DEREK

A lullaby.

I couldn’t get over it. He sang a lullaby to his little sister when she couldn’t sleep. Of all the things about Maxim that I’d learned, that one was my favorite. And he’d looked so miserable as he sang it in my kitchen. His singing voice was almost as terrible as mine.

But it was so fucking sweet. And I hadn’t been lying when I said I found it sexy—I did. There wasn’t much about Maxim I didn’t find sexy. Even in my old jeans—or maybe especially in my old jeans—and his work shirt, he looked amazing. But he was amazing on the inside too. Smart and funny, kind and genuine.

And I trusted him. It was astonishing to me how much I trusted Maxim after such a short period of time. We’d only met four days ago, and yet I felt more at ease with him than I’d felt with anyone in a long time. I could be myself around him in a way I couldn’t around other people. My real self, without hiding anything. There was such relief in that, and I felt incredibly grateful for it. If he never paid me a dime for the clothes or the rent or anything else I did for him, I wouldn’t care. This feeling was worth everything, even if it wouldn’t last forever.

“Okay, here you go.” He set a plate down in front of me, and I moaned in anticipation, my mouth watering. On it was what looked like four thick pancakes, fried to a golden brown, dusted with powdered sugar, and drizzled with honey. A big spoonful of something white—sour cream, maybe?—sat off to one side, and raspberries were scattered on top of it all.

“This looks delicious. What are they again?”

“Syrniki. You say it now.”

I made an attempt, which I thought was pretty good, but Maxim laughed anyway.

“There, your first Russian word. I want you to learn four more by the end of the day.” He put his plate down and took the chair across from me. I noticed how he’d known where everything was to set the table, from the placemats to the napkins to the utensils, and got a ridiculous kick from seeing him so familiar with my kitchen.

“I’ll try,” I promised. Unable to wait a second longer, I picked up my fork and knife and cut a bite, making sure to get a little of everything so I’d taste all the flavors. I put it in my mouth and moaned again.

Maxim grinned. “Good, right?”

I chewed slowly, appreciating the slight crisp on the outside and the soft, doughy inside. A little sweet, a little savory, the perfect balance. “How do you say delicious in Russian?”

“In this case, vkusnyy.”

“Well, this is fucking vkusnyy.”

He laughed. “I’m so glad you like it. You’ll have to let me cook dinner for you sometime too.”

“You can cook for me any time you want,” I mumbled, my mouth full. “This is so good.”

He smiled, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Thank you.”

After breakfast, I helped Maxim clean up the kitchen and we went up to my bedroom so I could give him the clothing I’d bought. He stood near the doorway while I went to my closet and retrieved the bag, pulling out the receipt and tucking it into my pocket. He’d see the price tags, so it was probably a silly gesture, but maybe I could convince him they’d been on sale. I had a feeling he was going to protest they were too expensive.

When I came back in the room, he was still standing by the door, looking around curiously. “Looks different in here in the light,” he said sheepishly.

“Oh. Right.” I glanced at the bed, which I’d made this morning after changing the sheets. The sight of it made my stomach muscles clench. Was it too soon to do it again? Was he sore? Don’t think about it. “So. Here you go.” I handed him the bag. “If you want to try them on in here, you can. I have a full-length mirror on the door.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll give you some privacy,” I said, moving toward the door. I didn’t want him to think I was trying to get him to strip in front of me—not that I’d complain. But he caught my arm.

“You can stay.” He smiled. “I don’t mind.”

Fuck, every time he gave me that look, the one that said I’ll show you mine if you show me yours, I wanted to throw him down and roll around naked.

I cleared my throat and perched on the edge of the bed. “Okay.”

He took off his clothes, and I openly stared at his body. Jesus. No wonder I’d lost my mind last night. In fact, I was kind of sad to see his legs and ass disappear into the new jeans, but glad they fit him. “They look great,” I said, repositioning myself so my swelling erection wasn’t trapped uncomfortably.

“Thanks.” He shrugged into one of the shirts I’d picked out and buttoned it up. “What do you think?”

I think you’re perfect. “Is it a little too big? It might be too baggy around your waist. But I’m not sure the next size down would fit you in the shoulders.”

He frowned. “I don’t know. It feels comfortable.”

“Try the other one.”

He traded the first shirt for the second. “This one feels good too. How does it look?”

Like I want to rip it off you. “Great. You like it?”

“Yes.”

“It’s yours. I think we should take the other one back.”

He looked worried. “Take it back? But you took it home and I wore it. They will do it?”

“Yes. The tags are still on. I promise they’ll do it.”

He smoothed the shirt over his stomach. “I really like this. I’m glad you chose it.”

“Good. Do you want to look in the mirror?”

“No, that’s okay.” He smiled. “If you say it looks good on me, I’ll believe you.”

“It does. Do you want to wear it today?”

He thought for a second. “I better wear my work shirt in case we don’t have time to come back here.” As he was taking off the button-down, he noticed a price tag hanging from the label. “Eighty dollars?” he asked incredulously. “For one shirt?”

