“Are you hungry?” he asked, and Key’s gaze left the mirror and landed on his.
“I’m not stayin’ that long,” Key answered, and Alec’s brow furrowed deeply.
“Why? Do you have something to do tonight?”
“Somethin’ like that.”
Alec stared at Key as he continued brushing through his damp hair. “Stay. Please. I’ve got nothing going on tonight. You were a good diversion to an otherwise shitty day. Stick around. We can eat then do this again. I want my turn.” Alec lifted a foot to the towel Key wore, using his toes to tug at the material. Unfortunately, the knot held, but it loosened enough to shift the towel farther down Key’s hips.
“I don’t bottom,” Key muttered. That time, he didn’t look over at Alec. Alec laughed, determined to accept the challenge in those words. No one ever bottomed, until they did and rarely went back.
“Why? You scared of what I got?” Alec teased.
“I ain’t scared of nothing,” Key stated boldly. Alec was certain no truer words had ever been spoken, but it didn’t change anything. Alec was also certain he needed to be inside Key before this night was over.
“I don’t usually bottom, but when it’s done right, it’s fucking amazing,” Alec explained.
“Did I do it right?” Key’s eyes were back on him. For the briefest of moments, a hint of insecurity shone through the tough-guy facade. Key’s concern was endearing and spoke volumes to the depth of the man before him, but Alec suspected Key didn’t like that emotion, or perhaps didn’t like anyone seeing that he had any emotion, with as quickly as he averted his gaze. With much more force than he’d used before, Key tugged the brush through the wet tangled strands on his head.
“You were incredible. I usually like it a little rougher, though.” Alec chuckled, drawing Key’s gaze back to him. “Honestly, I just like sex. You surprised me, that’s all. Foreplay, such a simple act that makes the whole experience hotter.” Alec again used his toes to pull at the terry cloth hanging at Key’s waist. This time the towel came free, pooling at Key’s feet. Alec couldn’t guess what Key’s reaction was to his statement, or losing his towel, because he only had eyes for the tempting cock hanging between Key’s thighs and the dip and curve of his ass as he turned to retrieve the lost towel.
Yeah, no clothes were the best clothes.
Alec had to bite his lip to keep from acting on the immediate burst of lust racking his body. If he chose that direction, the move might possibly send Key home early, something he damn sure didn’t want. Alec looked around, before pushing off the counter and going for Key’s T-shirt lying on the floor. “Why don’t I wash your clothing?”
“Are you sayin’ I’m dirty?” A hard-edged defensiveness laced every single one of those words. Alec let the T-shirt hang from his hands as he again made eye contact in the mirror. Key didn’t try to mask this new hint of emotion, something akin to hurt that shifted his expression. Alec found that intriguing, but more so, his own reaction of wanting to immediately wipe that pain away took center stage.
“Not at all,” he answered honestly. While he recognized there was more developing between them than just sex, this new thing…whatever it was…seemed to be growing at a rapid pace. Alec couldn’t remember ever being in this position before. He had to walk softly, tread carefully. The need to defuse whatever emotion rested on Key’s handsome face was as tangible as the T-shirt in his hand.
“Yeah.” The gruff, I’m-a-badass-biker tone had returned, the hurt now present with the locked-jaw expression he now wore.
“No, Key. Honest.” Alec came back to him, leaning on the counter to look at Key face-to-face. He took a deep breath. “I’ll fess up. I had a truly grueling day, then you were here and made everything better. If we wash these clothes, then it keeps you here at least a couple more hours, right?”
Key stared at him. Damn, this quiet thing was hard to figure out. Had Alec gotten too needy already? His words too telling? He slipped on his grin—the one people had called charming—and cocked his head, hoping to lighten the mood.
“Isn’t that how it goes? And if I wash them on a heavy cycle, then dry them on a low cycle, I could maybe pull three more hours out. Right?”
It worked. Key’s expression turned quizzical. Right then, Alec knew how to read Key. If he watched close enough, all the feelings were on his face, sometimes only for a second or two, but the emotion was still there. “You don’t know how to run a washin’ machine, do you?”
“Not the point.” Alec lifted an index finger and waved it in Key’s face, driving the non-point home. Alec shoved off the counter and headed for the bathroom door. From the corner of his eyes, he caught Key tightening the towel around his waist. All he could do was shake his head and change course, going toward his closet.