Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“Your long hair and that piece of actual art was you being rebellious?” I scoff. “I am never telling you about the time I borrowed Val’s parents’ car so I could sneak across state lines to be in a drag version of Rent and ended up getting arrested while wearing my Mimi outfit. Oops.”
Michael stares at me, and I hold my breath for a long moment, realizing that I unconsciously slipped that into the conversation to test him. Being a gay man is one thing. For some men, dressing in drag is something different.
Then he shifts in the water and licks his lips. “There wouldn’t happen to be video of that online anywhere…?”
No disgust. No judgment. Just a sexy rumble of interest. Holy shit, if he keeps passing all these tests, I might have to move in with him and learn to cook something.
“Not that I know of,” I say with a coy look to cover my sudden breathlessness, “but there might be others. It wasn’t my only performance. After my rockstar phase, but before I got the job at the school, I was a regular at Royale’s, the local drag club.”
He grins. “Of course you were.”
“Mm-hmm. I love musicals more than most people think is healthy, and I’d heard more than once that I would have been a pretty girl, so for a while it felt like the perfect fit.”
I’d wanted to embrace being gay with my whole chest. And since my mother had just abandoned me like a broken car on the side of the road, it was also a nice middle finger aimed in her direction, because she hated me, but for some insane reason, she was terrified of drag queens.
“Sounds like you had fun.”
“Oh yeah, we always a blast.”
“We?”
“Bex and the guys came whenever they knew I was going to be onstage.” Supporting me the way they always do.
He nods in understanding. “Do you still perform?”
“Not since I became a teacher. My drag mother sat me down one day and laid out a few stark realities about the world we live in. She knew how excited I was to be a teacher, so she said, ‘If I thought you loved putting on the dress and heels enough to make it worth it, I’d sit on you until you decided to stay.’” I smile at the memory.
“She also informed me that some members of the school board were regulars, and that while double standards shouldn’t exist, they always do. ”
When he frowns, I shake my head. “It’s fine.
And sure, I do miss vamping it up sometimes, but unlike most of the other performers, it was more for my inner theater kid and to rebel against my absent mother than a necessity for my soul.
I’m happy with who I am now. But back then, I wasn’t as sure about that until they showed me it was okay to be different.
Whatever different looked like for me. I’m still in a group email chat with half of them, and hop in several times a year to cheer them on when I’m not at the pub. ”
Reaching for the soap, I start to scrub myself as an excuse to look away from him for a moment. It smells like him. Like the woods, and something spicy I can’t identify.
“It’s your turn to reveal something before this silence gets awkward, Michael.” I need to regroup after revealing so much of myself to him. It feels like my skin is on inside out.
“Okay,” he says easily. “I’m bisexual. I didn’t find that out until I was in college, but I wasn’t that conflicted about it since, even with a larger dating pool to choose from, I didn’t get out much.
Oh, and I’ve never tried anything kinky, with ropes or handcuffs, but I’ve been thinking I’d be willing to try that with you if you’re interested.
Not tonight, though. Tonight, I just want to fuck you. ”
The soap shoots out of my hands, disappearing beneath the water as he chuckles. His eyes are sparkling with humor and smoldering desire.
“I love how red you get when you blush,” he says as he feels around for the missing bar.
“I don’t usually do it this often. You keep surprising me.”
“I’ll try to rein it in.” He hands me the soap, his fingers lingering on mine. “Can I ask you a question about your friends?”
“Whoa, Michael.” I hold up my free hand dramatically.
“That’s a pretty big step for us. You only saved me from an afterlife as a bear popsicle, fed me and gave me orgasms. Now we’re sitting in a bubble bath and you mention tying me up right before asking about my friends? We might be crossing the Rubicon.”
His lips quirk. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“That’s what I said.”
“They’re a big part of your life.”
“Is that a question?”
He’s still holding my hand. “An observation. I’m wondering how your lovers fit into the equation.”
My lips twist in genuine humor. “You know, I’ve managed to go my entire life without using the word lover in a serious sentence before.”
“Glad to amuse you.” But he’s waiting for my answer.
“Between you, me and these bubbles, I haven’t called anyone my boyfriend since the fourth grade. Our love lasted for the three hours that he thought I was ‘da-bomb-dot-com.’ Which was something he said about absolutely everything, so take that as you will. What about you?”
