Chapter Twenty-Two

SINCE he didn’t have to work that week, Blake met Heidi for lunch on Monday at Stella’s. He was tempted to wear a turtleneck just so she wouldn’t see the collection of bruises and beard burn all over his neck, but it had warmed up on Sunday, not unreasonable for the first week of April, so she’d be even more likely to comment if he did. He wasn’t ashamed of the marks. They were just private. Then again, if anyone would understand what it meant to him to be Thane’s lover, it was her.

She was already there when he arrived, and by the time he sat down, she had a smirk on her face. “I’d ask you if you had a good weekend, but your neck already answered my question.”

Blake couldn’t stop the probably silly grin that crossed his face every time he thought about Saturday night and Sunday. “Yeah, I had a good weekend.”

She swatted at him across the table. “You have to tell me more than that.”

“We went to Boone Tavern for dinner on Saturday night,” Blake said, “and didn’t come home until Sunday afternoon.”

“Was it as good as you dreamed it would be?”

There wasn’t the slightest comparison. The Thane of his dreams wasn’t real. He didn’t radiate heat like a furnace. He didn’t use his beard to devastating effect. He didn’t have tender hands hiding beneath his calluses. He didn’t fold himself around Blake as they slept, like he could keep all the bad things in the world away. Blake’s only regret was waking up alone this morning.

“Better.”

MEET me for lunch?

Blake smiled at the text from Thane on Tuesday morning. He didn’t have plans for the day other than doing laundry, and that could wait until later. When and where?

I’m working not far from your apartment. What’s good and close?

Why don’t you come here for lunch? I’ll pick something up.

You just want a quickie.

And you don’t?

;)

I’ll have lunch ready at noon.

Thane didn’t answer, but Blake figured he’d have texted back if there was a problem. That gave him forty minutes to figure out lunch. He could get chicken salad and some fresh bread from the Mousetrap, and they could make sandwiches. He didn’t know how long Thane could afford to be gone, all joking about quickies aside, but they could eat and talk. Anything else would be a bonus.

Not that he’d complain if Thane had enough time for them to linger.

A quick trip to the store and some tidying up later, Blake was finally ready for Thane to arrive. He set out dishes—nothing fancy, but the faster they could eat, the more time they’d have for other things—and debated turning on the TV. The doorbell rang before he could decide what to do.

It figured Thane was early.

He opened the door and tilted his head up for a kiss as soon as Thane stepped inside. Thane bent to meet him and swept his tongue between Blake’s parted lips with no preamble. Blake moaned and pressed up into the contact as Thane grabbed his ass with both hands and squeezed.

“You’re going to kill me,” Thane mumbled against Blake’s lips.

“Me? You’re the one who brought sex into the conversation.”

“I take one look at you, and all I can think about is kissing you again,” Thane said.

“How long can you stay?” Blake asked breathlessly.

“I’m the boss. What are they going to do? Fire me?”

Blake grinned even as he crowded Thane back against the door. The rumble of Thane’s stomach interrupted them. Laughing, Blake took a step back. “I guess I’d better feed you first. Is chicken salad okay?”

“I usually grab whatever fast-food hamburger is closest,” Thane admitted. “Chicken salad sounds great.”

“It’s all set out in the kitchen.”

Thane took up way too much space for Blake’s tiny kitchen, but Blake didn’t complain when he squeezed past Thane to get them both a glass of water and Thane ground against him. “Food first,” he scolded.

“How much is left to do on the sets?” Thane asked.

Blake grabbed at the change of subject. They needed to talk about something else or they’d never manage to eat lunch.

“Not much. We’ll probably be done by midweek. After that, it’s all performance stuff. Lights, sound, prop checks, scene changes. Still a lot to do, but a different kind of work.”

“Probably not something I’d be useful with,” Thane said.

“Probably not, although I’ll miss seeing you,” Blake said. He handed the chicken salad and bread to Thane.

“That just means we’ll have to plan a little more carefully,” Thane replied. “Having dinner on Saturdays was fine when I got to see you every afternoon, but you see how long I lasted this week.”

“Two days isn’t that long,” Blake teased.

“And here I thought I’d done good not trying to get you to come out with me last night,” Thane replied.

“You could have called. I wasn’t busy.”

“What about once school starts back up?” Thane asked. “I mean, I know you’ll be at the theater for rehearsals, but what about dinner afterward some nights?”

