Crossing Borders by Z. A. Maxfield Read Free Book Online Page B

shake and want things he was afraid to ask for. “Not everyone.”
     
    “There's something I want to ask you.” Michael kept his voice carefully neutral. “Am I even remotely someone you could see yourself with? Dating, I mean? Not just a trick from Borders because you were curious, but someone real to be with. I don't mind being, you know, just the guy you caught on your very first fishing expedition.”
     
    “Oh, no!” said Tristan. “That feels, like, a million dumb ideas ago.” He stroked Michael's hair thoughtfully, glad his back was turned so he didn't have to have look him in the eyes. He didn't even stop to wonder why that seemed so much more intimate than bathing with the man. “I think you may have saved me from, at best, an embarrassing afternoon.”
     
    “I'm glad you think so,” said Michael, who seemed to be waiting for an answer to his question.
     
    “I didn't expect to find someone I liked,” Tristan began. “I just wanted to know how it felt to be with a man. Maybe figure out, you know, how to do it. Anonymously, sort of, so I wouldn't have to look like a total asshole to that same guy twice. That's really dumb, isn't it?”
     
    “No, but it wasn't really safe or well thought-out,” said Michael. “Would you want to hear your sister say that?”
     
    “I'm a man, Michael. Stop comparing me to a girl.”
     
    Michael splashed him a little. “You're young, Sparky, and slim and delicate in your coloring. Sure, you shave, but not much, not like I do. You still have baby hands,” he said, holding one up, the pruny fingers white and soft and freckled. “Look, no veins.” Michael held his own up by comparison. The veins were prominent, the multiple scars he'd gotten from woodworking and construction like a tracery of white lines against the tan background. “All I'm saying is that when a guy like me looks at you, as innocent as you are, as genuine, as naive, he feels protective. Someone else may choose to exploit you.”
     
    “I see.”
     
    “I can do anonymous, Sparky, I can show you what you want to know,” he whispered.
     
    Tristan froze. “You don't know what you're getting into. I think I may have a really long, slow learning curve.” Tristan couldn't look at him.
     
    “Mmmhmm, that's what I thought,” said Michael.
     
    “Um, you'd probably better, you know, plan on spending some time with me. It could be months before I get it right.”
     
    “Maybe more.”
     
    Tristan could feel the easing of tension in Michael's body and hoped it was because he'd gotten the answer right. “So, if you don't want to invest that kind of time with me, then maybe that's something you ought to say right up front,” said Tristan. “Because I can do, like, anonymous, but it wouldn't be my first choice. Anymore.”
     
    “Sparky?” said Michael, turning him and kissing him so deeply that Tristan started seeing spots in his field of vision. “Anonymous isn't even on the menu anymore, okay?”
     
    “Oh, okay.” Tristan was relieved and frightened all at once. “So, then, what is on the menu?”
     
    “You, my redhead, are going to”—he whispered a word into Tristan's ear that made the blood drain from Tristan's face, then return with a rush of heat that singed his eyebrows—“me through the mattress.” As if to illustrate his point, he slid Tristan's naked body over his own, rubbing their cocks together briefly, aided by the silky bath oil he'd added to the water. “Feels good. You're gonna make me fly, right, Sparky?”
     
    “Oh, I…yeah…I hope so.” Tristan bit his lip. Michael looked happy, so that was good…right?

Chapter Six
     
     
     
     
    Okay…okay, get a grip. I've done this before , Tristan thought as he dried himself off with one of Michael's awesome, luxurious bath towels. He wasn't exactly stalling for time, but he wasn't hurrying, either. He'd asked for this, schemed for it, planned for it, and gotten it, but in reality, it wouldn't be as easy as he