Fall Apart Page 11

  “Damn, this thing could probably do my taxes,” he observed. He used it to look around the parking lot and then twisted back around until it was focused on Alarik. “Do I need to do anything special with it, or do I just push the button?”

  Alarik jumped to protest that he absolutely didn’t want his picture taken when Damon snapped the shot.

  “Oh God,” Alarik groaned. “That’ll be lovely, I’m sure. I’ll look like a scarecrow.”

  Damon pulled back, laughing. “Nah. Send me a copy of that.”

  “Highly unlikely.”

  “Consider it a part of your payback,” Damon shrugged.

  “Payback? Are you serious?” Alarik retrieved his camera and huffed in disbelief. “These shoes are payback and so is this secret morning that you’ve planned for us. For a copy of that picture, I deserve to squeeze your ass or get a kiss with tongue at least.” He shook his head and went back to the car to grab his bag. “Payback,” he mocked “Nonsense.”

  When he turned back around, Damon was directly in front of him and without a word, he pulled Alarik into his arms and lowered his head. His lips parted and the heat as his tongue licked over Alarik’s bottom lip brought an automatic and animalistic response. Damon pushed him roughly against the side of the car, pinning him, and his mouth went to work. His tongue was soft and demanding, his lips masculine and powerful.

  Alarik couldn’t keep a grip on himself as he practically climbed Damon, clinging and fighting for a hold with all that sweatshirt between them. He pulled back just enough to curse and suck in a breath, and then Damon’s mouth was on his again. Alarik felt a hand at the small of his back and another in his hair, restraining him, and he was well aware of his growing erection. Up with the Union Jack!

  He was bloody quivering.

  Damon made one final attack with his tongue, delving in deeply and tightening his hold on Alarik’s hair, before retreating with a sweet nip to his bottom lip. As quickly as the kiss began, it was over, and Damon backed away, swiping a hand over his mouth.

  Alarik caught himself on the side mirror and barely avoided ripping the thing off. His breath came fast and uneven, and as he raised his eyes to Damon’s, his usual composure was shattered. He was weak and twitchy while his auburn-haired devil was impenetrable.

  “I want that picture,” Damon said, a little breathless himself. “That makes us even.”

  Alarik sucked in another breath. “It’s yours, Damon…”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “Up there?” Alarik asked for the third time and Damon turned away to hide his smile. “Seriously? All the way?” Lifting his hands like he was at a loss, Alarik paced away and back again. “To the top?”

  Damon looked in the direction Alarik was squinting and forced himself not to snicker, or use this as an opportunity to mock the man he’d already managed to unhinge from his usual tranquility once this morning. That had been as much a surprise to him as it was to Alarik. God damn, that kiss. It was a bigger and better step than yesterday. An idea that could escalate into an explosive life form all its own.

  Damon had been powerful. It was his arms that became vices, holding Alarik up off the ground and hard against him. He’d felt his own muscles surge—his shoulders and abdominals thickening as blood rushed through his body. Damon heard Alarik’s groan; he heard his curse. He’d owned Alarik in that split second of total awareness, like he had the capacity to crush him but would never do so.

  Would everything be so different with him? How did this man take over his mind this way?

  “I’ll be focused on you the whole way,” he said roughly. “I’ve done this climb probably twenty times and it’s a good one for beginners. We’ll go over the signals and I’ll talk you through every step if you want.”

  Alarik scoffed at that and then glanced down at his shoes as though he was contemplating running. Damon hesitated, and then abruptly moved behind Alarik, curving his hand soothingly around the other man’s nape “I’m not going to let you fall.” His fingers rubbed gently up and down and he felt Alarik swallow beneath the pad of his thumb. “The view from the top is worth it, I promise. You can even take your camera.”

  Alarik swung around, latching on to Damon’s wrist. “So it’s come to that, has it? Using my weaknesses against me?” His tone was casual again, the anxiety hidden. He was so damn good at being smooth and mysterious. The whiskey of men—two fingers, neat, room temperature. “We made a deal for that picture you wanted. If I climb up this godforsaken cliff face, then you owe me a picture at the top.”

