You Can See Me (10 page)

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Authors: A. E. Via

BOOK: You Can See Me
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Chapter Seventeen

 

An hour later, everyone was let back into the building. A woman had indeed started a small fire in her kitchen, when the dish towel caught and she panicked. Her husband was able to get it out quickly, but not before the fire alarm sounded.

Ric walked Pres back to his apartment and promised him he’d be back in an hour to take him to breakfast. Ric went home and showered with Pres’s obviously favorite body wash and used a dab of his Giorgio Armani on his neck. He decided to wear his most comfortable Levi jeans and a well-worn Duke University T-shirt. The thin cotton material was soft to the touch, and he had a feeling Pres would like it. He didn’t put any product in his hair since he’d spent a couple extra minutes conditioning it in the shower so that it was delicate and fluffy.

Ric couldn’t help but smile at the thought of how much his regimen was revolving around Prescott already. Pres was all about touching and feeling. Ric would put as much time and effort into preparing himself as needed to please him.

Ric knocked on Pres’s door. A couple seconds later, Pres opened the door, and Ric saw the man was groomed head to toe. His hair was just cut, but still tousled like the models wear it. His face was freshly shaven, and there wasn’t a nick in site. His man was dressed in a white short-sleeved Polo collared golf shirt. The trim around the collar was a light tan, which matched perfectly with his tan cargo shorts. He didn’t wear socks with his white-and-tan canvas boat shoes. Prescott looked straight out of a Ralph Lauren beach photo shoot.

“Holy shit! Baby, you look delicious.” Ric wrapped both arms around Pres’s thin waist. They embraced for a while, neither man wanting to let go. Pres’s fingers gently skimmed over Ric’s face, lightly touching his cheeks, his eyes, his lips.

“You don’t mind me touching you like this, do you?” Pres asked him nervously.

“I love you touching me like this. You can always touch me. Anytime and anywhere that you feel like it, I want you to do it. Do whatever you feel.”

Ric didn’t give Pres time to respond to his words because he captured his mouth in the most tantalizing, erotic kiss he’d ever given. It was all tongue as Ric tasted every inch of Pres’s mouth that he could reach. He cupped Pres’s jaw affectionately as he walked him backward until he was cornered between his chest and the door.

The kissing got hot, fast. Ric’s cock was hard and leaking as Pres ground his erection against his thigh.

“You feel so fucking good,” Ric breathed into Pres’s mouth.

“I need you, Ric. I need you now,” Pres groaned.

“Need you too, baby.”

Ric worked his hand to the back of Pres’s head until he was gripping his neck and controlling the kiss. He wedged one hand inside Pres’s shorts, needing to feel the firmness of his ass under his large palm. He slowly rubbed up and down Pres’s seam, basking in his man’s reaction to his touch.

“Oh, Ric,” Pres groaned, his eyes squeezed shut at the intensity of his pleasure.

Pres’s moans were turning Ric on to no end. It wouldn’t be long before Ric lost complete control.

I swear
.
I’m going to take his ass right here in his entryway if he fucking moans like that again.

Ric took two blunt fingers and applied a little pressure on Pres’s tight bud, wanting to breach him so bad it hurt. “Feels good, Pres, huh? Tell me how it makes you feel, baby.” Ric licked Pres’s neck and dipped down to nip at his Adam’s apple while keeping him pressed firmly against the door with his bulk.

“My goodness. There’s about to be a fire in here now.” A women’s voice, full of amusement, broke into their kiss.

Ric jumped so hard he practically knocked Pres over. When they both parted, they were completely out of breath. Ric couldn’t help but let out an embarrassed laugh at getting caught making out like a horny teenager.

Ric took Pres’s uninjured hand and kissed it gently. He leaned down and whispered against the side of his face, “You didn’t tell me you had company.”

“I, uhh, forgot. Fuck. Ummm, this is my…” Pres was completely flushed and still panting for breath as he pointed to the snickering woman standing in front of them, boldly eyeing their large bulges in their pants.

“Oh, allow me, Prescott, while you gather your bearings,” she giggled. “I’m Janice Boggs, Prescott’s stylist. I do all his grooming and some wardrobe styling. But he has another girl that is responsible for his clothing. I’ve only been here an hour, but I already feel like I know you, Dr. Edwards. Pres has been going on and on about his new boyfriend,” the eclectic woman teased as she stuck out a thin hand with long fingernails covered in intricate designs.

“Janice, damn. What ever happened to confiding in your hairdresser? Isn’t there, like, some unwritten confidentiality clause with our relationship?” Pres feigned anger.

