Things that Go Bump in the Night Page 2

  “The pad thai is good if you like noodles. The spring rolls are excellent. And they have a coconut shrimp that I particularly like. Shall I simply order for us? Is there anything you will not eat?”

  “Nope. I’m not picky. At least I don’t think I am.” He grinned, hoping Dieter could hear it.

  “Excellent.” Dieter ordered, speaking quickly with the young woman across the counter, calling her by name. He ordered the pad stuff and the shrimp and some roll things and some kind of banana dessert in coconut milk to go.

  Mago pulled out a twenty and pressed it into Dieter’s hand. “There’s my share. Can I get an ice tea to go too, please?”

  Dieter didn’t say a word about the money, simply tucked it away, and they got drinks and went to sit down to wait for their food. Dieter slid into the booth beside him, rather than across from him, arm brushing his just like before. Keeping contact.

  It was arousing, aggravating because his stupid body kept responding, kept tingling and shit. Weird. “Man, winter’s going to be here soon. The daylight sure is fading quick now.”

  “Yes. I confess, I find winter rather comforting. Maybe it is because I cannot see the light, only feel it, so the dark suits me.”

  Man, any other guy got as close to him as this and he’d get twitchy, at least in public, but Dieter just seemed… natural.

  “Well, Guapo, with your coloring? Your hair? You glow in the night. I’d love to paint you.”

  Paint him naked, spread out on a black velvet cloth, hair shining….

  Shit.

  Down boy.

  “Really? Oh, that would be lovely. I fear I do not photograph well. I turn stiff and formal. Sitting for portraits is much more my thing.” Long, white fingers just touched his leg, above his knee.

  He shivered, breath catching, and damn, this was never going to work. He’d die of blue balls by the end of supper.

  Dieter’s fingers clenched for a moment, then disappeared as the man moved away an inch or two, right in time for the food to arrive. “Shall we?”

  “Uh-huh. Yeah. Sure. I…. Uh. Lemme hit the bathroom and I’ll be right out.” He shot down the aisle and into the stall, one hand in his mouth to keep him quiet, the other pumping his cock hard and fast.

  When he was done and not panting anymore, he went back out to find Dieter waiting for him, frowning in the direction he’d disappeared. The frown cleared when he reached Dieter. “Are you all right?”

  “Yep. Just needed to take care of business.” He took the bag of food in one hand and put Dieter’s hand in the curve of his elbow. “Where to?”

  “Not far. We go out to the right.” That little smile was back, and he wondered if he still smelled like roses. It wasn’t far to Dieter’s place at all. About four and a half blocks, and whatever the guy did it must be okay, because there was a doorman and everything.

  “Wow. Pretty place. What floor do you live on? In? Whatever.”

  “Eight.” Swank. Elevators, cushy carpet, and the door to Dieter’s apartment was all carved wood. That was really smart, because none of the rest of them were that way, so Dieter could feel that he was home.

  “Cool.” No one would fucking believe this—Thai food in a swank-assed apartment uptown.

  Wow.

  “Welcome to my home.” The words were oddly formal, Dieter opening up and leading the way into a sweet apartment, full of cool shit. Chrome and glass mixed with antiques, African art and fine cut glass shared space. The one thing it all had in common was texture. It was all touchable.

  “Oh man. It’s beautiful….” He looked, blinking and trying to take it all in. Man, he needed a sketch pad.

  Maybe the napkin from the food….

  “Thank you.” Dieter patted his arm. “Do you mind if I take my glasses off?”

  “Mind? Why? It’s your house, Guapo.” He put the bags on the table, started taking the boxes of food out.

  “It unnerves some people.” Those eyes were silvery blue. They went with the hair and the skin so well that his fingers itched to paint them. “Oh, that smells good. Thank you for coming with me.”

  “Thanks for inviting me.” Those eyes were fascinating, beautiful. Bright. Wow.

  The food was really good, full of light layers of flavor, and the company was good too, mostly quiet, but not uncomfortable.

  Relaxed and full, Mago let his gaze wander through the rooms, admiring the colors and shapes. The lamplight was soft, golden, filling the room with a glow. The windows were covered in heavy curtains, the fabric textured and dark.

  The colors were rich, deep, and Dieter contrasted with them sharply, standing out like a ghost. “Would you like to have dessert on the couch? I could make coffee.”