“I’m usually free in the evenings, except on Fridays,” Blake said.

“Your standing happy-hour date,” Thane said with a nod. “I wouldn’t dream of suggesting you miss that. So we could go out other nights besides Saturday.”

“Yes. Sometimes I have event supervision duties, but because I work with the theater as much as I do, I don’t have as many extra events as some of the other principals. I get all my extra hours in with the plays,” Blake explained. “I’m not exactly the most interesting person in the city.”

“I think you are,” Thane countered.

Blake wolfed down the remains of his sandwich. “Eat fast.”

Thane laughed. “Why? Do you have other plans?”

“What do you think?” Blake asked even as he blushed at how forward he was being. Thane didn’t care. If anything, he liked it. Thane pushed his chair back and patted his thigh. Blake was around the table in a flash to straddle Thane’s legs. He enjoyed the novelty of looking down into Thane’s face for once. Thane nuzzled his jaw.

“I suppose I’d better be careful about leaving marks.”

“No more bruises where they’ll show,” Blake agreed. “I have to look respectable on Monday.”

“What about where they won’t show?”

Blake ground down against Thane in lieu of a reply. Thane groaned beneath him, sending a thrill through Blake at the thought of everything he wanted to do to and with Thane. Thane cupped Blake’s ass—no surprise now after he’d made his appreciation crystal clear over the weekend—and kneaded gently. Blake pulled the tie from Thane’s hair and ran his fingers through it before bending to kiss Thane hungrily.

“There are better places to do this,” Thane pointed out when Blake lifted his head. “I know you have a couch, and I’m sure you have a bed. We’d be much more comfortable there.”

Blake grabbed Thane’s hand and pulled him toward the bedroom.

“Do you have supplies?” Thane asked. “I didn’t leave home this morning with this in mind.”

“You mean you don’t carry lube in your pocket at work?” Blake teased. “Yes, I have supplies. With your nephews at your place, I figured we’d end up here sooner or later.”

Thane followed Blake into the bedroom and pulled him back into an embrace, running his hands over Blake’s chest as Blake leaned back against him. “You didn’t answer my question earlier. Can I leave marks where they won’t show?” He tweaked Blake’s nipple with one hand and squeezed his hip with the other. “I can think of all kinds of places I’d like to put my mouth.”

BLAKE returned to school the following Monday with no hickeys visible—it wasn’t anyone’s business if he had one on his hip and another on the inside of his thigh—and spent the morning wishing it was already afternoon. They’d have to keep things under wraps at stage crew, but Thane had suggested they grab dinner with Kit and Phillip after they finished working on the sets. Kit and Phillip would have homework to do after that, leaving Blake and Thane to spend the evening together. Blake still wasn’t sure how he felt about having sex with Thane while the boys were in the house, but they could do other things instead. Watch TV or put on a movie or just sit and talk.

The crackling of his radio dragged him out of the fantasy.

… Parkins… with Hune on the….

“Mr. Barnes, you’ve got to come help!” Darcy ran into Blake’s office before he could ask for clarification over the radio.

“What’s going on?” Blake asked as he followed Darcy out of the office at a dead run.

“Kit,” Darcy gasped. “One of the bullies was shouting that it was Kit’s fault he didn’t get a scholarship. Phillip and Zach tried to stop him, but I think he got at least one punch in. I did what you always told us to do. I came to get you.”

They rounded a corner to find security on the scene, Kit on the ground with his nose bleeding and what would be one hell of a shiner before long, and Mason Hune, the ringleader of the bullies Blake had thought they’d dealt with, being held by one of the security guards. Zach and Phillip stood guard on either side of Kit. Blake knelt down next to him. “What happened?”

“He came at me,” Kit said. “He said….” Kit stopped and glanced to where the other boy was still struggling.

“Look at me, Kit,” Blake urged. “Talk to me. Let security deal with him.”

“He said it was my fault he didn’t get a scholarship because he wasn’t playing when the scouts came to watch the baseball team. He called me a fucking faggot and said he’d see how much I liked getting fucked over. It was only fair since that’s what I’d done to him.”

Blake turned to security. “Take him to my office. I’ll be there in a moment to deal with him.” He reached for Kit and helped him to his feet. “Let’s get you to the nurse and get you cleaned up. It’s going to be okay. I won’t let him hurt you again.”

“Promise?” Blake would have sold his soul to erase the fear in Kit’s eyes.

“Promise.”