Ric laughed and shook Janice’s hand, careful not to squeeze too hard as he took in the woman’s appearance. She had bright red spikes of hair sticking up on her head in many different directions. Her dark eyeliner and extra-long fake lashes hid her beautiful brown eyes.

Ric lost count of how many holes and studs she had pierced in both ears. She was average height for a woman, but had about twenty extra pounds on her around her midsection. However, her smile was warm and inviting, and Ric could tell right off that she was happy to see Pres smiling the way he was in Ric’s arms.

She pulled out a business card from her classic hairdresser smock and handed it to Ric. “You have gorgeous hair. I’d love to style it for you. Give me a call if you’re looking for a hairdresser. Though I must say, the natural run-your-fingers-through-it look is really working for you.” She stopped and clapped her hands together loudly. “I could put some gold-toned highlights in your hair, give you a Ryan Gosling–type look, you know. What do you think?” she asked with a crazy sparkle in her eyes.

“I think, hell no,” Ric said.

Pres doubled over laughing at Ric’s response, when Janice, surprisingly, walked up and reached her arms up high to hug Ric around his neck.

“Wow. Not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?” Ric was confused at the sudden gesture. He saw Pres stop laughing and look in his direction, and he clued him in. “She just gave me a huge hug, and now she’s tearing up.”

Janice continued to stare at Ric in awe. “I’ve been Prescott’s stylist for three years, and I haven’t seen him laugh like that since I’ve known him. Bless you, Ric. Please keep making him happy.” Her tears flowed down her round face. She turned to Pres, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed his cheek. “Happy really suits you, Pres. I mean you really wear it well.” Janice pulled back and looked at the two of them as if they were England’s royal couple. “I’m sure you all want to start your day, so Pres, I’m going to pack up my things, and I’ll see you again in a few days.”

“Okay, Janice. Thank you, sweetie.” She walked into his bedroom and started packing away her large travel hair salon.

Ric took Pres’s bandaged hand and caressed it softly. “How’s your hand feeling, baby? Is it sore? I can give you something for the pain if it is.” He placed a light kiss on Pres’s knuckles as he inspected the bandage.

“No, Ric. It’s fine. Doesn’t really hurt at all. You’re a really good doctor. I still need to thank you for taking such good care of me last night…and this morning. I’m about to have you fitted for a cape if you keep rescuing me,” Pres said jokingly.

Ric laughed. “You really are something else. Just let me take you to breakfast, okay? Then we can work on a proper thank-you.” He held Pres around his waist and dipped low so he could nip him on his chin.

“My goodness, you two. I’m gonna have to start announcing myself when I’m about to come into the room. Your naughtiness can really make a wholesome lady like myself blush.” Janice hefted her large duffel bag over her shoulder as she shuffled to the front door and pulled it open.

“Wholesome, my ass,” Pres admonished. “I’ve heard some of your phone calls to Stanley the Stallion.” He laughed again.

She laughed hard. “Hey! Stylist-client confidentiality, remember?” They heard her giggling as she closed the door behind her.

“She’s a character,” Ric said, watching Pres gather his keys and wallet off the breakfast bar.

“You have no idea. But she’s really good at her job.”

“Yes, she is. You look gorgeous today. Did she pick out your outfit?” Ric came up behind Pres and wrapped his strong arms around him, nuzzling his neck.

“Yes, she did, actually. I had on jeans and a T-shirt, but she wasn’t having it. Not for my first date, she said.”

Ric deliciously held Pres from behind and watched him put on another custom-made, raised-hand sports watch. He grabbed his Kenneth Cole sunglasses and turned around in Ric’s arms.

“All ready.” He grinned.

“You have the most beautiful smile. Has anyone told you that?” Ric whispered.

“Not in a long time,” Pres confessed seriously.

“You don’t mind if I tell you how attractive you are to me…do you?” Ric asked before kissing Pres on his cheek.

“No. I guess not,” Pres responded shyly.

“Your smile was the first thing I noticed about you when I saw you a couple months ago in the building parking lot, standing next to your driver.”

“You’ve watched me before?” Pres asked, shocked.

