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Authors: T. C. Blue

Tags: #Contemporary

Mandarin Orange: Sweet and Sour (13 page)

BOOK: Mandarin Orange: Sweet and Sour
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“They weren’t in public.” Dex sounded snide, and Riley fought the urge to snarl at the fucking prick. “They were in some dilapidated kitchen in one of your slums, Peter. I’d say that qualifies as private, since nobody in their right mind would ever deliberately choose to be there if they had any other option. And excuse me. I’ll be back in a little while. Peter. Riley.” The man nodded and pushed his chair back from the table, then stood and sauntered off, leaving Riley to glare after his swaying ass and hair.

“Dude. Seriously? Your buddy Dex is a fucking pain,” Riley muttered, but instead of agreeing, Peter reached over and slapped the side of his head. “Hey!”

“You’re my nephew and I love you,” Peter said, his eyes fastening on Riley’s in a way Riley wasn’t sure he liked. “But you have no idea about Dex. You don’t know who he is or why he’s here, and you certainly don’t know what I put him through in the past. Yes, he’s rude and defensive, and he’s taken some liberties -- like deleting your messages -- that might be considered intrusive, but he has reason, Riley. I
gave
him reason.”

Peter frowned, the sternness in his gaze fading, becoming something more like sorrow, as far as Riley could tell. “You don’t have any idea about the things I made him suffer through, and if I’m lucky, you never will. You’d likely end up thinking worse of me than you do
him
.
That he’s even here and trying is something of a miracle, to be honest. So I need you to stop. Dex is being as forgiving as he can, for now. I’m hoping to show him that I’m not the same man I was when we knew each other before, but it’s going to take time. It takes more than a couple months to undo the sort of betrayal I treated him to. And no, I’m not going to tell you about it. It’s none of your business. It’s mine. And Dex’s, of course, but I won’t hear you malign him when you don’t have any knowledge of who he is. Understood?”

It was a shock. Riley couldn’t deny that, even to himself. Jesus Christ, Peter was admitting to fucking up Dex’s world, it sounded like, and Riley had never taken his uncle for the kind of guy who would do that to anyone. Especially someone who -- according to Peter’s implications -- hadn’t deserved it.

“I. Okay,” Riley muttered, rubbing the side of his head even though it didn’t really hurt. “Sorry, man. He just seems so fucking... I don’t know. Bitter and sour, I guess. Um, good luck. Fixing things. Or whatever the fuck you’re trying to do.” And time for a change of subject. “I think I’m gonna quit my job. The manager’s brother-in-law, or whatever the fuck he is, is a total raging racist, man. And a homophobe. I’ve been out sick for, like, a week, but I don’t think I can go back to training that fucking shithead, man. So I hate to ask, but if you know anyone with job openings for something in the daytime, it’d be really cool if you could point me their way.”

Peter seemed a little bit stunned at the sudden change of topic, or maybe it was that Riley was asking for help. Riley couldn’t blame his uncle for that last. He’d never asked Peter for any kind of assistance before. Even living in the house and not paying rent was a favor to his uncle, who had been having trouble finding responsible people to act as superintendent for his buildings, most of which were houses similar to the one Riley inhabited. That one house, specifically, had been a concern for Peter, considering what the downstairs apartment had been for. Their arrangement had started five years earlier, but it still worked well.

“I wouldn’t be asking, except with the economy...”

“No. No, it’s fine,” Peter said, cutting Riley off. “I can’t believe Safe Haven would hire someone like that, but if he’s a legacy of sorts, then... well, that’s their business, not mine. It’s fine. I’ll make some calls. Are you interested in more security work, or...”

Riley shrugged. “Whatever, man. But if I get to pick and choose, I’d rather not have to wear another polyester fucking uniform. For the rest of my life. And I really want daytime hours. I mean, if... Well, I’m not getting any younger, right? I don’t want to be stuck working nights forever.” And if he had his nights free, maybe he could spend more time with Kelly, even though the guy was moving to the downstairs apartment. As slightly uncomfortable as the idea of Kelly being the reason for wanting different hours made him, Riley couldn’t deny it was true. “Shit.”

