14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Christian

“Holy shit,” Emil says, his eyes wide. He bumps up his glasses. “Um.”

It’s Friday night. Club night. Emil and I agreed to share a ride to Sublime, which is why I’m at his door. But based on my neighbor’s shell-shocked expression, it seems as if I’ve still managed to surprise him.

“You like the outfit?” I tease, striking a pose.

He blinks at me.

I’m wearing the red skirt, like I promised. The hem ends mid-thigh—not that far below my ass, to be honest. My black boots add a couple inches to my height, the stilettos adorned with pointy silver studs. And my shirt is a fine white mesh that’s soft to the touch and see-through enough for my belly chain to be visible. I added a touch of red on my eyelids to wrap it all together.

Emil blinks again.

“Good, Specs? Or should I go change?”

“No,” he says quickly, coughing once. “Um, no. It’s good. Although now I feel a little underdressed.”

“You look great,” I tell him honestly. He’s dressed casually in jeans and a simple long-sleeved shirt, but the clothes fit him well, and the light oatmeal-colored top suits his complexion.

Emil rolls his eyes a little. “Yeah, okay. Come on in. Are you thirsty?”

I tsk as I follow him through the door. “Do you always do that?”

“Do what?” he asks.

“Brush off compliments instead of accepting them?”

Emil stops still, looking at me in something akin to shock before shaking his head and continuing on into the kitchen. “Um, yeah,” he answers, opening the fridge door. “I do, actually.”

I cock my head as Emil hands me a bottled water. “Why?”

He huffs a laugh, closing the fridge and leaning against the counter. He doesn’t look at me when he says, “I guess because I’m not used to hearing them. And it’s easier to avoid getting attached to something nice than coming to expect it only to be disappointed by its absence.”

It takes me a second to say anything, my chest aching at that response. “Why would it go away?”

He shrugs. “People aren’t always permanent, Christian.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

He shrugs again, looking off toward Arthur’s terrarium. “You never know. I had to leave my last apartment because they found asbestos in the basement. Things happen.”

I take a step closer, my breath shuddering. “And you think, if one or both of us ends up moving, we’ll stop being friends?”

His eyes ping to mine for only a second. “I don’t know what to think.”

His answer stings, but how can I blame Emil for being uncertain about… us when I haven’t given him any indication I’m planning on sticking around for good? Not just here, in this neighborhood, but with him . I want to be around him.

I haven’t said that, though, have I? I’ve barely been able to admit it to myself.

I’ve seen what romantic attachments do to people. Seen what happens when you lose the person you love.

I guess, in a way, I can understand perfectly why Emil is so scared of losing something he’s never really had.

“Well,” I say softly, clearing my throat. “I think you look nice, Specs. I always do, even when your hair is rumpled and you drool on your pillow.”

His mouth falls open. “I don’t drool .”

I hold my thumb and forefinger a half inch apart, as if to say a little bit .

Emil, indignant, shoves my shoulder. I laugh as I catch my balance, Emil’s hand helping to steady me, even though he was the one to unbalance me in the first place. His eyes drop, gaze trailing over my legs and up my body as if he can’t quite help himself. With a shake of his head, he lets me go.

“Well…maybe you should stop stalking me,” he mutters, walking past me to grab his keys.

I hum, unperturbed. “You could always close your curtains. But you like it, don’t you, my little exhibitionist? You like me watching you, whether you’re sleeping, studying, or fisting your cock.”

Emil freezes, his shoulders going ramrod straight. He lets out a breath before turning. “Christian.”

“Mm?” I ask, pulse kicking.

“You can’t say stuff like that when we’re out.”

“No?”

He shakes his head, the motion slow, his brown eyes looking almost hazy as he blinks once. “No. Because if you tempt me, I’m going to try to get you to fuck me where everyone can see. And that can’t happen. Okay? No matter how much I beg for it.”

My inhale is sharp, my cock thickening as the mental image of Emil begging enters my mind. Emil on his knees. Emil’s lips wrapped around my cock. Emil pleading with me to fuck him already, to get my dick inside his ass before he loses it and asks someone else to do it.

“Christian,” he says, snapping me out of my reverie. He takes a single step closer, expression serious. “I’m not kidding. You have to promise me. Because I’d do it, but I can’t . I can’t, okay? It could seriously fuck up my future, and the risk isn’t worth it. So you need to promise me, no matter when, no matter what I say, you won’t let me do that in public. Ever .”

I swallow roughly. “I understand, Specs. And I promise.”

He breathes out, nodding as he slips his wallet into his pocket. His jeans, I notice, are pulled much more snugly against his crotch than they were a moment ago.

“Ready?” he asks.

