Open Seating (24 page)

There was a harp on exhibit as well, made of ancient oak and willow, with twenty-nine brass strings. According to the informative plaque close by, the harp was the model for the emblem of Ireland.

Bryce took his time wandering around the room but eventually got bored. He headed toward the exit and sat on one of the stone benches, checking e-mail off his iPhone. When he got done responding to a few from his office, he played a game of Scrabble with an online friend who happened to be awake. It was one of the few games he played online, justifying the waste of time as brain food.

He glanced up when he heard his name and saw Seth walking toward him. He looked different with the new clothes Bryce had helped him pick out that morning at the boutique on Grafton Street in the heart of Dublin. The tight black tee with the U2 logo in silver clung to Seth’s torso and made him look ten years younger and a lot sexier. He’d consented to wearing the skinny jeans Bryce had pulled off the rack and didn’t even complain when the salesman pushed a pair of black boots that suited the outfit perfectly. The old clothes had been chucked into a charity bin on their way to the college.

Aside from his new duds was a better outlook on the future. There was a bounce to Seth’s step that hadn’t been there when they started their trip. It was a subtle change, but Bryce noticed because he felt responsible in a way. The outward signs of guilt and despair—drooping shoulders and perpetual scowl—had been replaced by a ready smile and cheerful optimism. Seth was prepared to try anything new, and if they ended up sharing the adventure, for however long, it would be a bonus Bryce hadn’t counted on at this stage. He’d envisioned more years of meaningless hookups until his body parts gave out, and after that, who knew? His uncertain future as a dirty old man seemed rather bleak now that he was given a much better alternative.

“All done?” he asked.

“Yes,” Seth replied. “Thank you for waiting. I know you’d rather be somewhere else.”

“Not really. We’ve already toured the town, and I’ve seen everything worth seeing. Did you have another tourist trap in mind?”

“No,” Seth said. “I’m ready to head back.”

“Let’s take a cab to the pier.”

“All right.”

They held hands in the cab, and it felt ridiculously normal. Bryce couldn’t get over how quickly and easily they’d fallen into this perfect rhythm that usually took other couples weeks and even months to achieve. He supposed the baptism by fire they went through those first days in London had a lot to do with it, but he couldn’t help but feel they were thrown together for a reason. Call it karma, kismet, or plain old-fashioned good luck, he wasn’t going to question it any longer. It was meant to be, and he would accept it as the gift fate had intended.

Back on board, they bumped into Matt and Glynis Crawford, who tempted them with descriptions of the decadent chocolate buffet, a must-try highlight of the trip, but one they hadn’t thought to pencil in due to their scheduled land tour. As it turned out, they were in plenty of time to make the four o’clock high tea. Death by Chocolate was the theme, and the incredible display appealed to their sense of sight and smell in a big way. Cakes, puddings, mousses, petit fours, ice cream, pies, fruits glazed with dark and white chocolate, brownies, cupcakes, rows of melt-in-your mouth truffles, éclairs, napoleons… it was a gastronomic overload.

“We’re not going to be able to have dinner at six if we indulge,” Seth commented.

“Let’s make a reservation at the fancy French restaurant for eight o’clock. We should be hungry for real food by then.”

“What about your friend Jeannie?” Seth asked.

“We’ll catch her tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Seth said, picking up a plate and getting in the buffet line. “Let’s hope this doesn’t set off my bowels again.”

“Hold on,” Bryce said. “Are you allergic to chocolate?”

“Not that I know of, but you have to have an iron-clad stomach to eat all of this and not get sick.”

“Eat in moderation,” Bryce said pointedly. “I have other plans for tonight, which don’t include sitting on the toilet.”

Seth barked out a laugh. “Trust me, Bryce. That’s not on my agenda either.”

After making their selections, Bryce and Seth headed back toward the seating area. They were hoping to find a table for two, but they were out of luck and ended up joining Matt and Glynis, who’d saved places for them at their table for four. Bryce wasn’t keen on sharing with the couple, but refusing would have been rude, and there were still many cruising days ahead of them. There was no need to create more animosity; however, if Matt dared to ask Seth to pose for him, or even managed to graze a finger, he’d deck him, good manners be damned.

Bryce wasn’t sure if his unreasonable jealousy stemmed from echoes of his past, the unexpected intensity of his current feelings for Seth, or both. Seth brought out more than the gentleman in him. Bryce wanted to protect him and make sure the rest of his life was smooth sailing after his recent troubles. He didn’t want anyone to fuck with his head again, and if he was perfectly honest, Bryce was more than happy with Seth’s request to be exclusive.

Unfortunately, Matt had conveniently forgotten—or deliberately chosen—to ignore Bryce’s claim on Seth and began to flirt the minute they sat down.

“You look great, Seth. Did you get your outfit in town?” he asked in his most smarmy voice.

Seth flushed and looked Bryce in the eyes. His silent request for direction was reassuring, and Bryce jumped into the conversation seamlessly.

“I’m glad you like my selection,” Bryce said.

“Oh?” Matt turned to him, looking annoyed. “Do you always pick out Seth’s clothes?”

“Whenever he lets me.”

“I wish I had a friend with such good taste,” Glynis interjected.

“Bryce is more than a friend,” Seth replied.

“Right. I forgot,” Glynis said.

“Apparently,” Bryce confirmed.