  Crap. “A picture?” He mulled it over and countered, “Nothing scandalous?”

  “Mr. Wright,” Alarik stepped into the half-circle created by Damon’s arm. “If I make it to the top alive, you’ll have no say in the matter.”

  Damon dipped his head down again, aching to feel those lips once more and retrieve the sensation of strength that had slipped through his fingers, but he stopped short. Alarik’s pulse shot upward; Damon’s thumb was still on his neck, feeling everything. Neither of them moved. It was like being suspended in that moment right before a superb orgasm. The tip of coming, yet not quite. Alarik’s lips parted, ready for more.

  “One picture,” Damon whispered. “Whatever you want, but you’ve gotta make it to the top first.”

  Alarik stared up at him with challenging gray eyes. “Where’s the fucking harness?”

  He could’ve used the opportunity to cop a feel as Alarik adjusted the harness on his body, but Damon helped only as needed, which wasn’t much. Alarik wasn’t entirely inexperienced with the equipment. When Damon brought it up, his refined companion hummed lazily.

  “I’ve done photo shoots on location before where I squeezed my trembling British arse into one of these.” He paused to point a finger in warning. “It never matters to anyone if the photographer is pissing his pants with fear, so it better matter to you!”

  Damon lifted his hands up. “It matters.”

  “Now,” Alarik cleared his throat and actually reddened, “it pains me to say this, but I may, at one point or another, scream. I may also be provoked to do so by as little as a bumblebee landing in my general vicinity. I have no control over it. So…apologies in advance.”

  Damon’s face was starting to ache from smiling so much. He wanted Alarik to talk non-stop with his perfect Os and As. He found himself hoping the man would say, “been” simply because it made him shiver.

  They started out slowly. Alarik asked several questions that proved he knew enough about what was expected of him that Damon wasn’t too worried. He stayed on the ground as belayer and called out instructions as Alarik progressed upward. At one point he heard a string of curses, then a wobbly-voiced shout, “Dear God! That was a lizard!”

  “They’ll stay out of your way. It’s okay—keep moving.”

  “You’re a filthy tosser for making me do this, and I’ll never forgive you!”

  “You’re almost halfway,” Damon hollered back. “Work over to the right a bit!”

  Alarik spoke only in grunts and mumbled curses the rest of the way up the wall, and when he pulled himself over the top, he lay on his stomach and looked down at Damon in surprise. “I’m alive!” he yelled, grinning. “I may puke on you.”

  Damon smiled brightly back up at him and began to climb. He hadn’t been lying when he said he’d been here so many times. He loved this spot because it was enough to get the blood moving without taking hours to get to the top, and it was always a good option when he wanted to test equipment. Moving carefully, he followed the same path as Alarik, securing himself at different points along the line. Alarik didn’t bother him with chatter, but Damon sensed his watchful gaze on every move he made.

  He’d stuffed his sweatshirt in his pack and was wearing a sleeveless undershirt, but even in the chill, a sheen of sweat covered his arms. In about half the time it’d taken Alarik, Damon was crawling over the ledge. Alarik was there to greet him, his hands wrapping around one of Damon’s biceps as he helped
him up and over.

  Naturally, without thinking, Damon pulled him into a hug. The other man was only just shorter than him, and the way he tucked his head in close to Damon’s neck and wrapped his arms around his waist instantly brought back that feeling of power. Lady Luck was shining down on him because he couldn’t remember ever having such a surplus of contentment.

  Damon’s breathing gently slowed as they held one another, and the silence and solitude of their surroundings soothed him. He tucked the sensation away in the back of his mind to take out later when he knew he’d need it.

  “I owe you a picture,” he said, breaking the silence.

  “Hmm,” Alarik hummed against him, unmoving.

  “Are you going to have me strip down now? Lay on the ground and arch my back?”

  Alarik laughed against his neck, leaving a soft kiss near his Adam’s apple. “That’s very tempting, but I have something else in mind.” He reluctantly pulled away, giving Damon’s ego a boost in the process, and let his fingers trail downward until they’d captured his hand. “Come over here.”

