Tipping the Balance (32 page)

Drew stopped his assault on Brad’s back. He looked up and laughed. “Sorry about the wet spot on the back of your shirt.”

“And the one in my underwear. Damn, Drew. You sure know how to short-circuit my brain,” Brad said. “But dinner’s ready. You seem to like this big body I’ve got, and while I’ve got no complaints about that, it takes a lot of food to keep running.”

Drew dropped his hands, albeit reluctantly. “What can I do to help get dinner on the table?”

“Dishes and beer,” Brad said.

“Coming right up!” Drew said, and in short order they sat down to a simple but tasty meal. “This is really nice.”

“Thanks,” Brad said softly. “So how was your day after the dedication?”

“Really good. The first open house didn’t have much traffic, but the second one? Wow,” Drew said.

“Good?”

“Bidding war,” Drew said.

“What’s that?” Brad asked in between bites.

“Just about the best thing ever in real estate,” Drew said with a shit-eating grin. He loved this part of his job, and for purely mercenary reasons. “It means more than one person wants the property, so I can drive the price up, sometimes well above the asking price. It’s rare to begin with, and in this market even rarer.”

“Whoa, dude, that sounds harsh,” Brad said, laughing.

“Maybe, but it’s just business. When there’s demand for something, the price goes up. In this case, it’s a great house and a fair price.”

“Not for long, it sounds like,” Brad said.

“No, probably not, and it’s not uncommon for people to drop out of a bidding war if the price goes too high,” Drew said.

Brad looked puzzled. “So how do they know if they’ve won?”

“The way this one works is that the two couples who definitely want the house, along with a third who might, have a fifteen-minute window tomorrow morning starting at 9:00 a.m. I’ll check in with my clients, but I’ll also let the low bidders know what the highest one was and give them a chance to revise their offer.”

“Upwards, of course,” Brad said.

“Of course,” Drew smirked.

“Still sounds kind of harsh,” Brad replied.

Drew shrugged. He took a sip of beer. “It is what it is—product and demand, and no one’s going into this blind. I represent my clients, the sellers of the house. The people who want to buy it also have people representing them. The only advantage anyone has is financial… someone’s going to have or be able to borrow more money than the others, and that person will win. It’s my job to get my clients an offer for as much as possible. They don’t have to take it. They could decide they like one bidder over another. I’ll advise them, but the choice is theirs.” He paused, thinking. “Think of it this way. Real estate may carry us for a while if we get the bid on the Bayard House and the city takes its sweet time paying us, so the more houses I sell for more money means freedom later.”

“If we get the bid,” Brad said.

“Then it means more leeway on flipping and renovation once you get your contractor’s license,” Drew said. Tomorrow would probably be a long, complicated day dealing with the bids, and he didn’t want to spend any more time on it then he had to. “So how was your day? You seemed kind of… somber this morning. Even this afternoon when you brought me lunch.”

“I was, but that was this morning,” Brad said. He hesitated. “On my way out, I thought I saw my brother Philip and his girlfriend leaving.”

“Oh?” Drew said, stilling. “What’d he say?”

Brad shrugged. “He didn’t. I didn’t call out to him or anything.”

“Your family,” Drew said, shaking his head. “So what’re you going to do? Are you going to talk to him?”

“Why would I do that?” Brad asked.

The thing that made Drew want to scream was that Brad was serious. “I don’t know… see if he has questions? See if he’s going to tell your dad? See if he’s got your back? I mean, he showed up, after all, right?”

“He hasn’t had my back so far,” Brad said, taking a long pull on his beer.

“It’s a wonder you turned out sane,” Drew said, shaking his head.

“Who says I did?” Brad said, sticking his tongue out. “Besides, it’s not like it changes anything.”

“No, I guess not,” Drew said.

After that, they switched to safer topics like coaching or renovation for the rest of dinner.

“So what’s for dessert?” Drew said once they were done and the dishes cleared. He knew what he wanted, but it had to be Brad’s choice. He was the one who had the most to lose, even if only how he thought of himself.

“You want to know what’s for dessert?” Brad said, suddenly up close and in Drew’s personal space. He moved forward, crowding Drew.

Drew stepped back a little, tilting his head up, and still Brad loomed. “Uh-huh.”

And then suddenly his back was against the wall and Brad was pressed up against him, and damn if that wasn’t the hottest thing ever. He barely had his lips parted before Brad’s mouth closed over his, hungry, demanding, desperate.

Drew made needy noises as Brad’s tongue pressed against his lips, demanding entrance, demanding his surrender, and he was only too happy to give both. He knew what he wanted, and if this was all Brad was offering, he knew it wouldn’t be enough, not anymore. Patience was the furthest thing from his mind as he wrapped one leg around Brad.

Brad reached around to grab Drew’s ass. He hefted Drew up, easily lifting him, and Drew wrapped both legs around his waist. Suddenly Drew just loved having a boyfriend bigger and stronger than he, and Brad moaned appreciatively into the kiss.

