Page 83 of The King of Halloween
Now he knew he was dreaming. He hadn’t slept in a bed for…
The night didn’t hit him all at once. It took its sweet time nibbling on his thighs, licking up his chest, and whispering in his ear. He was at Adam’s. They’d crashed in his bed after…
Maybe the couch was Scotch guarded.
Raj instinctively reached for his phone and found a lamp built into an open book. He had to pull on the quill to get it to turn on. Ah, now this was what he’d expected from Adam.
Four-poster bed with a canopy. Some kind of Dutch, French, Rococo dresser with fancy legs and carvings into each drawer. He had no idea what it really was beyond very expensive and old. A chifforobe sat on the next corner, looking ready to whisk them all off to Narnia. He wormed his way out of the blanket, unsurprised to find the sheets were silk, and the coverlet damask.
Lucky for him, his glasses rested on the bedside table, so he was able to properly look. Raj hit the cold floor and winced. Minnesota did not play in autumn. Trying to not yelp, he made his way for the door, then the cold nipped where it shouldn’t, and he looked down. He was completely naked.
For all he knew, Adam was hosting a book club in his living room.
Grabbing the first thing he found, Raj looked once around the room in the hopes his clothes would materialize, then he leaped into a pair of fleece pants. It was a tight fit, shrink-wrapping to his junk and barely obscuring his butt crack, but he didn’t have a lot of options. Easing out the door, he glanced down the hallway. So far, no roommates wandered toward the bathroom.
A crack broke through the air, and Raj’s stomach took control of his brain. Butter, salt, fried dough, coffee… Every scent pinged off his nervous system, driving his half-naked body into the kitchen.
Gluttony took a back seat to lust. There was Adam, much like the night before, at the stove. He had on his apron but was whisking a bowl with a whistle on his tongue. His hair was a mess, Raj’s doing, and a few red marks lingered on the side of his neck poking out from below his unbuttoned shirt.
Standing barefoot in the kitchen, Raj started to drool.
Adam’s haphazard swaying turned him around enough that he spotted Raj. “You’re awake.”
“I am.” Raj had to state the obvious because he had nothing else at his disposal. “And you’re making breakfast. Are you already dressed?”
“And showered.” Adam banged his whisk on the bowl, then dumped the contents into his frying pan. “I hope you like eggs.”
“Love ‘em.” Raj couldn’t help but engage in the time-honored tradition of peering over a chef’s shoulder to make sure he was cooking what he said. The fresh aroma of soap wafted off of Adam. Raj frowned, realizing he probably still smelled like sweat and cum. “Why didn’t you wake me?”
“I tried. But you seemed to be happily ensconced in all of my blankets.”
“Sorry. I’m not used to the cold here.”
“It’s all right. Lucky for you, you’re adorable when you’re out so hard an earthquake couldn’t move you.”
Raj laughed. Usually, he’d be jumpier than a squirrel on a highway at a new place. But the second his head hit that pillow, he was gone. “Your bed is…” He breathed deeply, falling into Adam’s gaze. “It’s wonderful. Comfy. I haven’t slept that well in months.”
“That doesn’t speak well of your hotel.”
“I don’t stay there. We need every room for guests.”
Adam doled out an omelette, then he added a sprig of parsley to the top. “Where do you live?” He handed over the plate to Raj’s confused hands, then pulled another from the microwave. “Turkey bacon.”
“Why?” Raj took two slices, trying to remember if he’d ever had turkey bacon. “Are you trying to get an invitation?” Hmm. It had a weird crunch, but the flavor wasn’t bad.
“I was merely making small talk before, but now I’m curious.” Adam poured out his omelette. “There’s silverware on my kitchenette. Also, a stack. Take as many as you like.”
A stack of…?
Raj looked for a place to sit and found a pile of silver dollar pancakes waiting to be scooped up. “I’m sorry, you had time to shower, dress, and make pancakes?”
“I may have checked your breathing…a couple times.”
That was strangely sweet in a morbid way. As if he’d expect anything less from Adam Stein.
Raj sat expecting to only eat his eggs and bacon, before the exertion of last night hit him. His fork started dumping two, then four, and finally six pancakes onto his plate. He was pouring on the maple syrup when Adam joined him across the little table.
He didn’t just sit, but draped a napkin across his lap and carefully added one pancake at a time. It was infuriating and confusingly erotic at the same time. The dedication he put into one tiny task, the focus, that damn lithe body controlled from his hair to his toes… It made Raj want to dump syrup on him and suck it off.
