Drawn Together by Z. A. Maxfield Read Free Book Online

said anything. When they got off the elevator, Rory used his room key to open the door and crossed the room to the window.
    “Damn,” he said. “It doesn’t open. I hoped there was a balcony.” A little unsteady on his feet, he turned around and plopped down in the corner where he’d napped that afternoon. “I wanted to sleep on a balcony and watch the sun rise.”
    “You’d have a bit of a wait. Where you’re looking it doesn’t rise; it sets,” Yamane informed him. “Surely you’d rather sleep in the bed.” He took off his coat. “There are two.
    Safety in numbers.”
    “I’m fine,” mumbled Rory. He stuffed his messenger bag under his head.
    28 Z. A. Maxfield
    “At least take a pillow.” Yamane pulled a couple of pillows off the bed and took them to Rory. Getting their drinks, he sat down cross-legged near Rory’s head with his back against the wall. “I brought your drink, if you want it.” He handed it over.
    Rory sat up a little. “Nice. Thank you. It’s been rather a long day.”
    “Yes, it has. Pee-wee’s big adventure.”
    “Do you mind dimming the lights a little?”
    “I don’t mind.” Yamane got up to turn off all but the light in the bathroom. “That okay?”
    “Thank you.” Rory was drifting. Yamane sat back down next to him. Rory could hear the ice rattle in his glass as he sipped his drink.
    Rory briefly opened his eyes and found Yamane looking at him curiously. “What are you looking at?”
    “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” Yamane lightly brushed a ribbon of hair back from Rory’s face. “I have no idea at all.”
    Drawn Together
    29
    Chapter Five
    Rory was the first to open his eyes as a hazy morning light found its way through the window. It illuminated Yamane, who was lying with his head pillowed on Rory’s stomach.
    Rory tried to assess his feelings about the unusual sleeping arrangement, but his mouth was dry and his head fuzzy. He shifted slightly, causing the sleeping Yamane to move with him.
    Yamane’s hair swept over Rory’s skin. Due to an embarrassing case of morning wood, Rory kept his body as still as possible.
    In spite of waking up with a man using him as a pillow, he was disinclined to move. It gave him the opportunity to look closely at Yamane. The contours of his face were an amazing blend of his Caucasian and Japanese heritage. The two mixed like sugar and cream on his skin, producing a faintly olive, satiny-smooth complexion with the lightest hint of freckling across the bridge of his nose. The shape of his face, his cheekbones, and jaw, were definitely Western, while his dark eyes had the almond shape of his Japanese forebears. He had eyebrows that went up like wings and a full, wide mouth with a lower lip that was larger than the perfectly bow-shaped upper one. He was an amazing combination of extremely feminine features that produced a rare masculine beauty. Bishonen in the truest sense of the word.
    What is wrong with me? Why am I not halfway home right now with that sketchbook in my backpack? Crap, crap, crap.
    Rory reached out a hand and carefully slid the elastic off Yamane’s hair, freeing it from its braid. He casually combed his fingers through the long strands, finding it surprisingly silky and finer than he thought it would be. He was rubbing it gently between his thumb and forefinger when he looked up to find Yamane’s eyes open, watching him.
    Yamane’s eyes fluttered closed. “Oh, bother.” 30 Z. A. Maxfield
    Rory wound the silken strands around his fist, pulling Yamane’s head toward him.
    Yamane opened his eyes again as Rory literally reeled him into an embrace. Rory placed his hands on either side of Yamane’s face, still holding his hair. He brought Yamane so close their lips were only inches apart, but he remained frozen, unable to complete the kiss and unwilling to let Yamane go.
    Alarm flickered in Yamane’s eyes and he broke Rory’s hold on him, scrambling out of his embrace and rising unsteadily to his