  Damon followed, shrugging out of his backpack and sitting where Alarik directed. He waited patiently, and a little nervously, as the other man knelt down and sifted through his gear until he’d retrieved his camera and a water bottle. Alarik took a drink and tossed the water to Damon, then stood to look at him, cocking his head back and forth in typical photographer style. He gave a decisive nod and began posing him. Damon ended up leaning back on his hands, knees bent like he’d just fallen back onto the ground. It wasn’t very artistic; he’d expected something more Vogue.

  “This is it? Childbirthing pose?”

  Alarik choked, then laughed until his eyes watered. “No, you idiot,” he said between breaths, and as Damon watched, the hunky British photographer scooted in between his legs until his back was flush against Damon’s chest. “This is the picture I want. Cozy, yes?”

  Damon finally smiled, bringing his arms up to rest on his knees and enclosing Alarik between them. “Cozy.”

  Alarik fiddled with the camera, dropping the screen down so they could see themselves, then held it out just far enough that both of them were in frame. They looked good together. Light and dark… Alarik’s chiseled jaw and windblown hair next to Damon’s shy smile. Even the stupid freckles seemed to fit.

  “Ready?”

  Damon kissed Alarik’s earlobe in response and listened for the shutter to click. He didn’t think that they’d stay seated the way they were, but once Alarik set his camera aside, he leaned back with a happy sigh.

  “You…” Damon began, then paused, trying to decide if he should change tack and say something other than what had just come to mind. He recalled the look in Alarik’s eyes when he’d talked about taking risks and saying what he wanted, when he wanted to say it. There really would be a sense of freedom in that, wouldn’t there?

  “Tell me, Damon. I’m not going anywhere,” Alarik said firmly.

  “I guess I was just going to say how I didn’t expect you to make me feel like this. Strong. Fierce…” He blushed and rolled his eyes. “That sounded stupid. Let me borrow your vocabulary for a minute.”

  “You are strong. And fierce in such a unique way,” Alarik answered seriously, turning his head slightly so that a beautiful section of his neck was on display for Damon. “I’m unaccustomed to a man who gives so much to others while still holding his own the way you do. It’s a relief meeting you.”

  Damon wanted to squirm. Maybe Alarik was reading him all wrong or they were both blinding each other, because he didn’t think he was holding his own as well as Alarik thought. “What do you mean by that?” he hesitantly asked.

  “Mmm… I suppose it’s like I’m finally seeing something happen that I’d begun to think was the stuff of legends. I like you. I enjoy seeing your expressions—skeptical one moment, unshakable the next. Every person I mentioned your name to at that wedding on Saturday had something good to say about you. They really meant what they said, too. You’ve got a million layers and I’m only scratching at the surface. I need to know so much more, Mr. Wright.”

  “Like I’m a challenging project or something? Someone to rescue?” Damon’s hackles raised out of habit. He didn’t want this to become another Kenny or Andrew situation where both exploited him in different ways. He’d climb down the wall right this second, and leave Alarik at the top, if that were the case.

  “No,” said Alarik, his hands reaching up to rub in soothing circles over Damon’s arms. “Not like that. I mean it like you’re a man worth the effort. You leave me wanting another taste, another touch—just a little more. It places you in a decidedly strong position, doesn’t it? With me at your leisure? Will I be forever hunting you, I wonder?”

  God, Alarik did honesty so well. Bravely, even.

  “What if I want to be caught?” Damon whispered against Alarik’s skin, frightened that he’d even voiced such a desire, and Alarik gripped his arms more tightly.

  “Then, please… Let me have a go at catching you before another can claim the right.”

  Thrilled and embarrassed, Damon tucked his head in closer, inhaling more of Alarik’s scent. “There’s no one else I’m seeing right now,” he admitted. “Andrew happened months ago.”

  Alarik chuckled and turned into Damon’s nuzzled inspection. “I wasn’t forcing a confession, you know, but thank you for telling me.”

  “Are you seeing anyone else? Someone in New York, or…anywhere?”

  Damn! This was an honest to goodness heart-to-heart. Yeeeesh! Todd will be shocked.

