Colorado Game (part
3)
By: Andr0gene
(andr0gene@hotmail.com)
**********DISCLAIMER**********
The characters and incidents portrayed and the names used herein are fictitious, any similarity to the name, location, character or history of any person is entirely coincidental and unintentional. This story portrays, at times, strong erotic content. If you are a minor, or in any other way not allowed to read it, you are advised strongly to discontinue.
************************************
I spent the next couple of hours on the phone, talking to the studio, which luckily was able to put us up. I also snared several of the artists and was able to get a hold of the most key instruments.
Then I went up to the legal department, to pick up the contracts for the individual artists. When I exited the elevator on the top floor, I passed Janice's office, and I waved at her as I tried to find out where the department was located. When she called out to me, I backtracked a few steps and stuck my head around the doorpost, telling her I was in kind of a hurry.
"You can spare a few minutes. Come in," she said, stretching out an arm to a person I hadn't seen when I walked by. "I'd like you to meet Andrew Forester, our vice-president." A tall man rose from one of the chairs in the ante-office; good grief, were all the Foresters this tall? This guy was as tall as Ross, maybe even taller. He was dressed in a grey suit, which was kinda boring, but he was very nice when he introduced himself.
"Hi, nice to meet you," I said, offering him my hand. "Mark Norcross."
"Ah, so this is the infamous Mr. Norcross," Andrew said, shaking my hand. He squeezed it and I stopped myself just in time before I could yelp; another bone-cracker. What a lovely family. "I've heard so much about you."
"None of it is true," I answered, offering him a smile. He returned it warmly, tilting his head.
"I'll be damned," he said after a few seconds, "green and blue, just like he said." I felt like a cow being weighed and sold. "Ross told me about that." I avoided his gaze when he mentioned Ross's name and looked at Janice.
"Right. Ehm... Janice, can you help me out? I'm looking for the legal department." I looked back at Andrew and offered an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I don't wanna be rude, but we're in a bit of a hurry here. Because of this deal, we're pretty short on time." He waved my apology away.
"No, no... please, go on, I have to go anyway. And I know it's short notice, but I'm sure you'll make the deadline. I have every bit of confidence in you. I'm looking forward to hearing what you've made." He exited the office through a door on the left of Janice's desk. I glanced at a similar door on the right.
"No, he's not here," she spoke, softly. I smiled sourly.
"Did you talk to him yet?" I asked. When she shook her head, I felt a bit relieved. At least I wasn't the only one who he hadn't contacted then.
"No. I know Andrew talked to him last night; he just told me. But he didn't tell me where Ross was or what he was doing." I tried to not let it get to me, that he had taken the time to call his brother, so I pretended not to care.
"Right. So... legal department?" I guess that sounded a bit short and harsh but I couldn't help myself. Damn him.
"Mark..." she said, giving me a look that said ‘don't be angry'.
"Janice?" I answered, sending her back a ‘sorry, no can do' look. She sighed and gave me the directions. Then I left her office and went on my way.
**********
I arrived at the studio around
"Okay, let's get this show on the road, shall we?" Eric grinned, putting on a headset while I sat down at the mixing station.
"Gimme a few minutes," I answered, skimming the notes. Then I looked up and nodded. "Alright; let's dance."
The atmosphere in the studio was great when we started the session. The musicians knew the music, suggested a few things here and there, some of it good, some of it not so good, but the overall mood was cheerful and we got a lot of work done in the first two hours. I asked each instrument to be played solo at first, recording each on a separate track, enabling me to play around with it. Then, after those first two hours, the idea was to have all instruments play together and record that. The difference by doing it this way was to enable me to hear the end result before mixing the separate tracks together, and pinpoint several flaws in the grand scheme of things.
"Lose that drum," Joey said, "I heard it before but now I'm sure. It doesn't belong there. It sounds too menacing. We already have a battle theme." I nodded, realizing the same thing. I spoke through the mike that we'd be taking a break, because I had to rewrite that section. Then, when I swiveled around in my chair to get something from my bag, I froze. There, standing in a darkened corner of the booth, was Ross, leaning casually against the wall.
"'Hey boss, we hadn't seen you come in. You been standing there long?" Eric spoke, enthusiastically. "So what do you think?" Joey greeted him a bit calmer, his eyes quickly flicking from me to Ross and back.
"I like it," Ross said, pushing himself away from the wall. "Just a few minutes." He had his hands buried deep inside his pockets and tried to make eye contact.
