Chapter 18 Isaac
EIGHTEEN
ISAAC
The doorbell rings a little before seven.
I’ve been pacing the kitchen for the past fifteen minutes.
Taking Evan to Francisco’s sounded like a good idea on Tuesday morning, but now I’m having second thoughts.
It’s the perfect place for a date night if I want the world to know about Evan and me.
The atmosphere is romantic and it’s becoming more and more difficult to keep my hands off the man I love.
I’m afraid this secret is going to ruin us.
“Hey,” I greet with a smile I hope masks my inner turmoil.
“Hello.”
Evan follows me into the house. “Do you want a glass of wine or a beer before we leave?”
“Sure. Red wine if you have it.”
I pour us both a glass and hand one to Evan. For two people who rarely drank before we met, it’s becoming part of every date now. It’s usually only a glass or two, but definitely a change from the norm.
“This is good. It’s different than the one we had with the steaks.”
“Yeah, that was a Pinot Noir. This is a Malbec.”
“I like it.”
“I thought I’d call for a car so I can buy my boyfriend a bottle of wine at my favorite restaurant.
” I lean in and kiss him for several seconds before breaking the kiss and picking up my phone from the counter.
“I made a reservation for seven forty-five, so I’ll go ahead and call the car while we enjoy our wine. ”
I pull up my app and once I secure a car, I lead Evan to the couch. “How was your day?” I ask but start kissing him again before he can answer. When he breaks the kiss, I chuckle. “Sorry. I can’t get enough of you.”
“I’m okay with that.” He winks and takes a sip of his wine. “To answer your question, my day was good. How was practice?”
“Not bad. My workout this morning was more intense than practice.” I stare at Evan and his pupils darken at my implication.
“Intense? Why?” he croaks, his voice coming out a little higher than normal.
I clear my throat and take a sip of my wine. We’re not going to make it to dinner at this rate. “Let’s just say, I was a little worked up this morning even after a cold shower and taking care of… things.”
I stayed at Evan’s last night and we got a little hot and heavy this morning before I left for practice.
It was the best not sex I’ve had. It’s getting more and more difficult to stop myself.
I’m not going to push Evan to do something he’s not ready for, but I need him more than I’ve ever needed anyone.
Evan scoots closer and runs a hand from my knee to my crotch at an agonizingly slow pace. Anticipation rocks me and fire shoots through me when he rubs my hardening cock. “What kind of things?” he whispers.
My heart beats faster and my breath is heavy. Closing my eyes, I drop my head to the back of the couch. “You know what kind of things,” I barely get out.
My phone dings, alerting me the car is here. Fuck! Evan moves his hand, stands up, downs the rest of his wine all in one fluid motion as if he didn’t work me up to the point that a few more seconds would have made me need a change of clothes.
“Let’s go,” he calls, opening the door while I remain motionless on the couch. It takes another couple of minutes before I calm down enough to join him.
“You’ll pay for that,” I whisper as I lock the door. It’s a promise I made last Sunday, but never followed through on. This time, he’s not going to get away with it.
Once we’re settled in the back seat of the car, I feel more like myself. The restaurant is only a ten-minute drive, so we should arrive about five minutes early.
“Can I ask you a question, man?” the driver asks, looking at me through the rearview mirror.
“Sure,” I respond. This isn’t an unusual request. Actually, it is. Most people aren’t this respectful before invading my personal life.
“Are you Isaac Flores?”
“Yes.” No reason to lie. It will come back to bite me later.
“Cool. You played a damn good game last week. Three touchdowns. Awesome.”
“Thanks. Were you at the game?”
“I wish. I watched it at one of the bars near the stadium and then drove drunk fans home for two hours.” I don’t say anything else. I’m not sure how to respond to that. When I don’t say anything, he continues. “Guys’ night out or meeting a couple of hot dates?”
“Guys’ night out,” I answer absently.
“Nice. I bet you two will have hot chicks hanging all over you tonight.”
“Maybe.”
He snorts. “Maybe, my ass. Famous people get all the bitches. It unfair to rest of the population.”
Thankfully, we pull up in front of the restaurant and this ridiculous conversation ends. I add a tip to the app and thank him for the ride.
“Good evening, sir, do you have a reservation?” the hostess asks when we walk inside.
“Yes, Flores for two.”
She picks up a couple of menus, “Right this way, gentleman.” She leads us to a table near the back.
It’s enough out of the way that we won’t have people gawking at us if they recognize me, but not so secluded that it’s private or appears to outsiders that we’re on a romantic date.
The more time I spend with Evan, the more I hate feeling I need to keep us a secret.
It’s hard not to hold his hand every time I’m near him.
“Your waitress will be right with you,” the hostess states while handing us each a menu and a list of specials.
“Thank you,” Evan and I say at the same time.
Evan looks over the menu and I can’t help but watch him. He’s in awe. Francisco’s is impressive from the expensive, wooden features, gold-etched fixtures, and white-linen tablecloths to the impressive wine list and variety of dinner and dessert options.
“They are known for their steaks and seafood, but everything is delicious, especially their desserts.”
“How can I possibly choose?”
“I’m getting the bluefin tuna. It pairs well with their signature pinot noir,” I tell him, referring to the list of Francisco’s wine. The owners also have a winery in France.
“I’m thinking about getting this blue-cheese-encrusted filet.”
“It’s phenomenal and will go well with the pinot. If you’re interested, I’ll order us a bottle.”
“That sounds perfect. I want to taste your tuna if you don’t mind,” he sounds skeptical like he shouldn’t have asked for a taste of my food.
“Bite for a bite,” I agree.
“What?”
“It’s something we did as a family when I was a kid. We couldn’t afford to eat out often, so when we did, it was a treat. All five of us would order something different and trade a bite for a bite with each other so we could taste all the dishes.”