Peter smiled a little, just a quirk of his lips, but that was fine. “You’re thinking about him again. I can tell. You get this look that reminds me of that summer when you were twelve. Remember how you used to follow my housekeeper’s son around? I doubt you knew why you were like that with Tran, but I always suspected… but then you started with the girls and I assumed it was a momentary thing. But it seems you have a type, and this young man seems to be it. I think that’s a pretty good indication that you really do need to talk to him, Riley. I’ve seen you hung up on girls before, but you’ve never been like this.”

“Well, Kelly’s no girl!” Riley snapped it out before he even knew he’d thought the words, but it was true. The very last thing Kelly was -- with his lean, strong body, demanding lips, angular Asian features, and decidedly masculine personality -- was a girl. Peter was right, though. Riley did remember spending an entire summer following Peter’s Vietnamese housekeeper’s son around. The boy had been a few years older and never seemed to notice.

Peter chuckled quietly, his lips quirking just a bit more. Riley saw it. “I’m sure of that much. As I said, Riley, I’ve never seen a girl get so deep under your skin. Especially not with just a kiss that you said happened at least a week ago.” His eyes darted past Riley and Peter looked a bit pensive again. “And Dex is coming back, now. I don’t expect you to be his best friend, okay? But I’d like it if you could at least ratchet back the hostility. I’d consider it a personal favor.”

Riley snorted. “Dude. You’re family. You need me to be nice to the fuc... sorry, your ‘friend’? I’ll be sweet as fucking pie. Because I love you too, Unc.” And Riley did his best to be as good as his word. When Dex sat back down, Riley offered him a smile and a “Hey, man. I was starting to think you fell the fuck in.” He dragged the bottle of chardonnay from the ice bucket. “More wine?”

Okay, there was something really satisfying about the suspicious gaze Dex gave him, not that Riley was going to say so. He still thought the dude was bad fucking news, but Peter already knew that, so whatever happened between the two guys was on them. Riley had an entirely different dude to think about.

He would need to approach Kelly in the right way, Riley decided as he drove back to Hartford an hour or so later, the one glass of wine he’d finished not affecting him enough to worry over. The last thing he wanted to do was freak Kelly out.

Or come off as fucking desperate. Even if I maybe am. Shit, even with as much of a fucking shithead as that Dex dude is, I kind of envy him for the way Peter looks at him. Like Dex is something fucking rare and special. How cool would it be to have someone -- meaning Kelly -- look at me like that? Pretty fucking awesome.

He still didn’t know whether what he was feeling was a serious thing, but Riley had a pretty good idea that it could be, given half a chance. It didn’t bother him, exactly, that he was all hot for a dude; it was just so fucking unexpected. He could deal with it, though. Fuck, sex was sex, wasn’t it? And it wasn’t just Kelly’s body, anyway. It was that Riley genuinely liked the guy. He liked his personality, his voice, the way Kelly moved. The hot-as-fuck body didn’t hurt, of course, but Riley was almost entirely sure that it was the whole package that appealed to him, not any one part.

It was kind of cool, really. Maybe more than just ‘kind of,’ too.

Chapter Ten

The movie had been something of a disappointment for Kelly, though the other guys seemed to like it just fine. Then again, there was something to be said for the locker room scenes, which was probably why Leonard, Troy, and Jeremy had waxed nearly poetic once the film was finished. Then Leonard had bowed out of dinner, and Kelly had ended up scarfing down a burger and salad at the pub attached to the Hotel Durmont. He’d been right, too, when he’d first rode through town in that huge storm. The pub was a fair bit pricey. Unfortunately -- because the food had been so good -- Kelly saw many, many sixteen-dollar burgers in his future, damn it.

He was sipping slowly at the one beer he’d allowed himself with dinner when Jeremy’s phone rang. The man looked at the display, then grinned and stood up. “It’s Riley,” he said under the music piped in from above. “I’ll take it outside. Be right back.”

Troy rolled his eyes and picked at the French fries left on Jeremy’s plate, though Kelly had no idea of where the slender blond would put even one more bite of fried potato. “Honestly,” Troy said, “I swear it’s like they’re joined at the hip, some days. So you really didn’t like the film?”

