Page 65 of Sapphire Spring

But the fact was, Mason’s breakdown had been too much, toointense. He’d overloaded the guy. Or worse, Naser had gotten all he wanted outof him, and that was that. Three hours of office work that edged on manuallabor and an orgasm loud enough to scare seagulls.

And if that’s how Naser wanted his amends, there was littleMason could say about it.

Then he pulled through the guard gate to his street and sawthe guy’s white Volvo still parked across from Mason’s garage. His first deepbreath in hours made him sag.

Curled up on one of the big white sofas in the living room,Naser dozed in the television’s flicker as the happy chatter of a homerenovation show filled the house.

Here.

A single word, swelling inside of Mason because it meant somany other things. Things like hope.

He hadn’t left, butalsohe washere,after a decade’s worth of distance and separation during which he’d rarely leftMason’s thoughts. And dreams.

He wanted to pull him into his arms and devour him withpassionate kisses, but Shirley’s caution about not using people as vodka whisperedto him. Gently, Mason settled into the sofa a few feet away, then liftedNaser’s bare feet onto his lap. Naser stirred, dark eyelashes fluttering. Masonwatched him. Once his heart rate had slowed and the adrenaline released byunreasonable panic dissolved into something that felt less terrifyingly potent,he ran one finger lightly along the ball of Naser’s bare foot, hoping to rousehim with a teasing reminder of their session a few hours earlier.

It worked. Naser laughed gently and shifted. When his eyesopened, he looked drowsy and content, not frightened and concerned like he’dbeen when Mason had blubbered in front of him like some pussy.

I’m not a pussy, Banjo. Shut up. You’re a bad dog.

“Hey,” Naser whispered.

“Hey, there.”

“How was your meeting? Oh, wait. You can’t say. Sorry.”

“I can say it was good.”

“Good.”

Mason kept running his finger up and down the ball ofNaser’s foot, and while Naser was smiling, his eyes weren’t exactly rollingback in his head the way they’d done during their bedroom session. “This doesnothing for you right now, does it?”

Naser pouted and shook his head.

“Soit’s a one-way foot fetish?”Mason asked.

“Afraid so.”

“That seems unfair. For you, I mean.”

“Sometimes it’s better to give than to receive.” Masonraised an eyebrow, wondering if Naser was referring to penetrative acts. “Notallthe time,” he added with a wicked smile.

“I’m glad you stayed.”

And Naser didn’t sayOf courseorI’d never leave after sex like thatorDon’t be ridiculous,which said to Mason that he’d considered making a run for it the second Masondrove off.

Mason brought Naser’s foot to his lips and kissed the archgently.

“Mason?”

Was there actually a note of wariness in Naser’s voice orwas that just Banjo barking in his ear? Either way, Mason steeled himself,thinking maybe Naser had stayed only long enough so he could call it a night inperson.

It took all the courage he had, but he turned andlooked intoNaser’s eyes.

“I’m hungry,” Naser said.

And Mason smiled, feeling like he’d been rescued from theexecutioner’s blade.

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