At Long Last Read online

  “Hey, Pres?” Scott frowned and came to stand within just inches of him. He waved his hand in front of Preston’s face. “Earth to Preston.”

  “Fish and salad,” he forced himself to say. Almost of its own free will his hand went to the back of Scott’s neck, pulling him closer.

  Scott’s violet-blue eyes widened ever so slightly. Darting out his tongue, Preston used it trace Scott’s lips. He brushed his thumb across the moistened lips, parting them, then touched the tip of Scott’s tongue with the pad of his thumb.

  Forgetting his thoughts about not kissing Scott, he grasped Scott’s chin in his hand and crushed his mouth under his.

  Scott gasped and mumbled, “Dinner?”

  “Later,” Preston insisted. He reached for the hem of Scott’s shirt and pulled it up off his abs. He grazed his fingertips over the bare skin.

  He pushed Scott toward the bed, yanking the shirt from his body and tossing it in the air. Scott fell on the bed and Preston grabbed his legs. He tugged off his sneakers and then reached for the snap of Scott’s jeans.

  “Whoa, whoa, what the hell?” Scott lifted his ass a little so Preston could remove his jeans and briefs. “What’s the rush?”

  “Now,” Preston growled. He knelt next to the bed and, grabbing hold of Scott’s legs, scooted him to the end so he had easy access to Scott’s ass. Before the other man could protest further or say another word, he stabbed his tongue into Scott’s hole.

  “Jesus,” Scott breathed, shuddering.

  Preston thrust his tongue in over and over, his hand grasping Scott’s erection. He knew he was a little crazed, but he couldn’t seem to control himself. He slipped in a wet finger and then another, spreading Scott’s ass. He wanted to fuck Scott now.

  Condom.

  He needed to get one. Gritting his teeth, he released his grip on Scott’s cock and stood.

  Scott blinked, staring at him. “What?”

  “I have to get a condom.” Preston dashed to the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. He pulled out a couple of packets and on his way out of the bathroom started shrugging out of his own clothes. When he’d come home from work he had changed out of his suit into black slacks and a red T-shirt. He quickly disposed of them, tore open the packet, and made short work of rolling the latex over his hard, aching cock.

  He knelt on the bed, trapping Scott with the weight of his body. He scorched his lips over Scott’s and then flipped the other man on to his stomach.

  Preston rose above him, his fingers parting the other man’s cheeks. Poising his cock at Scott’s entrance, he pushed inside. With a deep groan, Preston thrust in balls-deep. He closed his eyes, letting the sensation of being inside the other man fill him. He was so damn tight.

  “Scotty,” he moaned. He started moving with long, deep strokes.

  Scott’s fingers gripped the blankets and sheets on the bed, his ass rising with Preston’s pumps. He pushed back aggressively against Preston, his muscles clenching around Preston’s cock.

  His orgasm was coming fast; he’d wanted to keep it going, but he was too turned on, too hot to prevent it. Later, after he’d fed them, he would take his time.

  Unable to keep from coming, he bucked and rocked inside Scott, screaming his release hoarsely.

  “Oh God,” Scott gasped, tensing and shooting into the sheets.

  The smell of sex and sweat permeated the air. He pulled out of Scott and lay flat on his back, holding the other man close to his side. He closed his eyes, willing his heartbeat to return to normal. Willing himself to return to the way he was before. Before Scott. He feared it was too late. In fact, he was scared shitless.

  Scott stirred and rose slightly to stare down at Preston. “Um, not that I’m complaining or anything, because that was really hot. But, I’m really hungry.”

  Preston laughed. “Yeah, sorry. I sort of had only one thing on my mind.”

  Scott smiled. “Apparently. But I haven’t eaten since like one o’clock this afternoon.” His gaze went to the digital clock on the nightstand next to the bed. “It’s now almost eight.”

  “Well,” Preston said, sitting up. “You were late.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  “Okay, get dressed. I’ll go start the fish.” Preston rose and found his own discarded clothes. He paused while pulling on his T-shirt. “I’m really glad you came tonight.”