Kelly shrugged, pushing his own plate -- empty but for a bit of burger bun and a few limp leaves of lettuce -- away. “It was okay, I guess, but so much of it was about football, and I know it’s un-American to say so, but I don’t even understand the rules.”

Troy blinked, those green eyes flashing for just a moment. “Well, that changes things. So the whole movie made... you know, the kind of sense that doesn’t make any sense at all. Oh, you poor baby. Even the nudity wouldn’t make up for the big bunch of ‘huh,’ would it?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Kelly answered after a moment or two. “I mean, the actors playing the... what’s the position called? The big guys in the back or whatever.”

“Linebackers, maybe?” Troy replied, grinning. “Mmmm... they were definitely nice, if you like that type. All big and muscle-y and bulgy with the big muscles.” One exaggerated eyebrow waggle later, Kelly was laughing with Troy.

“Oh, God. I would line their backs any time,” Kelly admitted. “Unfortunately, even when they’re gay, guys like that tend to be all... toppy all the time. So what did you think of Leonard?” Because damned if Kelly wanted to get into a conversation about what he’d just said about big, muscled men. It wouldn’t take much more than another sentence or two for Troy to figure out Kelly’s crush on Riley, of all people. Crap.

Troy smiled in a way that seemed playful to Kelly. “First, I can tell you from personal experience that just because a guy is bigger, it doesn’t mean he’s not willing to bend over and take it with many, many shouts of joy. Second, I think your friend Leonard is absolutely adorable. Fortunately, he seems to already know he doesn’t stand a chance with you. Otherwise, I think he’d be trailing after you like a puppy.” Troy’s smile eased slightly, going from teasing to simply amused. “Speaking of puppies...”

God, Kelly really liked his new friends -- Riley’s friends, really, but whatever. That they were sitting in a pub and Troy was thinking about Goober was just too cool.

“I took him out before you guys picked me up.” Kelly grinned. “He’ll be fine as long as I’m home -- I mean back at Riley’s -- in the next hour or so to take him for a run. Goober’s a good pup, man.”

Troy’s smile returned. “Oh, good. Can I ask about the name? Why Goober? Aside from the way he acts, I mean,” Troy added when Kelly arched a brow. At least that was what Kelly assumed brought it on.

“Well, when I found him...” Yet another recitation of the one-live-pup-in-the-box-of-death story. “So he was tiny and brown, like a chocolate-covered peanut. With hair. And then he started acting like a spaz once he was healthy and stuff, so it made sense, you know?”

“It suits him,” Troy agreed. “At least it does from what I’ve seen so far. And Riley likes him, so that’s good. Your Goober will have a friend there forever. Riley... well, he’s the sort that sticks, you know?”

Kelly frowned a little. “Sticks to what?” About two seconds after the words left his mouth, he got what Troy meant, but that was too late, and it would have been rude to interrupt the blond, anyway.

Troy laughed quietly. “His family. His friends. People who don’t quite count as friends but are more than acquaintances, you know? I mean, he drove all the way across town in a blizzard last winter, just because Pablo couldn’t think of anyone else to call when his ‘date’ turned out to be a ‘party.’ So if he likes Goober, chances are? You’re stuck with Riley until you either move away or Goober’s no longer with us.”

“Goobs is a dog, not a person.” Kelly frowned at his own words. “I mean, he’s not a human person.”

Troy nodded. “True. And yet he still loves Riley and shows it every chance he gets, right?” Kelly nodded and Troy went on. “That makes your Goober even more important. I don’t think Riley’s ever had a pet. That first experience of pet-love, when someone -- whether they’re human or not -- loves you just because you’re you? That’s addictive. So Riley’s going to stick. To whoever he feels strongly about.”

There was something in the way Troy said those last words that had Kelly feeling a little concerned, but he couldn’t define what that was. God, he hadn’t spent so much time confused since he’d been thirteen and trying to figure out why his wet dreams involved the boys on the swim team rather than the girls. Even so, he shrugged.

