Page 18 of Gin & Sin (Last Call #2)

EIGHTEEN

STEWART

Watching Kit move around his kitchen in all his naked glory is a visual treat. His body is toned and chiseled in certain places, like his thick thighs and curvy ass, but he’s the right amount of soft in other places, like his tummy. The hair on his body isn’t too thick, but it’s dark enough in color that it tempts me to rub myself all over him like a cat.

When he bends over to get cream out of the fridge, my breath catches from the sight of his ass in that position. My mouth waters and my cock swells simply thinking about putting my mouth there later. Fuck. My head is swimming like I just guzzled a beer.

“Just black or you want a little cream?” Kit asks, oblivious to how he’s twisting me up without even trying.

“A little cream sounds nice.”

Kit winks, then turns his back to continue making our drinks. He wants to get to know me. What does that even mean? Are we going back to our childhoods? I’ve already told him about my succinct romantic life. There isn’t much else.

My stomach is still a little twisted up at the idea. There’s a part of me deeply craving the intimacy that eluded me during my marriage, but to what end? This isn’t a relationship with Kit. It’s a wonderful interlude between my old life and my new one, and the smartest thing I can do is not let myself get attached to a guy like him. Tying him down would be about as easy as harnessing a tornado.

As he walks over to me with two steaming mugs in his hands, my eyes zero in on the way his cock and balls swing heavily between his legs. He grins, obviously aware of my hungry gaze.

“Here you go, Professor.”

“Thank you, sir.” I take a sip, gazing at him over my mug. “I get called professor about a hundred times a day. It definitely sounds different when you say it.”

Kit chuckles. “I should hope so. I mean it in a very filthy, fantasy come true kind of way, though I bet some of your students do too.”

“Gross. I still see them as kids. Even the few later-in-life students I have don’t appeal to me like that. When I go to work, all I see is the work. I view my students as…” I pause, chuckling. “It’s dumb.”

“What?”

“Clay? An unpainted canvas? It’s my job to mold them in the subject I’m teaching. While I do recognize the individual person, it’s a detached view.”

“Give me an example.”

Sipping my coffee, I think about my students. “Okay, for example, there was a student last year in my Social Deviance course. His name was Alex, and I sensed that he had more in him than he was giving. I knew his academic background and that he was on a full scholarship. I knew he used to be an athlete but an injury sidelined him. I knew he had a girlfriend named Marisa, and that his major was business. I knew he was smart and understood the material, but he didn’t want to show that in front of others. It was almost as though he wanted to be perceived as a jock and nothing else.”

Kit nods. “That’s a lot to know.”

“Right. I knew all the things I needed to know about him to help him succeed in my class, but ask me what he looked like? What color his eyes were or how tall was he? What he did on the weekends?”

“Ah yeah, I get it.”

“He could’ve been the best-looking man on the planet and I wouldn’t have noticed.” Cupping my mug, I chuckle at a memory. “Two years ago, there was a student named Brittany. She caused a little stir in the faculty room. Apparently, several of my peers found her distracting because of her looks and the way she dressed. One of my colleagues was positive she was flirting with him and tried to avoid being alone with her. They described her to me and I was drawing a blank. Turned out I had her in two different courses of mine and didn’t realize it. She didn’t even register in my mind. Once she was pointed out to me, I could see what they meant, but she was nineteen. A child in my eyes.”

“Fuck yeah, nineteen is too damn young.”

“Unfortunately, not all of my peers agreed. There was a scandal that ended in her expulsion and his termination and subsequent divorce.”

Kit scrunches his nose. “I’ve been reckless with where I let my dick lead me more than once, but never when it could ruin my life.”

“Smart. I would never cross a line. Not even with a peer, honestly. We had an adjunct professor a few years back who was pretty attractive. I think that was when I started to understand that my interest in men wasn’t as innocent as I tried to make it in my head.”

“What did he look like?”

“He was short, like, five-six I think, but his energy made him seem ten feet tall. He had these light green eyes that snagged your attention, dark tan skin, curly blondish-brown hair. Very stylish, funny, boisterous. He taught Japanese while our main professor was recovering from a skiing accident.”