“Yes. Not only once. Just this particular time is branded in my head. The sun was shining on your beautiful face as you stood beside your car. You had one hand propped up on the hood, and you were talking on your cell phone. I think you had more blond in your hair at the time because I noticed how much it glowed in the sunlight. You had on a very expensive-looking suit, and it made me want to rip it off of you. Everything except the tie…you could’ve kept the tie on,” he whispered seductively and licked the shell of Pres’s ear. “Everything about you screams style. That’s what attracted me to you right away. Your physique is spectacular and well taken care of. I’ve seen you in the gym with your trainer. I want to be the first to let you know that the workout sessions have paid off well. You are fucking fantastic.”

Ric gave Pres a big hug. He was sure Pres appreciated the description he was giving him, as he realized he probably didn’t get it very often. It had to be frustrating to never see yourself after a new haircut, or dressed up for a party, or even wearing a new outfit. People take those types of things for granted.

“Thank you, Ric. That felt really good,” Pres said into their hug.

“You’re welcome. Come on. Let’s eat. I know you are practically starving by now.” Ric moved them toward the door. He let Pres lock up and prepared to take his new boyfriend to breakfast.

Chapter Eighteen

 

Ric picked a little bistro on the oceanfront for breakfast. He was trying to be the perfect gentleman by opening and closing Pres’s door and pulling out chairs for him. He hoped that Pres didn’t take it the wrong way, but he was trying to be chivalrous.

Ric picked up the menu and started perusing through the selections. He didn’t look up for several minutes while he made his decision.

Yes, the T-bone and eggs over easy. Sounds good.

Ric was smiling hard on the inside. He felt great. He was on a date with a beautiful, sweet man. It was Sunday, and he didn’t have to work again until Wednesday. Things were looking up. Ric’s lack of a social life had really begun to put him in a rut.

“What are you gonna have, bab—” Ric slammed his mouth shut so hard it made his teeth click. When he looked up, he saw Pres sitting quietly with his hands in his lap, his menu never touched.

Of course, dumbass. He’s not going to pick up the menu.

“Pres. Oh man. I’m sorry. My brain just completely shut off for a minute.”

Shit, he’s mad. I was insensitive.
Ric watched Pres’s brow crease with anger, or was that confusion? He couldn’t tell.

“Do you want me to read the menu to you?” he asked.

“Ric, calm down.” Pres chuckled. “Do you think I’m mad? Do I look upset or something?”

“Well, I don’t know. You look kinda…” Ric’s words trailed off.

“Why are you apologizing? I was just waiting for you to make your decision before I tell you mine.”

Ric let out a sigh of relief.

“Ric, I know this menu like the back of my hand. I helped make it. I come here a lot. George, the guy who owns this place, makes the best eggs Benedict I’ve ever tasted. His restaurant is considered to be one of Hampton Roads’s hidden gems for dining.”

“I’m sorry. I assumed…” Ric stopped again. He didn’t know what to say. He’d thought Pres needed his help, again.

“Look, Ric. Some people think that because I’m blind that I need constant, twenty-four-hour assistance. Maybe that’s why I don’t date much, because people assume that I’ll be their burden. Well, I’m not a burden. Anyone that I need assistance from, I pay them to do the job. I don’t want to pay for a date. Or, if I do manage to get a date, I don’t want to make going out with me so tiresome that the person never wants to see me again. Please don’t feel like you have work to do if we go out.”

“Pres, I’m sor—”

“Stop apologizing, Ric! I’m not a goddamn kid. My fucking feelings are not hurt because you can read your damn menu. I don’t need you to pull my chair out for me like I’m a helpless broad, or help me decide what to eat, or cut up my food, and I sure as hell don’t need you to order for me. I didn’t think I was going out with my damn PA…because I sure as hell don’t want to fuck my personal assistant.” Pres had just managed to keep his voice to a dull roar.

Ric let out a shaky breath. He was going about this all wrong and royally fucking up this date. He couldn’t blame Pres for being upset…and boy, was he looking upset right now. Ric was treating him like a baby. Pres didn’t want a babysitter. He didn’t want another employee. He wanted a partner, an equal.

Ric reached out and grasped Pres’s trembling, unbandaged hand that now sat on top of the polished wood table. He didn’t say another word. He just stroked Pres’s hand for a minute hoping his touch could calm him. He thought carefully about what he was going to say next. Whatever it was going to be, it damn sure wouldn’t be another apology.

“I’m being stupid, and I guess a little self-conscious, too. You are a capable man, Prescott. I saw that in you when we first met at the elevators in our building. That’s why I was so attracted to you in the first place. If anyone is making this date tiresome…” Ric snorted indignantly, “…it’s me right now. I’m just silently praying you’re not ready to throw up your hands with me already.”

