last time he was near Daniel in any kind of capacity, including an intimate one, had been years ago. He wasn’t foolish enough to think he hadn’t changed.
He had silver peppering his hair now, and a sprinkling of it had appeared on his chest. And though he was an avid runner and still made sure to log his beach mileage each morning, he was well aware that he wasn’t as young as he used to be.
Apparently his insecurities didn’t extend to his overeager cock, though. It didn’t seem to give a damn what age he or Daniel were. From the first time he’d seen Daniel, it had wanted him.
“I need another drink. Something stronger than this.”
Jordan patted him on the back and grinned. “Cheer up, would you? I’d be doing cartwheels if someone looked at me the way he just did you.”
Brantley didn’t bother with a retort. He was too busy trying to push aside the memory of that look so he could get his wayward dick under control. It wouldn’t do him any good to run into Camille in such a state.
He headed inside through the back sliding door and over to the kitchen, where the sink had been converted into two ice buckets of sorts. They were piled high and had two silver scoops shoved into the cubes.
Barbecues by the beach. They always made it feel as if summer were really there, even if he’d spent the last few somewhat isolated.
He grabbed one of the red plastic cups on the kitchen counter and then reached for a scoop. As he dug into the ice with a little more force than necessary, he stared out the window.
Caught up in his thoughts, he didn’t hear anyone behind him until someone asked, “Would you mind filling one for me while you’re at it?”
As the velvety voice made its way up his spine, Brantley tightened his fingers around the scoop.
He knew without looking who that voice belonged to, but that didn’t stop him from slowly pivoting toward the man who was now seated on the opposite side of the counter.
Daniel’s arms were casually resting on the marble, and Brantley ordered himself not to reach out and touch him.
“Sure,” he managed, and he was pretty damn proud of himself when he grabbed a second cup and his hand didn’t shake.
“I see you got my note,” Daniel said.
When Brantley locked gazes with him, he forced himself to swallow and then speak. “I see that you got mine.”
“I did.”
As Daniel’s short response lingered between them, Brantley placed the cup full of ice down.
“You look…different,” he said, and then he cursed his own damn tongue. He hadn’t wanted to say that . He’d wanted to tell Daniel something along the lines of how good he looked, that he was thrilled he was back, but nothing was coming out.
When Daniel slid off the stool and walked his way, Brantley’s eyes flicked out to the crowd gathered on the balcony before coming back to the man closing in on him. The man he’d fallen asleep inside of so many times that he’d lost count.
“A lot’s changed,” Daniel told him before stopping to rest his hip against the counter, effectively blocking Brantley’s way out of the kitchen. “ I’ve changed. But I’m pleased as hell to see that you haven’t.”
“Oh God,” Brantley whispered, unable to fathom that Daniel was standing right there in front of him—within touching distance. “Finn?—”
“You wanted me here,” Daniel interrupted, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket.
Brantley’s gaze shifted to the envelope he’d sent several weeks ago as Daniel ran his finger along the edge of the rectangle.
His erection pounded behind the zipper of his shorts as if though those fingers were stroking him, and when the side of Daniel’s mouth pulled into a cocky grin, Brantley cleared his throat.
The tension in the air was thick, and this new arrogance Daniel was throwing off was both sexy and, as Jordan had pointed out, intimidating.
“You wanted me here,” Daniel said again. “Well, I’m here. Now what?”
If that wasn’t the understatement of the century, Brantley wasn’t sure what was. Daniel was definitely there in all of his six-foot-two glory.
Trying for casual, he decided to stick with the truth. That way, he wouldn’t get in trouble. “You’re looking good, Finn.” There—that was the truth. Just slightly understated.
The roguish smile that curved Daniel’s mouth had Brantley taking a step back until his ass hit the counter.
“Just good?” Daniel asked, casual as you please.
Brantley couldn’t help the way his lips twitched at Daniel’s attitude. As a young man, he had been cocky in an understated way. At thirty, he was extremely aware of his appeal—and rightly so.