"Can we talk?" he asked, eying Joey and Eric and making a nod towards the door. ‘In private?"
"I... no, I really can't leave now..." I answered, reaching for my bag. When I glanced up, he just raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms.
"I'm not really asking."
"Ross, I was told that this stuff must ready by five, so you'll just have to wait, alright?" I said a little irritated. God, his timing was way off. "I only have like, a few hours left." He sighed and impatiently combed his hair with a hand.
"This is important."
"So is this."
"Since I'm paying for it, I think you should do as you're told," he replied roughly, "now." At that he turned and stalked out, slamming the door shut behind him. It stayed silent for a few long seconds and then Joey softly spoke.
"Mark, you better go. This can wait for a few minutes." I looked at him and he smiled apologetically. "Now is not the time to get even. I know you're angry with him but he clearly wants to talk to you. Go."
"Wait a minute," Eric suddenly spoke up. "What the hell is going on here? What did just happen, did I miss something?" I nodded to Joey, who looked at me questioningly while motioning to Eric. Then I pushed myself off from the mixing panel and followed Ross out, while he began explaining a few things to Eric.
Ross was waiting just outside and as I closed the door behind me, and he took me by the elbow, guiding me down the hall. Dragging was more like it, actually. He tried two, three rooms in this corridor before he found one not occupied and pulled me inside, closing the door behind him and leaning against it. I walked to the middle of the room, one of the storage rooms for instruments, rubbing the elbow and making a face.
"What the hell was that all..." he started and then sighed, shaking his head. "This is not how I wanted it to go."
"What; playing the "I pay, so you play" speech or manhandling me down the corridor?" I snapped back, shaking my arm. Damn that elbow hurt. He held up his hands and his voice turned soothing.
"I'm sorry. I just... wanted to see you and talk to you and apologize. I didn‘t expect a warm fuzzy welcome but I think I deserve a little better than ‘you'll just have to wait'."
"What you deserve is absolutely nothing. I deserve an explanation. Jesus Ross, you left without a word. How did you think that would make me feel?"
"I can explain..."
"Cheap!" I cut him off. "And vulgar and stupid; basically a whore, but then without the pay. You got what you wanted and then left. God, if you wanted a one-night stand, you didn't have to take me through that rollercoaster courtship crap. For once I wish I had just gotten screwed and..."
"You shut that verbal diarrhea right now and just listen, alright?" he interrupted, "God, jump to conclusions why don't you?" He sent me a warning look when I opened my mouth to speak. "I resent that ‘whore' comment you just made." I wanted to say something again but he held up a finger and his voice sounded like a whip. "Silence." Then he sighed and spread his arms, speaking with a reasoning tone. "You're angry with me, and part of it is justified, yes, but that was uncalled for and just rude. Can you at least listen to me? Then you may tear my head off, if you still want to." I crossed my arms, fuming inside. "Mark?"
"You told me to be silent, so I'm silent," I said, my teeth clenched together. Childish? Yes, but he wasn't scoring any points right now.
"I know you're upset," he began, stating the obvious. He bit his lower lip guiltily.
"How perceptive. Someone give this man an award," I said sarcastically, balling my hands into fists. He came closer but halted when I shot him an angered look.
"Mark, give me a chance here, okay? I might have gone about it all wrong
but the reason I left is because I received a call from the
"And you couldn't find a phone?" I asked, softly. "Two minutes, that's all it would've taken. Two minutes, Ross." He slipped a finger underneath my chin and forced me to look up.
"Mark... it was hectic. By the time I got there, had everything sorted
out for transportation back to
"You could've called me from the plane. And you could have called me at home."
"Yes, I could have. I should have. But I figured that I would talk to
you after I came back to the
"You came straight here, to talk to me?" I asked, feeling pretty dumb. He smiled and put a hand on my arm, careful as if he expected me to shrug it off. When I didn't he pulled me closer, lowering his head until our noses were an inch apart.
"Well, first I went to the office, because I thought you'd be there, but then I came straight here, yes."
"Cute," I said, "you're being cute."
"Does it work?" he grinned. I nodded involuntary, not able to stay mad.
"Yeah, it does. I'm sorry, I freaked out."
"No, you made a mountain out of a molehill, without knowing the facts. I probably would have done the same, though. I really am sorry. It won't happen again."
