Chapter 8
T HE SUN STREAMING through Daniel’s bedroom window the following morning had him rolling to face the wall, much as he had when he’d been a boy. He plumped the pillow up under his head and thought back to last night and Brantley.
Fuck, had he really yelled at the guy and then left without so much as a kiss? So not what he’d initially had in mind.
Okay, so maybe he’d imagined a few yelling matches, but they’d all generally ended with Brantley under him in a bed and apologizing for having been such a selfish asshole all those years ago.
Never in his reunion fantasies had he had Brantley Hayes within reach, his mouth poised for the taking, and then him freaking the fuck out about their past and telling the sexy professor not to touch him.
Motherfucker.
He reached beneath the sheet and pressed a hand against his boxers, where his morning erection was begging for release, but he wasn’t going to jack himself off when the one he really wanted to do it was just down the fucking beach.
Rolling to his back, he placed his hands behind his head and thought about his and Brantley’s conversation the night before. Was he really contemplating staying with him? As in living in his house for the next however many days?
He closed his eyes and allowed himself to think about that for a moment.
Living with Brantley. Fuck , that right there was fantasy inspiring.
He’d wanted nothing more back in the day than to wake up with Brantley wrapped around him in some capacity, and if he was honest, he still wanted that. The only problem was?—
“Finn, you up yet?”
His mother.
The best way to kill any kind of fantasy.
Shoving his sheet aside, he pulled a shirt on and made his way down the hall, just as he had the day before.
He was running through a list of plausible excuses as to why he would want to stay somewhere other than at home with his family on his vacation, when he came around the corner and saw Brantley fucking Hayes sitting at his mother’s breakfast nook.
“Oh, good. There you are,” she said before he could back the fuck up, hightail his ass into his room, and at least check his goddamn hair.
What the hell is he doing here? was the only thought running through his head when Brantley faced him. Damn it , if his mother was a surefire way to kill any kind of fantasy, one look from Brantley guaranteed a hard-on in— five, four, three, two ?—
“I’ll be right back.”
He was more than aware that bolting back into his bedroom was not the action of a self-assured man, but he wasn’t quite ready to explain to his mother why he was holding a frying pan over his groin.
When he got to his room, he slammed the door shut and leaned back against it. It was amazing that in the space of twenty-four hours, he felt as though he were fucking nineteen all over again.
He looked at his sorry reflection and scowled at himself. His short hair was a mess atop his head, and his day-old stubble gave him an unkempt appearance he never would’ve wanted Brantley to see.
Fuck this shit, he thought as he pressed his fingers to his forehead. Pull yourself together, man. You have guys eating out of your hand back in Chicago.
Lowering his arms, he stepped away from the door just as a knock sounded on it. Please don’t be Brantley, he thought, because he wasn’t sure he could resist fucking him against his bedroom door…
“Finn?”
Oh thank God. When he opened the door, his mother was looking up at him.
“Hey, Ma.”
“You okay?” she asked, her eyes, the same color as his, scanning his face.
“Yeah. I didn’t realize we had company. That’s all.”
He thought he caught something in her eyes as they zoomed in on him, but then she laughed and it was gone.
“Oh, please. Professor Hayes?”
He went to open his mouth, but his mother placed a hand on his chest and he stopped short.
“He’s more like family.”
He tried not to read more into that than what she was saying, but as she continued to hold his gaze, he could’ve sworn a bead of sweat popped up on his forehead under her scrutiny.
“Is there something you want to tell me, Finn?”
Christ, how does she do that? Make me feel like a guilty kid in five seconds flat? “No.”
“No?”
He then gave her some of her own medicine by pinning her with his best tough lawyer face. “Is there something you think I want to tell you?”
She patted his chest. “I think there is, but that’s okay. Just remember how good I was when you first told me you were gay. You can always talk to me, okay?”
“Okay…” he said, pushing aside the niggling thought that she knew more than she was letting on. There was no way. None.
“My Finn, you always have been a stubborn nut to crack.”
“Takes one to know one.”
“Well, this nut needs to run to the grocery store, so you better put some clothes on. Professor Hayes is waiting for you in the kitchen.”
As she walked back down the hall, he asked, “Did he say what he wanted?”
When she glanced back at him, she smiled. “Yep. You.”
