Page 6 of Mr. Naughty List
Never mind that RJ was sexy as hell and that Aaron’s entire body had twitched alive with shocking arousal as soon as he’d kicked that chair out from the patio table like he was the boss and Aaron his obedient servant. Never mind that Aaron’s nipples were still singing in anticipation of a good tweaking, and his balls hummed in hope, as if they sensed an imminent orgasm on the horizon.
He wiped at his forehead again and tried to get a grip on himself.
The best thing he could do was to talk with RJ. Get to know him a little for the undoubtedly boring, stupid, or flat-out weird guy he probably was, and this unreasonable attraction would drop away effortlessly. RJ was a young musician. He’d barely gotten a C in Aaron’s class. He probably had nothing of interest to say.
There was no reason to expect he’d be any different from any other man Aaron had ever made the mistake of talking with. A conversation was always the best way to kill his lust. Which was one reason he preferred hookups with guys he had nothing in common with. No expectations aside from sex meant he was rarely let down.
Aaron grabbed the beer from the bar and headed out to the patio, letting the chilled drinks against his palms do the job of cooling him down. He and RJ were just going to talk. Nothing more. Nothing less.
“Keep it all superficial. He’ll ruin it. No problem. Everything will be just fine,” Aaron whispered to himself as he pushed the door to the patio open and plastered on a smile. His stomach dropped as he stepped out the door.
Fuck.
RJ was just as hot as he’d been when he’d left him.
The door swungopen and Mr. Danvers stepped back out, a beer in one hand and some sort of whiskey drink in the other. His cheeks were flushed and fresh sweat glistened on his forehead and narrow nose.
RJ’s heart raced, and his palms went damp.
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Right. So, getting into Mr. Danvers’s pants was going to be no different than learning a hard song on the guitar: cut it into achievable sections, take it piece by piece, and then let it flow.
RJ smiled as he took the replacement beer from Mr. Danvers’s hand. Cool relief rode him like the night’s breeze as Mr. Danvers sat down across from him. Dimples broke out again and, to RJ’s amazement, they were somehow prettier than the last time Mr. Danvers had flashed them.
“Cheers,” RJ said, and put his beer out for Mr. Danvers to tap his whiskey glass against.
After they’d both taken a drink, RJ kicked his feet out. “So,” he said with a smirk. “You didn’t like my emo, goth-kid look, huh?” Cold wind stung RJ’s eyes, and Mr. Danvers pulled his sports coat tighter around his body.
“No, I can’t say that I did. But kids.” Mr. Danvers shrugged and smiled fondly. “They’re still trying to figure themselves out. It’s not easy work, is it? Sometimes they take a few ill-advised detours along the way to their real selves.” He shrugged again and took another swallow of whiskey, his cheeks and chin pinking up even more from either the cold, or the alcohol, or both.
“Yeah, well, I gotta admit, eyeliner and greasy hair weren’t my best looks,” RJ conceded. He indicated his current casual punk style and ran a hand over his tightly shorn head again. “I prefer what I’ve got going on now.”
When he was younger, he’d thought guys who dressed like him were scary, neo-Nazi skinheads, but now he just knew it was easier to keep his hair short than to deal with the risk of lice from all the dubious lodgings he stayed in while traveling the world with the less-than-famous bands.
“I have to agree,” Mr. Danvers said, sounding a bit breathless. Then he swallowed a healthy gulp of his drink. Out of nowhere, he started chuckling. It was a sweet, effervescent sound that made RJ tingle all over. And Mr. Danvers didn’t stop. It went on long enough that Mr. Danvers had to wipe at his eyes with his fingertips.
That made RJ bristle a bit, despite the tingle. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Rude, Mr. Danvers.” He put on his dominant voice. The one his kinky German friend, Pieter, had taught him how to use during their D/s training sessions in Berlin. Leaning forward and making eye contact, he demanded, “Tell me.”
Mr. Danvers caved like a sweet baby sub, and RJ swallowed hard, making note of that.Damn, Mr. Danvers. Damn.
“All right.” Mr. Danvers leaned forward, stage whispering. “Truth is, I was afraid of you back then. When you were in my class, I mean. You were always sointense. Stared at me like you wanted to hit me or something, and, well, I…” He trailed off, chuckling again. “How ridiculous is that? So ridiculous.”
“Why would I want to hit you?” RJ didn’t understand how Mr. Danvers could have interpreted his lustful gaze, inspired by watching that fantastic ass shake every time Mr. Danvers wrote on the smart board, as violent.
“It doesn’t matter. Never mind.” Mr. Danvers bit his lower lip, and his eyes dropped to RJ’s mouth again. “You’re more approachable now. I like it.”
Yes.That was a response he’d take with no complaint.
After another sip of beer, RJ untangled his tongue and offered, “I had a lot of shit going on back then.”
“Yeah. I think that’s called high school.” Mr. Danvers closed his eyes and shook his head. “Who didn’t have a lot of shit going on at that age? I wouldn’t go back to it for the world.”
“What do you mean? You go back there every day.”
Mr. Danvers arched one fine brow. Hehadto shape them. They were just too perfect. RJ kind of wanted to lick them. “Believe me. Going to school as a teacher is a very different thing.”