Take Me

Chapter Thirteen: Breakfast

The tantalizing scent of freshly brewed coffee woke Milo slowly. He lay on his stomach, a pillow hugged against him, as he took tentative sniffs of the air. The sound of something frying coaxed him further from sleep. He stretched.

Muscles he hadn't used in awhile twitched, but it was a good kind of ache. The kind that brought a smile to his face. Feelings of satisfaction and relaxation that could only come from a bone-jarring orgasm washed over him as he pushed up to sit cross-legged on the bed. The sheets pooled around his lap as he rubbed the rest of the dream haze from his tired eyes.

He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. The strands stuck out in several places. He had passed out again. He had never come that hard before, but good luck getting him to admit that Kaz had anything to do with it. They didn’t even go all the way. Would he survive it if they did? He flattened his palm against his racing heart. The anticipation alone might kill him. Yet he knew he was willing. Nothing would keep him from wanting Kaz inside him. It was fate. It was inevitable. No use denying it.

How he felt for the man, on the other hand, was an entirely different story. He still wasn’t sure. He didn’t know him well enough. But he had heard of stories about strangers falling in love at first sight. Was this something like that? He slapped his cheeks. Good God he hoped not. It would be way too cheesy if that was the case. And—the thought gave him pause—no matter what he may feel, it didn’t mean Kaz felt the same.

The night before was proof that he was attracted to him physically, but s*x does not a relationship make. Milo didn’t want that. If he was in it, he wanted to be in it all the way.

“Are you going to stay in bed all day?” Kaz asked from somewhere outside.

No use hiding. He suspected if he didn’t move Kaz would come in and get him. To save himself from being treated like a spoiled child, he inched out of bed. The goose bumps rising on his skin from the room’s temperature forced him to look down. Of course, he was naked. He shook his head and searched for clothes.

His eyes landed on the dresser. On top was a folded shirt and boxers. Nothing else. Signing in defeat, Milo pulled on the boxers which were a size too big and shrugged on the shirt that reached all the way to his thighs, almost covering the boxers completely. Out of sheer curiosity, he lifted the collar and sniffed. Traces of Kaz’s spicy musk lingered on the fabric. He committed the scent to memory for nights when he was alone.

“Where are my—” he began to ask as he left the bedroom on his way to the kitchen when he spotted Kaz, shirt-sleeves rolled up to his elbows, tie thrown over one shoulder, standing by the stove.

His mouth watered for two different reasons. First, because Kaz looked hot and in control while cooking. Second, because of what he was cooking.

Milo swallowed and said, “You’re making me tamagoyaki?”

His insides melted as Kaz expertly rolled the egg omelet in the traditional Japanese rectangular pan using wooden chopsticks.

“There’s also natto, nori, broiled aji—”

“Steamed rice, miso soup, and tsukemono,” he finished in awe. “You made me a Japanese breakfast?”

He scanned the dining table where bowls of rice sat among bowls of soup and plates of dried horse mackerel and an assortment of pickled vegetables including his favorite pickled ume plums or commonly known as umeboshi.

His heart swelled to five times its size. He was afraid it would burst out of his chest from joy. Unexpectedly, what did burst out of him were tears. They welled up fast and ran down his face to drip off his chin.

Kaz pursed his lips. “If you’re going to cry, you might as well do it while eating. You need to get rid of the last traces of the aphrodisiac you took last night.” He pointed at the table while he prepared the tamagoyaki for slicing on a cutting board.

Sniffing and wiping his watery eyes with the back of his hand, Milo approached the perfectly made table. He hadn’t seen a breakfast like it since Tokyo. It brought back painful memories but the fact that Kaz was the one who prepared this meal for him blunted the pain significantly. He wasn’t usually so emotional. Maybe it was a side effect of the aphrodisiac.

But he couldn’t deny that Kaz preparing him breakfast was the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for him in a long time. A fresh wave of emotion came as he pulled out a chair and sat down. He picked up the chopsticks and murmured “itadakimasu” which was the traditional phrase said before eating. Then he reached for the bowl of rice and seasoned it with soy sauce then topped it with the fermented soy beans. But before he could take his first bite, a yellow rectangle of rolled egg was placed on top of the natto. He looked up to see a concerned expression on the handsome businessman’s face. His dark eyebrows were together and a prominent frown marred his good looks. More tears came.

Kaz rolled his perfect blue eyes and sighed. “Stop crying or . . .”

Then, as if making his mind, he took a seat and pulled Milo onto his lap.

Milo yelped in surprise, almost spilling his bowl of rice and natto, but he didn’t protest. The second he was enveloped by Kaz’s scent, he settled immediately, resting the side of his head against the other man’s strong shoulder. Kaz took the bowl and chopsticks from his hands. He used the chopsticks to pick up the tamagoyaki. Milo obliged by parting his lips, taking the yellow brick of goodness into his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully, finding it fluffy and sweet just the way he liked it.

“Naki yame kudasai,” he murmured against the top of Milo’s head.

The request for him to stop crying in Japanese sounded so much sweeter, which only caused more of the waterworks.

“I can’t,” he said between hics and sniffs. “This . . . no one has ever done something like this for me.”

Using his fingers, Kaz tilted Milo’s chin up and placed a kiss on his lips. When Milo moved to deepen the kiss, Kaz pulled back. It wasn’t that kind of contact. A part of Milo knew it, so he didn’t protest even if he wanted to take things further.

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you,” Kaz whispered against his mouth.

Milo’s heart jumped. “But you keep disappearing.”

Kaz shook his head, amusement in his gaze. “I’m always right here.”

“But I want more than just the occasional encounter. I don’t even have your number.”