  “That would be cool. You need help?” He was going to have to watch the time. The busses would stop running when it got late.

  “Oh, if you could just take the bananas over to the coffee table, I can manage.”

  The cupboards were pretty bare when Dieter opened them to get coffee and filters, but if the guy ate out as much as it seemed, then that was probably easiest.

  Mago settled on the couch, bouncing a little, enjoying the softness, the cushion. “Love your sofa, man. It’s softer than my bed.”

  Water ran, and the smell of coffee came to him as Dieter opened the can. “Oh yes. I love soft things. Of course, I love fuzzy things and rough things and smooth things as well. Texture is important to me.”

  “Yeah, I imagine.” He closed his eyes and ran his hands over the fabric on the sofa, feeling the seams, the cloth.

  “It’s nice that you can appreciate it as well.” Shit, Dieter was right there next to him and he hadn’t heard a thing.

  “Oh. Shit. I’m sorry. I wasn’t making fun. I was just….” Feeling? Well, that would sound stupid as fuck.

  “I did not think you were.” The couch dipped as Dieter sat next to him, hand coming up to touch his face. “You’re a very sensual person, Mago. It pleases me very much.”

  “Oh.” He almost pushed into the touch, then almost pulled away. “Is… is that how you see what I look like?”

  He’d seen that in a movie once.

  “Yes. Terribly rude of me to touch without asking, but I could not seem to help it. May I see all of your face?”

  “Okay. Yeah.” He wiped the end of his nose quick, then his lips, making sure there wasn’t oil or grossness or something.

  “Thank you.” Still cool and dry, though now smelling of coffee, Dieter’s fingers worked down from his forehead to his eyes, his cheeks and nose, finally tracing his lips and chin. The exploration was thorough, and just when he thought Dieter would pull away, the very tips of Dieter’s fingers touched his lips again.

  “So soft.”

  His lips parted instinctively, a gasp leaving him. Yeah. Soft. Except, not really. Not where it counted.

  “There is another way to see you, for me at least. That is to taste you. I want that very much, Mago.”

  Oh God. Yeah. So very fucking not soft.

  “I can handle that.” Would have been smoother without the moan, but it worked.

  “Oh, good.” Then Dieter’s lips replaced his fingers, closing over his, kissing him lightly, then deeper, hand cupping the back of his head.

  Oh. Wow. He moaned, lips opening up, hands sliding over Dieter’s arms.

  They moved without him even knowing it, not until his back hit the couch, anyway, and Dieter’s weight came down on him, the kiss going really hard and deep. His heart started pounding, hammering in his chest, and he fought to keep up, to match Dieter’s hunger.

  As if sensing his struggle, Dieter backed off a bit, licking at his lips and letting him breathe. “If I go too fast, you must tell me.”

  “Okay. Yeah. That… that was…. Wow.” He reached up, fingers slipping in the soft, shiny hair.

  “Yes. Very much wow.” They kissed again, Dieter’s hair falling loose around them, cool lips pressing his mouth open so Dieter’s tongue could push in.

&nb
sp; Moaning, he let Dieter in, tongue sliding against Dieter’s, eyes closing as he sank into the kiss. It just went on and on, finally breaking again for air, though he seemed to be more out of breath than Dieter.

  “Oh, Mago. You’re quite dangerous.”

  “Dangerous? Me? No. Just an artist.” He was panting, fingers petting the long hair, stroking Dieter’s cheeks and forehead.

  “To my peace of mind, you are dangerous. I want you far too much.” Dieter bent to his neck, nuzzling the pulse that beat in his throat.

  He arched, humming low, tingles dragging over his skin, nipples drawing up tight.

  “You smell… oh, Mago. I can smell you.” Licking at his skin, Dieter tested his heartbeat, tongue pushing.

  “Guapo….” He was flying, petting, purring. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so fucking turned on.

  “Mago.” They were moving together, Dieter on top of him, and he could feel Dieter as well, could tell he was not alone in it by the erection against his thigh.

  “Hard.” He pressed his leg against that heat, offering Dieter friction. Oh shit. His belly was shaking, trembling.

  “Yes. Hard for you. Thinking about you this last week has made me ache every time.” Sharp teeth stung him, Dieter biting lightly at his throat, hands sliding down to pull at his hips, bringing him close.

