“There,” he murmured, pulling back just a little, his amber eyes meeting my gaze. “You got what you wanted.”
I swallowed hard. I had to be bold. If I didn’t do it now, it could be a long time before I had another opportunity this good, standing right in front of me.
I reached out and ran my hand up his thigh, placing my palm right on his bulge.
“Fuck, you’re big,” I said involuntarily, squeezing my hand around the outline of his cock. He shuddered at my touch, and I squeezed him again, loving the reaction.
“No. No, no, no. Bad idea,” he said, his voice low and measured, as he gently removed my hand from his cock.
“Aww,” I said.
“If you still want it tomorrow, when you’re all sobered up, I’ll consider it,” he said, pushing his hair back with his fingers.
“Tomorrow,” I said, liking the sound of it. “So you’re letting me stay here tonight?”
“You can stay,” he said. “I’ll take you back to your car in the morning.”
“What if you’re a murderer? I barely know you.”
“I mean, I can take you back to your car right now, if you—”
“No,” I said quickly, and a little too loudly. “No. I want to stay. Really badly, actually.”
He looked at me closely, chewing the inside of his cheek. “You hate being alone in your house now, don’t you?”
My chest felt heavy. “I hate it so much,” I said. “The house is so big and empty without everyone there. It feels wrong. Like I’m in a fake, model home, where a family should be, but they’re not there.”
“Shitty fucking feeling,” he said, a sadness behind his eyes. “Getting back from Afghanistan, I had a terrible time being in any place alone. We always slept in rooms with six, eight, ten guys. It wasn’t safe otherwise, a lot of the nights. You get used to needing people around.”
I swallowed. “Right.”
“In any case,” he said, changing the subject, “especially if you’ve been drinking tonight, I don’t want you driving home, anyway.”
Luke seemed to think I was hitting on him because I was drunk, but he didn’t even realize that I hadn’t had any hard liquor tonight. Perry and Sam had been trying out new cocktails for their small non-alcoholic menu earlier, and I’d happily accepted virgin daiquiris and coladas as I worked on my crossword, then followed it with a single beer.
But I wasn’t going to push things. I’d already kissed the first new person in twenty years tonight, and it was disorientingly good.
“Okay,” I said. “Am I at least allowed to jerk off to the thought of that kiss next time I’m alone, though?”
He laughed. “It would be an honor, Cam.”
He walked back across the small stone path, heading toward the house.
“What are we doing now?” I asked.
“I’m going to make eggs and bacon and toast,” Luke said. “Because I’m hungry as hell. How do you like your eggs?”
“It’s ten o’clock at night.”
“Yes, and?” he said, glancing back at me as we walked. “How do you like your eggs?”
“Scrambled.”
“Oh, you’re easy.”
“I’m easy in other ways, too, but you’re not taking me up on that,” I said.
I saw the smile on his face as he pushed open the back door of the house, leading me inside. The door opened to a small mudroom. Just through another doorway was the kitchen, similarly humble. Most of the fixtures looked straight out of the eighties, and other than a toaster oven and a spice rack, the countertops were bare.
I glanced past, seeing that the living room was even barer. There was a big, old couch, a tiny folding table, and no TV.
“So the DIY projects only apply to the outside of the house,” I said.
“Hm?” Luke said, reaching into a cabinet and pulling out a frying pan. “Oh. Yeah. Haven’t done much with the inside.”
“And you’ve been living here for four years?” I asked.
“Little over four, yep,” he confirmed.
As he got to work with the eggs and bacon, I wandered down the small hallway. There were two bedrooms, one of them about the size of a closet and just full of boxes. The “master” bedroom looked more like a college dorm room. There was a queen size bed, at least, with clean sheets and a few pillows. But no decoration at all. No fluff. Luke used another small wooden folding table as his nightstand, and the rest of the room was empty.
I stopped to use the restroom on my way back, freshening up and inspecting myself in the mirror. Pretty boy. Was I pretty? I definitely liked that he thought so. I did still look like a college student, even though I was thirty-six. But compared to Luke, I felt delicate, almost. I couldn’t dream of being as rugged as him. I loved how his big, callused hands felt on my skin.