Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Ari
Felix stares at me, unblinking, for so long that I begin to worry that I’ve broken something in his brain.
Embarrassment is hot on the back of my neck as I look away and swallow.
Well. It was worth a shot, right? I didn’t expect him to be so horrified that he’d be speechless, but at least now I know for certain that he has no interest in me beyond friendship.
I could have lived without his horrified reaction, but…
I guess I should say something—anything—to let him off the hook.
“No hard feelings if you’d rather not. It was just an idea.”
“Really?”
It’s almost a shout, and my gaze snaps to him immediately. He doesn’t look shocked anymore, just intense. And maybe a little pissed off and mean, which is surprisingly… arousing.
“You’re just going to say that to me in a restaurant and then act like you offered to carpool to work instead of—of…” He sputters to a halt, seeming to suddenly realize where we are and how many people have turned to look at where the loud voice is coming from.
Kent appears at my side with a worried frown. “Is everything okay here?”
Felix sucks in a deep breath through his nose. “Yes. Sorry. I get carried away sometimes when I’m talking about, uh, my hobbies.”
I cough to cover the inappropriate laugh that wants to escape. That probably wouldn’t do anything to soothe his ire.
“It’s no problem,” Kent assures us. “Just try to keep it low enough that nobody else notices.”
We both nod.
“Your food is nearly ready, so that should help to distract you.”
Felix opens his mouth, and for a split second, I’m convinced he’s going to tell Kent to cancel our meal. But instead he says, “That’s great. Is there any chance I could have another drink, please? Whatever shifter-made whisky you’ve got. A double.”
I flinch. I guess that makes it pretty clear what he thinks of my offer.
“Coming right up,” Kent promises, and then we’re alone again.
Gathering my courage—more than I’ve needed in a long time—I say, “It—”
“I don’t understand you.” Felix talks over me, his glare fixed firmly on my face. “First you hate me for things you think I’ve done, and then you hate me for who you think I am, and then we call a truce but you still act like being around me is painful.”
“Felix—”
“No, it’s my turn to talk. Then we finally start to connect, and I think maybe we could be friends. Five minutes later, you’re acting like we’ve been friends for years, and you’re actually a better friend than a lot of the ones I’ve had for years.”
I don’t know if he’s glad about that or not, but it gives my competitive spirit a little boost. Fuck yeah, I’m a better friend than whoever else he’s thinking of.
“And then,” he continues, the ire in his voice telling me that even if he is glad about how good a friend I was being, he’s not going to let it be a point in my favor, “just when I’m wondering if maybe you could be interested in me, if we could one day be more than friends, you have to go and offer to do me a favor by fucking me on the regular, and then you say no hard feelings if I don’t want to. ”
I keep my mouth shut. That was a pretty good summary of the situation, but Felix looks like he could happily murder me right now, and the part of me that grew up incredibly conscious of other people’s opinions hates the idea of making a scene in public. I’m going to let him set the pace here.
And hope it takes us somewhere I want to be. Did it… did it maybe seem like he wanted me to be into him? Like he was hoping I am?
I keep my face impassive, even though it wants to wince.
I may have just told the man I’m halfway to falling in love with that I’d have sex with him as a favor, but no big deal if he doesn’t want to.
Pretty sure that’s the stupidest thing anyone’s ever done, and I’m including my dragon colleagues in that statement.
Not surprising that he’s unhappy about it.
He’s muttering to himself now, jaw working, and I’m so proud of him.
Just a few days ago, being this angry would likely have resulted in something—or someone, namely me—being broken.
But even though he’s barely had time to start his new training program, he’s already managing to restrain himself.
Would it make things worse if I offered to spar with him?
Does he even know how to spar? He’s young, and he’s a hockey player, not a soldier. To the best of my knowledge, he’s never been trained to fight. I wouldn’t want to piss him off by handing his ass to him in three seconds flat.
