“We need to talk.”
“Like this?” he squeaked. I loved it when he did that.
I stepped closer. “Yes, like this. Without anything between us. I want the truth from you.”
“About what? I’ve been nothing but honest with you from the start! You’re the one who keeps all your shit buttoned up so tight.”
I moved even closer until my dick brushed against his, and then our thighs, stomachs, chests came together. Finally, I leaned in until our noses almost brushed against each other. “Besides what happened between us back in Connecticut, was that the first time you had sex with a man?”
Ellison’s face was already red from anger, so I couldn’t see whether or not he blushed, but his eyes blinked rapidly, and he didn’t seem to know where to look. “Yes.”
“Will it be your last?”
“What do you mean?”
I tried to ignore the wiry scratch of his leg hair, the hard, warm roll of his cock next to mine. “After all these years, did you finally satisfy your curiosity? Prove to yourself you’re not gay after all?”
“I’m not gay,” he said defiantly. I shook my head and stepped back, but Ells grabbed my arms to keep me from leaving his personal space. “I’m bi. And to answer your question, no. It didn’t come anywhere near satisfying my curiosity.”
I searched his face. “You need more?” I asked with a laugh.
His eyes stayed riveted on mine. “Much, much more.” His voice was soft but sure. Like an invitation. Like temptation itself.
I considered it. And for a few moments, I almost, almost, took him up on it. The lure of pressing into his tight heat while the shower spray pounded down on us was irresistible, but it was also a path of no return. If I dared to slip inside Ellison’s body physically, I would never be able to pull back from him mentally. There was no way I could give Ellison York that kind of power over me ever again.
I leaned in close until my lips brushed against his jaw to land against his ear. “Too bad,” I whispered before reaching behind him for the soap and stepping away to wash my body with forced calm.
He stared at me wide-eyed. I tried not to see the hurt in his eyes or the anger in his tense muscles. I told myself it wasn’t any more than he deserved. I was not here to fulfill Ellison York’s needs.
We were at this party for a reason, and that reason had nothing to do with his dick or mine. After washing, I rinsed and stepped out of the shower. Lunch was going to be served any minute.
And I had a real estate deal to close.
I forced myself to calm down when I stepped out onto the patio for lunch. Colorful flowers tumbled out of planters, and the sound of clinking silver and glassware accompanied the clusters of conversation at several large round tables set under shade umbrellas. In the distance, white triangle-shaped sails dotted the deep blue of the ocean. It wouldn’t be long before the colder weather would blow in and slow down even the most weather-hardened sailors.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Binnie asked, approaching me with a drink in each hand. I’d wandered to the edge of the patio to wait for Ellison to arrive in case he wasn’t too mad to sit with me. “I can’t get enough of this view. Here, I brought you a fruity cocktail. Give it a try. It might relax you a little.”
“I’m plenty relaxed,” I said stiffly.
She laughed softly. “Sure you are. Drink it.”
I took a sip of the fruity drink. “Mm. Thank you. That’s really good.”
“Bahama Mama. Can’t beat a classic.”
I almost snorted the drink when I laughed. Binnie began laughing at me, too, and then chastised me for being a snob.
“What makes you think I’m a snob?” I asked with a grin.
“When you thought you were drinking something exotic and fancy like a… a Pixie Moonblossom.”
I took another sip and smacked my lips as if assessing it. “Nah, too hippie. I thought maybe it was more of a… Persnickity High-Hat. You know, on account of the citrus.”
She laughed even more and waved Cate and two other young women over to join us. “Girls, come here. You have to ask Joe to make you one of these drinks. You simply must try it.”
I looked down at the ground to keep from laughing.
“Ask him to make you a Persnickity High-Hat with extra…”
“Zazzle,” I said under a cough.
She nodded solemnly. “Yes. That’s it. Ask for extra zazzle. Or else it just tastes like something from a cruise ship.”
As soon as they walked away, the two of us started snickering again. “God forbid you drink something they might serve on a cruise ship,” I said, clutching the front of my throat.
“Hey, don’t knock cruise ships, young man. I came this close to putting in a soft-serve frozen yogurt machine by the pool out here.”
Tears streamed out of my eyes as I remembered my mom raving about the free soft-serve on her cruise to Mexico one time. Binnie’s hand clutched my arm as we tried to catch our breath.
“I like you,” she said after we stared out at the sailboats a little longer. I turned to return the compliment when I realized she wasn’t finished. “But if you hurt my sweet Ellie, I will tear your fucking heart out.”
She turned and wandered back toward the tables, offering a cheerful hello here and there as she passed her friends. I stared at her in shock until I noticed Ellison walking down the steps from the house. He was showered and dressed in a pair of light gray shorts with a pink golf shirt. His hair was still damp from the shower, and it made me feel a strange kind of intimacy to remember I’d been with him in that shower.
When he noticed me, his eyes turned thunderous for a split second before he saw someone he recognized. Then it was all cheery smiles and polite chatter as he made his way to an empty spot at a table. The table with Cate and all of her attractive lady friends, including Jake’s sister.
I hated this feeling. Like I’d let someone important down. I hadn’t. He was the one who’d…
I stopped short.
Done what? Had an honest curiosity about what it was like to be with a man? Waited fifteen damned years for another chance to try it? Why? He could have had a million anonymous hookups with men by now in the city.
Why me? Why now?
I watched him join the women. They all flirted with him, even the two women who’d brought a husband or boyfriend. He was charming and sweet, attentive and sexy. Of course they flirted with him. Why wouldn’t they want him? Why wouldn’t everyone want him? He was the most attractive, engaging, intelligent man out here.
“You’re Grey Blackwood,” a man said, approaching me from a nearby cluster of people. He looked to be in his early forties with a little bit of gray mixed in with his short, dark hair. The laugh lines next to his eyes put me at ease right away. “Binnie pointed you out. I’m Adrian Mahoney.”
The name rang a bell. I reached out to shake his hand. “The architect?” I asked in surprise.
He nodded and smiled. “Ian mentioned you were working on a commercial real estate project, so I thought I’d introduce myself and ask if you needed any help or had any questions. I designed the Ventura building in Chelsea.”
“I’m familiar with it. You also did the Lockett project in Midtown. It’s incredible. John Sloane speaks very highly of you.” One of the companies I’d invested in had gotten the interior design contract on the project. Being awarded such a large contract had helped the company’s burgeoning reputation skyrocket.