  “I’m focused entirely on you, sir,” Alarik breathed. “There’s no one else and as long as you allow me near, there will be no one else—exclusivity is massively appealing when it comes to you.”

  Damon wove his arms around Alarik’s chest in a tight embrace, so glad that no one else was seeing how overcome he was. He’d come home from Luke and Mandy’s wedding with a pretty impressive party favor.

  “When was the last time you came here?” Alarik eventually asked, breaking the silence, but letting Damon hold him.

  “A couple weeks ago. Todd and I climbed here and then hiked another place for a few hours.”

  “May I ask you something about him?” Alarik cocked his head and absently ran his fingers over the veins on the back of Damon’s hand. “Is he with Valerie? It seems like a complicated situation…”

  Damon sighed, wishing he knew the answer himself. “You never know with Todd. He got his heart totally trashed by a girl in college. Ella. I never liked her and I probably should’ve said so sooner. Todd would’ve listened to me, I think.”

  “Did she leave him?”

  Damon sniffed, still pissed when he remembered how bad off Todd had been. What a fucking mess it was. “He was on the baseball team in college and it turns out she screwed most of the baseball team, including the second baseman who was his roommate. She got pregnant, but Todd was away on a student exchange trip and couldn’t have been the father. That’s when all the rumors started about where she’d been and who with. God, it was awful…”

  Alarik took a second to absorb that, and then asked, “Well, who was the father?”

  “She said it was the roommate.”

  “The second baseman?” Alarik gaped.

  “Yep. He moved all his shit out of the apartment while Todd was out of town, left him to figure out how to cover the rent, and moved in with Ella. Wanna know the kicker?”

  “What?”

  “They got married and she delivered a bouncing baby boy with mocha skin and dark eyes. Todd’s roommate was this redheaded farm boy from Iowa.”

  “Are you serious?” Alarik twisted a little to see if Damon was joking. “Who was the real father?”

  “The fucking shortstop.”

  “My God! What a terrible woman!”

  Damon nodded even though Alarik couldn’t see it. “Todd was ready to fly home and kill his roommate, but Luke, Franco and I drove out to see him and talked
him down. When he got back, she’d already married and when he heard about the baby, he laughed for the first time in months.

  “But, since then, he hasn’t trusted women and he doesn’t trust himself to decide if one is genuine. Val is a special case, too, because she’s so different than Mandy. I think she’s got the unnoticed, younger-sister complex and it’s made her cold.” Damon realized how longwinded he was becoming and winced. “What do you think? Should I take up psychology?”

  Alarik gave him a reassuring pat. “You hit center target, actually. I’ve known Mandy a very long time and she and Valerie have always had a tense relationship. There’s jealousy on both sides. I do hope Todd finds what he’s looking for—if he’s looking for anything at all.”

  “Can’t blame him for being scared, you know?”

  “No, I certainly can’t. We’ve all wondered what other’s will do to us if we let them, but he has a much better reason to think being hurt is a foregone conclusion.”

  “I am curious about what’s going down with him and Val, though. Never thought I’d see the day that they’d sneak out of a bar together.”

  Alarik leaned forward and stretched his back, groaning in a masculine way that was more erotic than he probably realized. “I wish I’d gone that night. Mandy invited me, but I knew she had some sort of ulterior motive and I didn’t want to fend her off all evening. Had I known it was you… Well.”

  Damon pictured Alarik the way he looked at the wedding brunch in his suit, like he’d just stepped from in front of the camera rather than behind it. When Mandy had gone to him and hugged him, she’d made Damon wonder. She’d lived with Alarik for several years. Could they have…?

  “Was Mandy ever—I mean, was she in love with you once?”

  Alarik abruptly stopped fidgeting and turned around so he could see Damon’s face. “Why do you ask?”

  Damon glanced away, a little bereft at the sudden loss of the other man’s warmth. “I watched the way she was with you. I know you’re just friends and I know you’re gay—what with the kissing men and the outright admission that you are, but it’s hard for me to believe that a girl like Mandy, someone with such a warm, outgoing vibe, wouldn’t fall for you.”