Kent returns bearing a glass of whisky before Felix manages to pull himself together enough to continue the conversation, and he’s followed by another server with our meals. I smile politely and thank them both effusively, and then they’re gone.
Felix picks up the glass, brings it close to his face, and smells it. An agonized expression contorts his face, but then he sets it back on the table and shoves it toward me. “I can’t drink this. Alcohol is banned from my diet plan.”
I set it wordlessly out of his reach, in front of my glass, where it will hopefully be less visible to him also, and don’t ask why he ordered it.
“I wanted Dutch courage, but it’s not going to help me in this situation,” he continues bitterly, picking up his fork and stabbing a veal medallion. I watch, taking in the way his mouth is turned down in genuine unhappiness. It’s time for me to fix this.
“It wouldn’t be me doing you a favor.” The words are ragged, raw.
It doesn’t entirely sound like my voice, but I’m the one saying them.
“I mean, it would, but that’s not why I offered.
And… and I wouldn’t have hard feelings if you said no, but it would, uh, sting.
Hurt. I would hurt.” I stop before I say something else, something I’m not ready for, and wait to see how he responds.
Once again, he’s staring at me. Slowly, he shakes his head. “I don’t understand you, Ari. Sometimes I think I know who you are, and then… Do you wear a mask all the time? Who’s the real Ari?”
My chest gets tight with panic, but I force myself to breathe through it, just like I always do.
I don’t doubt that Felix is special to me, but I’m not ready to have this conversation, and even if I was, this isn’t the place.
“I’m just saying, my offer was genuine, and it matters to me. You matter to me.”
He puts his fork down and pinches the bridge of his nose. His jaw is clenched, but this time I don’t think it’s in anger. “So, what, we’d be friends who fuck?”
I choose my next words carefully. “To begin with. When you feel like you’re in a good place for more, we could reassess.” That came out wrong, and I want to call the words back, but thankfully, they don’t seem to have made him mad. Or madder.
Instead, he looks down at his plate, blinking a few times. “You’re not offering because you feel sorry for me?”
“What?” It comes out louder than I expected.
Lowering my voice, I slide around the banquette, moving closer to Felix.
“No. Absolutely not. Felix, I care about you. We might not have, uh, had the most conventional path to friendship, but I count you as a friend now. I empathize with your current situation, I’m attracted to you, and I want to help if I can, but there’s definitely a benefit for me in my offer.
I’m worried that you’ll feel pressured or like you don’t have other options, which would make me the worst kind of scum for preying on—”
He cuts me off with his mouth on mine, a hard, clumsy kiss, what with our awkward positions and me being midsentence.
But his hand comes up to cup my cheek, and his lips are soft and warm, and the rush of tingling adrenaline that courses through my body does not care that this isn’t a technically perfect kiss. It’s perfect anyway.
When he finally pulls back, we’re both breathing hard and shakily. Felix swallows and looks me in the eye.
“Was that okay?”
I nod. “Very okay. So much okay.”
He nods too. “Good. Okay. Um. I’m gonna need a minute. Could you go back over there and not touch me for a bit?”
“We can leave,” I offer, but he shakes his head.
“No. I want to eat this food and enjoy this evening with you.” There’s a determined bite to his voice, but his face is miserable.
I start to slide back, glancing around to see if anyone was offended by us making out in public—too bad if they are—but nobody seems to have even noticed.
In fact, tucked away in the booth, we’re pretty shielded from prying eyes.
I can’t even really see any of the other patrons—an arm here and there, the back of a head, the corner of a table, sure, but not faces.
The idea that takes shape in my mind makes my old self cringe in horror. It makes professional me shake my head. But the me who only cares about Felix’s comfort and well-being thinks it’s an excellent idea.
“What if I help you out with that?” I offer quietly, making a telling gesture before laying my hand on the tabletop. “Then we can finish dinner at our leisure.”