  Scott nodded. “Me too. Pres?”

  “Hmm?”

  Scotty bit his lip and then looked away. “It’s nothing. I think I’m going to take a quick shower. Okay?”

  Something was bothering Scotty, and Preston had a good idea what it was. He wanted to talk about their having sex. Problem was, Preston just wasn’t ready for that. And he didn’t want to say anything to send Scott away. The younger man looked ready to bolt. He couldn’t explain to himself this absurd reaction he had to Scott, let alone explain it to Scott.

  “Sure. There are towels under the sink.”

  Chapter 6

  Scotty woke up facing the window with the sun streaking in through partially open mini-blinds. He was spooned against Preston, and the other man’s arm rested across his middle. The sheets were tangled between his legs. He glanced at the clock next to the bed. Seven o’clock already. Normally he would be up and showered by then.

  He gently pushed at Preston’s arm and struggled to sit up. Preston murmured in his sleep, then turned over to lie on his stomach. His dark hair stood on end. He was adorable, and for several minutes Scotty just watched him sleep.

  Preston was a damn fine cook. The halibut had been full of flavor and fixed perfectly. He was also damn fine in bed. Scotty grimaced a little at how sore he was.

  He found it a little strange to be waking up in someone’s bed. He couldn’t remember sleeping over at a lover’s house recently. He wasn’t a slut, but he also didn’t allow such intimacies with many sex partners.

  He swung his legs out and onto the floor and walked over to the window to peek out. A gloriously sunny day. No one in his right mind would want to go in the office on such a day. Which had him thinking.

  Turning back to face the bed, he called out, “Hey, Pres, wake up.”

  Preston stirred but didn’t open his eyes. Scotty walked back to the bed and sat next to him. He shook him further awake.

  “What?” Preston grumbled.

  “Let’s play hooky from work today. It’s Friday. You could call in sick, and I can say I’m out in the field all day doing investigative stuff. We can drive up the coast to Morro Bay and make a weekend of it.” Morro Bay in Central California was Scotty’s favorite location in the world. Some day he hoped to live there. He loved the idea of going there with Preston.

  Preston rubbed his eyes with his fists and then sat up. He frowned. “What the hell? What are you talking about? Play hooky?”

  “Yeah. Come on.” Scotty grinned.

  “You want to go away together? Like a…a couple?”

  The incredulous, nearly panicked tone of Preston’s voice threw ice water all over Scotty’s enthusiasm. What had he been thinking? They weren’t a couple. He was an idiot.

  “Never mind,” Scotty said quickly. He glanced down at his own naked body and his vulnerable state hit him hard. He yanked a corner of the crisp white sheet over his lap and tried to make his voice casual. “Bad idea. I’ll go shower and get ready for work.”

  He stood up when Preston’s hand closed over his wrist and tugged him back down.

  “Wait,” Preston said, his mouth twisted in a grimace. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t.”

  “It’s okay, Preston. It was a stupid thought. It’s just a beautiful day, and I got carried away. No need to freak out.” He spoke lightly, hoping to make Preston smile. It didn’t work.

  Preston shook his head. “I’m not freaking out, Scott.”

  Scotty sighed. Somewhere between last night when Preston was pounding him into the mattress and this morning he’d gone back to saying “Scott” instead of “Scotty.” Distancing himself.<
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  “Look, it’s no big deal,” Scotty said.

  “Where would we go?”

  “Well, I thought Morro Bay.”

  Preston exhaled deeply. “Um, okay.”

  “Okay?”

  “Yeah.” Preston nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.”

  Scotty threw himself at Preston. “Oh, cool. You won’t regret it. We’ll have the best time. I swear.”

  Preston gave him just a hint of a smile. “Then I guess I better call work.”

  * * * *

  The drive up the coast had been pleasant. They’d purposely not discussed anything too personal, though. The conversation kept to sports, politics, the business, his time in New York, and Preston’s kids.

