Page 45 of Surface Scratch
Or maybe I just want him.The thought made him suppress a shudder as his cock twitched, already half hard as his tipsy imagination ran wild. Twice tonight someone had referred to peculiar tastes or appetites, and based on Adam’s physical state as well as Marcus’s description of ‘the beast,’ he was pretty sure he understood what they meant. He wasn’t naive. He had the internet, he knew what BDSM was. It certainly made Marcus owning handcuffs make sense. The thought had made him apprehensive at first, but now, lost in the intoxicating swirl of Marcus’s scent and actual alcohol, it was piquing his curiosity.
Not that he would ever admit such a thing. He was tipsy, not hammered.
“I could look at this face forever,” Marcus mumbled, running his hand down the scarred side of Caleb’s face. He leaned forward, pausing as Caleb tensed against him. He tapped beneath one of his black-and-amber eyes. “Should I switch them back?”
“No, it’s okay,” Caleb whispered. “You shouldn’t have to hide from me.” He craned his neck up and met Marcus’s lips, his stomach exploding with a kaleidoscope of butterflies. He jolted beneath Marcus’s touch, trying to squirm into a position where his arousal wouldn’t be obvious.
Marcus pulled away from the kiss, crushing Caleb’s lithe body to his own as though his body and mind were acting out different intentions, his lips and face flushed. “It’s going to be daylight soon,” he whispered. “Should I get you home?”
“Can I stay here?” Caleb planted a kiss on his jaw as he laced their fingers together, resting his head against Marcus’s collarbone.
Marcus pecked another kiss onto his forehead. “Of course you can stay.”
Chapter Fourteen
Caleb pulled on a pair of soft, plaid pajama pants that had clearly been purchased recently, as evidenced by the tag still hanging off the label on the inside of the clothing, before checking his teeth in the mirror to make sure bits of food weren’t trapped between them. He was tempted to pull his mop of curls forward to hide the top of his scar where the damage was the deepest, but Marcus’s last admonishment when he spoke poorly of his marred skin echoed loudly in his head. Instead, he combed a hand through his hair, pulling it back to reveal his entire face.
For once, he didn’t feel like turning away from his own reflection. His cheeks were still reddish with the aftereffects of the liquor he’d drunk, but he looked… nice. Even with the unsightly skin graft and puckered skin on his trachea. He knew defining his self-esteem and sense of worth based on how someone else saw him wasn’t exactly healthy, but it was almost as if knowing someone wanted him romantically made him finally see the good parts he’d spent years looking past.
Marcus was pulling his hair back into a tight stump of a ponytail in front of the dresser mirror when Caleb reentered the room from the bathroom, the comforter already peeled away from the left side of the bed and the throw pillows piled on the chest at the foot. A frown tried to worm its way across his lips. He had hoped Marcus would join him.
It’s still too early for that, right? Plus, you wouldn’t even know what to do.Marcus turned around and smiled at him. His dress shirt was completely unbuttoned, allowing Caleb to finally see the physique he had been pressed up against more than once.
He swallowed hard, and probably loudly enough for a vampire to hear across the room, as he took in a glimpse of the lean musculature that made up Marcus’s torso. If Caleb had thought he was stunning before, he looked divine like this. Casual, comfortable, and with a body that belonged in a museum. He licked his suddenly parched lips, taking in the entirety of Marcus before he went to the bed and allowed the cool sheets to shock his mind out of the gutter.
“Comfortable?” Marcus asked, allowing the dress shirt to fall from his shoulders.
Caleb wanted to bury his face in the Memory Foam pillow to hide whatever shade of scarlet his face was turning. “You could give me a newspaper as a blanket and it would probably still be more comfortable than my couch,” he said.
“Whenever you get tired of killing your back on that couch, let me know. I’ll get you something comfortable,” Marcus said. He leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. He wore that same warm smile that made the wrinkles in the outer corners of his eyes appear. Even with the unnatural hue of his eyes, it made Caleb want to melt into a useless puddle of goo.
“No way, you essentially bought my apartment for a year already,” Caleb said into the pillow. “I don’t think I ever said thank you.”
“You don’t have to.” Marcus laughed. “Plus, you smile more now that you don’t have that to worry about. I like seeing you smile.”
Caleb blushed into his pillow, thankful it was there to hide his face.
“Please let me buy you one?”
“Maybe,” he said with a smile, peeking out from the pillow for a moment before a yawn took control of his face.
“Get some rest, we have that holiday party happening tomorrow, and things always go off the rails pretty quickly when that happens.” Marcus switched the overhead light off.
It’s now or never. Just ask him. The worst he can do is say no.
He sat up in the bed, a wave of urgency crashing through his nervous system. “You don’t have to sleep out on the couch,” he said quickly, fidgeting with the seam of the comforter. He stared down at his lap, his lips disappearing between his teeth as he waited for Marcus to say something in response.
Was that too much? Fuck. It was definitely too forward. Dammit, this was the third-date thing, right?He jumped as he heard the jingle of a belt buckle behind him. Marcus was already on the other side of the bed, stepping out of his work pants. Caleb glanced at the open doorway where he had just been, then back to Marcus as he connected the dots in his mind, his eyes wide.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you.” Marcus chuckled as he switched the light off. The mattress springs groaned as he slid beneath the sheets in just his black boxer briefs.
Caleb lay perfectly still, trying desperately to get his heart rate to go down as Marcus nudged closer. He’d spent way too many hours ruminating on this exact situation, but now that it was happening, he didn’t know what to do. What was he supposed to do? None of what he’d read online had a first-time spooning guide. He nearly yelped when Marcus’s hand found his, weaving their fingers together and pulling him close until Caleb’s back was pressed against his chest, not an atom of air between them.
“Let me know if this is too much,” Marcus whispered, his lips brushing Caleb’s ear.
Despite Marcus’s cool body pressed to his, Caleb felt like he was on fire. His groin pulsed into his thighs, the pressure intolerable as he pressed his legs together in a futile effort to divert blood away from his cock.
“It’s not,” Caleb said. He closed his eyes, pulling Marcus’s hand closer to his chest. Marcus’s scent washed over him, filling even his pores. Tobacco and cologne and cookies… plus wine and blood.
