Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Rory
“You own a suit.” Marshall greeted me at his apartment door with a perplexed expression. I’d offered to drive, mainly to have an excuse to return here with him after the fundraiser.
“You look great.” Marshall locked the apartment door and followed me down the stairs. He’d worn his navy suit as requested, but he’d added a jaunty bowtie with a blue gradient print.
“Thanks. So do you.” I felt oddly stiff and formal. Since the elevator incident, we’d hung out a few more times for TV watching with a side of kissing and had also eaten lunch together.
“Is it weird that we’ve slept next to each other, but this is our first real date?” Marshall asked the same question running through my own head.
“A little,” I agreed, then brightened as I unlocked my car. “But I like doing things out of order. Like eating dessert first.”
“Which I can actually do tonight. In moderation.” Marshall grinned at me as he slid his long frame into the passenger seat.
“You got your new pump?” I returned his smile. He’d missed work yesterday to go into Portland for an appointment, and he’d been hoping the endocrinologist would have a solution for him.
“I did.” He patted his waistband area near his left hip. “And the doctor adjusted my overall medication regimen. She said work stress can play a role in blood sugar as well.”
“Next court date, I’m making sure you eat breakfast myself.” I wagged a finger at him. Despite my natural caretaker inclinations, I tried to keep any inquiries regarding Marshall’s health light and minimal.
“You better sleep over then, just in case,” he countered.
“I better.” My cheeks heated. I put the car in Drive to distract from the innuendo.
“Speaking of, how are your cats this evening?” Marshall kept up the flirty tone.
Oh. I was apparently doing more than simply dropping him off later. Win.
“Well-fed, watered, and could easily last until morning.”
“Good to know.” He winked at me as I stopped for a red light. “With my new pump and med tweak, I’m feeling more like myself again.”
“Excellent.” I waggled my eyebrows in return. He’d mentioned rather sheepishly the other night that his medications could sometimes make sex more difficult. I was plenty happy to wait until he felt better, but if that occasion was tonight, so much the better.
We arrived at the hotel ballroom hosting the event and joined the crowd waiting to get in. A well-dressed swath of Mount Hope’s upper class and VIPs waited to show their tickets.
“How did you score tickets to this anyway?” Marshall asked.
“My mother is a pediatrician in town.” I maybe should have shared that fact sooner, but in my defense, I’d been a bit distracted lately. “She couldn’t have any biological kids, so she and my dad adopted the lot of us from foster care.”
“How many siblings do you have?” His eyes widened at the word lot. Marshall had mentioned an older sister who lived in Seattle, but my rowdy collection of siblings would likely be a new experience for him.
“Four. One biological sibling, three adopted. I’m the middle kid.” I scanned the crowd, luckily not spotting any other Callahans. “Fair warning that at least two of my siblings are probably here tonight, but I’ve warned everyone that us dating is super new and to not overwhelm you.”
“Thank you.” Marshall pursed his lips as if thinking hard. “I’m okay meeting your family.”
“Yeah?” That was a pleasant surprise. I showed our tickets to the volunteer working the door, and we made our way into the elegantly decorated ballroom with art deco accents for the occasion.
“This is our last first date, after all.” He nodded decisively. “They might want to get used to me. And I told my mom about you when I was in Portland for the doctor’s appointment.”
Another shocker. “What did you say?”
“That you have terrible taste in shirts, an abundance of cats, a kind heart, and I like you a lot.”
I grinned so widely it was a wonder the lights didn’t flicker. “Good.”
The dinner portion of the evening included introducing Marshall to my parents, which went surprisingly well. After he excused himself to the restroom, likely to check his pump, my mother took the opportunity to slide into the chair next to me.
“I like your friend.” She wore a vintage silver dress and matching chunky jewelry.
“Me too.” I was much too happy to play it cool.
“Is it too early to tell you to bring him to a family dinner?” my dad asked from across the table.
“A bit.” I tensed. Marshall had said he was happy meeting my family but subjecting him to the whole lot of us felt a little daunting. “But soon.”
“I’ll make meatloaf.” Dad wasn’t above bribing me with my favorite. “Do you need me to look in on your cats tonight?”
“Dad.” I was sure I was blushing again.
“Come on.” He leaned forward, tan suit coat stretching across his broad shoulders. “I’ve waited a long time for you to have a nice boyfriend for me to tease you about.”
I had also waited a long time for someone like Marshall to come along.
However, I was saved from replying as Marshall arrived back at the table.
The band was made up of local community college students, but they were doing an admirable job with the swing playlist. Several couples were already dancing, including Marshall’s emergency room nurse practitioner and his cute younger boyfriend.
My parents joined in the fun, leaving Marshall and me alone at the table.
“Do you want to dance?” he asked.
“Yes, but I’m not very good at it.” Might as well be truthful, even if it made me blush again. “Actually, that might be a good metaphor for the rest of the evening.”
“Are you nervous?” he asked, patting my hand.
“A little.”
“If it helps, I am too.” He wrapped his arm around me. “I like you a lot. I don’t want to screw anything up, and not simply because we work together. This matters.”
