Take Me

Chapter Four: Bed

Leaning heavily against Kaz’s solid and capable body, Milo let the other man stir him toward the massive bed located against one wall of an equally massive room. As apartments went, the one they were in blew his mind. Granted it was a mind currently addled by copious amounts of alcohol, but he hadn’t reached blackout drunk status yet. Kaz cut him off too soon for that. Much to his annoyance.

“Where are we?” he slurred into Kaz’s face.

He didn’t grimace or pull away at all. “My place.”

A hiccup turned into a burp. "But why not my place?"

Kaz trudged onward. Milo’s legs dangled like useless spaghetti limbs, refusing to move the way he wanted them to. “I kept asking you the address and you kept saying you don’t remember.”

“Oh yeah.” A silly grin stretched across his face. “I have nesia.”

Kaz set him down on the bed. “You mean amnesia.”

“Yeah.” He hiccupped again. “I’m not drunk enough.”

“Oh, trust me, you’re drunk enough,” he said, nudging Milo to lie down.

He complied, stretching out on the side of the bed he was on. The sheets were soft and cool beneath his overheated skin and smelled of Kaz—all man. All good. He sighed in contentment before he murmured, “Why did we leave the bar again?”

A chuckle reached his ears before the words, “When you suggested spending the rest of the night at karaoke, I decided it was time to call it in. I may be Japanese, but I’m not that Japanese.”

“Karaoke,” Milo repeated, chuckling into a snort. “Funny word.”

“Hai, hai.”

He lay still as Kaz removed his shoes then his socks. He wiggled his toes in pleasure. Then Kaz moved on to his jacket, which required Milo to sit up slightly for it to come off. He groaned at being jostled, closing his eyes as the room spun slightly.

“Not good.” He rubbed his forehead.

“Are you going to be sick?”

He paused. Waited. When his stomach settled and no bile climbed his throat, he smiled.

“Nope. I’m good.” He licked his lips. “I may be a bad drunk, but I don’t puke.”

"Just in case, I'm leaving a bucket beside the bed.”

“Good to know.”

The edge of the mattress dipped, which forced Milo to open his eyes. Kaz gazed down at him. He crossed one leg over the other and used one hand to ease Milo’s tie off then popped open the first two buttons of his shirt.

Despite his state of drunkenness, or maybe because of it, he found the man undressing him incredibly sexy. He’d only been with one other man. It was in college before he’d met Celeste. An artist. It didn’t last. The guy was too moody for his taste. He considered it his experimental phase. Then he met Celeste and the rest was, as they said, history. But that night Milo wondered what it would be like to have those firm lips against his. How it would feel to be kissed by such a serious man. Yet how inappropriate would it be if he initiated anything? Kaz didn’t seem to mind when he sat next to him the entire night. He didn’t even move away or seemed uncomfortable. And from the way he looked at him, heat in those cool blue eyes, Milo could see something went on behind that stoic exterior. The question then became: was he brave enough to explore beyond the surface?

“What are you thinking?” Kaz asked softly.

It took Milo a second to realize he’d spoken in Japanese. Instead of replying, he reached up and ran the tip of his finger over the top edge of Kaz’s lips. Kaz took Milo’s hand and pressed a kiss against his palm. He might as well have taken Milo’s c**k in his mouth from the way his body reacted to that one point of contact.

“Are you sure?” he whispered against Milo’s palm, switching back to English.

“I’m drunk,” he said plainly. “I’m not sure of anything right now.”

Letting go of his hand, Kaz moved to stand. With speed someone drunk shouldn’t have possessed, Milo grabbed his tie and pulled him down. The unexpected maneuver brought Kaz’s lips to where Milo wanted them to be—against his. Kaz barely kept from crushing him by bracing his hands on either side of Milo’s body.

Taking advantage of the shock, Milo slipped his tongue between Kaz’s teeth. He tasted the burnt apple flavor of the scotch he favored all night and the clove of the cigarettes he smoked. A moan climbed up his throat at the heady combination.

The sound seemed to have woken Kaz from his shock because he pushed up. But just as Milo was about to apologize for reading the signals wrong, he said, “Are you sure about this?”

“No.” He shook his head. “But my life sucks at the moment.”

“And you think sleeping with me will solve that?”

Milo thought about it. “No, but it will make me feel good. Don’t you want to feel good? Even for just a night?”

A shudder went through Kaz. He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against Milo’s. “Yes. But not when it’s something you’ll clearly regret in the morning. When I take you it will be when you’re sober so you’ll feel every inch of me sliding in and out of you. That is a promise.”

Lightning bolt quick, Kaz got up and walked out of his bedroom, leaving Milo stunned and a little more than turned on.

***

Despite the lethargy that came with single-handedly conquering a bottle of tequila, Milo lay in bed—his bed—wider awake than when he’d been left alone. Kaz’s words swam around in his head. Over and over he replayed what he’d said and imagined the heat behind those eyes. A man, who was a complete stranger to him, promised that he would take him. That when he did he wanted Milo to be a hundred percent present for it. A blush spread across his face at the mere thought of letting that man have his way. It wasn’t often that he found himself this ready and willing.