He smiled apologetically and closed the distance between us, wrapping his arms tightly around me. I lifted mine up and let them slip around his neck, tilting my head underneath the pressure of his lips. When he came up for air, he softly smiled.
"So... are we okay now?" I nodded. He kissed me again and I smirked when he lifted his head and stifled a yawn.
"Oh, thanks, that's a real compliment. Now I'm putting you to sleep?" He shot me a tired smile. "Go home, sleep. You look like you need it." He shook his head slowly.
"No, I want to see you, tonight," he said, tightening his arms around me when I tried to step away. "Nuhuh... I'm not leaving before you say ‘yes'."
"Maybe you should just go home, sleep and just call me when you wake up. How's that sound?" He gave me a disappointed look.
"You don't want to see me tonight?"
"I didn't say that," I answered, "of course I would; you have some serious making up to do." But then I remembered something and made a face. "Bah, I forgot that my mom's coming over tonight. She's gonna help me do laundry... don't ask. So...." Ross frowned.
"So... and what, I can't see you?"
"Well... Ross, come on. She's my mom..."
"And," he said slowly, "you don't want me to meet her?" His grey eyes sent me an inscrutable look.
"This is going so fast... we know each other a week. Don't you think that's a bit soon; to meet the parents already?" I asked. He shrugged.
"It doesn't really matter, now does it? Whether I meet her tonight, a month or a year from now..." He grinned when I raised an eyebrow at hearing ‘year'.
"Trust me," I said, "you really don't wanna meet her this soon. She's... a hand full."
"Now I definitely want to meet her. Besides, she's not staying the night, is she?"
"No and neither are you," I said, flippantly. He growled deep in his throat.
"I thought we were past that already." He emphasized his point by letting a hand of his slide down to my behind.
"Well, we're not. We slept together but that doesn't mean I'm going to clear out any closets yet. You promised me that we'd take it slow..."
"But..." he began.
"Take it or leave it."
"Take it, take it," he said quickly. It sounded comical. "But I protest. You can't give it to me one day and not the next." I could feel a blush creeping onto my cheeks and he snickered. "So... I'll see you, and your mom, tonight?" I took a deep breath.
"Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you, after."
"I'll take my chances. If she's anything like you, how bad can it get?" I grinned at him; god, if only he knew. If he thought I was a hand full, he was in for a big surprise when he'd meet my mom. Ross finally stepped away, going for the door, and I called out to him.
"Ross, don't you need an address?" He hit his forehead with his hand and looked around for something. When he apparently didn't find it, he reached inside his jacket and took out a pen. Then he lifted up my arm, rolled up my sleeve and scribbled a number on it.
"That's my cell. Message me the address." I snickered and he raised an eyebrow questioningly.
"I don't have a cell phone," I explained. He rolled his eyes and wrote down another number. He had to do it twice when he made a mistake and my arm was starting to look like a small bible.
"That's my home phone-number. When you call, the housekeeper will probably answer; give her the address."
"Check." I was the recipient of another kiss, and this one was definitely not of the chaste variety. Then he quickly exited and when I looked at my watch, I cursed. Damnit... I had only three hours left!
I called the number Ross had given me after the studio session was completed. As I waited for the receiving end to pick up, I hummed the theme. I stopped when a smoky, raw but very female voice picked up with a soft ‘hello?'
"Hello, is this the Forester residence?" I asked.
"Yes, this is Sofia Forester. Who is calling?"
"H...hi, t... this is Norcross. I mean Mark." I said it as if she should know who I was and I closed my eyes as I stammered my way into this fiasco.
"But of course you are," she answered, sounding amused. "And ‘Norcross I mean Mark', what can I do for you?"
"I'm sorry, can I start again?" The laughter coming from the receiver sounded very infectious and she told me to give it my best shot. "My name is Mark Norcross and I'm calling to leave an address with you. Ross asked me to do so."
"I see. Ross is not available right now," she answered.
"I know. He asked me to call this number and give the address..."
"Let me get a pen." She returned to the phone half a minute later. "All set; let's hear it." I gave her my address. She repeated it and I confirmed. "Now tell me; when did you talk to my son?"
"I'm sorry... I..."
"You said that you knew he wasn't available, so you have spoken to him. How? When?"
"About half an hour ago," I answered. "He was here."
"I'm not a mind-reader, dear ‘Norcross I mean Mark', and my homing senses are currently switched off. Where is ‘here'?" Sheez, I was making a good impression here. Thank god she didn't know who I was.