  He whimpered, gasping. “Yes. Dr-dreamed about you.” The admission made him blush dark, made him turn his lips to Dieter’s hair, silencing them.

  “Good.” The word was more moan than anything, and Dieter was kissing him again, moving against him hard and fast, not letting him hide at all.

  If he hadn’t jacked off earlier, he’d be creaming. As it was, his cock was aching, pushing against the zipper of his jeans, leaking against his skin.

  “Mmm.” That sniffing thing was making him crazy, because it shouldn’t be hot, but it was. Dieter just breathed him in, nose moving along his skin as Dieter’s hands began freeing him from his clothes. He returned the favor, fingers working at buttons and zippers, finding cool, smooth skin and stroking it.

  “Yes. Yes, please.” Dieter spread him, fitting between his legs easily, their cocks coming together once they were free of wool and denim.

  Mago wrapped his fingers around Dieter’s hip, thumb stroking the long, hard prick. “Yeah. Damn. Feels good.”

  “It does. I…. Mago.” Damn. The man had the smoothest skin he’d ever felt, like glass. Those teeth weren’t smooth, though; they were sharp as hell against his nipples.

  “Oh. Oh, I….” His fingers tightened, the flash of pain smoothing into a bright pleasure. “Damn.”

  “Mmm. You taste like you smell. Spicy. Male.” Licking, Dieter worked down his belly, chin nudging his cock. “Hot. So hot.”

  “Oh. You. Fuck….” He whimpered, thighs spreading wide, eyes fastened onto Dieter’s mouth.

  Dieter took his invitation, lips and tongue sliding down over him, wet and smooth. He was tasted thoroughly, Dieter’s tongue pushing into the slit, gathering up all of his wetness. Then Dieter sucked him in deep, deeper than anyone ever had before, pulling him all the way into Dieter’s throat.

  He gasped, twisted, head rolling as pleasure took him.

  God, it was going to make him crazy. That sweet mouth kept at him, tongue working the vein underneath, lips dragging all the way up to the head before sliding back down, leaving nothing untouched.

  He was making noises, low and harsh—almost cries of pain except not, because madre di Dios, it was good. So good. Better than anything.

  When Dieter touched his balls, lightly, carefully, pleasure shot up his spine and exploded in his brain. Dieter made some noises then too, enthusiastic ones. Encouraging ones.

  He came hard enough he saw stars, bright and swirling behind his eyelids.

  Moaning, Dieter licked him clean, sliding to nuzzle his balls, the thin skin of his inner thighs, and there were those teeth again, sharp, bright pain stinging his leg.

  He grunted, shivering and spreading wide. “Dios.”

  That deep rumbling had to be coming from Dieter, but it sounded so hot. It resonated in him. Damn. Dieter had bitten him, like hard, and was licking at it, and that should bother him, right?

  His thigh throbbed, toes curling up, and he could hear his heart pounding, cock slowly filling again.

  One last lick and Dieter rose, moving up over him again, kissing him hard so he tasted himself, come and blood mixed together. “Thank you, Mago.”

  “I…. For what? You didn’t… you know. Yet.” He brushed his fingers through Dieter’s hair. “Guapo.”

  “That can wait. Tasting you could not. It is better than seeing, though I wish I could see you, Mago. You’re beautiful.”

  He blushed, shook his head. “Just a guy. You, though? I could paint you.”

  “I would like that very much.” Those fingers were still moving on him, finding his cock and playing it, sensitive though it was.

  He whimpered softly, hips shifting. “Oh, I will. I’d love to—your eyes, your hair, so…. Oh, that feels good.”

  “Your eyes must be brown, yes? I see them as very dark.” Dieter touched him, learned him, voice low and deep, blind eyes seeming to search him.

  “Yeah. I’m all dark—hair and eyes and skin. Little chico boy.”

  “Oh.” Rubbing against him, Dieter nodded, hands working on him, hard cock against his hip. “How we must look together.”

  “We look fine.” He started pumping Dieter’s cock, wanting to give as much pleasure as he got. “Feel even better.”

  “Yes. You feel very good, Mago. Taste incredible. I did not hurt you, did I?” The guy could talk, even when Mago would be way too out of breath to form words.

