Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

Dear God, why the hell was he so nervous?

Nico couldn’t be considered a stranger, not now after they’d spent the day together. He’d met his family and suspected from their comments and joking innuendos that they assumed the two of them were already sleeping together. His body throbbed, empty and yearning.

Did he want that?

He’d only ever had one lover—on their second date, Lenny had brought him to his parents’ beach house on Star Island, and on silken sheets, fueled by endless glasses of champagne and promises of forever, Ford gave him his virginity. Lenny had assured him that the more sex they had, the less it would hurt, and while he learned to enjoy the physical part, he much preferred the cuddling and kissing afterward. At the five-year mark, Lenny tried to convince him to spice up their sex life, suggesting toys, threesomes—which Ford had no interest in—or sex in public places. He once followed Ford into the fitting rooms when they were shopping, in an attempt to have sex—“Don’t you think it’s hot, knowing people are right outside?”—but Ford had refused. Lenny sulked and withdrew. Later he’d apologized, saying he wasn’t going to pressure Ford anymore. Ford supposed that was the beginning of Lenny’s infidelities.

He glanced at Nico’s profile, instinctively knowing this was a man who didn’t need games. His lush mouth promised kisses that made Ford blush and his heart pound.

The car stopped.

“We’re here,” Nico said. “Ready?”

Ford nodded. He was. So ready.

Hand in hand, they walked up to his suite, and after he unlocked the door, Nico took the card key from Ford’s shaky fingers and set it on the table. A light from the bedroom shone a golden glow into the living area.

“We’ll take it as slow as you want. Okay?” Nico’s long fingers mapped the lines of his face. “But I’ve been dying to kiss you since the first time I saw you.”

Unconsciously, he licked his lips, and Nico’s lustful gaze burned hotter. “Me too.”

A smile lit Nico’s face, and twin dimples popped. “Let’s make it happen, ’kay?” Nico’s hand slid to his nape.

He expected a kiss like Lenny’s—harsh and demanding, with tongue and teeth. Instead, Nico rested his lips on Ford’s, briefly at first, light as a butterfly, brushing gently, over and over, leaving Ford shaking.

“You taste perfect,” Nico breathed, then nipped his bottom lip, sucking it. He tangled his fingers in his hair, anchoring him. “So damn sweet,” he whispered before settling his mouth over Ford’s.

Ford moaned at the touch of Nico’s tongue seeking entrance, and he sucked it greedily, feasting on it like a starving man. Hot, slick, and soft, it rubbed and danced with his as his heart pounded, roaring in his ears.

“Oh God, oh God.” He wanted to tear his clothes off and roll naked on the bed with Nico, feeling all that flesh pressed to his. No one had ever made him feel so uninhibited and free.

“You like this?” Nico dipped his head and took Ford’s face between the palms of his hands, capturing his mouth. Their kisses intensified, growing more frantic and heated, messy, wet, and wild.

“I do, please, please.” He was begging and pleading—for what, he wasn’t certain, but knew only Nico could give it to him. Blood burning, he waited on the precipice of something endless, ready to burst into a thousand pieces.

“Tell me what you want,” Nico murmured, nuzzling into his neck, nipping him, then kissing the sting away.

“I-I don’t know.” He hung his head. “I’m sorry.”

Nico tipped up his chin and brushed their lips together. “Don’t be. I have no problem taking it slow. But you drive me crazy, and I couldn’t help myself.” He rested their foreheads together, noses touching, their breaths mingling.

“You’ve thrown my life into chaos,” Ford admitted. “I don’t…I’ve never done this with anyone else, but I wanted to be alone with you so badly.”

“I like being alone with you too.” Nico rubbed their cheeks together, the raspy late-night stubble delicious against his fevered skin. Ford melted into him, and Nico took his lips, leaving behind a trail of fire wherever they touched.

“I’m not ready to sleep with you.” He waited for Nico to walk away. Hoping he wouldn’t.

“I know. You’re not that kind of man. I respect that.”

“I enjoyed myself tonight.” Ford allowed himself the luxury of touching Nico, running his hands over his chest and shoulders, feeling the dips and curves of pure hard muscle.

“Told you the food would be amazing.” Nico kissed the tip of his nose.