His hand traveled down until his fingertips grazed the evident bulge behind the zipper of his pants. He groaned, needing some kind of release. It must have been hours since he had been left alone. For all he knew it could have been minutes. He had no concept of time in the semi-darkness of the bedroom. Where could Kaz be?

The instant the question came to mind, Milo pictured his face. The raven wing eyebrows, the firm lips, the chiseled jawline. His mouth watered. He hadn’t even seen what the guy looked like naked and there he was already lusting after him. He swallowed, bringing his hand to his lips. The taste of his mouth still lingered, and if he thought hard enough, he could still feel the kiss. He moved his other hand to his belt and unfastened it. He had to do something about his arousal or he wouldn’t get any sleep.

He unbuttoned his pants and slid the zipper down. The unclasping of metal teeth seemed the loudest sound in that too quiet room, but he didn’t care as he eased his fingers into the waistband of his boxer briefs. Moisture met his touch as he squeezed the head of his c**k. He ran his thumb over the slit, causing his hips to rise up off the mattress. To keep in the moan fighting to get out, he bit down on the knuckle of his forefinger. What would Kaz think if he walked in and found him fondling himself in his bed?

The thought of getting caught spurred him onward. Let him get caught. Maybe it would lead to more. In his mind he undressed Kaz slowly, imagining what that body would look like. Surely it would be toned. He seemed like the type to have great abs. Milo had seen his fair share from all the male model shoots he’d had to supervise on Cassandra’s behalf. If Kaz looked that good in a suit then he would definitely be hot out of it.

As the picture, he put together took shape, he closed his eyes and grasped the base of his erection and began rubbing up and down the shaft. He applied pressure as he reached the tip. His tongue flicked at the knuckle between his teeth. He conjured up the kiss again. The feel of those lips. The taste of him. He rubbed harder, faster.

“What are you doing?”

The question jerked him into a seated position. Hand still on himself he blinked to clear the phantom in his mind. The man standing before him in nothing but a towel around his waist, hair wet from a recent shower, and beads of moisture crawling down mouth-watering abs was even better than he’d imagined. All the blood that was already south of the border seemed to double, causing the kind of pain that forced him to wince.

“This is your fault,” Milo said between clenched teeth. “You can’t say you’ll take me and walk away from the consequences.”

Kaz studied him with that cool stare of his. The expression seemed like his default setting. At the moment, it annoyed the hell out of him because the man was unreadable.

When the silence grew too intense, Kaz narrowed his gaze and asked, “What do you want from me?”

Meaning to tease him, Milo swung his legs off the bed and spread them wide. “You’re mouth to suck me off.”

He expected a refusal. Kaz had been clear about his intentions earlier, so Milo all but gasped when without hesitation he came closer and knelt on the floor between his feet. He took the base of Milo’s d**k in one hand and ran the tip of his tongue over the slit before covering all of him in the heat of his mouth. In pleasure, Milo threw his head back. All the muscles in his body liquefied.

***

Milo woke up the next morning with the taste of something dead in his mouth. He rolled onto his side, his arm falling off the edge of the bed. The hangover came fast and furious, taking him for twelve rounds in the ring without allowing him to put his arms up to defend himself.

Gingerly, he rolled onto his back. A wave of nausea assailed him. He breathed through his mouth, long and deep. The cool air surrounding him helped immensely. Once he was sure he wasn’t going to puke, he opened his eyes. First one then the other to stare up at a ceiling not his own. The realization that he wasn’t lying on his own bed pushed him to sit. Where the hell was he and what the hell was he doing here?

He looked around to get his bearings but didn’t recognize anything in the room. Not the modern furnishings. Not the massive windows to his left where the gray curtains were drawn. Not the bank of mirrors to his right.

A stabbing pain began behind his eye. He pushed the heel of his hand against it. The only things he did recognize were his clothes hanging from a hook behind the closed door. His shoes were to the side, the ball of his socks in one.

If his clothes were on the other side of the room that meant . . .

He lifted the sheet covering him and signed in relief when he found himself still in his boxer briefs. Good. He didn’t get crazy enough to get naked. The only thing he remembered was spilling his guts out to Kaz at Santino and finding him incredibly—

To keep the word inside, he slapped a hand over his mouth.

No!

This couldn’t be.

The idea of doing anything other than drink with Kazuhiko Yukifumi, the business partner of one of the most important up and coming designers debuting in the pages of Rebel, turned his stomach. Cassandra would skewer his balls and cook them for dinner if she got wind of any inappropriate conduct between him and Kaz.

The fear for his life pushed down the hangover deep enough to allow Milo to get out of bed and dress. Once fully clothed, he opened the door and peeked his head out of the room. The vast living room and adjoining kitchen that mirrored the modern furnishings of the bedroom in tones of gray, white, and black looked empty. He breathed a sigh of relief and, as quietly as possible, made his way to the front door. From somewhere in the apartment he heard Kaz's voice. He was speaking to someone, but since Milo couldn't hear the second voice he assumed it was a phone conversation. Maybe he had an office? If that was so, he was occupied. Good.

Seeing his chance, he opened the door, slipped out, and made a run for it.