  Now Scotty pulled his sedan into the parking lot of a cute little seaside motel and parked not too far from the office. The early afternoon sun shined warm with a light breeze coming off the ocean. Overhead gulls flew by, trying to spy if any person had food for them.

  “Hey, wait,” Preston said when Scotty went to open the car door.

  “What?”

  “We should get separate rooms.” Preston tried to smile, like what he was saying was no big deal, but it didn’t fool Scotty. It was forced.

  “Why should we get separate rooms, Pres?”

  Preston shifted in the passenger seat. “Well, you know.”

  His fingers tightened around the steering wheel while he told himself to be patient. “We’re not going to see these people again, Pres. What does it matter if they think we’re a couple?”

  Preston looked away, out the window, refusing to meet Scotty’s gaze. His cheeks were red. “I just…just think it would be easier.”

  “So you want your own room? To stay in there by yourself?” Scotty pushed. He knew he shouldn’t, but, damn it, if Preston insisted on paying for separate rooms, then they would have separate rooms.

  “No.”

  Scotty scrubbed his hand over his face. “Look, it doesn’t make sense from a purely monetary sense to pay for an extra room if we aren’t going to use it. If it will make you feel better, you can stay in the car and I’ll get the room and they never even have to see you.”

  For just a second, Scotty hoped Preston wouldn’t take him up on it. Would insist he go in with Scotty and not try to hide anything. But even before Preston turned back to face him, relief so obvious on his handsome face, Scotty knew that wasn’t going to happen. He’d known as soon as he’d offered.

  “Okay, that’s cool,” Preston agreed. He turned in the seat and reached for his wallet in the back pocket of his jeans. “Let me give you some money.”

  Scotty waved it away. “Forget it. I’ll get the room.”

  “Why should you pay for it all?”

  “Because it was my idea. I’ll be right back,” Scotty said, quickly getting out of the car before Preston could argue. He was already feeling less happy about the trip; he didn’t want an argument to spoil it further.

  Scotty told himself he should just be pleased Preston had agreed to come at all. It wasn’t like the stuffed shirt to skip work and certainly not for something as frivolous as a weekend away. He very much suspected Preston’s standoffish ways and work ethic hadn’t helped his marriage.

  He smiled as the breeze hit his face. God, he loved this place.

  Some day.

  He opened the office door and was greeted instantly by a fresh-faced young woman of probably no more than twenty-two. She stared at him with a definite predatory glint in her eyes.

  Smiling warmly, she said, “Good afternoon, sir. How can I help you today?”

  “The sign out front says you have a vacancy. Have you got any king-bed rooms with an ocean view?”

  “Let me check for you, sir.” She punched a keyboard and then coyly glanced at him. “How long do you and your wife plan to stay?”

  “I’m not married, but for two nights, I think.”

  “Oh.” She smiled. “We do have a room for you.”

  Scotty handed over his credit card.

  “Scott Trask,” she read aloud. “Are you here for pleasure, Mr. Trask?”

  “Hope so.” He glanced back through the glass door toward his car. He could just make out Preston.

  She handed him a brochure with a red circle around a room number. “This is the room, second floor, just go down this way.” She showed him on the motel map and then slid him a plastic key card. “Here’s a key.”

  “I’ll need two, thanks.”

  “Oh.” She frowned a little and then keyed him another card. “There you are, then. We have continental breakfast in the lobby here at seven and wine and cheese in the evenings from four to six.”

  “Great, thanks.” He checked her name badge. “Kimberly.”

  Her smile widened. “If there’s anything you need, Mr. Trask, just let me know.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  He stopped to pick up a few leaflets of local attractions and then headed back to the car.

  “All set?” Preston asked when he got in to start the car to drive closer to their room.

  “Yep. Let’s get settled in, and then we can do some walking around the embarcadero.”

  * * * *

  Scotty had to admit the day was going better than he’d hoped. They were having a great time. Well, he was and, judging by his smiles, so was Preston.

  They’d had a lunch of fish and chips and beer, and they’d been cruising the shops on the embarcadero ever since. The afternoon was gloriously sunny, but not too warm. A day like this was exactly why he planned on living in Morro Bay someday.

