Walking The Edge Page 2
They ran side by side for a while, their machines at the same speed and their strides oftentimes matching. On the wall in front of them, a smaller television was set to the news channel, and the blonde woman returned to herald sunny weather.
Leo turned his head to glance at his partner, catching him with his head thrown back as he drank from a water bottle. Leo found himself thirsty for more than water, suddenly. Seeking to distract himself, he asked: “Why don't you run outside?"
Having returned the bottle to its holder, Brett thumbed the controls of the treadmill. A shrill beep announced the speed increase.
"I don't know. It's just more convenient to stay here."
Without thinking, Leo increased the speed of his machine as well, keeping up with Brett.
"You've always run?” he asked
"Since high school, yeah.” Brett's voice was beginning to sound uneven. “I was in track and field. It feels like an eternity ago."
Leo laughed, a trace of bitterness tinting his amusement. “I know what you mean."
Another press of his finger raised the speed again. He increased his rhythm to keep up with the machine, aware of Brett's eyes on him until the matching beep came.
"Did you use ... to run too?” Brett asked. Talking seemed to be more difficult for him now.
"Not like this, but yeah, I did. Way back."
For almost a minute, the only sounds were those of their feet hitting the treadmill and Brett's breathing. Then he thumbed the speed control, going up rather than down as Leo had anticipated, and asked: “How long ago was ‘way back'?"
Leo snorted to himself. He should have seen that line of questioning coming.
"Not long enough that you can take me."
This time, he didn't simply raise his speed to match Brett's, but pushed it two levels more. Immediately, Brett did the same, wordlessly accepting the challenge. When Leo looked at him, he found Brett grinning despite his heavy breathing. They held on to that speed for a few minutes—longer than Leo would have expected Brett to last—but finally a series of quick beeping noises announced that Brett was giving up. His treadmill came to a slow pace for a couple of minutes then stopped. Turning off his own machine, Leo watched him guzzle down water even as he held on to his side. All he could hear, now, was Brett's breathing and heartbeat. Both followed a fast rhythm that drew Leo to his lover.
"No fair,” Brett said, his smile belying the words.
Leo didn't reply in words, and simply laid a hand on Brett's damp t-shirt, right over his heart, feeling it pound so hard he could almost have believed it was beating in his own chest.
"Share a shower with me?"
Brett's offer sounded casual, but they both knew what lay behind it. They had shared quite a few showers in the past months, and most ended the same way. Leo wouldn't have minded one bit, but in the mood he was in, he knew he'd ask more time from Brett—more attention—than usual, and he didn't want to show such a needy side of himself to Brett.
"If we take a shower now,” he said, “I'm not letting you get out of the apartment before night."
He watched Brett swallow hard, and delighted in the burst of desire that overlaid the sweat in his scent.
"As tempting as it is, I do have appointments to keep and a business to run."
The answer was anything but unexpected, yet Leo rolled his eyes. “You workaholic."
Brett's eyes sparkled when he laughed. “Isn't that Lisa's line?"
Leo kissed him hard, stealing again the breath that Brett hadn't quite caught yet. Brett's tongue caressed along his teeth, right where his fangs hid, in a gesture that had become familiar in the past months. Replying as always, Leo dropped his fangs. Brett deliberately nicked his tongue on one and the flavor of blood burst on Leo's tongue. He hummed, low in his throat, and felt Brett shiver against him before he pulled away.
"Later,” he said with a hitch in his voice, and Leo smiled at the promise this simple word held.
* * * *
By two o'clock, Brett had expedited every pressing matter that needed to be dealt with at the club, and arranged for the part-time barmaid to come that night. His mind now free of business issues, he turned to more personal ones. A search on the Internet quickly proved to him that he knew nothing as far as motorcycles were concerned.
