did. He interviewed and investigated and assigned and deposed—and, of course, dealt with the things he’d already planned on doing that day.
By the time seven o’clock rolled around, he realized he wasn’t going to be able to make it to the gym.
By the time nine o’clock rolled around, he realized that he needed to shove all of his briefs in his briefcase and take them home.
The thought was depressing.
“Goddammit,” he muttered. “I finally have someone waiting for me, and I have to bring my work home for the weekend?”
“Wait!” Leah had just stuck her head in—probably to say goodnight, and to have him walk her out to her bus stop. “You’ve got someone waiting for you?”
“Maybe,” Zach muttered, grabbing his coat and his scarf from the rack in the corner. “I brought him coffee every morning—I was… you know… sort of hoping….”
“For a real date.” Leah practically crowed. “Excellent—well, text him and tell him you’re on your way.”
Zach’s pained expression made her bang her head on the doorframe.
“Okay—so, how long have you known him?”
“Shut up,” he murmured.
“And you’ve actually kissed him—you told me that.”
“Several times.”
“You know his last name.”
“Mallory.”
Leah sighed. “Zach….” she whined. “Please tell me you’ll get his phone number this weekend?”
Zach found his smile. “I think, if nothing else, that could be arranged.”
H E WAS not so sure though as he hurried into his building and realized it was, oh hell! Nine forty-five. God, let Sean still be awake, please let him be still awake, please let him be….
Sitting on the bench next to the elevator, wearing yoga pants and a long-sleeved baseball shirt, leaning against the wall with his eyes closed.
Zach had to draw a little nearer, just to make sure it was him.
“Sean?” he said softly, and Sean’s eyes remained closed but the corners of his mouth turned up.
“Someone had a late night,” he murmured.
“I didn’t even make it to the gym.”
Sean’s eyes opened, and he regarded Zach from only a few inches distance. “What happened?”
“We’ll talk about it later,” Zach told him. He placed a very careful kiss on Sean’s cheek. “Right now, do you want to come up and… uhm… I’ve got movies! Or, uhm, a soda. Or… coffee. I’ve got coffee and biscotti! Or….”
“Sex, Zach,” Sean said soberly. “I think we can skip the preliminaries. We need to have sex.”
Zach felt color wash his face. “Maybe more kissing lessons,” he said, hoping. “And, you know. Phone numbers?”
Sean’s eyes narrowed wickedly. “Okay. That’s a deal. Phone numbers in the elevator. Kissing lessons in the living room. Sex in the bedroom. We’ve got this locked. Now let me up, and we can make it happen.”
Zach backed up and offered him a hand, and Sean took it—and used the leverage to launch himself at Zach. Their mouths met, melded, and time ceased to exist, as did the rules of physics.
The elevator dinged, and Sean steered them inside, pressed the button for floor thirty, and the kiss went on.
The Tower Floor
Z ACH DIDN ’ T see if there were people in that elevator or not. Everything was a haze except Sean’s mouth on his, and the quietly murmured instructions.
“It’s a dialog,” Sean said. “See?” He pressed his mouth against Zach’s and Zach opened in response. Sean pulled back and breathed, “Good, now listen to this next one.” And then he touched his tongue to the edge of Zach’s lips and Zach drove his tongue into Sean’s mouth like a deep-core drill trying to strike oil.
Zach half expected Sean to correct his form or punctuate his tongue work or something but Sean went boneless in his arms, opened his mouth, and melted against the back of the elevator. Zach tasted everything— tongue, teeth, tonsils—and then pulled back, touched Sean’s lips and then moved in a little deeper and then accepted the quest of his
By the time seven o’clock rolled around, he realized he wasn’t going to be able to make it to the gym.
By the time nine o’clock rolled around, he realized that he needed to shove all of his briefs in his briefcase and take them home.
The thought was depressing.
“Goddammit,” he muttered. “I finally have someone waiting for me, and I have to bring my work home for the weekend?”
“Wait!” Leah had just stuck her head in—probably to say goodnight, and to have him walk her out to her bus stop. “You’ve got someone waiting for you?”
“Maybe,” Zach muttered, grabbing his coat and his scarf from the rack in the corner. “I brought him coffee every morning—I was… you know… sort of hoping….”
“For a real date.” Leah practically crowed. “Excellent—well, text him and tell him you’re on your way.”
Zach’s pained expression made her bang her head on the doorframe.
“Okay—so, how long have you known him?”
“Shut up,” he murmured.
“And you’ve actually kissed him—you told me that.”
“Several times.”
“You know his last name.”
“Mallory.”
Leah sighed. “Zach….” she whined. “Please tell me you’ll get his phone number this weekend?”
Zach found his smile. “I think, if nothing else, that could be arranged.”
H E WAS not so sure though as he hurried into his building and realized it was, oh hell! Nine forty-five. God, let Sean still be awake, please let him be still awake, please let him be….
Sitting on the bench next to the elevator, wearing yoga pants and a long-sleeved baseball shirt, leaning against the wall with his eyes closed.
Zach had to draw a little nearer, just to make sure it was him.
“Sean?” he said softly, and Sean’s eyes remained closed but the corners of his mouth turned up.
“Someone had a late night,” he murmured.
“I didn’t even make it to the gym.”
Sean’s eyes opened, and he regarded Zach from only a few inches distance. “What happened?”
“We’ll talk about it later,” Zach told him. He placed a very careful kiss on Sean’s cheek. “Right now, do you want to come up and… uhm… I’ve got movies! Or, uhm, a soda. Or… coffee. I’ve got coffee and biscotti! Or….”
“Sex, Zach,” Sean said soberly. “I think we can skip the preliminaries. We need to have sex.”
Zach felt color wash his face. “Maybe more kissing lessons,” he said, hoping. “And, you know. Phone numbers?”
Sean’s eyes narrowed wickedly. “Okay. That’s a deal. Phone numbers in the elevator. Kissing lessons in the living room. Sex in the bedroom. We’ve got this locked. Now let me up, and we can make it happen.”
Zach backed up and offered him a hand, and Sean took it—and used the leverage to launch himself at Zach. Their mouths met, melded, and time ceased to exist, as did the rules of physics.
The elevator dinged, and Sean steered them inside, pressed the button for floor thirty, and the kiss went on.
The Tower Floor
Z ACH DIDN ’ T see if there were people in that elevator or not. Everything was a haze except Sean’s mouth on his, and the quietly murmured instructions.
“It’s a dialog,” Sean said. “See?” He pressed his mouth against Zach’s and Zach opened in response. Sean pulled back and breathed, “Good, now listen to this next one.” And then he touched his tongue to the edge of Zach’s lips and Zach drove his tongue into Sean’s mouth like a deep-core drill trying to strike oil.
Zach half expected Sean to correct his form or punctuate his tongue work or something but Sean went boneless in his arms, opened his mouth, and melted against the back of the elevator. Zach tasted everything— tongue, teeth, tonsils—and then pulled back, touched Sean’s lips and then moved in a little deeper and then accepted the quest of his
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