Well-Tailored (Thorne and Dash 4)

Darius leaned over and whispered right by Marc’s ear. “That’s not all that needs to be filled.”

Marc grinned. “Behave.”

“You know by now that’s never going to happen. Were you and Riley…?”

Marc shook his head. “Never seriously.”

Darius managed to look both pleased and disappointed. “I’m a bit surprised. He’s hot as fuck.”

“Yes, he is. And damned inventive. Thorne is a lucky man.”

“So am I.”

“You’re damn right you are, and don’t forget it.” Marc tried to tell himself Darius was saying those words with his usual snarky tone, except Darius’s voice had gone almost wistful. Fuck.

“So you’re saying that you might require someone to spend an entire weekend with you just because Riley can’t do that anymore.”

“Yes.” It was Marc’s turn to whisper now. “And they might have to give me a few blowjobs, just for form’s sake.”

Darius cleared his throat, but before he responded, a voice filled the auditorium.

“Ladies and gentlemen…”

Any further flirting would have to wait until after the show.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

The performance was phenomenal—as funny as it had been the first time Darius had seen it—but what made the night for him was watching Marc laugh and smile and glance over at Darius to share the humor. The way he leaped to his feet at the end with a look of pure joy on his face made Darius’s chest tighten.

“That was incredible!” Marc shouted over the buzz of the crowd.

“Yes, it was.” Darius didn’t just mean the play.

“You ready to go?”

Darius nodded and turned to move down the aisle. What he wasn’t ready for was Marc’s impact on his life. He’d never had feelings like this for anyone, certainly not for Oscar. He’d thought he was in love with the man, but he was nothing more than infatuated. What he felt for Marc was far more potent. And that was terrifying.

Part of him wanted to run, to make some excuse and leave Marc there. He could. He could even keep running. Gary had let him know the potential buyer was still interested. He had until the end of the year to respond.

But the rest of him, the part that had been feeling bored and restless, wanted to jump right in even though he doubted he could swim in these waters. Would it be so bad to drown in the emotions Marc stirred in him?

Panic rose, and he began walking aggressively, pushing past people without even acknowledging them.

“Slow down,” Marc called.

He couldn’t. He needed to get to the door. He needed air. He needed…

Finally, he stepped out into the chilly evening. The air swirled around him as leaves scattered over the pavement. He could breathe again.

“What was that about?” Marc asked when he caught up to him.

“I…don’t like crowds.”

Marc’s expression said he wasn’t buying that. And why should he? Darius hadn’t had any trouble on the way in.

“I almost lost you.”

“I just needed air. You could’ve texted me if you didn’t see me.”

Marc deserved a better explanation, but what was he supposed to say: I realized I’m in love with you and I freaked out?

Oh, fuck. He wasn’t… He didn’t… “Marc, I don’t know if—”

“Why don’t we go to my place? I have rope, so we won’t have to use a shirt.”

Darius’s brain nearly short-circuited at the image Marc’s words brought to mind—Marc with his wrists bound, begging Darius to fuck him. His mind might be conflicted about spending the night with Marc, but his dick was all in. “Okay, let’s go.”

“I’ve got an Uber on the way.”

***

As they walked to the door of his building, Marc said, “Are you sure about this?”

Yes. No. “Fucking you? Hell, yes.”

That got them a glare from an older man who was walking out as they went in.

“Try not to scandalize my neighbors.”

Darius snorted. “I would think you and Riley had already done a good job of that.”

“We’re quite well behaved. Thorne’s stunt when he came to win Riley back got a few complaints, though.”

“I bet.” Darius had heard all about Thorne’s recreation of the boom-box scene in Say Anything.

“Stop being difficult. I know you’re okay with us fucking. I mean the rest of this.”

“This not-dating thing we’re doing?”

Marc rolled his eyes. “Yes.”

“I’m not the least bit okay with it.”

“What does that mean?” Marc asked.

The hurt in Marc’s eyes told Darius he was being too honest. “That I can’t stop myself. That you’ve utterly captivated me, and it’s unnerving.” This time a group of three young women overheard him. They giggled and kept stealing glances at Darius and Marc.

“For someone so unwilling to talk about—”

“Don’t say it.” Darius didn’t want to panic again like he had getting out of the theater. “Just take me upstairs and have your way with me.”

Marc raised a brow. “I thought it was the other way around, unless you’re offering.”

One of the girls whistled, and Marc winked at her.

“Enough.” Darius grabbed his arm and steered him toward the elevator.