“I’ve dated—what was that you said before? The normal amount? No one serious.”
I was talking about sex, not dating, but okay. “No boyfriend or girlfriend? Not even in school?”
He shakes his head. “I mostly kept to myself.”
“I feel like I should call bullshit, but you’re telling the truth, aren’t you?
” It boggles my mind. “You’re gorgeous, smart, wealthy, well-traveled and you bake.
How did you not leave a trail of broken hearts everywhere you went?
Were you surrounded at all times by blind asexual bodyguards?
Did you go from the ranch to a deserted island until you showed up at Finn’s? Explain it to me.”
His smile disappears. “I’m not comfortable around most people, Win.
I never have been. So, I avoid socializing whenever possible.
When it isn’t, I’m very careful to make my lack of interest clear.
My family’s reputation makes that difficult at times, but I have no interest in following in their footsteps. ”
My heart melts a little at his admission, giving me the confidence to say, “You seem pretty comfortable with me.”
“I’m glad you’ve noticed.” He lets my hand go to squeeze my knee instead. “What do you call what we’re doing here, Win? What would you call what we are?”
Complicated? Wonderful?
“Scary but promising,” I tell him honestly, loving the feel of his large hands sliding up my thighs. “I mean, it’s not amnesia, fake dating or oddly erotic close-talking. But I’m still a fan.”
“There you go, bringing up that show again.”
“You brought the DVDS. And it’s kind of a tradition for us now.” Couples have traditions, don’t they? Cute little things they say and do that only they understand.
Are you a couple now?
I’m testing the waters. So far, they’re feeling nice and warm. I should be worried, because nothing in life is this easy. Another shoe or a penny will drop. It always does.
Or maybe it won’t. It’s too soon to tell.
He hauls me into his lap and I gasp in surprise. “You’ve had your bath. Is there any other topic you’d like to cover, anything you need, before I take you back to bed? Because I don’t think I’ll be letting you out of it again for a while.”
Anything I need. That’s what he’s been giving me. And all I’ve been doing since I got here is taking.
There’s no way he can know how unusual that is. If I were sick or injured, my friends would take care of me and I’d let them. Them. No one else. What used to be a necessity—because we weren’t able to count on anyone but each other—became a well-ingrained habit.
I’ve never been this vulnerable with anyone outside of my circle before. It’s more than the forced proximity, but I’m not ready to name it yet.
Are you falling for him, Winnie?
I couldn’t be.
“You like him.”
I really do.
“Win?”
I let my hand slide down his chest to his stomach, stopping before I reach the impressive erection standing like a sentinel between us. “Yes, Michael?”
His eyes narrow on my face. “You were going to tell me what you needed.”
“I was going to argue that I didn’t need anything, and then you were going to end the argument by carrying me somewhere. Let’s change things up. There is something I’m dying to do right now.”
“Name it.”
“I want to take care of you for a change. I’d like to wash you, if you don’t mind. Any problems with that?”
He bares his teeth in a grimace of restraint that shouldn’t be as arousing as it is. “No problems. But if you keep touching me the way you are now, we might not make it downstairs, and I know you won’t be happy about that.”
“Handcuffs wouldn’t work for that, but maybe if you blindfolded me and found a way to distract me from those horrible design choices,” I tease before smiling at the disappointed grunt he makes when my hands leave him to reach for the soap.
“I know it’s hard , sir, but I’m going to need you to try and relax for me. ”
“It’s very hard, Win. Especially since you mentioned blindfolds.”
“Interesting. Poor Michael.” I lather my hands and then run them over his strong shoulders and down his body again, tracing his tattoo and sliding my fingers through the silky hair on his chest.
He lets out a shuddering exhale, his fingers tightening on the curve of my ass. “I’m not sure this is going to relax me.”
“Ye of little faith.” I take time massaging his neck, then circle my arms around him to wash his back. He’s holding himself still, and I don’t know if he’s worried about making the wrong move or worried I’ll stop. “You aren’t used to being on the receiving end either, are you?”
The muscles in his back ripple and I press my lips against his neck, laughing softly. “I’m talking about having someone take care of you. Look after you.”
He glances at me through his lashes. “Not really, no.”