Christ . I’m not sure I am, not after that. But I nod, setting down my untouched water, and the two of us head out the door.

Sublime, as it turns out, is like every other club in Las Vegas. Loud. Lit up. And brimming with energy.

We head right to the VIP balcony above the dance floor. Several of our coworkers are already here, and Emil and I find a couch to share as a couple servers move about in skimpy shorts. With a pinch in my gut, my thoughts flit to Noel. I haven’t heard from him in over a week.

A tap on my arm shifts my focus. “Want a drink?” Emil asks.

I lean closer so he doesn’t have to shout. “Trying to loosen me up, Specs?”

Emil does that thing where he looks at me for an extended beat, as if he can’t fathom the idea that I’m flirting with him. He can be so blunt and demanding at times, and yet subtlety seems to fly right over his head.

“I’d love a drink,” I tell him before he can get stuck too far inside his thoughts. “Jack and Coke?”

“Interesting choice,” he says, catching one of the server’s eyes and holding up his hand.

“Why’s that?”

“Bold but sweet,” he answers. “Kind of like you.”

I open my mouth but lose my tongue.

“Hey, Miles,” Emil says to the server who stops in front of us. His crotch ends up inches from my face.

“Hey, Felix,” the guys practically purrs. “And Vixen. Damn . Must be my lucky night. Nice to meet you, gorgeous.”

I shake Miles’s proffered hand, ignoring the up-and-down he gives me. “Pleasure.”

“Could we get two Jack and Cokes please?” Emil asks.

“You got it, cutie. Be right back with those.” Miles blows a kiss before walking away, hips swaying.

Emil, I notice, doesn’t watch him go.

“Are you going to dance with me tonight?” I ask.

He swallows, his light brown eyes looking darker than usual in the dim club. “I don’t dance.”

“No?” I cross my legs, and Emil’s eyes drop, following the motion. “Could I convince you?”

“You could likely convince me to do just about anything,” he mumbles.

I hum, liking that answer a lot, even though I probably shouldn’t. “I’ll go easy on you,” I tease.

“You’re capable of that?”

I bark a laugh, and Emil’s lips twitch into a grin.

It doesn’t take Miles long to return with our drinks. He sets them on the table in front of us, eyes lingering appreciatively before he heads off. As Miles collects empties from Alex and his boyfriends, Emil picks up his glass.

“To getting me to dance,” he says.

I grab my drink, clinking my glass against his. “To being brave and trying new things.”

Emil nods, but I don’t explain the words were meant more for me than him.

We take our time sipping our drinks, but once they’re gone, I raise an eyebrow. Emil stands with an exaggerated sigh. I grin, and the two of us head down to the dance floor. Emil gets a lot of attention as we move through the crowd, likely being recognized by those who follow Elite 8 Studios. People seem respectful, though, and I wonder if that’s because of the heavy presence of bouncers nearby.

We stop in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by people but in a bubble all our own. Emil looks uncomfortable and unsure, so I step closer, looping my arms over his shoulders and swaying us side to side.

“Um,” he says.

“Dance with me, Specs.”

His hands find my waist. “You want to dance like this?”

“Why not?”

“No one else is slow dancing,” he points out.

“Who cares?” I say, moving us in a slow circle as EDM pumps through the speakers.

Emil’s fingers tighten on my waist before he starts to relax. He says something I can’t quite make out, so I lean forward.

“What was that?” I ask, my lips brushing his ear.

His hands smooth around to my lower back. “I said you’re really tall tonight. I mean, you’re always tall, but right now, with the heels…”

His words trail off, and I smile to myself before leaning back enough to catch his eye. “Do you like the stilettos, Specs?”

He blows out a breath. “Like is not the right word.”

“No?” I ask. “What is?”

After a long beat, he answers, “Enraptured.”

My heart thumps. “What?”

“You’re beautiful without adornment, Christian,” he says, each word cutting through the din around us. “It doesn’t matter what you’re wearing. But in your skirts? In those heels? You shine from the inside. And seeing that? I’m enraptured.”

Holy shit .

I focus on my breathing. On the simple in and out as Emil guides me in a circle, him leading our dance now. I don’t know what to say, and part of me wants to run. I want to run far and fast , but I can’t.

I can’t.

Emil doesn’t seem to need me to say anything. He lays his head on my shoulder, his hands warm on my back. It’s not often that I feel delicate, but I feel it now in Emil’s arms. I hate it. And I don’t.

Clearing my throat, I say, “I was led to believe you’d be a horny troublemaker tonight, Specs. And instead, you’re turning out to be very cuddly.”

His lips brush my neck, almost a kiss. And then his hips press against me, and… Oh .

“I’m trying very hard ,” he says.