“Bite for a bite,” he repeats. “I like it. Deal.”
After we order and have our bottle of wine, we fall into easy conversation.
Evan is completely relaxed and seems genuinely happy.
It’s nice to see him this way. I was worried about him after he told me about his asshole ex earlier this week.
I’d like to get my hands on that jerk. How can anyone treat Evan that way?
He’s a wonderful man and deserves to be treated like a prince or maybe a king.
“Oh, hey, I forgot to tell you, my parents are coming to visit in a few days. They called this morning and surprised me with the news. They’ll arrive on Wednesday and leave on Saturday.”
“Why aren’t they staying for the game?”
“They aren’t big football fans. They’ve been to a couple of games over the years, but it’s not their thing. I understand. Honestly, I didn’t care much for it until I started working at the stadium. Actually, I worked at the stadium in Rutherford for three years before I even watched a game on TV.”
“Are you kidding?”
“Nope. It just wasn’t something we did. Now, I love it.”
“Can you take any time off while they’re here?”
“Their plane doesn’t get in until after eight on Wednesday night, so I’m going to send a car to pick them up at the airport and bring them to the stadium. That way I can work late. Then I’m taking off Thursday and Friday, but I’ll be available if something major comes up that Hope can’t handle.”
“Good. I’m glad you can spend time with them.”
“Do you want to meet them? It’s fine if you’re not ready. I hate not to see you for three days, but I know you’re not comfortable telling people about…” he trails off, waving his hand between us.
I sit back in my chair and take a long sip from my glass of wine.
“I would love to meet them, but I’m not sure I’m ready for them to know about us.” Evan’s face drops. Damn. The last thing I want to do is hurt him. I should have chosen my words more carefully.
“Okay,” he speaks barely above a whisper.
“Evan, please understand. What if they tell someone?”
“They won’t.”
“I’m sure they won’t, but I… I’m… scared.”
“I know you are, and I respect how you feel. We don’t have to tell them, but I can’t promise my mom won’t figure it out.”
“Can I think about it?”
“Of course.”
The rest of dinner is only slightly awkward. Good job, Isaac. Way to ruin a perfect evening. You need to get over yourself or you’re going to lose the best thing that’s ever happened to you, I silently chastise myself.
An hour later, we’re back home, relaxing on the couch with another glass of wine. I’ve had too much and I’m going to regret it in the morning. I rarely have this many drinks in one night even during the off season.
Evan is still on edge, and I don’t how to change the course of our night.
I’m afraid he’s going to choose to go home.
More than anything, I need him in my bed tonight.
I need to know we’re okay. I can handle another night without sex.
Hell, we don’t even have to kiss as long as he snuggles close, and I can hold him in my arms.
Without a word, Evan takes my glass and sets it on the table next to his.
He shocks me when he straddles me. He slides one hand along my jaw then follows it with small kisses.
Instead of kissing my lips, he continues peppering kisses down my neck then up to my ear, tangling one hand in my hair.
I wrap my hands around him, pulling him closer.
He crashes his lips against mine, pushing his tongue into my mouth, his kiss is urgent and needy.
He pulls back long enough to take off my shirt then his own before his mouth is on mine again.
He pushes against me, and the contact sends shock waves rolling through me.
“I want you,” he mumbles against my lips. It takes a second for my brain to function and process his words. My eyes go wide. Before I have a chance to respond, he rasps, “Take me.”
With those words, I stand up and Evan wraps his legs around me. I carry him to my bed and drop him onto the soft mattress, hovering over him.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I need you inside me. I love you, Isaac, and I can’t wait another minute to make love to you.”
I stand up long enough to take the rest of my clothes off and grab the lube and a condom from the dresser. When I turn back to Evan, he’s naked and on his back a little further up on the bed.
“Gorgeous,” I growl. I toss the lube and condom on the bed and kneel between his legs, leaning down to kiss him.
Slowly, I lick down his chest over one nipple, sucking on it then the other before making my way down to his tip.
I lick the drop of pre-cum and harden more at the sound that escapes Evan, a sound somewhere between pleasure and pain.
I get it. My dick is painfully hard right now.
Sitting back, I squeeze lube on my fingers and carefully work one into Evan.
“Oh, god,” he moans.
“Told you, you’d call me god,” I tease. His eyes darken and a smile plays at his lips, but it turns into another moan when I push a second finger inside.
“Please,” he begs. “I need you. Now.”
I roll on the condom and coat my sheathed dick with lube. I never take my eyes off Evan’s as I slowly push inside, giving him time to adjust and me a minute to get my composure.
“Move. Please.” His words come out gravelly and barely audible. When I don’t move, Evan grabs my ass and pulls me deeper into him. I lean down and kiss him before pulling out a little and slamming into him.
“Fuck, yeah,” he groans.
Need takes over and I start moving, slow at first, but every noise Evan makes goes straight to my dick, causing me to move faster and faster.
He reaches down to stroke himself, but I push his hand away, grabbing both his wrists and pinning him to the bed.
Plowing into him harder and harder until I blow my load into the condom much too soon.
“Fuck. That. Was. Hot,” Evan gasps between breaths. I pull out of him and scoot down the bed enough to take him in my mouth. “Shit. Isaac. God that feels amazing.”
I move my mouth up and down his shaft several times, working him deeper into my throat. After several minutes, he taps my shoulder. I don’t bother stopping. He taps me again.
“Isaac, I’m gonna…” Without finishing the thought, he releases into my mouth. I swallow every drop, slowly releasing him and falling down beside him.
“That was perfect. Holy shit, you’re good,” I tell him. He smiles at me, wrapping an arm around me and pulling the comforter over us. Home. This is where I belong. “I love you, Evan.”
He responds with a quiet snore. I wore my baby out.