"At the studio. We're recording some music for a project."
"Oh I see. You're an employee?"
"Yes, sort of..."
"Very well, I will make sure he gets it."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome." With those last words she hung up, leaving me standing there, staring at the horn. I slowly put it back and left the studio to go back to the office.
**********
It was a little after six-thirty when I came home, and I dumped my stuff on the floor. I'd been lucky, three years ago, to get this loft, which belonged to an uncle of mine. You could only reach it by taking an old elevator, one of those where you still had to lift up a rattling, squeaky door to get in, because the stairs only went up to the fourth floor. My loft was on the fifth.
It was a 1000 square feet, had hardwood floors, 14 ft ceilings, 6 ft windows (five of them), one bedroom, which was located above the recently installed new kitchen and the best of all; access to the roof. I spent many a night up there, reading or working, writing music. I write most of that by hand and then try it on a keyboard I have in the living room or use programs on the computer.
The staircase leading up to the bedroom was right smack in the middle of the living room. Once in the bedroom, you could look down into the living room; the entire wall had been broken out and replaced by a balustrade. I also had a bathroom up there with an old, big tub. The whole thing would cost me a small fortune if my uncle asked me the full price for it but I only paid half, or less; $750, all-in. Not bad, I'd say, especially for a kid of just twenty one years old, back then.
I went to the kitchen to get a drink and then went up to change into something more comfortable; very old jeans and a black The Sisters of Mercy T-shirt with red text saying "Fuck Me And Marry Me Young" on the back. Yeah, I know... but it freaks out my mom whenever I wear it and that's reason enough for me to put it on. You should've heard her when I wore it to school. Well, I didn't actually wear it in plain sight, but her thinking that I did was enough to crack anyone up.
I was just coming down the stairs when a knock on the door announced my mom (she had a key for the front door downstairs) and I pulled the door sideways to let her in.
"Hey babes," she said, kissing me on the cheek. Then she stormed in further, carrying a load of shopping bags which she unceremoniously dumped on the floor. "I don't have a lot of time; I have to get back to the diner by eight."
She babbled on and on in her usual way fast way as she went upstairs, half
listening to the answers I gave about the prior week and the trip to
"Now pay attention, okay?" she said, throwing whites into the machine first. "It's not rocket science. Turn this knob to here, then press this button. Put in detergent, not too much. No, no fabric softener, you'll scratch yourself to death. Alright, close the door. Now push ‘start'. There, that's all. See? You just have to get used to the machine."
I'd bought the new machine a few days before the trip but hadn't actually used the thing yet. Previously I just threw all my stuff into a plastic bag and went over to my mom's and she'd do them. But she had gotten it into her head that I needed to learn it and told me to buy my own machine. I guess she was right but it was handy, the arrangement we had. She smiled at me when I looked at the machine curiously as it took on water and started to churn, and she shook her head.
"You write the most beautiful music, read music notes better than words, but here you are, amazed at a machine that gives you clean clothes in an hour. I see you bought a dryer as well. Is it all hooked up?" I nodded. I had the whole shebang installed.
"Good. When it's done, you'll hear a beep. Then it's safe to take your crap out of there, dump it in the dryer. I'll stay until this run is done, show you how. Then you're on your own. So, tell me," she babbled on as we moved back downstairs, "did you ski a lot?"
"Yeah, I'm a pro now," I replied, sarcastically. "I'm going for the Olympics in two years." It earned me a soft slap on the back of my head. I made coffee and we sat in the kitchen, talking, catching up.
She told me about stuff going on at the diner, which she owned for... what
was it... fifteen years now? Before that, she had worked there for another
five; I spent half my childhood underneath the tables there. She had taken it
over from the couple that retired and had moved to
"Great, now you know how it works. Call me if you're not sure which colors can go togeth... oh, for god sakes, you're gay. You know which colors go together best." I grinned and we started to go back downstairs when the intercom buzzed. I felt a knot begin to form in my stomach as she frowned at me.
"You expecting company?" she asked as I pressed the release button to let Ross in. I blocked the view-screen from her when she tried to see who it was.
"Yeah... mom... ehm... could you try to be less ehm... ‘you' for a while when he gets here? It's kinda important." She gave me an exasperated look.
