Chapter 10 #2
As Daniel carried his suitcase inside, Brantley followed him through to the large, spacious room and then leaned against the doorjamb.
He couldn’t believe how much Daniel had changed since that first night back at Boyz.
It seemed another lifetime ago. But when he bent over to put the suitcase on the floor and his linen pants stretched over his tight ass, Brantley was pleased to note that some things never changed.
Caught up in his own musings, he didn’t notice that Daniel had straightened and asked him a question until he had faced him.
“Sorry—what was that?”
“I asked if you were having second thoughts. You had that look on your face.”
Brantley pushed off the door and walked farther into his room. “What look is that?”
“Pensive,” Daniel said, sliding his hands into his pockets. “So, if you’ve changed your?—”
“No.” Brantley chuckled. “That’s definitely not what I was thinking about.”
“No?”
“No. I was thinking about the first night you kissed me.”
Daniel’s eyes widened—he obviously hadn’t been expecting to hear that.
“What did you expect after the way you practically attacked me in the hallway? Not that I’m surprised. You’ve always been…”
“Be nice…” Daniel warned.
Brantley was extremely conscious of how this new side of Daniel, the edgier side, seemed to spike an instant fever in his blood. “I was just going to say that you’ve always gone after what you wanted. You’re very direct. That hasn’t changed, clearly.”
“Clearly,” Daniel agreed. Then he lowered his eyes down over Brantley and added, “Neither has what I want.”
Brantley hummed his agreement as he walked over to the chest of drawers in his room and opened one he’d emptied. “You can use this if you like.”
“Thanks,” Daniel said as he grabbed several pairs of shorts and shirts from his suitcase. After placing them in the drawer, he slid it shut.
Then Brantley heard himself asking, “Do you still like to dance?”
Daniel crouched over his case and then glanced over his shoulder at Brantley. “Sometimes. You?”
“I haven’t been in years. I’m a little old for?—”
“Are you serious?”
“No,” he said, trying to imagine going to one of those clubs now, at his age.
“You are not old.”
“So says the sexy thirty-year-old with the perfect body and the perfect hair.”
As Daniel stood, he threw the clothes in his hand on the bed they’d both been avoiding.
Then he reached out and cupped the side of Brantley’s neck.
He didn’t even try to resist as Daniel drew him forward.
Instead, he put both hands on Daniel’s chest and tilted his head up to meet the blazing eyes staring down at him.
“This thirty-year-old has wanted nothing more than to strip you naked since he saw you again. I plan to remind you every minute I’m here that you are just as sexy now as you were back then.
And Brantley? This time, it’s on my terms, and I’m going to blow your fucking mind.
So, every time you mention your age like it’s some kind of handicap, I’m going to set ten minutes on a fucking clock somewhere in this house and make you wait it out and think about it until I allow you to come. Do you understand?”
Brantley understood, all right, and so did his dick. Daniel wanted the control between them. He wanted what he hadn’t had back then, and Brantley was more than happy to give it to him.
He swiped his tongue over his lips, ran his hand up to touch Daniel’s, and whispered, “I understand.”
Daniel’s lips curved against his fingers, and he said, “Say it.”
Brantley knew that Daniel was remembering, just as he was, the night he’d finally given in and kissed his student.
“Kiss me, Finn.”
DANIEL SURVEYED THE crowd for his professor as he rolled his hips to the sensual beat of the music. In the last half-hour, he’d spotted Professor Hayes with a few different men, each of whom he had wanted to shove out of his way—until he’d realized what was going on.
His teacher was purposely situating himself so he could dance with the man he was with while letting his eyes find him, and fucking hell , it was such a damn turn-on to know he was watching that Daniel was barely able to keep himself decent.
After the first two guys, it turned into a kind of game between them. And he knew that the professor was aware, because if someone got in his eye line, he maneuvered himself so he could continue to eye-fuck Brantley while his dance partner draped himself all over him.
Somehow, though, Daniel had lost him with the last switch, and it was his turn to take a break anyway, so he climbed down from his spot and was about to head to the bar when he caught his teacher’s back in the crowd.
Knowing that if he didn’t do this now, he never would, Daniel shoved his way through the sweat-slicked bodies, and when he was within touching distance, he clamped his hand down on Professor Hayes’s wrist. As he faced Daniel, his eyes went to the hand he had on him, and Daniel quickly removed his fingers.
The music was loud, and the only way he’d hear anything was if they got closer, so he took another step until the material of Professor Hayes’s jeans was pressed against his naked legs.
He sucked his lower lip between his teeth and raised his eyebrow, daring his teacher to make the next move, and a fucking thrill raced down his spine when two hands landed on his hips.
Picking up the beat, Daniel closed his eyes and rocked against the man now moving with him.
The hands on his waist slid around to his ass and drew him in so his cock was now grinding against the hard-as-fuck one in his professor’s jeans.
Then Daniel groaned, looped his arms around Brantley’s neck, and really began to move.
Every fucking fantasy he’d had about his teacher was swirling through his mind as he ground his hips against the ones currently thrusting in time with his, and when he opened his eyes and found his professor’s, he lowered his head and whispered, “Finn…say it.”
He daringly flicked his tongue over his teacher’s ear, and his balls tightened when the fingers on his ass flexed and practically slipped between his cheeks.
“Say it,” he demanded again, wanting to hear Brantley say his name, and more than aware that he was close to begging.
Then Professor Hayes turned his head and tipped his face up to trace his tongue along his jaw, and Daniel’s breath got lodged somewhere in his throat.
Fuck, this was the hottest fucking thing he’d ever done, and his professor hadn’t even kissed him yet. But when that teasing mouth found his ear, Professor Hayes whispered, “Kiss me, Finn .”
And nothing could’ve stopped him.
DANIEL SAMPLED brANTLEY’S lips as his eyes slid shut and he let every part of the experience take him over.
The first kiss out in the hall had been like an attack.
He’d wanted to stamp his ownership back on Brantley before they went any further with whatever this was.
Even if it was for only a day, a week, or two, he wanted to be crystal fucking clear that while he was there in Brantley’s bed, no one else would be.
This kiss, however, was a totally different experience.
Brantley’s fingers glided up the back of his neck and then played with his hair as Daniel tangled his tongue with his.
When he sucked on it, the groan that rumbled out of Brantley was worth every second of the ravenous way he was devouring him.
He ran one of his hands through Brantley’s thick hair and then twisted his fingers into it to pull him back a little. When he was looking up at him with swollen lips and heavy eyelids, Daniel told him, “You are still the sexiest man I’ve ever seen. Don’t doubt that. Not ever. Okay?”
Brantley slowly nodded. “Mhmm. Okay.”
“Plus, I don’t look the same either. I mean, look at this haircut, and you still like me.” As he bumped his pelvis against Brantley’s, he grinned and then released him.
“I think it looks very…sophisticated.”
“My mother thinks I look ‘city.’”
“You do. But that’s not a bad thing.”
“Sure it isn’t.” Daniel laughed.
“Well,” Brantley said, taking a much-needed step back, “are you hungry?”
“Fuck yes. I’m starved.”
“And there is my Finn.”
That comment had Daniel’s laugh coming to an abrupt end.
Because the truth of the matter was that he wasn’t his Finn, not anymore.
And it was best that the two of them understood that from the very beginning and didn’t try to delude themselves into believing that this could be anything other than what it was.
Two weeks. And nothing more.