  “Stung a little. You got sharp teeth, Guapo, but it’s all good.”

  “Mmm. Yes. Good.” Dieter’s hand moved in time with his own, faster and faster, Dieter’s hips bucking up so Dieter’s long cock pushed against him, making them both moan.

  He was burning, licking and kissing and rubbing and moving. Loving it.

  No way could he be so close to coming again so soon, but he was, just ready to go as soon as Dieter did. And man, Dieter did, a low, animal sound coming from him, needlelike teeth sinking into his shoulder as Dieter’s come filled his hand.

  “Guapo!” Mago jerked, eyes wide, shooting again as his shoulder burned.

  It took him forever to come down, and when he did, Dieter was murmuring to him, petting him, lips and tongue still moving on his bruised skin.

  “So beautiful, Mago.”

  “Oh. Shit. Man. You melted me.” He nuzzled, hummed. “Just melted me.”

  “Good.” There was a wealth of satisfaction in the single word, and Dieter wrapped around him, holding him close.

  “Don’t let me stay too late, now. The busses stop running at eleven.” God, he was warm. Relaxed. Melted.

  “It is almost midnight now.”

  Fuck. What the hell had happened to all that time? When he stiffened, Dieter soothed him, hand stroking his hair, his back. “Stay.”

  “You sure? ’Cause yeah, I’d like that. I’ll take you to breakfast.”

  “Yes. I am sure. I want you to stay.” They curled together, Dieter covering him with that smooth, cool body.

  He wrapped his arms around Dieter, purring and happy. “Cool. Way cool.”

  He didn’t know what about this guy made him do stuff he wouldn’t normally even think of, but he did. Dieter pulled him even closer, nuzzling into his neck, and he decided he didn’t really care. At least not tonight.

  DIETER SMOOTHED his lapels and briefly wished he had a mirror he might check. He was unaccustomed to such things, having long ago accepted his lack of sight, just as he accepted the fact that his body knew when the sun went down.

  Mago was coming tonight, however, and Dieter was going to take him out to dinner—not with friends; Mago was not ready for that yet. But Dieter would still get to show Mago off, listen to the whispers that accompanie
d them, smell how others wanted Mago. He could hardly wait.

  Wait he would, though, for Mago to come to him. It was hard for Mago to accept things, especially when they involved money, and though Dieter had received an affirmative on his invitation, he was not sure Mago would come. He was late already.

  Dieter found his cane, knowing if he was to go out in public, he would need the ruse, and it gave his hands something to do as he sat. And waited.

  He heard the sound of Mago’s feet outside, then the tapping at the door, Mago breathing hard, panting. “Guapo? Am I too late? The bus broke down, and I had to walk from Thirty-Eighth.”

  Dieter stood, quickly opened the door, and held out a hand to Mago as it swung open. “You should have called. I could have paid for a cab.”

  “Oh, you waited!” He could smell the heat pouring off Mago, the hot hand sliding into his. “Don’t you look fine, man? Let me wash my face real quick and I’ll be ready.”

  “There’s no rush. We do not need a reservation where we’re going.” Dieter breathed deeply, taking in male sweat mixed with Mago’s own unique spicy scent. If he was not careful, he would be unfit to go out. He made sure the door closed and latched before using Mago’s hand to pull him close. “You might also greet me first.”

  “Oh. Hey, man. Good to see you.” Mago pushed up, lips against his own.

  Yes. Dieter licked at Mago’s lips before sliding his tongue in between them to taste. He stroked Mago’s throat, feeling sweat and grit before stroking down Mago’s arm, touching the stiff fabric of what was probably Mago’s one good jacket.

  “You make a fine appetizer, Mago.”

  “Better than fried cheese?” Mago’s laughter smelled sweet.

  “Oh yes. While fried cheese has its fine qualities, you are much more substantial. And tasty.” Dieter smiled, kissing the fine skin over Mago’s throat, where his pulse beat.

  “Oh. Oh, you make me sound all sexy and shit.” Mago swallowed, throat moving under his lips, fingers petting his hair.

  “You are, make no mistake.” His rising need proved that quite well. Honestly, the way Mago aroused him was astonishing. Dieter could not remember such a fascination, not in years. He took one of Mago’s hands in his, brought it between them to the front of his gabardine slacks.