Felix’s eyes widen. “Ari,” he hisses. “You can’t mean… We’re in a restaurant!” But the longing glance he gives my hand tells a different story.
“Nobody’s paying attention,” I murmur, sliding closer again. “We’re so private and cozy here, and the tablecloth hides everything anyway. Let me take care of you.”
He’s tempted. “What if this is like a gateway drug?” he frets. “What if having sex in public once is a signal to my hormones that it’s okay, and I end up being one of those disgusting people who jerks off in the grocery store?”
One of those… what? This took an unexpected turn. “That’s not going to happen,” I promise. “We’re going to fix your hormones, remember? Regular sex. They won’t get so bad that you need to… jerk off in a grocery store.” I shake my head. “Not that you ever would, anyway.”
He bites his lip, teeth worrying at it, then heaves a huge sigh. “Will you kiss me again while you…?”
A smile takes over my mouth, tugging at the corners, and I lean in close to feather soft kisses along his jaw. “Of course.”
Color stains Felix’s cheeks. “I still feel like I should say no… but I don’t want to.”
“Does that mean…?”
His gaze meets mine. “Let’s defile this booth.”
Choking back a chuckle, I move to sit right beside him, our legs pressed together, then angle so my torso is facing him. I want to watch his face while we do this.
His breathing has already picked up pace, and I’ve barely touched him. Excitement races through me. If this is how he reacts to innocent contact, I can’t wait for what comes next.
I adjust the tablecloth, checking that it definitely hides what I plan to do to him, and then I lean in and brush my lips along the line of his jaw. His head turns immediately, and I capture his mouth with mine, not holding back. This isn’t the time for gentle kisses.
Felix clearly agrees, because he’s devouring me, and I fucking love it so much I barely realize I’m moaning.
As easy as it would be to spend the next hour kissing Felix, Kent’s probably going to check on us soon, and I refuse to give up this opportunity. So I break away from Felix’s delicious, puffy, wet lips and reach for the small bottle of olive oil that’s presumably supposed to be used for the bread.
It’s the work of seconds to get my right palm slicked up and Felix’s pants open, his underwear pulled down to give me all the access I need.
I can’t see his dick—the carefully draped tablecloth is blocking my view—but I can feel the thick weight of it in my hand.
I hope Felix’s hormones are in overdrive tonight, because I definitely want that in me later.
“Ready?” I murmur, capturing his earlobe between my teeth for a gentle tug.
“I’ve never been more ready,” he breathes, his voice raw and shaking. My poor Felix.
“Don’t worry, Fe. I’ll take care of you, nice and quick,” I promise. I begin with a slow, firm stroke, and he makes a choked sound that might have been a gasp, and then I set up a steady rhythm.
If I had the time he deserves, I’d slow the pace a lot and tease him more, but since I’m pretty sure Kent will be back any minute now, I keep my strokes quick.
When my thumb grazes over the head, his breath hitches, so I repeat it, my eyes on his face as his mouth falls open. He’s so sexy, so fucking hot.
I press light kisses to the side of his neck, loving the way a shiver overtakes him, and then I slip my left hand under his shirt, walking my fingers up his rippled stomach to his chest, and pinch his nipple.
He comes like a rocket, explosive and fast, clenching his jaw to keep from making any noise that would give us away.
“Okay?” I whisper as his breathing starts to steady. I’ve got a handful of cum that I need to get rid of, but I don’t want to move away from him until he’s back to himself.
He looks up at me with glazed eyes and parted lips. Fuck the cum, and fuck everyone in the restaurant. I lean in—
“Yeah, I’m good,” he says, straightening. “Thanks. That was incredible.”
Shoving down my disappointment, I slide back around the booth and grab a tissue from my pocket to clean off my hand. None too soon, either—Kent appears just as I’m shoving the crumpled wad back into my pocket. I’ll go wash my hands as soon as he’s gone.
“I hope everything’s going well over here,” he says, and Felix grins wickedly.
“You have no idea.”