“I’m the designated,” Greer answered, mesmerized again by the set of beautiful green eyes. How did Greer continually lose focus every time Dallas’s direct gaze landed on him? This time it wasn’t a stealing of his breath like before, but something deeper, more foreign. For a man who controlled everything in his life, Greer could only describe the emotion rolling through him as a giving. A giving of what? He had no idea.
Dallas’s thick, dark eyelashes swept down. They stayed there for a second or two longer than they should. He swayed on his feet, and Greer caught him, jarring Dallas awake again.
“I’m not a big drinker.”
“We’ll get you to your apartment,” Greer whispered, circling an arm around his waist, drawing him closer to his side.
Their closeness had Dallas glancing down at him, a weird expression crossing his face. Dallas’s tongue darted out between his lips and stayed stuck out as he mouthed, “What’s in my mouth?”
Greer couldn’t help the chuckle as Dallas lifted a hand, trying to knock away the offending taste. “It’s a breath mint Skye gave you.”
At first, Dallas didn’t seem to believe Greer until an understanding changed the harsh look on his face. “Mint. Yeah.”
“Come on, big guy.” As much as Greer enjoyed this unguarded exchange, Dallas was getting heavy. Greer started them toward the apartment. The arm around Greer’s shoulders moved, hooking around his neck, drawing him closer to Dallas at a much more awkward angle.
Under the dark skies, Greer leaned Dallas against the exterior wall of his apartment to help hold him up. The happy drunk’s head hit the bricks where his hooded gaze took his fill of Greer. His stare traveled the length of Greer’s face, lingering on his lips before lifting to his eyes. The direct, unabashed stare remained trained on him.
Dallas’s fingertip lifted to Greer’s lower lip, swiping across the length. It might as well have been Dallas’s hand caressing his cock with all the need it provoked.
Something instinctual made Greer release his hold and lean in flush against Dallas’s long body, saying his truth. “I had an unexpectedly good time tonight. I’d kiss you goodnight, but, well…” Greer gave a wince, thinking about how they ended their time together at the club. “I think a kiss on the cheek will have to suffice tonight though.”
Greer didn’t allow himself to overthink. He leaned forward to press his lips against the whiskered skin right above Dallas’s strong jaw. He stayed there, skimming his nose up, breathing Dallas in, taking the hints of a citrusy cologne and slightly musky man deep into his soul. Greer’s hand traveled to Dallas’s bicep, memorizing the feel of the bulge as he moved his mouth higher, to nip at Dallas’s earlobe.
Dallas gave the slightest groan as he turned his head, his mouth pressing against Greer’s neck. Oh fuck, Greer’s body ignited as he closed his eyes, memorizing the feel of those perfect lips touching his skin. “Someday, I’ll be inside you. You can count on that.”
Greer drew back to look into Dallas’s eyes as the apartment door opened, light flooding the small porch. A younger man stepped outside. Greer jumped backward, holding Dallas against the wall by way of one hand pressed to his chest. The guy looked curiously at him, not in a jealous or surprised way. “Skye called and told me you were bringing him home.”
He nodded against the most intense disappointment he might have ever felt in his life. Who was this guy? Greer tried to cover his knee-jerk reactions and finally just stuck out a hand, hoping to hide the fact that he’d just been pressed from head to toe against Dallas’s inviting body. The guy looked at Greer’s offering for several seconds before he reached out and took the handshake. “I did… Yeah. I’m Greer Lockhart.”
“You’re the guy who bought all those boxes.” Greer lifted his brows at the response, wondering how he knew such a thing off the top of his head. “You were fun to watch the other night. Let me help get him inside.” Greer automatically moved out of the way. When the guy gathered Dallas in his arms, he looked casually over his shoulder. “He doesn’t drink that much. I’m Ducky, his brother.”
Hearing the word brother flooded him with an immediate feeling of relief.
As Ducky shifted Dallas and absorbed his weight, Greer watched Ducky melt underneath the bulk of Dallas’s body. They both headed for the concrete, and Greer reached out to help hoist Dallas off Ducky.
“Let me.”
Together they pushed Dallas back against the wall. Greer leaned in to haul Dallas over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. As he absorbed Dallas’s weight, Greer blew out a quick breath and groaned. He was relieved his knees didn’t buckle under the weight.
“Where to?”
“His room’s this way.” Ducky led the way through a tiny apartment. A computer desk and sofa took up most of the living room. There were no pictures on the walls, but hundreds and hundreds of stacked BikeBro cardboard boxes taking every available space.