His breath caught and his dick, which had been half interested, went all in. If he hadn’t been sure before, he was now, but he wasn’t sure what to do. “Are you hitting on me?”
“Do you want me to?”
Yes, of course he did. “Why?”
“Why is it so hard to believe?” His fingertips brushed the back of Garrett’s hand and didn’t leave.
Garrett froze. His palm was cold from the ice in the drink, but his blood was hot, and he wanted to find out what it would be like to embrace the attraction instead of fearing it and avoiding it. To lean over the bar and kiss him and feel the metal against his tongue, to feel Chester’s stubble against his cheek.
“You’re…” Garrett didn’t know what to say. “I have never lived freely like you. My father would not have approved, and I didn’t want to cause friction with my team.” He’d had one boyfriend in his last year of high school. They had both been worried about what it meant, and what would happen. Since then, everything has been much more clinical. Organized.
“I can see the fear in your eyes.” Chester finished his drink and put the glass in the dishwasher.
“That’s because I am afraid. I’m not used to this, but I don’t think I can walk away.” He wished he could. He wished he’d denied everything. This time, he couldn’t even blame alcohol. Which meant what he felt was real, not liquor-driven lust. “I don’t want to walk away.”
“I don’t want you to walk away. Even though that would be the smart thing to do.”
“Agreed.” Great, they both wanted this, and they both didn’t want this. Whatever this was. It was already far more exciting than anything he’d had over the last six years.
Chester put his elbows on the bar and leaned forward. “You’re going to finish your drink and give me the glass. Then you’re going to walk over to that door and you’re either going to lock it or go through it.”
Garrett glanced at the door they’d come through. “And then what?”
“You have an accounting degree; you’re not stupid.” Chester grabbed Garrett’s tie and pulled him forward until their noses brushed, and there was only an inch between their lips.
“Inexperienced,” Garrett countered.
“You have had sex with another man, right?”
“Yes! I’m meant with the flirting and seduction.”
Chester's lips brushed his in a whisper of a kiss. “Oh honey, I’m not even trying. If I was, you’d been naked and begging.”
Garrett closed his eyes. His cheeks burned. Did that mean Chester thought he didn’t need to try? “I don’t know what you like.”
Chester’s tongue danced over the seam of Garrett’s lips, and they parted as if seeking more.
“So ask. I’ve heard you talk all night.” Chester drew back to look him in the eye. “You’re very good at asking about other people while not talking about yourself.”
It was only a few words, but he couldn’t force them out. It had been different with his boyfriend. They’d both been experimenting and figuring stuff out. Chester was older by a decade, and he wasn’t hiding.
He was going to fumble this.
Chester leaned in. His kiss landed at the corner of Garrett’s lips. “Why don’t you start by deciding which side of the door you want to be on?” He released Garrett’s tie and stood up. “I do need your glass, though, because I don’t want to leave a mess for others to clean.”
Garrett finished his drink without tasting it and slid off the stool. They’d barely kissed, but his lips burned. He wanted to lick them to see if they tasted like Chester.
He wanted to taste Chester.
CHAPTER
SEVEN
Chester watched as Garrett walked towards the door. Despite the hunger in Garrett’s eyes, he wasn’t sure if Garrett was going to lock it or go through it. One was the smart choice. The one that left them both unsatisfied but with no residual drama.
He knew better than to do things like this.
Closeted men always had drama.