"What, have I ever embarrassed you before, when you brought home a ‘friend'?" she asked, seemingly insulted. Yeah, right; was the Pope a catholic? "I never gave you any grief about anything. I'm a cool mom. Ask your friends. That shirt, though..."
"Yeah mom, I'll never forget how you told my first ever boyfriend that if he hadn't brought rubbers, he should feel free to use some of yours. Very cool."
"Many parents, and especially to gay children, are not as open minded as I am," she shot back. "You should be glad to have a mom like me!"
"Open minded is fine, but not on a first date!" We kept bickering back and forth until the elevator audibly stopped on my floor. When a knock sounded on the door, I shot her a final warning look and she threw up her hands, mouthing ‘fine, I'll behave'. Then I pulled the door sideways.
"Hi," I greeted Ross as he stepped forward, "come in." He halted when he saw my mom and smiled.
"Good evening. You must be Mrs. Norcross?" he asked, extending a hand.
"Toriello, actually, Norcross is Mark's fathers' name," she said, sending me a grin from ear to ear. "For some reason he likes that better." He shot her such a bright smile that I almost needed sunglasses. If he was still tired, I couldn't detect a trace of it. I closed the door, relieved that mom behaved. She had even managed to get rid of her gum, which she always incessantly, and audibly, chewed. I did not want to know where it had ended up.
"Please, call me Gloria," she said, motioning him to the couches. ‘Sit, sit, sit. Tell me about yourself." He followed her and took off his leather jacket on the way, handing it to me and then sat down opposite her.
"I'm Ross. Ross Forester."
"Forester... Forester," she repeated, frowning. Then her eyebrows
rose up and she pointed at me. "Forester as in Forester Group; who hired
him?" she asked. He nodded and she stared at him. "Mansion up in
"One of those, yes."
"Oh my god, then you're loaded," she said, letting herself fall backwards into the couch. The way she was sitting, it wouldn't take a certified doctor to locate her spleen, for god sakes. She wore a skirt that even Julia Roberts would have declined in "Pretty Woman".
"Mom!" I hissed, causing her to give me a disturbed glance. She made a dismissive gesture.
"Shut up, I'm trying to get to know my son-in-law."
"Mom!" I repeated a second time, while Ross laughed again.
"It's alright, Mark," he said, turning his head back to my mom. "Yes, we did pretty well."
"Pretty well? Your family is on the Forbes list." I stared at him. I hadn't even known about that. "You sure know how to pick em, kid," she said, shaking her head. Then she regarded him for a little while, long enough to manage it so that Ross started to become a little uncomfortable, his eyes flicking from her to me. He coughed.
"So tell me Ross; are you a top or a bottom? You look like a top but I'm always wrong about these things. It's when you play hubby in bed, right?" I closed my eyes and hung my head, embarrassed to the core. I couldn't believe she had just said that. But Ross surprised me by replying without missing a beat.
"I'm a top, actually," he answered. "And yes, it's when you're the hubby." My mom clapped her hands and laughed loudly.
"I knew it! See honey? I'm getting the hang of it." I groaned loudly now and shot Ross a look that didn't promise much good.
"So tell me; you two already had sex yet, right? God, I can't even remember the last time I had any. The next guy I have it off with will need a pickaxe and a crowbar to break his way in." At that, Ross gave a burst of laughter, shaking his head. "So how was my boy; any good in the sack?"
"Oh, he was amazing," Ross answered, not in the least bit uncomfortable. He sent me a wink and I groaned audibly.
"Just like his father," mom said, with a satisfied grin. I just wanted the ground to open up and swallow me now. "It was the only thing he was actually good at, Mark's father. Thank God my son takes after me. Is he any good at giving..."
"Okay mom, that's enough," I said, interrupting her before this would get any worse and jabbing my thumb at the door. "Time to go. You've done enough damage for one day." She jumped up from the couch, extending her hand to Ross.
"Well, I'm off. I'm already late as it is. You two; don't do anything I would do," she joked, winking at Ross. He shot her another bright smile as he shook her hand.
"Sorry, but I can't promise you that."
"Good." Then she got up to her toes and whispered loud enough for me to overhear. "The rubbers are in the left nightstand. But I'd check the expiration date before you suit up." I didn't know where to look and grabbed her hand, dragging her to the door as she wobbled behind me.
"I can't believe you said that!" I hissed whispering. "You're doing this on purpose, aren't you? What is he supposed to think of me now?"