“Sounds like he had a unique look.”

“He did. His mother was Japanese and his father was black. He was raised in Japan until he was a teenager. I found him fascinating. The fact that he was queer added to his appeal, but I wasn’t ready to talk about it with a stranger, much less admit that my attraction to him exceeded his interesting life story.”

“You were still married too, right?”

“Right. It felt dishonest to even let my mind go there.”

“You’re a good man, Stewart.”

I shrug. “Is just honoring your wedding vows and not fucking your students that good?”

He laughs softly. “Fair, but there’s a lot of people out there who don’t.”

“I suppose.”

“If you had been one of my professors, I totally would’ve put the moves on you. Nineteen years old and all. I would’ve failed your class because I’d spend it imagining you bent over your desk with me eating your ass or sucking your dick while you delivered a lecture.”

My stomach flutters. “Damn.”

“I would have begged you to let me touch you. Kiss you.” He sets his mug down then takes mine from me and does the same. He spreads my knees apart with his hands, moving closer to me. “I wouldn’t have been able to concentrate. You would ask me to stay after class to talk to me about my grades, which would be all I wanted. Your undivided attention, all on me.”

“Kit.”

“You’d talk about assignments and theories and academic things that mattered deeply to you, and I’d be imagining your cock in my mouth.”

Heat spreads through me and my cock jumps with interest. “I thought we were talking.”

“Oh, we’re talking, gorgeous.” Kit runs his hands up and down my thighs. “But I’m glad I didn’t meet you when I was nineteen. You don’t deserve the kind of guy I was then.”

Searching his eyes, I let the words on my mind flow out. “Do I deserve the kind of man you are now?”

He smiles, nodding. “I think so, because what you deserve is feeling free to explore everything you are and everything you want to be, and I can help. I can give you that space to try it all.”

“Pretty amazing.”

Kit lifts my hand and kisses the back of it. “Tell me something else about you. Something that’s not about your work or your sexuality or your romantic past. Something you want me to know.”

His question causes a flutter of emotions in me, and I can feel my cheeks betraying me and revealing my embarrassment.

“Safe space,” Kit says. “Remember that.”

I nod, blowing out a breath. “When I accepted that my marriage was over and I would have to rewrite my future, I realized that my biggest fear is spending the rest of my life alone. My marriage was flawed but it was steady and reliable. I didn’t have a backup plan, and I still don’t. I know that probably sounds pathetic to a guy like you, but?—”

“No, Stewart. It doesn’t. I just flipped my life upside down, remember? What does that look like to you now? Marriage again?”

I hear the hesitation in his voice, like maybe he’s afraid of what I’ll say. Does he think I’m gonna turn into a clingy mess? I would rather chew off my foot than give Kit that impression of me.

“I don’t know,” I answer truthfully. “I’m trying to let life unfold the way it’s going to without worrying about it.”

“Good plan.” Kit plays with my fingers, holding my gaze. “Thank you for telling me all that.”

“Sure.”

“For the record, I still like you. I respect you too.”

“Thank you, Kit.”

He nods, lowering his head for a moment. When he looks up again, there’s a red flush across his neck and upper chest.

“Are you okay?”

Kit smiles. “Yeah. I want to tell you something I’ve never told anyone. Not even the guys. But…” He pauses, exhaling slowly as he shrugs. “It’s one of those things, you know? Those things people say that land and find a home inside you even though you want to evict them.”

“I do. You can tell me.”

“I know.” He laughs softly. “It’s wild, but I know I can tell you.” Kit brushes his fingers across my cheek then down my neck. “Vulnerability isn’t my best strength, and I’ve never aspired to it, but sometimes I get tired. You’re the first person in over a decade who reminds me that I’m human and flawed and sometimes…hurt.”

I nod, rubbing his thigh. “I’m here for you.”

Kit gazes into my eyes as he seems to resign himself to whatever it is he’s about to tell me.

“It’s not pretty, Stewart, but I want you to know. All I can do is hope you don’t run once you do.”