“It matters to me too,” I said before Marshall leaned in for a fast, soft kiss. As with everything he did, he was a very thoughtful, present kisser who gave the endeavor his full attention, and as much as I was nervous, I also couldn’t wait to see where else he turned that intensity on.
And so we danced. As I’d suspected, Marshall was far better at dancing than me, but he was also good at leading and covering up for my missteps.
He was taller than me, yet we fit together remarkably well.
The more we danced, the more my anticipation for later grew until excitement replaced most of my nerves.
Back at his place, however, my anxiety reappeared as Marshall hung our suit jackets on hangers in his small entryway closet.
I liked his apartment, which had a large, sunny front room with a kitchen off to one side and a bedroom beyond.
His mother had done a good job with the colorful decor that felt modern and fresh while still matching Marshall’s overall serious vibe.
“We did pretty well the other night,” he remarked offhandedly. “Kissing and sleeping together. We can do more of that if you want. I’m not in a hurry to run all the bases.”
“I might be.” I chuckled as I followed him to the bedroom. The cream-colored walls featured abstract art in shades of blue complemented by a dusky teal comforter. “But starting with what we’re good at might be wise.”
“Indeed.” He grinned. He did that a lot more these days—smiled at me.
Considering how solemn he could be at other times, his grins made me feel special, like I alone was allowed to peek at his playful side.
He unbuttoned his dress shirt, and I followed his cues until we were both in our boxers and lying under the covers, a cozy repeat of the other night.
“Come here,” he ordered, drawing me closer for a much more lingering kiss than the one earlier. He hadn’t worn an undershirt, so his chest was bare. He had a smattering of dark chest hair compared to my thicker reddish fuzz. I couldn’t resist stroking his muscular upper arms as we kissed.
Marshall kissed like he truly wanted to learn what I liked, making happy groans whenever he discovered something new, like how nibbling on my lower lip made me wriggle and clutch his arms. My erection nudged his through the fabric of our boxers.
“Do we need to be careful of your pump?” I asked. I’d caught a glimpse of the pump lurking above the waistband of his boxers on his hip.
“The adhesive on this new brand is pretty strong, but a little caution doesn’t hurt. I usually rotate between my upper arm, thigh, belly, and hip when I change it every couple of days.”
“Good to know.” I moved my caresses to his chest but stayed north of his pump and anything else lower, like his cock. We were both hard, but as Marshall had said, we didn’t need to hurry.
“Cautious doesn’t mean you need to avoid the area completely.” Marshall’s chuckle was a warm rumble against my lips as we traded more kisses.
I could take a hint, so I slowly slid a hand down his stomach to play with his cock through his boxers.
He moaned approvingly, so I went ahead and slid it out for easier stroking.
His cock reflected his overall build, long and lean, with a tapered, oval head.
Feeling wasn’t enough for me, so I kicked free of the covers in order to see as well.
And seeing made me want to taste, saliva gathering in my mouth and lust pooling low in my gut.
“Can I go down on you?” I asked, already sliding lower.
“Please. Just don’t rest your hand on the pump, and we’re good.
” He wriggled the rest of the way out of his boxers, and hot damn, was he ever sexy.
The room’s low light played up the copper tones in his skin and the definition in his arms and thighs.
His cock was uncut with plenty of foreskin to play around with as I resumed jacking him slowly.
Deep-throating wasn’t in my particular skill set, but I liked teasing with my tongue while I stroked, working up to shallow sucking on his cockhead.
“That feels so good.” Marshall’s praise went a long way to embolden me. Maybe I didn’t have to be a champion cocksucker as long as I made this one particular person feel amazing. And judging by his moans, I was doing a decent job of that.
I tightened my grip on his shaft as I sped up my sucking, using my tongue all around his head and underneath, trying to earn even more of those sexy groans and gasps. My own arousal kept ratcheting higher, and I rubbed myself against the bed.
“You’re going to get me off,” he warned with a gentle push at my shoulder. “Want you to come too.”
“Yes.” I was close enough simply from humping the bed that when I slid my other hand underneath me, my whole body tensed along with Marshall’s. I stroked both of us faster, loving the way he strained toward me.
“Oh, Rory.” He shuddered, a geyser of come shooting out over my fist and his thigh. The way he said my name, like I was the most important person in the universe, did it for me.
“Me too,” I managed to gasp before moaning, orgasm overtaking me.
“Wow.” He smiled goofily down at me. “Turns out we’re good at more than just kissing.”
“We are.” I gave a proud grin as I scooted out of the wet spot. “Be right back with a towel.”
I liberated one from his bathroom and returned so we could clean up.
“Come here.” Marshall opened his arms. Snuggling in with him under the covers once more was as natural as breathing.
“That was a pretty awesome first date.” I dropped a kiss on his chest.
“We should do more. Practice makes perfect,” he teased.
“A hundred?” I suggested.
“Way too few,” he scoffed. “You’re stuck with me way longer than that.”
“Excellent.” I made a contented noise. And as I drifted off, I sent up a wish that this might indeed be my last first date ever.