thebistro by Sean Michael Read Free Book Online Page B

“And I feel it’s important to feed yourself with the best.”
    “Indeed.” Richard found himself staring at the way the light hair on Stephen’s face framed his mouth. He couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel to kiss those bearded lips.
    “Are we done making small talk or should I ask if you’re still a designer and whether you’ve been in town long before I invite you upstairs to my apartment?”
    Sure, definite and laid right out on the table.
    Richard’s cock went from interested to wanting just like that. “Yes, I am, two years and I’d love to.”
    “Excellent. Now?” Stephen stood and held out his hand, no nerves, nothing but straightforward interest. The boy had grown up. Richard couldn’t wait to see how the lover had changed. He stood, making no effort to hide his obvious erection, and took Stephen’s hand.
    Stephen led him toward the back of the restaurant and then through a door and up a long, incredibly narrow stairwell. Stephen stopped to unlock the door, him a few steps back, that sweet ass framed beautifully.
    Some things hadn’t changed.
    Leaning forward Richard slid his hand along one sweet cheek. The muscles beneath his hand rippled and then Stephen pushed back toward him. “Your hands always were the warmest I’d ever felt.”
    The door opened and Stephen moved forward, drawing him into a jewel-toned apartment filled with tiny rooms, all laid out one after another. “We’re going to bed, yes? My couch is lumpy and my sheets are clean.” Green eyes looked back at him. “I don’t see any reason for us to play the games, Richard. I want you. You want me. Simple as that. Yes?”
    He raised an eyebrow. And some things had changed a lot.
    “No games, Stephen. Take me to your bed.”
    Stephen nodded and took his hand, leading him through a fascinating and so Stephen home -- clean, open, sparse -- to the room that was dominated by a big bed. His hand was brought to Stephen’s lips, the action well known, so familiar. “I am glad to see you, Richard.”
    He slid his hand along Stephen’s cheek, the beard tickling his palm. He brought their faces together. “Me, too,” he said softly as his lips closed over Stephen’s.
    Stephen smiled and then those soft lips opened and the flavors of coffee and chocolate and crème and Stephen filled his mouth, slid into him like that quick, hot tongue that met his hunger equally.
    He slid his hands around Stephen’s back, pulling him close, letting Stephen feel his need. Stephen made a soft noise, arms reaching up to circle his neck. Stiff heat pressed against his thigh, solid and needy. Moving his hands, he stroked the length of Stephen’s back until he was cupping that fine ass, pulling Stephen tighter against him, rubbing their bodies together.
    He sure hoped Stephen wasn’t going to send him on his way after just one go, because he wasn’t going to last very long this time out. One slim leg wrapped around him, Stephen stretched out against his body, mouth fierce and focused as they kissed.
    All the old feelings came flooding back, hitting him hard -- he’d loved Stephen, maybe not the fairy tale all-encompassing love that Stephen had been looking for, but he’d loved Stephen more and harder than anyone before or since.
    He felt like a teenager, some kid who barely knew how to rub himself, coming so quick and hard, ruining his sixty dollar silk boxers just like that.
    Stephen moaned against his lips, fingers tangling in his hair. “God, you... so good, Rich. Still feels so good.”
    He chuckled, somewhat embarrassed. “I’m not usually so quick off the mark,” he murmured, sliding his hands up beneath Stephen’s shirt to stroke the warm skin.
    “Mm... The chocolate counts as hours of foreplay.” Stephen’s voice was warm, playful, green eyes narrowing as he ran his fingers along the bumps of vertebrae, the hints of ribs. “Warm...”
    His laughter was more relaxed now, and it made him a little breathless, how Stephen was the