Too Stupid to Live(Romancelandia) (13 page)

“You need to get some stuff together?” Sam nodded. “You eat anything tonight?” Sam’s eyes got big all over again, and he bit his lip before nodding. Ian watched his teeth gnaw on his flesh.

“You better get moving, then.” He forced himself back before he replaced those teeth with his own. Slowly, Sam pushed himself off the wall, stepping from the square of linoleum to the carpet.

Cute
.

The word floated in Sam’s brain while he was throwing things together to go to Ian’s. Picking his way through the piles of clothes, books, and whatever that populated his floor. And his furniture. No wonder Ian wanted to go to his place.

Cute.

Ian thought he was
cute
. No one had ever called him anything like cute before. Not even Nik, who often told him to stop worrying, he was attractive to a certain type of guy. Sam had always assumed Nik meant the kind of guy who wasn’t attractive to much of anyone, like Marley.

He snuck another glance at Ian, standing near the door with his thumbs hooked in the pockets of his jeans, his black leather jacket spilling over his forearms, watching him. Sam stumbled over something on the floor. He looked down, embarrassed at being a klutz in front of Ian, even if it was kind of Ian’s fault for making him nervous.

Oh
. He’d tripped over the single bare patch of floor in his entire apartment.

Sam sighed and wished Ian would stop watching him. There was that tiny little place inside of him that was terrified Ian would see how gawky and unattractive he really was, and say, “You know what? I changed my mind.”

Okay, well, it was actually a biggish part inside of him.

“I think I’ll wait outside.” Sam jumped and whirled to face Ian when he spoke. He looked like he was trying to stifle a smile.

“Okay,” Sam croaked.

After Ian walked out, Sam slumped in relief—until it occurred to him that Ian might be making his getaway. He tiptoe-ran over and put his ear to the door, sucking in a breath when he heard Ian’s footsteps trail off toward the stairs.
Dammit, he decided I’m a dork, he
is
leav
—

Sam’s inner monologue shut up when he heard Ian’s feet stop, then start up again, but this time heading back toward Sam’s door.
He changed his mind!

Ian’s footsteps reached the door, then paused. Sam heard a sort of foot-drag sound, then Ian started walking away again. Slowly.
Shit!
He changed his mind.
Again!

Sam listened to Ian make the circuit three or four more times before he realized Ian was pacing. Impatiently? Had
he
made Ian impatient? Sam leapt away from the door and started shoving random items into his backpack again.

He was in the bathroom, grabbing whatever, thinking about how Ian had actually wanted to
feed
him before taking him home and fucking him, when he realized he needed to take a shower. He froze mid-reach, staring at himself in the mirror.

He knew what was going to happen when they got to Ian’s house, and he definitely needed to wash first.

Okay. Ian would probably let him take a shower there, right? He wasn’t inviting Sam over to
sleep
with him. He wanted to
stay awake
with him. And he’d want Sam to be, you know,
clean
before they got all dirty. So Ian would let him take a shower.

Or maybe he should ask. He groaned at himself in the mirror. Oh, God, no. That was dorky, wasn’t it?

Sam argued himself into a mental dither. Finally, he took himself firmly in hand, grabbed his toothbrush, and determined he’d simply ask if he could take a shower when they got to Ian’s place.

When he whipped the front door open, Ian was standing right outside it. Sam watched his shoulders drop—if he didn’t know better, he’d think Ian’s shoulders had been trying to climb to his ears.

“I was starting to think you’d changed your mind,” Ian said, smiling a small, tight smile. Sam stared at him. Seriously? Why would he ever change his mind?

“Ready to go?” Ian asked in a stronger voice.

“Totally.” Sam nodded and threw his backpack over his shoulder.

Ian looked at Sam in his living room and thought about what he needed to say, now that they’d made it this far.

Yes, he wanted to see Sam. But he had some rules . . . maybe he should call them guidelines. He had some guidelines he needed to put into place before anything else happened, especially after that kiss. He didn’t really want to do this now, but they needed to have the conversation he’d been avoiding since the first time they hooked up.

He also needed to make sure Sam understood that this might not lead to anything. Thinking you maybe might kinda want more than sex wasn’t good enough. What if it turned out he didn’t? He couldn’t mislead Sam. Jurgen would never forgive him.

Ian took a breath. “So, if we’re going to start—” he cleared his throat “—seeing each other regularly, maybe we need a few, um, parameters.” Parameters—that was the perfect word.

Sam stopped looking around and turned to Ian, silent for a long second. “Parameters?” he asked.

“Yeah, so there are no misunderstandings about how serious this is going to get.”

Sam fiddled with the strap of the pack hanging in his hand, frowning. “You’re going to put a limit on how serious
this
will be? What’s
this
, exactly?”

Okay, yeah, excellent place to start. “This is you and me, hooking up a few times a week because we have hot sex. And I like you, you know, platonically.”

This time there were many, many seconds of silence while Sam studied him with slightly narrowed eyes. “Sooo . . . by ‘seeing’ me, you meant you’ll see me naked in bed a couple times a week, but you won’t be seen
with
me. In public. Were you going to get me a Batphone or something, so you can call me up and tell me when to meet you in the Batcave? What about Batgirl, is she invited? Because I don’t really want to perform for her or, you know,
involve
her.”