* * * *

Pres’s angry eyes were still hidden behind his dark sunglasses. Ric was being so overanxious, it was driving him crazy. They hadn’t been out in public for an hour, and already Ric had on the kid gloves. Pres began to doubt whether he and Ric were going to work.

Maybe if Ric wouldn’t have had to rescue him that night at the club, things would be going differently. He’d been beaten up by a woman, shoved into the street, and pissed himself.
Now he’s thinking poor, helpless, blind little Pres.
He’d just basically told Ric to shut the hell up with the damn apologies, and now the man was deathly quiet.

Well, here we go. Back to square one again. No company, no companionship, and no fuckin’ sex. Shit.
Pres groaned inside.
Back to cooking for my little old neighbor just so I don’t eat alone every night.
He figured the date was over now since he’d had his tantrum.

Then, he felt a strong hand grip his own, interlocking his fingers. The hold tightened, and Pres released a small breath.

“Maybe dating a blind man is not something you could see yourself handling,” Pres said quietly. He focused on controlling the gut-twisting ache he now felt deep inside him.
Things finally seemed brighter in my world. No more sunshine. Damn it!

“You’re wrong. Don’t tell me what I can handle, Prescott. I will admit that that was stupid of me to apologize for not asking you if you wanted your menu read for you, and for trying to pacify you. But, Jesus, Pres, that was only five minutes that we’ve disagreed on something. Otherwise, we’ve been having a good time in each other’s company. Are you telling me that you can’t have a fucking five-minute dispute in a relationship without you wanting to bail out? Because honestly, if we do pursue this further, I’m going to fuck up some more. Not just with being a little overprotective of you, but I hear that I have some idiosyncrasies that may drive a significant other to wanna shoot me.”

“Like?” Pres said, amused.

“Like,” Ric drawled, “I heard that I can be a dick when I’m tired. I sometimes let my job frustrate the hell out of me, and I accidently take it out on others. As far as the little things…let’s see. I drink directly out of the milk cartoon, and then I’ll leave a swallow at the bottom and put it back in the fridge. I also leave my wet towel on the bathroom floor. I’ll leave my bed unmade or not clean my apartment for weeks. And, oh yeah, if I throw my briefs toward the hamper and I miss, I don’t worry about those motherfuckers being on the floor until laundry day.”

Pres chuckled lightly.

“Mmmmm. There’s that smile.” Ric paused before adding, “I’m gonna screw up, baby. But, you being blind doesn’t have a goddamn thing to do with what I can and can’t handle.” He brought Pres’s hand to his lips and kissed his knuckles tenderly. “Just give us a real chance, beautiful, before you say we don’t work together.”

“Okay. You’re right about that. I have enjoyed you very much. It’s frightening how much I like you already. Guess we both have to lighten up, huh?” Pres said. He took his other hand and placed it on top of Ric’s before adding one request. “Just treat me like a man. That’s all I need.”

“Oh, I plan to treat you like a man, gorgeous,” Ric said seductively.

Pres moaned.
Better.
He did like Ric—more than he wanted to admit right now, not wanting to jinx it. They’d had a little spat. It happens. This was already starting to feel like a relationship. Pres was still smiling when he heard the waitress approach the table.

“Have you gentleman decided on your orders?” she asked cheerfully.

He put his hand out in front of him, gesturing for Ric to go ahead and order. Ric continued to caress his hand while he spoke. “I’m going to have the steak and eggs. My steak cooked medium rare, with Heinz 57 too, please.”

“And the usual for you, Mr. Vaughan?” she bubbled excitedly.

“Yes, Cindy. Thank you.”

Pres felt Cindy whisk their menus off the table and walk away.

“Okay, Mr. Vaughan, you’ve proven your point. I was stupid for assuming. Can we forget about the other stuff and have a nice breakfast and evening?” Ric said very close to Pres’s face. Pres could feel his warm, coffee-scented breath ghosting over his cheek. He turned in to press a small kiss on Ric’s plump lips.

“I’d like that more than anything right now,” he sighed into Ric’s mouth.

“Good.”

“Hey, Ric?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“Why do you need Heinz 57?”

“For flavoring for my steak. You know…so it will taste good,” Ric said matter-of-factly.

“Oh, babe, I’m going to show you what your taste buds have been missing,” Pres teased.

“Don’t wait. Why don’t you show me right now?” Ric groaned.

Ric kissed Pres right there in the restaurant, full-on tongue, teeth, and moans.

“Kissing was not what I meant. I was talking about food. But starting there is good, too.” Pres laughed.

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