This time, Kaz laughed. The sound reverberated from his chest. It was so masculine and reached into places Milo thought had been dead since Celeste had dumped him without mercy. It comforted him immensely, drying the tears he couldn’t seem to control since they started falling.

When Kaz regained his composure, he said, “If you scroll through your contacts you’ll find my number there.”

“What?” His eyes widened. “How?”

“The first night you spent here. I programmed my number into your phone. Are you honestly telling me you haven’t checked? Between you passing out every time I make you come and this, I have to say I’m crushed. I don’t think my ego can recover.”

Milo smacked Kaz’s chest at the mock devastation the man wore. He wasn’t sure if he blushed because Kaz was making fun of him or because he hadn’t thought to check his phone. He was a call away this whole time?

“But how should I know!” he protested. “It’s not like I scroll my contacts hoping your number would magically be there. And why haven’t you called me?”

That was when the seriousness returned.

“Because I was afraid that if I did you and I wouldn’t get any work done.” He rested his forehead against Milo’s. “You do things to me, Milo. I’m usually proud of my control over my emotions, but when I’m with you I unravel. Last night . . .”

“You seemed in complete control to me.” Milo touched his cheek, loving how smooth and clean-shaven it felt beneath his fingertips.

“If you only knew,” Kaz whispered as if he didn’t want anyone knowing about his secret weaknesses. “If I could keep you by my side all the time, I would. But I don’t want you resenting me or pushing me away. So I give you space. Whenever I feel like I can’t take it anymore, I come to you.”

Milo gasped as the truth of his words hit home. “Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week, the House of Suzuki and Hugo Boss shows.”

Kaz nodded, rubbing their foreheads together. “Then last night you came here all hot and bothered. When you told me about the party, it was all I could do not to leave and murder that son of a b***h you call a best friend.”

“It wasn’t his fault. I agreed to go to the party.” He shrugged. “Granted I didn’t know it was a s*x party when I got there.”

A low growl emanated from Kaz. Milo moved his hand from the man’s cheek to the back of his neck, squeezing away the mounting tension there. When he seemed to relax again, Milo continued.

“To be honest, I can’t say I regret last night. Sure, being drugged sucked. But having you touch me.” He pulled back so he could look into Kaz’s eyes. “You make me feel things I haven’t felt for anyone before, Kazuhiko.”

Desire sparked within those blue depths. The tip of Milo's tongue darted across his lower lip, which Kaz followed with his gaze. This time, when Kaz bent down and crushed their mouths together, he explored with wanton abandon. A moan came out of Milo without hesitation. He tasted the coffee Kaz had been drinking. The bitterness mixed with the sweetness of his tongue, which sent sensations straight to his groin. Was this it? Was this the moment when he would get what he wanted most from Kaz?

But, like the man had read the turn his thoughts took, Kaz broke the contact, resting his forehead against Milo’s. Their breaths mingled, both clearly affected by that one kiss. Milo squirmed, feeling the bulge pressing against his hip.

“We can’t,” Kaz said, but his tone rang false.

“And why not?” Milo cupped Kaz’s face with both hands.

“You have work. I have an important meeting. And this is not how I planned it.”

The sincerity he tried to add to his husky tone made Milo chuckle. “Well, if that’s the case, then you could, at least, let me return the favor." Without waiting for a response, Milo dropped to the floor and unzipped Kaz’s pants. When Milo released his c**k from behind the boxers keeping it prisoner, he gasped. “You’re big.”

“Milo,” Kaz warned, glaring down at him.

He gave the man a winning smile before he put all his attention on the most important part of him at that moment. He purred, bypassing the throbbing c**k on his descent and cupped Kaz’s balls. He weighed them in his hand. Kaz sagged against the chair and groaned, his pupils dilating. Milo licked his bottom lip in appreciation. Gone was the glaring guy, replaced by a desire-fueled man who so graciously cooked him breakfast. He certainly had to be thanked.

Closing his fingers around the base, Milo laved at the tip—first forward and back then around. Then he brought the head into his mouth, letting it graze the inside of his cheek as he did so.

“Ah, f**k!” Kaz pushed his fingers through Milo’s hair.

Hollowing his cheeks, Milo sucked. Kaz grunted through gritted teeth. From the way he kept his ass plastered against the chair, he was trying really hard not to shove into Milo. He glanced up and the heat in Kaz’s eyes fueled him to lick his c**k from end to end as he pulled up. Kaz jerked when Milo nipped at one of the veins running along the sensitive underside.

“Jesus,” Kaz breathed harshly.

Milo kissed his pulsing member before rubbing it against his cheek. “But I’m not nearly done with you.”

That was when Milo took all of him in until he felt Kaz at the back of his throat, over and over again. Oh, the sounds that came from Kaz then. Enough to drive anyone wild. Bobbing his head up and down, making sure to swirl his tongue around him, Milo used his teeth to add to the sensation. Kaz let go of Milo’s hair in favor of palming the back of his head while his other hand caressed his cheek and jaw.

“That’s it,” he says, thrusting into Milo’s mouth. “Use that delicious tongue of yours.”

Encouraged, Milo scraped his fingernails down muscular thighs. Kaz gasped in pleasure, bucking his hips in response. Smirking, Milo sucked the entire length of him.

“Fu--uck!”

Kaz’s muscles grew taut. The heat of his release filled Milo’s mouth. His throat reflexively swallowed in his hunger. He gave the softening member one last suck before releasing it. Then he sat back on his heels and licked at the corner of his lips, smiling up at Kaz who was staring at him.

“Gochiso sama,” Milo said—the typical response after a meal.