As he delved a little deeper into consumer magazines and experts reviews, he wondered what else Lisa knew about Leo that had yet to come up in their conversation. He was grateful for her help, but at the same time he couldn't help feeling a twinge of irrational resentment. He knew he couldn't expect to know everything about Leo after only a few months when Lisa had spent decades with him, but it didn't help this feeling of being an outsider to the relationship they shared.
Had Lisa, with her usual sharpness, guessed his need to have something deeper with Leo, something that was theirs only? Months earlier, Brett had told her plainly that he loved her, and, as he had expected, she had never replied in kind. He had tried not to think about it—not to be hurt by it—but their conversation today had reopened the unacknowledged wound. Could Leo say these words that Lisa was unable to pronounce? Would he? Brett did not believe the often-repeated claim that vampires were unable to love. He just didn't know if Leo felt that way about him.
He suddenly realized what path his thoughts had taken, and wanted to roll his eyes at himself. He lived with two incredibly sensual, funny, caring partners, and had never been happier. Why complicate things?
He closed his laptop and stood abruptly. He knew of a motorcycle dealership on the edge of town. He'd go there, have a look in person, and choose a bike. Leo could always trade it in later if he didn't like it.
"I'm going out,” he told John as he walked out of his office. “I'll be back in a couple of hours."
The club's chief of security and personnel glanced up from his review of the previous night's security videos and nodded absently. “Any deliveries planned?” he asked, his eyes back on the screen.
"Not today. My cell phone is on if you need me."
John only answered with another nod. Leaving him to his work, Brett left the club. He briefly looked around the attached garage to figure out where Leo would park the bike. To the right of his car, two sofas were stored up against the wall, covered in plastic. Leo had complained about how uncomfortable they were for weeks until Lisa had given in and bought new ones. If they finally got rid of them, the bike would easily fit there, far enough from the car that no unfortunate scratching accidents would occur. He'd ask John to tell the staff that evening that the two sofas were up for the taking, and if there were no takers he'd donate them to charity.
Satisfied with his plan, Brett drove off to the dealership. As soon as he stepped inside and started looking at the models on display, a woman approached him. Her golden nametag, pinned on a fitted denim shirt, identified her as Sally, associate manager. She shook Brett's hand firmly and gave him a smile just this side of too bright. She seemed familiar, for some odd reason, her bright red hair jogging Brett's memory but not enough for him to know where he could have seen her before.
"Just looking today or do you have your heart set on something, maybe?"
He shrugged. “Looking, and maybe more. What bike do you sell most, these days?"
At once, she turned toward the display in the middle of the dealership. On a foot high platform, five bikes stood side by side, identical as far as Brett could tell save for their colors. He followed Sally to them and listened absently as she rattled on numbers and features that meant very little to him. He did recognize the name of the model from the reviews he had read online. It was one of the best values on the market, he remembered, though a bit on the pricey side. Thankfully, the success of On The Edge made price a non-issue.
"Would you like to take it for a test drive?” Sally asked after she had delivered her sales pitch. “Once you feel its power between your legs, I'm sure you won't hesitate anymore."
Brett looked back at her, a little surprised, and disguise
d his fit of laughter into a cough. She had made the offer with a straight face, but the sultry tone of her voice gave a totally different meaning to her words. He would have expected it in a sex toys shop, but not in a motorcycle dealership. He wondered if it was part of her usual pitch. It certainly cast his present to Leo in a very different light.
"No, thanks.” He ran a hand over the seat of the nearest bike, imagining Leo sitting on it. His mind played a trick on him and suddenly Leo was naked on the leather seat. Naked, and erect. His cock stirred in his pants, and Brett shook his head to clear his thoughts. He noticed the saleswoman was giving him a slight frown, and he added: “I don't know how to drive one."
She didn't bat an eyelash or ask why he wanted a bike if he didn't know how to drive.
"We can recommend an excellent driving school."
"It's not necessary.” He didn't even think twice before his next words rolled off his tongue. “It's a gift for my boyfriend."
