Not Safe for Work(51)

Rick whistled. “Wow. Poor kid.”

“Yeah, I know. It killed me knowing she’d been bottling that up for so long. So the very next night, we sat down with all three kids and explained to them that I’m bisexual, and what that means. I don’t even know when Brooke came out to them. She might’ve told them before that incident. I really don’t know, but they’ve both accepted that their sister is a lesbian and that I sometimes date men, sometimes date women.”

“Good. Good for them.” He paused. “Do you think you’ll ever get married again?”

“I doubt it. Can’t say it’s worked out all that well for me. I mean, I wouldn’t mind—” I caught myself.

He slid his hand over my thigh. “What?”

I took a breath. “Someday, I wouldn’t mind putting a collar on someone.” I held his gaze. “A long-term Dom/sub relationship. That kind of commitment. But getting married? Probably not.” I paused. “What about you?”

“Don’t know. I’ve never been married, and my last relationship blew up in my face. I’m not opposed to it, I guess. It isn’t like I have as many people to come out to anymore.”

“You’re out?”

“Well, I’m not as firmly closeted as I used to be. Dion has known for years. Everyone else at the company knows. And Mitchell & Forsythe…” He chuckled. “I’m pretty sure Forsythe doesn’t like it, but they all know.”

“How’d they find out?”

“They heard Dion and me talking after my ex left, and I guess they put two and two together.”

“Ah, gotcha. What about your family? Do they know?”

“I’m out to my immediate family. My mom says she’s known since I was four. My brother was kind of surprised but didn’t really care. My dad… He wasn’t thrilled. And my stepmother just about hit the roof.” He rolled his eyes. “She’s never really liked me anyway, so go figure.”

“She didn’t like you? Why not?”

Rick scowled. “She was just obsessed with the idea that I was going to do something to her daughters. My stepsisters were teenagers when I was in my twenties, so apparently that meant I was—” He grimaced. “You get the idea.”

I blinked. “You’re joking.”

“Nope. The f*cked-up thing is that it got even worse when I came out, because for whatever reason, being gay meant I was more likely to mess with her daughters.” He threw up his hands. “I…I still can’t even fit that into my skull.”

“Jesus,” I muttered into my wineglass.

“Yeah. That whole fiasco was a tipping point for my ex, actually. My father specifically requested that I not bring Keith to my stepsister’s wedding, so I went alone. Keith thought it was a slap in the face to him, I thought it would’ve been a slap in the face to my stepsister if I had brought him, and…” He waved his hand.

“Can’t win, can you?”

“Nope.”

“Families. Gotta love ’em.”

“Yeah, really.”

Our eyes met. We both set our wineglasses on the table, and when we settled back against the couch, we were sitting closer than before. I put my arm around his shoulders. His hand slid over my thigh.

“Enough of that bullshit,” he said. “The past is in the past. And I”—he watched his fingertips tracing my inseam—“I want us to enjoy tonight.”

“Me too.” I put my hand over his. “I guess it’s just refreshing to talk about this shit with someone who gets it.”

“That’s true. To be honest, I still feel like I barely know you, but it’s really good to find someone on the same wavelength.”

“It really is. I’m sorry for that interruption in getting to know each other. It went on way too long.”

“No time like the present to pick up where we left off.”

“God, yes.” I brought his hand up and pressed my lips to the middle of his palm. Our eyes met again, and whatever I was about to say—I’d been about to say something, hadn’t I?—evaporated. I let the thought go, because I couldn’t resist moving in for a kiss. A kiss that led to another. And another. And a longer one.

“I’m seeing a trend here,” he said between kisses. “Can’t…can’t be on the same surface as you without—”

“That’s not a complaint, is it?”

A shiver pushed him closer to me. “Not a complaint at all.”

I wasn’t complaining either.

I could’ve sworn this was supposed to be a casual—if, work permitting, somewhat regular—hookup, but that wasn’t how it felt right then. Here on his sofa, wrapped up in his arms and a long, lazy kiss, it didn’t feel casual at all. Less “I’ve been waiting all week for this” and more “I’ve been waiting my whole life for this”.

No, it was way too soon for any of that.

“God, if I wasn’t so tired,” I murmured. “I would top the f*ck out of you tonight.”

Rick shivered again. “We’ll get there.”

“I know, but I really will make it up to you.”

“Nothing to make up to me. I’m perfectly happy just doing this tonight.”