“It was, but that’s not why.”

“Yeah?” Nico quirked a brow. “What, then?” And Ford knew he wasn’t fishing for a compliment.

“I loved the hominess. It felt like I was in someone’s kitchen. Your cousin and his girlfriend were so welcoming and friendly. And they care about you.” He wasn’t looking forward to his lonely existence once he left New York.

“We’re in each other’s business all the time, but yeah, they’ve got my back and I’ve got theirs. Thick and thin, we’re there for each other.”

It was a concept Ford was a stranger to, yet he yearned for all the same. “You’re lucky.”

Nico kissed him, ran his nose down his cheek. “You got no family? What happened to your mother?”

Not the conversation he wanted to have with a gorgeous, sexy man in his hotel room.

“I’d rather not talk about it.”

Nico fixed him with a stare and nodded. “Okay. Whatever you want.”

Ford glanced at the clock and saw it was nearly eleven. Early for Nico, he suspected, but he had a breakfast at eight, followed by a full day of lectures to attend. “Another kiss?” Regret laced his words. “And I’m afraid we’ll have to call it a night. I have an early start tomorrow, and it goes all day.”

“What about after?” Nico began placing those gentle yet searing kisses on his lips, leaving him craving more, and Ford clung to those broad, strong shoulders. “Can I see you?”

“You want to see me again?”

Nico stopped, his lips hovering. “Yeah. Unless you don’t?” He took a step away but Ford clutched his shirt.

“No,” he blurted out, and at Nico’s wicked grin, heat rushed through him. “I-I’d love to see you again.” He hesitated but decided to hell with it. They always said to speak from your heart. “I’m here for three nights, counting this one. I’d like to spend them all with you.”

Nico crushed their lips together, tongue thrusting to meet his. Head fuzzy with desire, Ford gave in to Nico’s power and sucked until Nico growled and broke free.

“If I don’t stop, you’re gonna be naked.” Blue eyes glittered with a dangerous light, that full, swollen mouth gleamed wet, and a flush rested high on his cheekbones. Ford bit back a whimper of despair.

“Maybe I was wrong.”

Nico chuckled and wiped his hand over his mouth. “Nah. You weren’t.” He leaned in for a swift kiss. “’Cause when—not if, but when—it happens, it’s gonna take the whole night for me to do what I want to you.”

That weird, fluttery feeling tumbled through him at the thought of Nico and him naked. Together. Teetering on the edge, Ford found his voice and sanity in time to ask, “How will I reach you? I don’t have your number.”

Nico took out his phone. “Gimme yours, and I’ll text you.”

Ford recited it, and a moment later felt a buzz in his jeans pocket. “I got it.”

“So text me when you’re ready tomorrow. Let me know what you wanna do.”

“Whatever you want. I’m in your hands.”

A slow smile crept across Nico’s face. “Yeah? I like the sound of that. I’ll figure somethin’ fun.”

And then he was gone, leaving Ford not only alone but lonely. With his exit, Nico had taken all the energy from the room. Lenny used to be the one to carry the conversation at a party, while Ford stood by his side, never knowing if he’d say the right thing. Lenny would tease him, calling him arm candy, which would annoy Ford, but as usual, he remained mute, afraid to make waves.

He’d kept silent about many things, but that had led to a life of discontent. The best thing to come out of their split, aside from leaving a cheating lover behind, was that Ford had found his voice for what he did and did not want.

And he wanted Nico.

He changed for bed, set his alarm, and closed his eyes. For the first time in a year, he was excited to see what the next day brought.

**

“Is this seat taken?” an older man asked, silver hair shining under the overhead lights.

Ford, finishing his first cup of coffee, pulled out the chair next to him. “It isn’t.”

“Good, good. I got stuck in uptown traffic and was afraid I’d miss the coffee.” A server appeared, poured him a cup, and presented the dish of eggs, bacon, and potatoes, at which the man made a face. “A travesty,” he grumbled. “You’d think it being a dermatology convention, they’d choose food high in antioxidants.”

Ford chuckled at his outrage. “I agree. I take my greens powder with me everywhere. But as long as I have my coffee, I’ll be fine.”