"That you practice safe sex?" she answered. At the door she stopped me from pulling it sideways and turned my head her way when I refused to look at her. I felt so embarrassed. "You are safe, right? With all these sicknesses going around..."
"Mom! Please... just go." She kissed me on the cheek and patted my shoulder. "You really need to lighten up, kid."
At that she finally left, leaving me staring after her. Then I closed the door and slowly walked back to the couches, where Ross had sat down again.
"She is... something else," he commented, shaking his head and still laughing. His eyes were twinkling.
"Don't even start with me. ‘I'm a top, actually'?" I said, sending him a look of unbelief. He simply laughed and winked.
"She tried to waltz over me; I didn't let her." He had a point there. Still, I was positively embarrassed.
"I apologize for her behavior. Sometimes she just... she doesn't think before she says something."
"Sounds familiar," he replied, rising from the couch and coming towards me. "I love the shirt." I felt a bit self-conscious and walked backwards, grinning at him while keeping the distance between us.
"You want coffee? I'll make some." I went into the kitchen and opened some cabinets, looking for the coffee. Where the hell did I put it? My mind was a complete blank.
I finally found it just where it always is, and put it on the counter, reaching for two mugs, but Ross had followed me in there and blocked me from doing so. He set two hands on the counter, at either side of me, pinning me in place and turned me around.
"What are you doing?" I asked, my voice sounding a bit nervous.
"Saying hello," he answered, lowering his head. His lips brushed against mine before he pressed them on my mouth and gave me a long, slow kiss. He hummed satisfied when I opened my lips for his seducing tongue. When he finally lifted his head, the nervousness, at least, was gone.
‘Some hello," I said blushing, and he smiled, looking around. I finished making coffee and handed a mug to him. He followed me back to the living room, where we sat down on the floor by the ‘salon' table; two large pieces of rough wood with a glass surface placed on top, allowing your legs to go underneath just barely.
"How did you get this place?" he asked.
"My uncle lived here but remarried some classy lady from
"How much are you paying, if you don't mind me asking?" he asked. I told him and he raised an eyebrow.
"Wow, no wonder you jumped at the chance. Normally, these lofts go for what... fifteen hundred, two thousand?" I nodded, smiling.
"Yeah, I got real lucky."
"You could say that again," Ross agreed.
"So... you live up in
I've never been up there but apparently it was one of the most, if not the
most exclusive park in
"And yes, the stories you heard are true, mostly," he continued, grinning when he saw that I was about to ask him more.
"I didn't..."
"Sure you didn't," he said, winking. "I hear what goes around at the company, what I paid for it and such. So I thought it'd be better to just come out and say it; get it out of the way."
"Out of the way of what?" I asked, still trying to grasp the reality of it. You read about stars in the newspapers or tabloids but you never expect to actually know someone who bought a place for that kind of money.
"Out of the way as in you not being intimidated by it; it's just a house, Mark." I frowned.
"I know that. Why would I...?" I asked. He sighed.
"Most people I meet are staring blindly at the money, the materialism that surrounds it. I'd like you to look beyond that and just see me for what I am; a simple guy who is rapidly falling for you."
He kept looking at me as I digested his words
"I wouldn't go so far as ‘love' yet but..." he said, pausing, "believe me; I know how it feels and it's getting there. And fast."
And now, for the first time since I knew him, Ross Forester actually looked away but when I didn't say anything and just stared at him, he smiled at me and waved a hand in front of my eyes.
"Ehm... Mark?" I snapped out of it when he spoke. "Did that come as a surprise to you?"
"Yeah, kinda... this is going so fast. It's like a rollercoaster ride," I answered. I cleared my throat a few times when he watched me for a long time with an intense look in his eyes. "And now you expect me to say something similar?"
"No," he answered, shaking his head. "I just put it out there so you know that I'm coming for you. I always say what I feel. I hope you feel the same but I won't ask you to say it because you think I want to hear it." I grinned at him shyly.
"Well, I think I kinda feel the same way." I felt warm when the corner of his mouth lifted up.
He slowly got up and moved around the table to where I was sitting, taking the mug from my hand. I looked sideways at him and sent him a slight grin. I'd never done this sort of thing before; admitting feelings toward someone... quite frankly it didn't feel all that comfortable. Who the hell liked feeling this way; nervous, scared and yet exhilarated, all at the same time? I felt like throwing up. And how was it possible, so fast? He made me look at him as he gently forced my chin up with a finger. Then he smiled and took a deep breath.