  “So, how often do you come here?” Preston asked as they exited a shop of colorful kites and flags.

  “It’s been a while, actually. But before I left for New York I used to come pretty often. Three or four times a year.”

  Preston glanced up at the sky, his expression nonchalant. “With somebody?”

  Scotty smiled a little. “Once with a guy, yeah. And twice with a female friend. But most of the time just me. I love it here.”

  Preston grinned. “I can tell. You’re very enthusiastic.”

  He felt his cheeks heat a little and knew he was blushing. But, damn, he could be a geek. And he hated that about himself.

  Covering his embarrassment, Scotty headed into the next gift shop. It was filled with statues of whales and dolphins and even a few paintings of sea life. At the back of the shop stood a brunette woman talking with a couple. He guessed her to be the proprietor.

  He walked over to a painting hanging on the wall. Scotty recognized it as the work of a famous sea life artist. The price tag had been placed on a card at the corner of the painting.

  Preston came up behind him. “Nice. Thinking of buying it?”

  “I don’t know. I like it, but it’s pretty expensive. I don’t even have a place yet to hang it.” Scotty grabbed Preston’s hand and pulled him along to the painting next to it. Without even really thinking about it, he threaded his fingers through Preston’s. “What about this one? I like this one too. It’s about fifty bucks less.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Hello there.” A woman’s voice sounded from just a few feet away.

  Scotty turned to greet the tall, dark-haired woman he’d seen earlier. “Hi.”

  “Can I help you…two?” She paused just a bit before adding “two,” her gaze darting to their entwined hands.

  Preston shrank back a step and wrenched his hand out of Scotty’s hard enough to sting. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights. He backed even farther away from Scotty, putting more distance between them and pretending to be studying a display of postcards.

  For a moment Scotty felt physically ill. His stomach flopped, then sunk. Tears pricked his eyes unexpectedly at the snub.

  The woman’s eyes widened, obviously catching Preston’s odd reaction. “Would you like me to show you all the paintings we have of that artist?” she asked, politely.

  His knees wobbled a little. He didn’t even want to look in Prest
on’s direction. He knew he was probably being unfair. But fuck, he did not want to go down the road of hiding who he was again.

  “Um, no, thank you. I’m only looking,” Scotty croaked out hoarsely. He didn’t want to be rude, but he didn’t want the woman to see him cry. He smiled, or at least he hoped it was a smile, and turned away. He had to get out of the shop. Without looking back at Preston, Scotty walked out of the shop and halfway down the street before he stopped.

  He took a deep, fortifying breath and glanced around at the shoppers around him. No one paid any attention to him. He sat down on a nearby bench to wait for Preston.

  Okay, so maybe he was overreacting. It wouldn’t be the first time. Some of his friends back in high school called him a drama queen even. But he couldn’t shake the despair looming over him at the moment. Deep inside, he knew. Preston wasn’t going to accept being gay. And he sure would never accept Scotty as his boyfriend.

  “Hey, you okay?” Preston asked, approaching him. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his jeans. Probably afraid Scotty would try to hold his hand again.

  Scotty looked away. “I have a headache.”

  Preston sat down. “Oh? I’m sorry. When did you get a headache?”

  “Just a few minutes ago. It’s pretty bad. I think I’m going to go back to the room and lie down.” He stood up and turned in the direction of the motel.

  “All right. I’ll come with you.”

  “No,” Scotty said quickly. “I don’t want to spoil the day for you. You stay here. I’ll—I’ll see you later.”

  He practically ran away. Cowardly, maybe. But he hurried to the motel, never even looking back. When he got there, he saw that it was a little after four. Instead of heading to the room, Scotty went into the lobby and grabbed a plastic glass of white wine and sat down at a little bistro table.

  He wondered if he should go to the front desk and tell them they were leaving in the morning instead of staying a second night. He definitely had lost all enthusiasm for being there. So much for the stupid dream of maybe living there with the man he loved. Preston would never love him. Not ever.

  “Hi, Mr. Trask.”