“It’s not like Goobs will be far away. We’re going to be living right downstairs. Riley can see him any time he wants. I’m actually thinking of giving him a key. Except he probably already has one.” Kelly thought. “Or not, because he would have given me it when I first got into town, and... oh, whatever. Crap.” God, just thinking about Riley having a key to the new place had Kelly’s heart beating faster. Harder. For no damned reason.

“I’m sure he’ll value having his apartment to himself again,” Kelly finally finished, taking a long, desperate sip of his drink in an effort to keep himself from saying anything more.

“Maybe,” Troy answered, “but I’ve heard...”

Whatever Troy had been about to say was lost because Jeremy rejoined them then, and there was something in his face that reminded Kelly of the weird expression he’d caught a couple of times earlier that day. Not that there was anything odd or even out of place with Jeremy’s “Hey, we should probably get going, guys. Um, Riley says hi, by the way. Sorry, but I have an eight o’clock class tomorrow.”

Troy looked a little surprised, but Kelly chalked it up to the suddenness of Jeremy’s announcement. Plus, it was going on ten o’clock, anyway. Kelly figured that by the time they paid their check and the guys dropped him home, then went to their own place, it would be closer to eleven, so yeah. It made sense.

What made less sense, Kelly decided twenty-five minutes later, was the way Jeremy had pulled over at the corner closest to Kelly’s place and suggested that he walk from there. It was only half a block, but still.

Then Kelly saw Riley’s old Bronco in the drive of the house and saw the lights on upstairs. He even saw Goober out on the balcony, and Goobs greeted his approach with a happy bark. Not desperate to get outside, either, because Kelly knew that sound well, but just happy to see him which meant... what, exactly?

It means Riley really did lie to me, damn it. He didn’t go to work tonight. Or if he did... maybe he really is sick now. Maybe that’s why he’s home. He’s been acting weird for days, and sometimes people act strange when they’re getting sick, and if that’s it, then I’ve been a really bad friend! And he must have taken Goobs out when he got home and I wasn’t here, and God, he’s sick and he walked my dog! That’s... really, really sweet, and... Crap, I’ve been all messed up because I thought he was lying!

Well, no matter what he’d done or thought before, Kelly was going to make it up to Riley. There was no excuse for thinking the worst of the guy. Hell, Riley hadn’t even given him any reason to think badly of him. Sure, the guy had told a few lies, but they weren’t mean or malicious. Just misleading about who Riley was and what Riley had been doing. But harmless, in the end. And now... well, with Riley sick enough to go back to work and then leave again, Kelly could forgive the lies. Forgive Riley. Maybe Riley was feverish or something, and kind of delirious, which would explain walking the dog, and...

Kelly unlocked the front door of the house faster than he’d ever done before and was up the stairs to Riley’s within moments. He pushed through that door, too, before looking frantically around the living room, suddenly afraid that he’d see Riley collapsed on the floor in a heap.

“You’re home.” The voice came from the hallway, and Kelly turned quickly enough that it took him a second to focus on the light blur that was Riley standing in the dark hall. “I’m glad, Kelly. We need to talk.”

Riley didn’t look particularly sick, but that didn’t mean anything. “Okay,” Kelly said quickly as he moved closer. “We can talk. Um, soon. God, are you okay?”

“I’ve been better. I feel sort of off balance, man, but I’m hoping you can help me with that.”

Riley’s eyes were wide when Kelly got close enough to see them. Wide and almost all pupil. “You should be in bed,” Kelly said, the overwhelming worry for Riley’s health swarming through his blood. “You look...” Well, Riley actually looked pretty damned good. Riley was wearing one of the pairs of shorts he always chose for the gym. No shoes, no shirt...
God, no problem,
and Kelly felt like a jerk for admiring Riley while the man was clearly in a bad way.

“I don’t care how I look,” Riley said, but Kelly noticed that the guy was flexing. Subtly, but enough that someone who knew from flexing could see it, which pretty much described Kelly, especially since his eyes were adjusted to the lesser light in the hallway. “But you look fucking awesome, man.”