This time, he knew the expression on his face had to match the jolt of shock that had his heart thumping, because she grinned and then winked.
“Better not keep him waiting, son.” Then she disappeared out the front door.
So, he wants me, does he? Huh. Then maybe it was time to give his professor exactly what he was waiting for.
brANTLEY HAD HARDLY slept a wink after Daniel had left him the night before, and after speaking with Jordan about it at length, he’d plotted.
Well, he’d drunk copious amounts of wine and then devised a way that would guarantee that Daniel wouldn’t vanish the following morning—by showing up on his doorstep.
Seemed brilliant just a few minutes ago, but when Daniel had wandered out in his boxers and a white T-shirt, Brantley had been thankful Camille was standing on the other side of the kitchen counter. Because Daniel first thing out of bed and unkempt was too damn sexy for his own good.
Brantley was supposed to be thinking about how to get back into Daniel’s good graces, but when the man was standing there half-dressed, hell , it was all he could do not to chase him down the hall to his bedroom.
When the front door shut and the house plunged into silence, he knew Camille had left to go to Saturday morning shopping.
He wondered briefly if Katrina was in the house also, but he wasn’t about to go and look.
He was going to sit and wait for Daniel to come back out there, and then they would discuss, like the mature adults they were, what was happening between them.
He was dead set on that plan until Daniel strolled back into the kitchen dressed in long white linen pants and a forest-green polo shirt.
He’d obviously mussed his hair with a product to make it stick out in a way that looked professionally styled, and for the first time Brantley noticed a strap of leather Daniel had fastened around his left wrist. That was sexy . So goddamn sexy.
“Do you make it a habit to visit your students’ homes, professor?”
He tracked Daniel across the kitchen as he went to the fridge, and then pointed out, “Ex-student.”
Daniel tilted his head toward him. “I was talking about my sister.” And then he opened the fridge and reached inside.
When he straightened and unscrewed the lid of the orange juice to take a sip, Brantley was mesmerized until Daniel lowered the container and ran the back of his hand over his mouth.
Anything he had planned to talk about left his mind then, and instead, he went straight after the one thing he wanted most.
“Come and stay with me. One day, one week—I don’t care. Just say you’ll come and stay.”
Daniel placed the juice back in the fridge before bracing his hands on the counter. “All right. On one condition.”
Brantley was positive he would agree to just about anything, but he didn’t. He at least tried to keep some semblance of cool, and asked, “What’s that?”
“We both understand it’s for two weeks only. And no one’s going to be sleeping in the fucking spare room.”
The gravelly tone in which that statement was delivered in had been designed to tease and tantalize, because just that quickly, Brantley was aroused.
“Agreed?” Daniel asked.
“Just so we’re clear?—”
“If I stay, I want both of us in your bed. No fucking couch, no goddamn spare room, no blowup mattress on the floor. We’re both adults, and we’ve shared that bed many times before. Plus, I’m quite capable of saying no, as you found out last night. As are you, I assume.”
He wasn’t going to say no to that, so he inclined his head and accepted. “Okay. Deal.”
Brantley held his hand out to shake on it, but true to the man Daniel had become, he was going to do things his way.
He came around the kitchen counter until Brantley had to swivel on the stool to keep an eye on him.
When they were facing one another, Daniel stepped between Brantley’s legs and placed a hand on either side of him like the night before, and yeah …
that action alone had his pulse racing and his dick hardening.
“I don’t want to shake on it. But this afternoon, I will have the kiss I left without last night.”
Brantley couldn’t tear his eyes away from Daniel’s, and before he could stop himself, he asked, “What time will you be there?”
“Five,” Daniel said as he placed his lips against Brantley’s jaw and then kissed his way along it.
Fuck. He needed this man’s mouth on his, and he wasn’t sure he could wait until five.
“Why five?”
When Daniel raised his head and narrowed his eyes as if he didn’t understand why he was asking, Brantley quickly backtracked.
“Right. Not my business.” Then he put a hand to Daniel’s chest and gave him a slight shove.
When Daniel relented, Brantley stood and walked over to the back door. As he slid it open, he heard his name and turned back to see Daniel’s eyes trailing down over him.
“I’ll be there at five. And Brantley?”
“Hmm?”