“It’s not that much.” I rose to my feet and picked up the one to be returned and placed it in the bag. That one had cost even more.

“To me, it is.” His blue eyes were wide.

“I told you, you don’t have to pay me back right away.”

“I want to,” he said firmly, putting the shirt in the bag. “So we need to return this one, too. Someday I will be able to afford luxury clothes, but not yet.”

It kind of broke my heart that he thought an eighty-dollar shirt was a luxury item. “Maxim, please keep it. As a gift.”

“No.”

“Listen, it makes me happy to do things for people. So it’s not for you, it’s for me. Keep it for me, so I can feel good about myself.”

He shook his head, but he smiled. “You’re crazy.”

“I’m not. I just like you.”

His smile grew wider as he reached down and grabbed his work shirt and pulled it on. “I like you, too. And I’m so—” He looked down at his chest. “Oh, fuck.”

“What?”

“I put my shirt on inside out.” Quickly, he scrambled to get it off.

“So?”

“If you put your shirt on inside out, it means you will get beaten.”

“Beaten! By who?”

“By anyone.” He turned the shirt right side out and put it on again. “That’s why you should punch me.”

I shrank back. “Are you insane?”

“No! It’s symbolic. You have to punch me so that I will get the beating from you, not from someone who really wants to do it.” He said this in all seriousness, then turned to face me. “I’m ready. Go ahead.”

“Maxim, I’m not going to punch you.”

“You have to!” But he was laughing now. “A little punch, okay? Otherwise, I won’t feel right.”

“Oh my God. I can’t even believe this. What’s the Russian word for crazy?”

“Sumasshedshiy. Say it. Then punch me.”

“Sumasshedshiy.” I completely mangled it, then I gently nudged his rock-hard abs with my fist. “That’s all you get.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You punch like a girl.”

“What?” I dropped the shopping bag and tackled him, throwing him onto the bed, pinning him beneath me. “Take it back.”

He was laughing so hard his eyes were shiny. “Even Liliya hits harder than you.”

“Take it back.”

“No, because then you’ll get off me, and I’m enjoying this.”

I was too, of course. What was better than Maxim trapped beneath me? It reminded me of last night. My dick, which had never really settled down after seeing Maxim undress, was now on its way to full tilt. I pressed it into him. “You’d enjoy it even more with your pants off.”

His eyes lit up. “I agree.”

A minute later, we were buck naked and right back where we’d been before, with me straddling his hips. We kissed feverishly as I moved my body over his. God, I’d never get enough of the way it felt to be pressed skin to skin, muscle to muscle with him this way. For a second, two weeks seemed much too short a time limit.

Well, that’s what you’ve got. So make the most of it.

“Derek. Will you do something for me?”

“What?”

“Turn around.”

“Turn around?”

“Yes.” He put his lips to my ear. “I want my mouth on you.”

I hesitated, feeling strangely proprietary about my ass, given what I’d done to his last night. But it had been nighttime then. It had been dark. There had been whiskey involved. Right now it was daytime, the room was light, and I was all hopped up on caffeine and sugar.

“Please,” he said, his tongue tracing my earlobe, sucking it into his mouth. “I promise, it will feel so good.”

I was curious. I wanted to know what it felt like. And I was obsessively fastidious about my body, so I was shaven and clean. But…could I? Was there such a thing as being too gay? What transgressions were allowable and what was too much? At what intrusion would I draw the line?

He wants this. Don’t overthink it. “Okay.”

I flipped around so I was straddling his upper body, my hands braced on either side of him. He hooked his arms under my thighs and pulled me back so my ass was right in his face. I didn’t even have time to feel self-conscious before his tongue swept slowly up the crease, sending me into near paroxysms. I could have wept for how divine it felt. How hot and wet. How intimate. I’d totally planned on blowing him since my mouth was down there and all, but I couldn’t do a goddamn thing except groan and writhe and let my eyeballs roll back in my head. Maxim held nothing back. He used his tongue, his lips, his teeth, his hands. He moaned with pleasure, as if I was the best thing he’d ever tasted. His thick, hard cock twitched on his abdomen, a few drops of cum oozing from its tip. This is turning him on.

The thought of it sent me spiraling selfishly toward release. I rocked my hips over his face, fucking his tongue. I propped myself on one hand and took my dick in the other, jerking myself hard and fast. I gnashed my teeth and snarled and cursed and ejaculated all over him, marking his body with warm, white ribbons of cum. The sight of it splashing onto his stomach, his cock, his thighs, was so deliciously obscene, my orgasm seemed to go on forever.

The second I could control my body again, I grabbed his dick with one hand and licked it clean like an ice cream cone, swirling my tongue around the tip. He moaned, and the sound reverberated through my entire body. I lowered and lifted my head, taking him to the back of my throat again and again and again, until he warned me with a trembling voice that he was going to come and I took him even deeper. A second later, his fingers dug into my flesh and his entire body stiffened beneath me as his cock throbbed repeatedly inside my mouth.

Good fucking God, it was insane how much I liked it. And him. And this little arrangement we had.

At this rate, we were never going to leave the house.