The man’s eyes twinkled behind black-framed glasses. “You youngsters are smart.” He took a sip of coffee. “Bruce Sandler.”

“Ford St. Claire.”

“Where’s your practice, Ford?” Sandler made small talk as he picked through the pastry basket, deciding on a lemon scone.

“Florida. Fort Lauderdale.”

“Get a lot of basal cell and melanoma down there?”

He grimaced. “Unfortunately, yes.”

“We’re seeing it on the rise here as well. I’m in SoHo. All the people who thought they were invincible in their twenties, slathering themselves with baby oil or nothing at all, are now in their fifties and sixties, suffering from that failure to use sunscreen and take care of their skin.”

“I agree.”

Sandler peered at him. “Fort Lauderdale, hmm?” Seeing the wheels turning in Sandler’s mind, Ford tensed, anticipating what was coming next. “That doctor…”

“Is my partner, yes.” He didn’t feel the need to elaborate.

“Ah.” Sandler’s expression was thoughtful. “Has it affected your practice at all?”

“Surprisingly, no.”

Sandler broke off a corner of his scone. “I guess a juicy sex scandal brings in the curious. From what I remember, his troubles had nothing to do with the practice.”

“No one has ever complained about Lenny’s work. And we’re busier than ever. In fact, we’re in the process of hiring another doctor to do the cosmetic work. Anyway, I’m looking forward to the lectures, especially the micro needling and new innovations in hair growth. There’s so much coming on the horizon.”

“A shame he couldn’t keep it in his pants,” Sandler mused, returning to the subject of the scandal, and Ford, still shocked at the brash outspokenness of New Yorkers, choked on his English muffin. Sandler chuckled. “Oh, come on. It was all over the news, even up here. And you certainly have nothing to be ashamed of—I recall it all now. At least the way it played out on television, you were merely the long-suffering partner. Are you staying in the practice or thinking of relocating up here?”

“Moving here? N-no, I hadn’t thought of it.” Although now that Sandler mentioned it, living in New York and seeing Nico all the time was an enticing fantasy he could dream about. But right now, that was what it was. Fantasy. His life was in Florida, and Nico’s was here, and…why the hell was he thinking about this again? “I had to fly up last month for some expert testimony, but this is my first extended trip to New York.”

“I hope you enjoy it. I’ll be winding down my practice in the next five years, when my lease is up. My wife and I are going to split our time between here and California, where our grandchildren are.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Not one you have to think about. You’re a youngster.”

A woman in a sleeveless pink sheath stepped to the microphone at the front of the ballroom. “Welcome, Doctors.”

“I guess we’re off to the races,” Sandler remarked.

It was a full, exhausting day of lectures, demonstrations, and meeting reps, who gave him bags filled with samples of every kind of cream, serum, pill, and powder imaginable. By five thirty, he collapsed in his room and lay on the bed. He switched on his phone, which he’d turned off during the day. Several notifications popped up from Nico.

Hey. Wondering if you’d have time to meet for lunch. Got a break.

Half an hour later: Guess not. See you tonight.

At four thirty: So what’s the plan for tonight?

Twenty minutes later: You there? Lemme know what’s up.

Crap. He hoped it wasn’t too late and called Nico instead of texting.

“Hello?”

“Nico? It’s Ford. Sorry, I was tied up in the conference. So many lectures and demonstrations.” He hesitated. “Did you go home, or are you still here?”

“I’m hangin’ out in the lobby downstairs.”

A ridiculously happy grin spread over his face. “Great. I just have to shower and change. Did you think of where you want to go for dinner?”

“Yeah. And it’s casual, so don’t worry about your clothes.” His chuckle was warm and low, sending tingles through Ford. “Matter of fact, the less the better.”

“Huh?” Nervous excitement built up through him. “Where are you taking me?”

“See you soon.”

The call ended, and Ford scrambled to get ready. He figured Nico was teasing him, and after showering and checking the weather to see that it was brutally hot, picked a short-sleeved white linen shirt and tan shorts. He slipped his feet into a pair of comfortable sandals, grabbed his wallet and phone, and left the room.