Ian laughed, but it fell flat on the floor. He choked it off. “Well, yeah, it’s about sex—”

Sam pointed a finger at him. “I’m not going to be someone’s secret gay hookup.” He pulled his hand back and slapped himself in the forehead. “I should have known when I found out you were passing as straight to just stay the hell—”

“I’m not passing as straight.” He was so surprised he took a step toward Sam. “I used to when I worked for the fire department, but I’m not denying I’m gay anymore. Is that what Jurgen told you?” Dammit, Jurgen would do anything to fuck this up for him, wouldn’t he?
Asshole
.

Sam looked at him from under his hand. “Nik told me,” he mumbled.

Ian clenched his teeth and counted to ten in his head. Fine. He’d never told Nik and Jurgen otherwise. Not to mention getting mad at Nik wouldn’t get him what he wanted. “I’m not going to hide you away,” he said evenly.

“Okay,” Sam said. He didn’t sound convinced. He gripped his too-long hair, pulling on it.

Dammit
. Ian took another step forward. “I’m honest about it with people if they ask. I’m not sending announcements out, but I’m not lying anymore.” One of his hands wanted to reach for the kid, but he didn’t let it.

“’Kay,” Sam said, nodding slightly. “So . . . did anyone ask you after that night at Fatty’s?” He lowered his hand to his side, looking up at Ian from under his brows.

Hell
. “Yeah. Two people.”

“And you told them?”

Ian took an unobtrusive deep breath. “I told one, but the other guy . . . he wasn’t really asking. The guy who made that remark about you, Tierney—he was just trying to give me shit. I’ll tell him eventually.” Ian had the sense he was losing Sam, here. “I told my assistant Andrea when she asked, though.”

Sam chewed on his lip. “So . . . Andrea works with you, and so does Tierney?”

“Sort of. He’s the government affairs officer of the local ambulance company, and the liaison to my department from the State Ambulance Association. I went to college with him, and he helped me get this job.”

Sam ran a hand through his shaggy hair. “And you didn’t want to fuck that up?”

“He’s a ’phobe, but me telling him isn’t going to change our working relationship. I mean, I’ll have to deal with him no matter what. I’m going to say something to him, but I’ve known the guy fifteen years
without
outing myself. Doing it now will be . . . difficult.”

Sam sighed. “Maybe you should tell me about your ‘parameters.’”

Another step forward, trying not to spook Sam, but getting close enough to make his physical presence felt. “I’m doing this for you, setting parameters. You don’t want to get into this not knowing where you stand, or thinking it could be more serious than it is. I’m a casual guy.” A casual, emotionally connected guy.

Sam blew out a breath and dropped Ian’s gaze. “I sort of knew that already.” He added something too low for Ian to catch. This wasn’t looking good. He needed to get Sam to focus on the benefits of being with him.

“Look at me,” Ian barked. Sam did immediately. “See?” he continued in a softer voice. “You respond to being told what to do, don’t you? You like it, even.”

Sam swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down his throat. “Sometimes.”

“With me.”

Sam nodded jerkily.

“You ever have sex like you do with me, Sam? That good?”

Sam’s nostrils flared. “No.”

“It’s fucking hot for me too. You know I have a hell of a lot more experience than you.” Ian had to tread carefully—more carefully—here. “It could be even better. Maybe the best sex I’ve ever had.”

Hell. So much for treading carefully. But Sam didn’t look mad or upset, and for whatever reason that irked Ian. Sam should be pissed it wasn’t the best sex Ian had ever had, shouldn’t he? Instead, Sam cocked his head curiously and asked, “How?”

Ian shook off his annoyance. He had Sam just where he wanted him, right? Right. He took a step closer, within intimate touching distance. He meant to grip the back of Sam’s neck, but instead he tucked a chunk of sort-of-too-long sandy hair behind Sam’s ear,
then
rested his hand on the back of Sam’s neck. “I want you to trust me.”

Sam sucked in a quick breath. “Why?”

“You have fantasies. You need to trust someone before you can get into them, right?” Sam nodded hesitantly after a moment. “Maybe you want someone else to take away your choices. Just during sex,” Ian added quickly when Sam opened his mouth. “Tie you up.” Tension invaded Sam’s neck under his palm. Ian leaned forward, speaking into Sam’s ear. “Tell you when you can come. Feed you his nuts until you choke on them.” Sam gasped, and Ian watched his cheeks flush. “If you trust me, I can make those fantasies real.”

Sam wouldn’t quite look at him. “You can’t tie me up until I’m ready,” he said quickly.

Ian’s surprise and curiosity flared up, but he only squeezed Sam’s nape gently. “Of course not.” They sure the hell were going to be talking about that later.

Sam slowly raised his eyes to Ian’s, parting his lips to lick them. “Maybe,” he whispered. Ian smiled at him, circling Sam’s wrist with his free hand and pulling him forward. Before he could press his mouth against Sam’s and slide his tongue into it, Sam asked, “But what about your parameters?”

Parameters
? Oh, those. “How about just that one, for now.”

“What one?” Damn he was stubborn.

“About this being just sex.” Ian didn’t give Sam a chance to answer; he pulled him forward with the hand on the back of his neck and kissed him.