Page 26 of Starfish and Coffee
“Really?” Matt pressed, because Alex didn’t sound too sure about it.
“I guess,” Alex said with a bitter laugh. “Why else would I be here?”
So it was the sex. The knowledge was both unsettling and tantalizing. Matt’s nerves were raw, but his dick was hard as he opened the fridge. It wasn’t difficult to find space for the twelve-pack. Matt was a single guy who couldn’t cook. He’d just moved in, and he’d had a lot of other things on his mind besides eating this past week. It wasn’t until he saw how empty the large refrigerator was that he realized he hadn’t really planned for this party for two.
“I don’t have that much to eat.” He winced and turned to Alex, who was sitting at one of the stools behind the bar with his long legs stretched out in front of him. “Are you hungry?”
“Unbelievable, Tarrington. It’s amazing you ever get a chick to fuck you.” Alex laughed and shook his head, then glanced around the kitchen. “I’ve never seen this place on the inside. It’s even bigger than it looks.”
“You want a tour?” Matt asked hoping to distract from his failure as a host.
“Yeah.” Alex surprised him by agreeing. “I’m a big fan of lavish indulgence.”
It should be an insult, but it didn’t really sound like one, and Matt arched an eyebrow to clarify. “Are you really?”
Alex shrugged as he stood up. “I enjoy the fabulous as much as the next gay guy.”
Matt was still having a hard time telling if he was joking or not. He’d noticed Alex did that a lot, wash hot and cold. Like showing up tonight when he’d sworn not to. It was confusing and irritating and certainly didn’t help Matt’s anxiety.
Matt gave Alex a tour of the house as the tension loomed between them like an ominous prediction of an impending collision. Everything about the place was open and light. It was full of windows and white tile and helped lighten the mood a little. Matt liked it for just that reason, because it was everything his mother hated. There was nothing about this beach property that was stifling or oppressive. It was a haven from his real life, and the more time Matt spent in it, the more he wanted to buy it instead of just rent it for the year.
The fun part was, as they went from room to room, Alex started loosening up. He was enjoying every aspect of the house, and Matt realized he hadn’t been lying. There was a part of Alex that genuinely appreciated architecture and interior design. It was a stark contrast to the Joe Six-Pack persona Alex put out to the world, and Matt found he liked this Alex a lot more.
“So if we hook up”—Alex walked up to the king-size bed in the master bedroom—“do I get mistress benefits?”
“What are mistress benefits?”
“A car, a bank account, shopping sprees, and trips to the French Rivera.” Alex fell back against the neatly made bed, leaning on his elbows as he put himself on display. “It’s a small price to pay for all the forbidden things I can give you that a wife can’t.”
Matt stood there staring at Alex, spread out on the bed, that black shirt showing off his beautiful body, those tight jeans clinging to all the right places. More frustrated as the seconds ticked by, Matt was almost inclined to agree.
Instead he smiled back. “You think I can’t find some other guy free of charge to give me what you’re offering?”
“That’s the truth.” Alex got up and looked Matt over for one hot moment. “Baby, they’d be payingyou.”
The compliment caught him off guard, as did the endearment. Matt’s cheeks heated to the point he turned away to save his dignity. He wasn’t sure why Alex could do that to him when he’d never been shy or reserved when it came to sex.
This whole situation was throwing him off, and half of him couldn’t understand why he’d invited Alex over to begin with when he’d been resolved to his straight, conservative upper-crust lifestyle that would probably end with him marrying a woman like his mother and hating life like any good Tarrington man should. The other half of him—the bottom half—had been hard since Alex arrived.
“You blush too easily, Matty.” Alex went back to exploring the house. “You gotta stop that.”
Matt winced, hating that he was being so obvious with his nervousness, still he asked, “Why?”
“’Cause it gets my dick hard,” Alex said from the master bathroom and then added, “Very nice. Italian marble. Dual showerheads. This shower has hot sex written all over it.”
Matt needed more to drink—lots more.
* * * *
Alex wasn’t nearly as peeved about cooking as he probably should be. The kitchen was state of the art and playing in it was exciting. Matt didn’t have many groceries, and the things he did have were all sort of ridiculous, so trying to make a real meal was a fun challenge.
Besides, it distracted him from the rash decision to come here when he’d spent the entire day trying to talk himself out of it. In the end, his dick won the debate because Matt was too hot for his own good, and that scene on the beach had been one of the sexiest things Alex had ever experienced.
It was just sex. The attraction was mutual, so what could it hurt? It’s not like either of them wanted to pick out matching his-and-his towels.
On his search for ingredients, he found leftover grilled chicken breast from some fancy restaurant on Bay Boulevard. Alex cubed it and set it aside as he cooked the penne pasta he found in the pantry. Cream for Matt’s coffee. Butter for toast. There were little plastic containers of grated parmesan from the same restaurant; that’d be helpful.
Alex was back in the barren pantry, grabbing anything he could to make something edible.
