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Part 2

Randy's POV

I wasn’t waiting for him – I had stuff to do at the studio after my scenes wrapped. In fact, if I’d thought about it, I probably would have gone straight home and opened the largest bottle of alcohol I had, keeping myself FAR away from Gale.

But I blame alcohol as part of the problem, I think.

He’d wandered into my dressing room at around 7, finding me on my laptop. He ran his hand through his hair, his eyes tired and worn. When he smiled those weary eyes at me and asked if we could have our drink at his apartment, how was I going to say no?

So now I was sitting on his couch, listening to him rummage around in his bedroom, catching glimpses of his bare skin as he wandered by the door while he was changing. I gripped my vodka tonic and took a deep swig.

He flopped down on the couch beside me, his skin flushed from his recent shower. He didn’t exactly share the fixation with showers Brian had, but apparently he liked to wash off the day sometimes too. I wished I could do the same, I realized absently.

His hair also had quite a curl to the ends of it when it was wet, I noticed, as I watched a minute drop of water hang precariously on the end of one strand, falling to his shoulder in what seemed like slow motion. I watched it soak into his shirt, grateful that I didn’t have to watch it trail down his back, hang briefly on the plane of his shoulder blade and disappear into his waistband. I had no idea what that would look like.

Ahem.

He got up, pouring himself a drink and then returning with another for me, settling the bottle of Grey Goose on the table as he handed me a tall glass so full it almost sloshed over the brim. I finished the rest of my first and sipped at the one he handed me, the bubbles from the tonic water tickling my nose.

He was quiet for a moment, and I was content to let the silence sit between us. Content to watch his toes flex and dig into the carpet beneath the coffee table.

“Do you like this job, Randy?” His voice was soft, so soft I almost missed it at first.

It took me a moment to answer.

“Like it?” I paused. “Well, I guess. I’m glad to be working, anyway. And there’s potential here – they could do a lot with these characters, these storylines, I think.”

He watched me quietly.

“We could make a big impact with this, I suppose,” I shrugged.

“So how does something like today fit into that?” His words were soft but they still felt dangerous somehow.

“Hmmm. Today – yeah. Well…” I wasn’t sure what the fuck to say about today.

He shifted closer to me on the couch, so close that his knee was brushing my leg. I ignored it.

“I mean – was it weird for you?” He put his drink on his thigh, his fingers skimming the side of the glass slowly as he looked at me.

“Yeah, I guess.” I wasn’t sure how to respond. “Yeah. It was.”

I heard his sigh before I looked at him. “Good. I’m glad.” He smiled at me wanly. “Wait – no, not that it was weird, but that I wasn’t the only one,” he smiled wider.

I nodded.

“Cause you know, it was really wild for me.” He shifted closer, his long thigh lining up against mine. I fought the urge to move away, in self-preservation.

“Wild?” I looked at him under my eyelashes, my head down.

It was like it was happening to someone else when his hand moved off his glass and settled above my knee, his wet fingertips making a dark impression on my jeans.

“Yeah, wild…” he smiled – that goofy, stupid smile that made me smile back, even though every nerve in my body was flashing at me to handle this differently. To get the fuck up, right now, and walk away. Or maybe to climb onto his lap.

I let my leg push back against his a bit.

He shifted closer.

Now his face was just beside mine, his nose inches from the side of my cheek. I could almost feel his breath.

“I’ve never fucked a guy like that,” he whispered, smiling.

I nodded, smiling back, because how could I not with him so close and so…

Huh?

I turned my head to look at him. I opened my mouth to ask him to tell me exactly what THAT meant, but he was leaning forward and before I could say anything, he kissed me. On the nose. Then laughed and leaned back on the couch.

He pulled on my arm, which would have spilled my drink had I not downed two-thirds of it in the last five minutes, dragging me closer to him. Then he pulled me into the crook of his arm and leaned us both into the back of the couch, his hand drawing little circles on my arm. He did this all the time – it was like my body wasn’t even separate from his, like he didn’t realize it was someone else’s body to begin with.

“We move pretty good together,” he commented casually, like he was talking about the way we cooked, or drove, or did anything other than pretend to fuck each other.

“Gale,” I started, but he cut me off.

“So I have a question.” His fingers were making me light-headed as they tickled over my skin, sending little shockwaves radiating through my body. Or maybe it was the vodka. Yeah, must be the vodka.

“Hmm? What?” I tried to pull my arm away.

“Rimming.”

I sputtered out a laugh. “Rimming?”

“Yeah, rimming.” He picked up his drink, taking a long sip as I waited. He smiled at me, blinking slowly. I pushed away all the images that word on his tongue had sent rushing into my head.

I watched his face, saw his eyes flick from the window across the room to me, landing on my face first, but then slowly sliding down my body.

“Does it feel as good as I hear?” His voice rippled over me, a small grin fighting with the corners of his mouth.

“Uh…”

He watched me stare at him, the smile winning finally and turning his mouth into a sexy grin. My dick kicked against my zipper when he brushed his tongue across his bottom lip, his eyes scanning me again.

Something shifted, irreparably, perhaps. As his hooded eyes traveled my body, the world toppled sideways and by the time they made it painstakingly slowly back to my face, the universe had changed.

“You wanna know what rimming feels like, Gale?” I heard the purr in my voice and watched Gale’s breath respond to it.

“You want me to tell you?” I paused, standing up.

He watched me, our eyes locked as I stepped in front of him. His lids fluttered a bit as I kneeled on either side of his legs on the couch, lowering myself onto his thighs.

“Or show you?” I leaned into his ear, breathing in the clean scent of his hair, his skin. I resisted the urge to lick his neck, knowing if I started I wouldn’t be able to stop.

“Does the idea make you hard, Gale?”

He sucked in a breath under me, his hands coming to my waist, just holding me there.

Maybe I only meant to tease him, I don’t know. But when I leaned back and looked down to realize he actually was hard, I was lost.