I huff a laugh, grabbing ahold of him to grind us together. “I can feel that.”

“Christian,” he groans, breath hot on my neck.

With Herculean effort, I let him go. “Should we grab another drink? Cool down a bit?”

He nods, his forehead against my shoulder, before he takes a step back.

I grab Emil’s hand, and the two of us make our way off the dance floor, reconvening with our coworkers up in the VIP lounge. It’s my first time seeing Teddy and Kipp together, and I can’t help but chuckle at Kipp as I sip my second drink of the night. He’s telling a story, hands waving wildly as he all but sprawls over his husband’s lap. Teddy, for his part, has an arm around Kipp’s waist and a serene, calm smile on his face.

When there’s a sudden cheer that goes up around the room, I follow the gazes of my coworkers to the entrance of the lounge. A chiseled specimen of a man waves from beside a guy with blonde hair who tugs his beanie down as if trying to hide.

“Do we know them?” I ask Emil.

He huffs a laugh, his breath so close it’s as if his lips are back on my skin. “The dark-haired one is Cas. He used to work at the studio as Himbo. Next to him is Jason, his boyfriend. He’s a nurse.”

“Ah,” I say, nodding as Alex launches himself at a rather startled-looking Jason. Just behind them, another man appears, a massive grin on his face. Miles the server latches onto him immediately, hand on his arm.

“And the one being stroked by Miles?” I ask.

Emil snorts. “That’s Jason’s Brad.”

My eyebrow pops up, and I look at Emil in amusement. “Is that like a growth one acquires?”

Emil starts to laugh, covering his mouth, but it doesn’t hide the sparkle in his eye. “You could say that.”

After Alex throws himself bodily at each of the newcomers, he leads them our way. “And this is Christian,” he’s saying. “He’s new.”

“Whoa,” Brad breathes, his eyes landing on my stomach. He smacks Jason’s arm without even glancing over. “Look, Birdie. Look . You could get a necklace for your stomach! I didn’t even know that was a thing.”

Jason looks as if he wants to sink into the floorboards. “It’s really nice jewelry,” he says to me, seeming to smile apologetically. “And sorry about Brad.”

Brad says something else to Jason that I miss. When he reaches for Jason’s shirt, Jason smacks his hand away without missing a beat.

“Hi, I’m Cas,” the last man cuts in. “Nice to meet you.”

“You, too,” I answer, giving Emil’s old coworker a smile.

“Hey, Emil,” Cas adds, coming over to his side of the couch. “How’ve you been?”

“Good,” Emil says. “How’s the physio program going?”

“Oh, it’s great,” Cas replies, but I don’t hear the rest because Brad plops onto the cushion next to me.

“Is that, like, permanently attached?” he asks. “Or can you take it off to shower and stuff?”

“It comes off,” I tell him, lips twitching. “It’s held in place by a navel piercing.”

“Ah. Cool, cool,” Brad says. “I thought about getting a piercing once ’cause this girl I was dating said it’d feel good, but I dunno, man. I think sticking a needle through my dick would be painful as hell.”

Jason sighs, shaking his head.

“If you want to know about dick piercings,” Alex interjects, “ask my Ginger Bear. He has five.”

Brad chokes on absolutely nothing. “Holy shit. Finn!” he shouts, jumping from the couch and heading toward the tattooed redhead. “Can I see your dick?”

“Oh my God,” Jason mutters.

Emil’s hand on my leg pulls my attention. Cas is gone now, and Jason is following after Brad, saying something about oblivious straight best friends . Emil’s eyes look a little hazy. I know he hasn’t had enough alcohol to be drunk, but it’d be easy to assume as much with the way he’s looking at me.

“Specs?” I ask, pulse jumping as his hand slides further up my leg.

“I think we should dance again,” he says.

“Is that a good idea?” I check, considering he specifically asked me not to let him get overtly horny in public, and right now…right now he looks very horny.

Emil nods. “I don’t like to dance with people, Christian. But I like it with you.”

I pull in a breath. How am I possibly supposed to say no to something like that? Specs has me wrapped around his finger, and he doesn’t even know it. He could ask just about anything of me, and I’d say yes, just to see that trust in his eyes. Just to have his attention on me, the same way he so ardently hoards mine.

There’s so much I want when it comes to this man. Things I’ve never wanted with another person before. But most of all—above all else—I want him .

It takes me a moment to understand what that icy feeling coursing through my body is. Fear. It’s fear.

Emil’s fingers tangle with mine. “Christian,” he says softly, my name quiet beneath the noise of the club. “Please dance with me.”

“Yeah, Specs,” I answer, the warmth of his hand chasing out the cold. “Let’s dance.”