He had received a few odd looks in the past when introducing Leo as such, but the woman seemed surprised more than judgmental. She recovered quickly and resumed her praises of the motorcycle's every feature, now including remarks about how much Brett's boyfriend would enjoy this or that. He stopped her at the first opening in her spiel and asked for a quote on the floor model. Within moments, he was filling in the registration paperwork in Leo's name in the cubicle that served as her office.
"Could you deliver it?"
"No problem. Just fill in the address here.” She reached over the desk to point at a different section of the contract. “Will you need helmets? We have a great selection for you to choose from."
Before she had even finished, she had opened a catalog on the desk. Brett scanned the page and pointed at a black helmet trimmed in silver to match the motorcycle.
"Two of those,” he said.
His naked Leo fantasy lost something with the addition of the helmet, but it didn't make him rethink the purchase. Leo might be a vampire, it was still possible for him to get hurt.
The entire process took little more than five minutes. Brett liked doing business fast. When they were done, he watched her read over the delivery address and could tell when she recognized it.
"On The Edge? That's the dancing club downtown, isn't it?"
"It is,” he replied, his pride that she recognized his business’ name shining through the words.
"I've been there a few times,” she continued, still reading over the paperwork. “I've always had a great—"
She fell silent abruptly and blinked twice, very fast. When she looked up again, pink colored her cheeks for no apparent reason.
"Your boyfriend is very lucky, Mr. Andrews."
Something in the way she said the word “boyfriend” and didn't quite look Brett in the eyes made a flash of intense jealousy burn through him before he even knew why. Then he understood why she had seemed familiar; understood that she had recognized not only the club's name on the paperwork, but also Leo's.
For months, he'd watched Leo flirt with anyone who so much as glanced in his direction. At first, it hadn't bothered him, not any more than Lisa's hunting did. With each new flirt, though, whether it ended with nothing more than a smile, a quick feed in a corner of the club, or Leo accompanying someone home for a few hours, it had become more difficult.
He forced a smile to his lips as they shook hands and bit back the questions that burned his lips. Had she done more than flirt with Leo? Danced with him, maybe? Allowed him to bite her? Taken him home, even?
The questions stayed with him as he drove back to the club, souring his good mood. It wasn't as though he didn't know what Leo was up to. He was being irrational again. Knowing that, however, did not help in the slightest.
* * * *
Leo kept himself busy for as long as he could, but by mid-afternoon he caved in and returned to the silent bedroom. The ambient light had strengthened since morning and revealed the familiar room. On the left side of the bed, the closet door was ajar, as usual. On the opposite side, two dressers were crammed side by side next to the window. As he passed by it, Leo absentmindedly trailed his fingers against the top of the second one—the tangible proof that he lived in this apartment, added to the furniture the same day he had moved in.
As he reached the head of the bed, habit brought his hands to the waist on his sweatpants. He stilled and gave a small shake of his head. He hadn't come to her for sex, merely company. Keeping the clothes on, he lay down by Lisa's side and, with gentle hands, drew her into his arms. She let go of her pillow and burrowed against his chest, tucking her head beneath his chin in a familiar position. He stroked her hair, remembering, and also missing a little, the long gone days when her blonde curls had fallen almost to the middle of her back.
"What time ‘s it?” she asked with a yawn.
"Almost four. Rise and shine."
She stirred against him, rubbing her cheek against his chest. “Four.” She sighed. “You're lucky it's your birthday."
He couldn't help groaning at the reminder. “Why did you tell Brett?"
Part of him expected her to admit it was all payback for telling Brett about her birthday. She pressed her lips to his skin, however, and simply said: “Because you deserve to be spoiled."
Her words made so little sense that he wasn't sure whether he had misheard or whether she was making fun of him.
"Deserve?” He tried to laugh it off, but somehow his voice sounded almost anxious. “What did I do to deserve it?"
"You're you, that's what."
This time, he forced a laugh out. “You're getting mushy in your old years."