It was exciting.
It was arousing.
And it was having the exact effect Daniel was intending. Brantley was hard as a fucking rock and Daniel hadn’t even touched him.
“Better than good. But I think you already know that.” His gaze darted to the door again and then back to Daniel, who’d taken another step forward. God, he was so close now.
“It doesn’t matter what I think. I want to know what you think.”
“I think you’re?—”
Daniel placed a hand on the sink behind him, bringing them close enough that should Brantley move a fraction of an inch, he could kiss the guy.
“Making you nervous?”
Brantley turned his head, and when their eyes met, a shiver raced down his spine at the desire swirling in the golden ones holding him in place. “No, Finn. You don’t make me nervous.”
One of Daniel’s eyebrows arched, and Brantley was surprised by how much he wanted to smooth his finger over it.
“No?”
“No.”
“Then what is it? Why do you keep looking at the doors?”
He glanced over to them again, but when they remained suspiciously closed, he looked back to Daniel. “Did you lock them?”
“Yes. I didn’t want our little reunion to be interrupted. I didn’t think you would either. Now, stop avoiding my question.”
“I’m not avoiding it. I answered you.”
“You did. But how about you tell me the truth . Am I making you nervous?”
The underlying hostility in those words sparked a tiny slither of unease as Brantley angled his head and caught Daniel’s eyes in a direct and daring stare. “Why? Is that your goal, Finn? Is that why you’re here?”
When Daniel’s other hand covered his fingers that were holding the cup, Brantley barely held back the groan that was bubbling to the surface.
Damn , he’d missed him. And he’d missed being touched.
“No. I’m here because you told me to come home. But we both know I won’t truly be home until I’m back between your sheets, professor.”
Brantley lost the battle then, and the groan that had been threatening to escape slipped free. Daniel plucked the cup from his hands and tossed it onto the counter beside them before he boxed him in against the sink.
“Fuck. I’ve missed that sound,” Daniel confessed, his breath raspy and low. “I’ve dreamed about it too many times to count. And my goal, since you asked, is to finally have what I always wanted.”
“And that is?” Brantley asked, refusing to back down.
“You. In all the ways I ever imagined having you. And I have a lot of fucking years’ worth of imagination.”
Brantley shoved his hands into his pockets to keep from grabbing the man taunting him. But it was hard, and oh so tempting to give in.
“That’s rather presumptuous, isn’t it? We haven’t seen each other for?—”
“Seven years. I’m well aware of how long it’s been since you sent me away. But I’m also aware of the way your cheeks get flushed and your eyes darken when you want to get naked with me.”
Brantley licked his lips and let his gaze lower to Daniel’s mouth. It was pulled into a firm line that relayed the hint of annoyance he kept hearing, and while one part of his brain was flashing warning signs, the side that had waited and wanted Daniel to come home chose to ignore it.
“Tell me you don’t want it,” Daniel said. “Tell me you’re not thinking about all the things I could be doing to you if this house wasn’t full to fucking capacity with half the neighborhood.”
Brantley opened his mouth to do just that, but then he shut it again.
There was no way he could stop himself from imagining all the illicit things Daniel was alluding to.
Knowing he needed to talk, though, or he’d end up doing something he shouldn’t in Daniel’s mother’s house, he said, “They’re just here to welcome you home. ”
“I don’t give a fuck if they’re here to give me a million dollars. I want to see you. Alone.”
Well, damn . If that didn’t do wonders for his ego, nothing would.
“Go home, professor.”
The words momentarily shocked Brantley, but then he saw the challenge in Daniel’s eyes, and the order and the expectation that he’d do what he had been told sent a thrill straight to his balls.
Well, hadn’t the tables turned? Daniel had gotten bossy since he’d been gone, and Brantley apparently loved it.
“Go home, and I’ll be there within the hour.”