"I was hoping you'd feel the same. I mean, I was pretty sure and you're right; it is going very fast. I don't want to pressure you into anything..."
"You're not," I replied.
"Good," he whispered. He tilted his head a bit and slowly closed his lips over mine, tentatively.
The kiss was different. Previously, they'd been the lusty kind, hot, erotic... sexual. This one had none of those ingredients. This one was slow in building up, warm, exploring and definitely something to get used to. It was a bit awkward after we let go of each other, and I coughed, he coughed; heck, the whole damn loft seemed to cough.
"Okay, was that as awkward for you as it was for me?" I said, blowing out a deep breath as I leaned back against the couch. But the weird stomach feeling subsided quickly. There was still some there, though. I took my mug, to have something to do with my hands.
"You have no idea how," Ross smiled, shaking his head. "I wasn't at all sure how you'd react, so I just put it out there, to get it over with."
"I had no idea how to react," I admitted, taking a sip from my coffee. Ross reached for it and set it back down on the table.
"Enough talk," he whispered.
**************
I took him on a tour of the loft, showing him the parts he hadn't seen yet, after we'd ordered takeout and had dinner. I found out a few things about Ross that evening that I hadn't expected. For instance that he liked to touch, be close. Not overly or annoyingly and he didn't try to take advantage, which I appreciated. I think a lot of guys would have tried something when I showed him the bedroom upstairs. But now that we had admitted that there was more than just physical attraction, he felt free to go a bit further, hugging me and sometimes stealing kisses.
It was weird, but I became nervous when the clock struck
But when
"I think it's time that I go home," he whispered, when the clock finally went silent. I looked to the stairs and then back to him, and my heart was thudding in my throat when he followed my gaze.
"Do you..." What the hell was wrong with me; we already had slept together.
"Yes," he said, smiling, "I do. But I can't. I have to get up early tomorrow. Make that today. You may have the day off tomorrow, but I don't." He didn't hide his regret. "Believe me; there is nothing else in the world I want, other than to stay, but I have to go."
"Okay," I answered. Right... this was nuts. Now I felt disappointed? I was blowing hot and cold all over the place here.
"Hmm... you could try a little harder, you know," he said, quasi
insulted. But he smiled and rose up from the floor, then reached for mine and
pulled me up. "Listen... it's an hour's drive back, change clothes, drive
back to the office... I'd have to get up at
"Or you could stay," I said, "The office is five minutes from here, so you wouldn't have to get up so early. Buy a new suit on the way to work; like my mom said, you're loaded for crying out loud." A rush of warm breath slammed in my face when he unexpectedly began to laugh and I gave him a grin. "Besides... you can't drive; you drank too many beers."
"Ah, so it was a plot to get me to stay here, huh?" he said, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at me. He looked cute, doing that. Then he grinned and gave me a kiss. "Okay... it worked. Are you sure..." I kissed him back.
"Yeah, I'm sure. Now go up there and do your ‘thang'," I said, "I'll clean up a bit here first, okay?" He nodded and softly patted my behind.
"Hurry up." I grinned and watched him go up, taking two steps at a time.
**************
It might sound strange but amazingly enough, nothing happened that first night. I didn't stay downstairs all that long; maybe ten minutes? I cleared the salon table and took everything to the kitchen. But then I went up, only to find him in bed, on my side I might add, and already sleeping! At first I thought he was playing with me so when I undressed, I kept watching his face. But he didn't even once take a peek. He'd hung his clothes on a chair in the corner, where I usually put mine, but they were put up so neatly that I just dumped mine on the floor; I'd find them in the morning. I went into the bathroom and brushed my teeth, and then crawled into bed, expecting him to make a move; all I got was a soft snore. I couldn't help but start to laugh and watched him for a bit. But my eyes soon became too heavy and I fell asleep as well.
When I woke up, he was already gone, but I had slept in late. It was around eleven when I finally brought myself to getting up. There was a surprise waiting in the kitchen when I came in; all the dirty dishes, glasses and cutlery were gone. Well, not gone; Ross had stacked them on the counter because he didn't know where they all went, but they were clean. I just put the last of it away when the phone rang and I picked up.
"Hello?"
"Finally!" I heard. It sounded impatient. "It's Ross."
"What do you mean ‘finally'?" I asked, grinning like an idiot as I hopped onto the counter. "Did you call before?"