Kelly blinked, but he couldn’t stop himself from moving further into the dimness. One hand rose to rest on Riley’s shoulder and God, Riley’s skin was hot. Not sweaty, just hot. Almost... no, Kelly realized all of a sudden. Riley’s skin wasn’t hot, it was warm. Normal, in fact, and that was just bizarre. It was Kelly who felt hot, all of a sudden. “Riley, what the hell are you doing?”

“What I need to.” Riley’s eyes were still wide, almost enough to imply that Riley was afraid or something equally unlikely. “What I need, Kelly; what I want. Jesus Christ, just don’t hate me, okay?”

“Hate you?” Kelly blinked again, his hand still on Riley’s broad, hard shoulder. “Why would I ever--” Riley’s hands grasped him without warning, and it was a strange sensation. Kelly was used to being faster than that, faster than Riley. Maybe he’d been distracted by the smooth skin under his palm, though.

Less than a second later, Kelly wasn’t thinking about moving faster than anyone, because Riley’s mouth was on his and that big, warm, more than half-naked body had him up against the hallway wall.

Riley’s hands were on him, gripping tightly, fingers flexing, and Kelly’s own hands were tight on flesh and hair, one still on that shoulder, the other at the nape of Riley’s neck while the man -- the
straight
man -- plundered his mouth with more finesse than anyone Kelly had ever kissed before. Even Riley, the one time they’d kissed in the kitchen, hadn’t treated Kelly to the kind of deep, hard
taking
the man was giving him then, and Kelly loved it. Wanted it to go on for hours.

“Oh, God.” Kelly thought he’d whispered it, but he couldn’t be sure because that mouth was still on his and Riley’s tongue was still sweeping roughly through his mouth. It didn’t much matter whether it was merely thought or actual speech, though. Not when Kelly could feel Riley’s body against him, Riley’s prick growing harder, bigger in the small shorts the guy wore. And Kelly’s body was responding just as quickly, answering the lure it had never expected to be offered.

It was hot and wild and oddly desperate, and yet Kelly couldn’t quite manage to wonder about any of it. His mind was there, of course, but the rest of him wasn’t listening, and why should it? One of the hottest men he’d ever known was kissing him, humping him in the hallway, and so what if Riley was straight? So what if whatever this was didn’t mean anything? So what if Kelly’s straight roommate wanted...

Straight. Straight. He’s straight.
“Wait!”

God, Kelly thought saying that one word was possibly the hardest thing he’d ever done, even if it had vanished into Riley’s mouth. Then he made himself pull away from the hungry kiss, and saying it again just about killed him. “Wait. Riley, wait. What... God, what are you doing?”

“Making you an offer,” Riley mumbled, his eyes still wide and darker than dark. “Need you. Now. Have me, Kelly. Fuck, have me, okay?”

His mind whirling from what he thought those words meant, Kelly didn’t bother to resist when that kiss returned and went deeper. God, he didn’t even want to fight it. It just felt too good.

“Yes,” he managed before losing himself completely in the one man he knew he should be staying far, far away from... and it felt amazing. No, more than amazing, it felt perfect.

***

I’m pretty sure this isn’t what Peter meant when he said I should talk to Kelly. It’s not even what I planned on when Jeremy promised to have Kelly home soon. But fuck it, this is better...

Christ, it really, really was. The first kiss, in the kitchen, Riley had been sort of stunned. Even after he’d started participating, his mind had been spinning. This time... well, his mind was still spinning, but not from surprise. This time it was a combination of adrenaline, excitement, and determination that had his brain dancing a fucking jig, twirling around like one of those fruity guy ballet dudes. Though fruity might not be the right word, since Riley was the one whose cock was trying to bust through his shorts while he kissed a guy. Kissed Kelly.

Fuck, Kelly felt good against him. A little strange because Riley kept expecting to feel tits instead of a hard, toned chest. Soft hips rocking against him rather than a hard length that matched his own. Sense-memory, he figured, because that was what his body had always known, but
fuck
sense-memory. He was liking the differences just fine, wasn’t he?

BOOK: Mandarin Orange: Sweet and Sour
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