But Drew broke off the kiss. “Is this where you want this to go?”

Brad nodded slowly. “Totally.”

After this long denying himself what he really wanted, Drew wasn’t convinced. He knew if he woke up to a shuttered and withdrawn Brad, or worse, if a regretful Brad crept out in the middle of the night, he’d be devastated, and yeah, at that point, it was all about him. But he wanted nothing to poison his fledgling relationship with Brad and knew that regret would kill their romance in the cradle.

When Drew didn’t look convinced, Brad said, “I’ve already come once with you, remember? And I’m about to do it again, and I’d really like to be naked this time. With you.”

“You say the sweetest things,” Drew breathed before latching onto Brad’s mouth again.

Brad smiled into the kiss and carried Drew to his bedroom. Brad dropped Drew back onto the bed and then fell over onto him.

Drew could tell Brad was being careful not to flatten him, but damn, his double handful of big lug was pushing him into the mattress, and life was just so good right then. He shuddered as pleasure rippled through him.

Since it had worked so well in the kitchen, Drew ran his hands back up under Brad’s shirt. He traced the planes and angles of the muscles along Brad’s back, the lats and traps that were so wonderfully developed from rowing.

Brad bit his way down Drew’s neck to suck right above the collarbone. “Damn,” Drew breathed. “Everyone’s gonna know what I did tonight.”

“Damn right,” Brad said. “I didn’t mark you well enough last time. I’m a caveman, remember?”

“My caveman,” Drew whispered.

“That’s right, your caveman… oooh, damn, you’ve got about a million years to quit that,” Brad moaned as Drew brought his hands around to Brad’s front to work his nipples.

“You like that?” He thumbed them gently, feeling them pebble at his touch. He traced the areolas with his fingertips, slowly spiraling back to the center.

“Uh-huh… no one’s ever done that,” Brad whimpered. “Just you.”

Drew smirked, thinking of another surprise that lay in store for Brad, one further south. “I know all kinds of tricks to make you feel good.”

“I’ll just bet you do,” Brad said, gasping as Drew pinched them hard. “Drewwww….”

Brad sat up suddenly, his eyes almost black with desire. He paused, like he was thinking about something. Then he reached down and tugged his shirt off, tossing it on the floor beside the bed.

Drew could only stare. He’d seen Brad’s shirtless chest before, that day at the water park. Then, he had to be careful not to be caught looking. Now looking was entirely appropriate, and damn, did he look.

“Like what you see?” Brad said.

Drew nodded slowly. Did he ever. Brad’s shoulders looked like they went on for miles. Strong deltoids gave way to large biceps that he knew were strong and not merely ornamental.

Brad followed Drew’s gaze. “Bit of a farmer’s tan.”

“Do you hear me complaining?”

And Drew kept on looking. The hair on Brad’s chest—hairy enough to enjoy but not Sasquatch hairy—started abruptly at the top of his rounded pecs, not like some bearish guys he’d been with where the hair went up and over the shoulders and down the back. Drew liked hairy chests, not missing links.

Drew hardly knew where to look next, so he settled for running his hands over Brad’s chest. The hair continued down the contours of his abs, but not around his hard obliques. Drew splayed his hands out and ran his thumbs down the treasure trail. He shivered. He was going to see the end of the trail.

“You’re amazing,” Drew whispered.

Brad blushed. “How come no one’s ever noticed but you?”

“They’re blind and stupid, and their oversight is my gain,” Drew said. “But you know what else?”

Brad shook his head.

“I’m not just talking about your body.”

With that, Drew scissored and twisted and rolled, pinning Brad beneath him. He smirked as he held Brad’s arms over his head.

“How’d you do that?” Brad said.

“My brief high-school wrestling stint,” Drew said.

“You wrestled?” Brad said, teasing doubt clear in his tone.

“I told you it was brief. They told me I was too small, and I switched to cross-country. But I can still take the big ones down when I need to,” Drew said. He loved pinning big guys like Brad down. Sure, they both knew Brad could break free, but making him want to stay put, that was the fun of it.

“You don’t look that small to me,” Brad blurted.

“I got tired of being small, so I started lifting,” Drew said, smirking as he ground against the hard cock he felt straining beneath him in Brad’s shorts. “You’ve been looking, have you?”

Brad blushed harder.

“It’s okay, you know. In fact, I like knowing that you’re looking, that you admire all my hard work with the iron,” Drew said. He’d never been one for being built just for the sake of it, but knowing Brad was looking? That’d get him hard every time he thought about it.

“Hey… how come I’m the only one with my shirt off?” Brad said.

Drew looked down at him. “Can I trust you to behave?”

“As much as you ever can,” Brad said.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of. Why don’t you unbutton my shirt? That’ll keep your hands somewhere I can see them,” Drew said. Maybe Brad’s first time with a man would be less frightening, would cause fewer regrets later, if it was something he did with Drew instead of Drew doing to him.