She pulled back and opened her eyes to slits, just enough to throw him a mock glare. “Look who's talking. Do you want me to tell Brett there should be seventy candles on your cake?"
With a groan, Leo rolled onto his back and, grabbing a pillow, dropped it over Lisa's face. She was laughing when she pushed it off, but her laughter soon died and she rested a hand on his chest.
"Hey. I'm just teasing."
She leaned forward to kiss his shoulder.
"I know,” he said. “I know. It's just—"
He turned onto his side to see her, but found he didn't know how to finish. Humans sometimes became emotional when their age reached a round number, but for a vampire it was just silly.
"It's OK.” Lisa's hand slid upward, from his chest and up his throat to rest on his cheek. “You know he wouldn't care, don't you? It's just a number. It doesn't mean anything."
She leaned forward for a sweet, short kiss that lightened everything. After all these years spent together—and all these years apart—he still marveled that she could make him forget everything with just a touch of her hand or lips. He slid his arms around her and pulled her on top of his body, allowing her weight to ground him. From there, it could have easily turned to something else. His sweatpants could have been tugged down and discarded. Neither of them moved, however, and they just remained as they were, somehow closer than sex could have brought them. Leo started stroking her hair again, pausing briefly when a thought struck him. She had said he deserved to be spoiled, but they had long ago agreed to forego presents. He could hardly believe he hadn't realized what it meant sooner, and was filled with an odd mix of resignation and expectation.
"What is he buying for me?"
Lisa only laughed.
* * * *
Brett looked up at a knock on the glass door to his office. The aggravating columns of numbers he had been trying to reconcile for what seemed like hours simply ceased to exist when he saw who was there. Closing his laptop, he sat back in his chair and motioned for Leo to enter. He hadn't realized it was almost opening time.
"Stop,” he said when Leo had stepped two feet inside. “Turn around for me."
Leo raised a questioning eyebrow but complied, hands shoved in his pants pockets. The tight, white t-shirt hinted at well-defined muscles without being too clingy. The leather pants, on the other hand, showcased his a
ss very nicely. He wasn't wearing anything beneath them, Brett would have bet his shirt on it. A jolt of lust ran straight to his balls and he couldn't keep the grin off his face.
"That'll do,” he said when Leo completed his turn.
The corners of Leo's mouth twitched. “That'll do for what?"
A hand to his heart in mock outrage, Brett stood. “For what? You think I'd let your birthday go by without planning anything?"
One of the things Brett enjoyed most about Leo was how openly he showed his emotions. This time, though, as he walked around the desk and came closer to Leo, he couldn't have named the shadow that darkened his eyes and erased his burgeoning smile.
"I thought I was working,” Leo said with an affected shrug.
Brett grimaced. “I'm afraid you are. Joana can't come until nine thirty, maybe ten.” A step closer brought him toe to toe with Leo. He could smell a hint of the floral-scented soap Lisa favored, and he smiled at the thought that they had showered together. He cupped the back of Leo's his head. At the gentlest pressure, Leo leaned in close enough for a kiss. “But as soon as she arrives, you're mine."
The shadow retreated at his words. A wave of warmth spread over Brett, amplified when Leo murmured: “Am I not always?"
His lips brushed against Brett's, as elusive as his smile. Electricity coursed through Brett's body and he tightened his fingers at the back of Leo's head until he was tugging at his short, silky hair. Surely, Daniel could manage the bar on his own a little sooner. What was the point of being the boss if he couldn't—
His line of thoughts ended with the unexpected and embarrassingly loud protests of his empty stomach. The intense moment broken, Leo chuckled and pulled back.
"Go home. Have dinner,” he said. “Or I'll get Lisa to come and berate you. Again."
Rather than dropping his hand, Brett used his hold to bring Leo's mouth back to his. He nipped at his bottom lip just to see the familiar flame light up in his eyes, the flame that meant Leo wanted—a kiss, a bite, a quick fuck on the desk or a much longer one in their bed, it didn't matter as long as he wanted Brett.