Well-Tailored (Thorne and Dash 4)

Darius had never been one to subscribe to the idea of a delayed reward. He wanted what he wanted, and he saw no reason to wait to take it. But the thought of spending all evening lusting after Marc, and then taking him home and having him every way he wanted all night long without the need to get up early the next day…

“I hope you have a lot of stamina because once will not be enough after an evening of waiting.”

Marc gave a slow, wicked smile. “I have every confidence I can take anything you have to give.”

Darius offered Marc a bite of chicken. After taking it, Marc closed his eyes and groaned, then licked the fork, quite thoroughly.

Darius’s pants had grown very tight. “This is your final warning. I will drag you out of here if you keep that up.”

Marc brushed some imaginary lint off his sweater. “I have no idea what you mean. You’ve obviously mistaken my intentions. I am here to enjoy this award-winning food, nothing else.”

Darius narrowed his eyes, and Marc winked at him.

“What exactly are you asking for with this attitude?”

Marc pretended to be interested in his pasta, but after he finished another bite, he said, “Remember the shirt, the one you didn’t want me to take off?”

Darius swallowed hard and nodded. He remembered every single thing about that night.

“I want you to follow through on your promise.”

Holy fuck! “You like those sorts of games?” Darius asked.

“Rarely, and you?”

“The same. I usually don’t care for games, but with you, getting to the main event is more entertaining than with most.”

Marc sat up straighter. “Then I’m very flattered.”

***

“I’m going to have to go back there,” Darius said as they walked to the theater.

The night air was cold, but Marc barely registered it. He was walking so close to Darius, he swore he could feel the man’s heat. “Seductive, isn’t it?”

“The chicken piccata was expertly made, but I would go back just for the tiramisu.”

“So you admit I was right to order it.” Darius had tried to protest, saying he was too full.

“Fine. You were right.”

“Ah, the best words in the world.”

“Fuck off. I wonder if they sell that tiramisu by the pan. Then I could devour it like a wild beast in the privacy of my own home.”

Marc laughed. He couldn’t be happier that he’d brought out this teasing, lighter side of Darius. He lusted hard for the arrogant bastard who presided over the shop, but this Darius was someone he’d want to spend all day with. Despite all his intentions, he was falling for this man and falling hard.

There was already quite a crowd in the theater lobby when they arrived. They maneuvered past the merchandise counter and up the stairs to the lower mezzanine. Their seats were on the third row near center stage.

“So you and Clarice have season tickets?”

Darius nodded. “We started getting them together several years ago.”

“I love how close you two are.”

“Don’t you dare say it’s sweet.”

It totally was. “It’s…endearing.”

Darius gave a look of disgust. “That’s almost as bad.”

“You need someone to put you in your place.”

“I thought you were trying to take that job.”

“I hate to say it, but Clarice has me beat.” She was not a woman Marc would want to cross.

They thumbed through their programs in silence for the next few moments. Then Marc gazed around the theater. Every seat was filled, and he could hear the excitement in the buzz of the crowd. The curtain would rise any minute now.

Darius reached over and took his hand.

Marc couldn’t have been more shocked.

“I want to make sure you do understand this is not a date.”

Marc looked down at their joined hands and warmth spread through him. “You did ask me to dinner.”

“That was only to be polite. We both had to eat.”

“True, but we could’ve just shown up separately. There was no requirement that we come together just because our seats are side by side.”

Darius shook his head. “I felt responsible for you. I had to see that you arrived on time.”

“Right, because we know I have a record of chronic lateness.”

“Sometimes you arrive at work only two or three minutes early.”

“I do. So is this not-a-date a one-off?”

Darius ran his thumb over the back of Marc’s hand. “That depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether we need to be in the same place at the same time again.”

“You never know when we might both need to watch more old movies.”

“I never go on non-dates with people who mock my age.” Darius glared at him and tried to pull his hand away.

“But you give such a fun reaction,” Marc said. “Way before Riley was with Thorne, he and I would sometimes spend entire weekends lying around the apartment, watching movies and eating cake. It’s been a while since I’ve had that pleasure, and there’s no one to fill that position.” Would Darius go for spending a whole weekend together, or was that too big of a leap?