"Only three times," he said, and it sounded like he was smiling. "Sleep well?"
"Like a baby."
"You looked like one," he said, his voice turning intimate. "All rolled up like a fetus."
"Shut up," I replied, rolling my eyes. "Thanks for the dishes."
"You're welcome," he said, "feel like making them dirty again?" The way he said it; he could even make dishes sound erotic.
"In what way?" I asked, suspiciously, and he laughed softly.
"As in lunch."
"That depends... are you going to fall asleep again?" The only answer I got was a deep, threatening growl. "Because I tell ya... I was hot and ready to go last night but..." I exaggerated. In person I might be a chickenshit but on the phone... that was safe enough.
"I'll be hearing this for a while, won't I?" he asked, resigned.
"Yeah," I said slowly. "A long, long time."
"So can I come over?" he asked, laughing.
"Sure. I'll see you at one?"
"A bit sooner, please," he replied. "I think I need some making up time as well." That last sounded soft and promising.
**************
The intercom buzzed at a few minutes before
"Hi," he whispered in my ear. I half turned around and received a kiss on my cheek and when I caught a glimpse of a beige jacket, I completely turned. He grinned and spread his arms.
"Like it? I followed your advice and bought it on the way to work."
Was he kidding? Like it? He looked downright hot! The jacket and pants were beige, and he wore it with a matching tie that he had loosened a bit. He'd also opened the top button of a brightly white shirt, also new. I've always liked to look at a man in a suit; it's a fetish of mine. On the internet I frequently watch pictures of men, usually in the suit & tie category, and I'm not afraid to admit that I occasionally satisfied myself from the pictures. Watching them turned me on and I didn't need to see them engaged in sexual activity, just looking at them got me going in a matter of minutes. Several of my previous, let's call them ‘romantic entanglements' had been with guys who I had met in a bar which the office crowd frequented. It makes me horny and seeing Ross now, yeah... it worked. It's not instant hornyness or something like that but I definitely get receptive to urges of the frisky kind.
I took the tie between my fingers, stroking the soft fabric with my thumb and softly pulled him closer. Ross tilted his head and smiled. I got up to my toes and kissed him, letting one hand slide into his neck and the other around his middle. He opened his lips and softly sucked on my tongue as I deepened the kiss a bit. When he lifted his head he looked downright pleased.
"Glad to know you approve," he said, "what's for lunch?" I turned to finish the preparations and he set his hands on either side of me on the counter, looking over my shoulder while brushing his lips in my neck.
"Salad, sandwiches and... ehm, stop it, you're distracting me."
He softly laughed and went for my ear, touching it with his tongue, which caused me to grab the counter. Damn, that felt good. I lifted my chin and leaned back. He snuck an arm around my middle, pulling me against him.
"Mmmm..." he hummed, pushing with his hips. "I thought about you all morning." I smiled and brought up my hand to let my fingers slide into his hair.
"I wish I could say the same but I was asleep like a rock." He made an insulted sounds and bit into my earlobe, hard enough to make it painful. "Au..."
He let his mouth travel up and down the side of my neck, leaving a trail of tiny bites, placing his other hand on my lower abdomen. Then he let it slide down the front of my jeans and palmed my rapidly growing arousal.
"I'm hard as a rock," he whispered. Lunch was going to have to wait.
**********
"Jesus," he sighed, a couple of times, about an hour later.
"Stop calling me that," I said, caressing his arm, which was still trembling from the strain he had put on it not ten minutes before. He grinned down at me and slowly lowered himself down for a kiss.
"That was... incredible," he whispered, resting his forehead against mine.
"Mmm," I said, making a so-so gesture. "I've had better." He laughed disbelievingly and let himself fall beside me.
"You...did...not...just...say...that," he said, emphasizing each word with each pant. I grinned and put my arms up, shoving my hands underneath my head, and I sighed contently. He rolled onto his side and propped an elbow up, letting his head rest on it. All he did was watch me with this slow, sexy smile on his face.
"I feel like I've been run over by a truck," I sighed, giving him a lopsided grin.
"What a coincidence," he said, winking at me, "I feel like a truck who just ran you over." I was about to stump him when the phone rang, downstairs. I reached for the phone on the nightstand, one of which I had the sound disabled, and picked up.
"Hello?"
"Hello, ‘Norcross, I mean Mark'. Is my son there? This is Sofia Forester."