Chapter 9
CHAPTER
NINE
It wasn’t that they avoided each other; it was just that they were busy.
Dante told himself it was no different from any other lodger.
Some of them he’d only seen once a week as they hadn’t wanted to cook or use the kitchen.
The only sign that Shannon was living there was the soup mug in the dishwasher and the rotation of tubs in the fridge.
Sometimes there’d be one with his name on it.
And he did the same, especially when Shannon was on nights.
Dante would leave a container of food, so he had something for lunch or dinner or whatever meal break he took during the night.
The next day it would be washed and sitting in the rack drying.
He had no idea how Shannon moved about the house so quietly.
He felt kind of guilty running a class and banging away in the workshop while Shannon was trying to sleep. He half expected a text message begging him to shut up, but it never came. Shannon simply waved as he left for work at his usual time.
It was Monday when Dante saw him again. The garage door was open, letting the sun and breeze in. Not that it made any difference, as he was still a sweaty mess when Shannon walked in looking as fresh as a daisy, like he hadn’t been working nights and was switching back to days.
Shannon paused in the doorway, reluctant to come in. “Hey…”
“Hi. The only reason I knew you were still alive was the tubs in the kitchen.”
Shannon smiled. “I’m used to creeping about when I’m on nights.”
Dante finished his set and stood. “I hope the class wasn’t too noisy over the weekend.”
“I took your advice and got some earplugs. I also played some white noise, but I think I was so shattered, you could’ve been hammering next to my ear, and I wouldn’t have noticed.”
Dante wiped down the bench. “I’m almost done.”
“It’s okay, you can finish. I have time. Nights are over, so I’ve got a couple of days off before I flick back to days. I might warm up on the bike?”
“Go for it.” He tried not to watch as Shannon grabbed a towel. His shorts were only there for decoration; if he hadn’t been wearing the leggings underneath, they would’ve been indecent. He would not have complained about the view.
Dante pushed damp strands of hair off his face and moved on to his last exercise for the day. He always left chin-ups until the end.
In part because he hated them after being forced to do so many in the army, but also because by the end he was tired and he’d just keep going until he only had a few reps left in the tank.
He was aware of Shannon watching out the corner of his eye, as if he didn’t want to be caught.
Just because they had slept together once didn’t mean it needed to happen again, and when they weren’t crossing paths, it was easy not to think about it.
But when they were in the same room, something happened…
it was like a charge in the air before a storm.
At least it wasn’t just him struggling to resist.
Dante was sure he felt the blood draining from his arms and filling his dick. He did not want to be walking out of here with a hard-on, as he wasn’t wearing fancy compression leggings with modesty shorts over the top. He was wearing baggy shorts, and they were not going to save him.
He dropped down from the bar and wiped his face with the towel. Get it together, Cutler.
When he lowered the towel, Shannon was off the bike and setting up the barbell. He glanced up and caught Dante staring at him in the mirror.
Shannon turned. “I feel like we are not so subtly creeping on each other?”
Dante gripped the towel like it was going to save his life. He needed to say something witty or funny, but he wasn’t used to company or flirting, and he forgot what words were.
“Just me? Okay. Awkward.” Shannon grimaced.
“It’s not just you.” Though Dante wished it was because then he’d have a reason to push back. He knew he should grab his drink bottle and leave, but he was unable to move.
Shannon picked up Dante’s water bottle and brought it over to him.
Dante took it from him. “Thanks.”
Shannon didn’t walk away.
Neither did Dante. Which only proved he was a fucking idiot both for standing there and not touching him and for not walking away.
“We can make a new rule,” Shannon said.
“What kind of rule?” He hoped the towel clutched in his hand was hiding what had to be a very obvious hard-on. He hoped that he didn’t sound too breathy and desperate and that it could be passed off as exhaustion from working hard.
“That what happens here stays here.”
There was no mistaking the intent behind that rule. It was the kind of rule that made sense. That gave them both what they wanted…at least temporarily because sooner rather than later, Shannon would leave and get his own place, while he’d be stranded, haunted by more memories.
Wasn’t it better to have made the memories in the first place, though?
Not only that, but he was already tormented by what had happened. Or was he tormented by what he wanted to happen, and the avoidance was worse than the fallout.
“In the gym?”
The corner of Shannon’s lips turned up. “Sure, if that’s how you want it.”
He didn’t know how he wanted it, only that he wanted. The more he learned about him, and the more he saw him, the more he needed. What would Shannon do if he reached out and grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him closer?
Probably melt into him and kiss him.
Fuck it. I’m going to have regrets either way. I might as well enjoy something.
He lifted his hand and let his fingertips trail over Shannon’s collarbone before tugging on his shirt. As expected, Shannon didn’t resist. He stepped in close, lips parting and eyes darkening.
Dante swallowed, fighting against the urge to surrender and be consumed by the very obvious hunger in Shannon’s eyes. He wasn’t ready to give in; that meant losing control, and without the rules that he’d made for himself, there was nothing to keep him safe.
Shannon’s lips brushed over his, tentatively as if he expected to be pushed away.
How was it possible to want more and yet find the soft kiss too much?
He kept hold of Shannon’s shirt and returned the kiss with equal caution.
He was about to go upstairs and shower…and it would be easy for Shannon to come with him.
But his tongue was too busy to make those words. Shannon tasted like he’d just brushed his teeth. Had he rolled out of bed, thrown on some clothes and come downstairs?
Dante wasn’t sure who made the little groan or when Shannon had put his hand on Dante’s arm. He wanted to grab his hip and pull him closer, to grind against him and drag him down to the floor…
This was not where he wanted him.
This wasn’t a hook-up. If they did this, he didn’t know what it was. Yeah, he did. It was the thing he said he’d never do again. No fuck buddies where they were treading water until something better came along or they went back to their regular life.
He drew back, breathing like he’d just run a mile in full gear. “This isn’t going to work.”
Shannon licked his lower lip. “Okay?”
“Okay.” Dante took another step back. And then another. He turned and walked out of the garage without walking back, cursing himself both for leaving and for staying long enough to kiss him.
Long enough to want to do more than kiss him.
He really needed to stop thinking about Shannon and get on with what needed to be done.
He’d been putting off the supply run because Shannon was on nights and he hadn’t wanted to leave him sleeping in the house alone during the day and then coming back to an empty house while he was away—it didn’t matter that he slept in an empty house all the time.
But he needed the break from the man. He couldn’t stop thinking about him, and no good would come of it. A night in the city was exactly what he needed. He’d find someone like he usually did and enjoy himself, but the idea didn’t thrill him the way it usually did.
There was no buzz of excitement because all he wanted to do was go downstairs and put the gym to very inappropriate use. If he did that, he’d never be able to use it again without remembering.
He stripped off and stepped into the shower—keeping it a little colder than he liked—unable to forget about the shower he’d shared with Shannon either.
The blonde paramedic was taking over his life.
The temperature of the water made no difference to his hard-on, so he gave in, letting his imagination fill in what might’ve happened if it stayed downstairs.
They would’ve pulled their shirts off between kisses.
Shorts would’ve been next. He’d drop to his knees and slowly peel down Shannon’s leggings, nuzzling at his dick and balls before taking the head in his mouth.
He groaned, head bowed as his hand worked over his shaft, remembering what Shannon had tasted like. He needed another taste.
The cool water drummed on his shoulders as he imagined pulling him down to the mats, crawling over him to pin him and grind against him…his breath caught as he came.
“Fuck.” He tipped his face to the water, trying to clear his mind, and swore again. He wasn’t horny; he had it bad.