Plenty of people milled around the lobby, but Ford immediately saw Nico. The tumbling black waves and tanned skin were a perfect foil for the bright-blue shirt he wore. Thin cotton pants caressed his legs, and Ford sighed. Nico was so damn beautiful.

And Ford was in over his head.

Nico lifted his head from scrolling on his phone and met his eyes. A blinding white smile flashed across his face, and he hopped out of his chair.

“Hey, Doc,” he greeted him. “You’re looking hot as fuck,” he murmured only for his ears.

His face burning, Ford blinked rapidly. “You just stole my line.”

Nico knocked his shoulder. “Ready to go?”

“Are you going to tell me where?”

“Nope.” Nico took his hand and squeezed it. “You gotta trust me again.”

“I do.”

**

“The beach?” Ford stared at the swarms of people strolling on the famous Coney Island boardwalk.

They stood on the sidewalk, and Nico pointed. “And that’s where we’re gonna eat.”

“Nathan’s?”

“Don’t be a food snob. Fried clams, french fries, and hot dogs. Food of the gods. C’mon.”

The line snaked outside of the restaurant, but they finally ordered, and while he waited for the food, Nico went to find a place to sit.

“It’s a zoo out there,” Ford protested. “You’ll never find a place.”

“Oh, ye of little faith.” Nico kissed him and patted his cheek. “That’s why I’m doin’ it, not you. It’s like ridin’ the subway. You gotta know where to stand and pick up on the cues.”

And sure enough, he walked outside, laden with the tray, and found Nico in the corner at a table for two.

“You were right.”

Nico smirked and popped a fried clam into his mouth. “I usually am. Let’s eat.”

Everything smelled delicious, and Ford dug in, knowing when he returned home, he’d be eating strictly protein and vegetables. But for now, with the sea breeze in his hair and Nico across the table, he happily threw his strict diet out the window. A few pounds gained was worth it to be alive.

They demolished their food, and he groaned, flopping back in his chair. “Oh my God, that was so decadent. I still don’t understand how you can eat like this”—he waved his hand over the remains of their meal, then toward Nico—“and look like that.”

Nico’s grin was wicked. “It’s a talent. I work out. In many different ways.”

Ford’s heart sank, figuring Nico’s euphemism for working out was sex, and lots of it. “However you do it, I don’t have the metabolism at forty-two that I used to at twenty-eight.”

“I dunno, Doc. You look pretty damn good to me. Now come on. Let’s take a walk.”

They dumped their tray and headed to the boardwalk. They walked with the crowd, stopping at a frozen-custard stand, where a cute blond guy with the nametag Alexi swirled him a cone.

“Aren’t you going to get one?” Ford asked Nico.

“Nah, I’ll just take a lick of yours.” Nico leaned over.

“No way.” Ford laughed, holding it aloft. “Get your own.”

Alexi took his money. “He’s like my husband. Always trying to steal my custard.” He had a Russian accent and a charming smile. “Right, Cam?”

“That’s ’cause yours tastes sweeter, baby.” A good-looking man with a deep velvety voice slipped his arms around Alexi’s waist.

“Thanks.” He pocketed the change.

“Let’s go on the beach,” Nico suggested and kicked off his sneakers. “Feel the sand on our toes.” Ford slipped off his sandals, and they walked on the sand to the water’s edge. He finished his cone and licked his sticky fingers.

“I hardly ever go to the beach.”

Nico stared at him. “Get the fuck out. You live in Florida.”

How to explain without sounding stupid? “Lenny didn’t like to go. He hated the sand.”

“What about what you like? So far all I hear is what you did for him. What’d he ever do for you?”

Feeling uncomfortable, Ford dug his toes in the sand and let the water rush up to his ankles. “I’m here now, aren’t I? At the beach?”

The harsh lines of Nico’s face softened. “Yeah. Sorry, I didn’t mean to get up in your face, but shit like that pisses me off.”

“I just don’t want to waste time with you, talking about him.” The waves rolled in again, rinsing their feet. He wondered what Nico would look like dripping wet in the shower.

God, I’m in so much trouble, but I can’t help it.

“Maybe we should go back to the hotel?”

Apparently, that was the right thing to say, because Nico smiled and kissed him. Soft and sweet, his lips moved over Ford’s.

“I like the way you think.”