“I don’t suppose you’d consent to letting Seth sit for Matt, would you? He’s trying to put together an exhibit in P-town next summer featuring famous gay men.” Glynis added, “It’ll put him in the spotlight.”

Bryce was about to tell them to fuck off when Seth interjected smoothly, “I don’t pose naked for anyone except my partner. And if you must know, I’m more of a recluse than an attention seeker. I don’t want to be in the spotlight.”

“But you’re a writer,” Glynis protested. “Where’s that famous Hemingway ego?”

“Please don’t compare me to a drunk and a lecher,” Seth said.

“Sorry,” Glynis replied. “Wrong choice.”

Seth shrugged. “No worries.”

“Are you definitely not interested?” Matt asked. “I would love to have you as part of my collection.”

“Back off,” Bryce growled.

Pushing his plate away, Seth stood. “Come on, Bryce. I’ve had more than enough chocolate.”

“But you haven’t finished,” Glynis pointed out.

“We’re done here,” Seth said. “Please excuse us.”

AS SOON
as the cabin door shut, Seth hurled himself at Bryce. He was quivering with passion, so hungry for Bryce he could barely control himself. They came together in a blur of grasping hands and all-consuming, teeth-clashing kisses. Seth was so far gone, he didn’t even flinch when Bryce drew a few drops of blood as he pinched his lower lip with sharp incisors. Witnessing Bryce going growly and territorial was the biggest turn-on in his life, and Seth wanted Bryce to take ownership in the most primal way possible.

Tearing his mouth away, Seth ordered, “Do anything you want, but do it fast and hard.”

“Damn,” Bryce growled, “I knew there was a tiger buried underneath your tabby exterior.”

He picked Seth up and dumped him in the middle of the bed, grunting forcefully as he covered Seth’s splayed body.

Seth whined and attacked Bryce’s mouth again. The sweet taste of chocolate still lingered on Bryce’s tongue, and Seth sucked it greedily. Bryce rocked and rubbed, grinding down against Seth’s bulge, responding to the frantic urgency. Seth’s need to get naked and feel that fat cock without the denim barrier was foremost on his mind, and he plucked at Bryce’s clothes, whimpering in frustration when it became too much of a challenge.

“Let me,” Bryce said, helping him out with the zipper and briefs. They got rid of their clothes, and when they were back in position, thick cocks slotted side by side, Bryce grasped them both in his large hand and began pumping.

“That’s it,” Seth cried breathlessly, canting his hips and rocking to help with the steady strokes.

“Come on, babe, come hard,” Bryce commanded. His husky voice acted like an accelerant, igniting Seth’s passion until it blazed out of control. Within a minute, warm spurts of Seth’s cum coated Bryce’s stomach, tripping his own orgasm, and he ejaculated, adding his own stream to the messy mix between them.

Bryce rolled off, and Seth snuggled against him, burying his face in the crook of Bryce’s sweaty neck. They were asleep before they had a chance to draw a blanket. It was fortunate the room boys knocked before entering to make their beds for the night, and Bryce, being such a light sleeper, responded by telling them to come back in an hour.

“What time is it?” Seth asked groggily. Bryce stood beside the bed looking down at him. Dried cum coated his treasure trail, turning the dark hair gray. Even then he was still hot, and Seth felt a faint stirring in his groin.

“Seven.”

“At night?” he squeaked.

Bryce chuckled. “Yes.”

“Aren’t we supposed to be somewhere at eight?”

Affecting a French accent, Bryce said, “A romantic dinner for two at the Sel de Mer.”

“Wow, someone must have hit you on the head while I was asleep.”

“Roses, violins, and the whole shit and caboodle,” Bryce added, switching back to Chicago speak. “I thought I’d prove to you I wasn’t a Neanderthal.”

“You don’t have to prove anything, Bryce. You had me when you offered to come on this trip.”

“If I had known what a good impression I made, I would have been on my best behavior instead of screwing around in London.”

“Come here,” Seth said gently.

Bryce crawled back on the bed and sidled up to Seth. “What’s up?”

“I love that you want to change for me, but it’s not necessary,” Seth said. “We don’t need to do the whole Frenchie thing if you’d rather have a burger and fries.”

Bryce brushed away a lock of Seth’s hair, which had fallen over one eye. “Thanks for the pass, but I’m actually looking forward to it. Turning heads when you walk in on my arm and knowing you’re all mine is worth the aggravation of putting on a suit and tie.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“Of course I do,” Bryce said, exasperated. “What part of ‘I never lie’ don’t you understand?”

“Everyone fibs once in a while. Hell, even my sainted husband turned out to be a lying SOB in the end.”

“That’s pretty harsh.”

Seth blinked rapidly, pushing away tears that came out of nowhere. “I’m not sure I’ll ever forgive him.”

“I thought you had,” Bryce said sympathetically.

“Turns out I haven’t.”

Bryce gathered Seth up in his arms and held him tight. “I guess there’s no easy fix for this, babe. It’ll happen slowly, and one day you’ll wake up and think of him without getting pissed off. You’ll see.”

“I know you’re right, but it explains my hesitation to believe you unconditionally.”

“Is there still a little self-hatred mixed in with the anger? Don’t you feel you’re worthy of a man’s loyalty?”

“Maybe.”

“Okay, I get that. You’ve been through a lot in the last month. Let’s throw Mark out of the equation and stick to our truth, yours and mine. Even at the risk of losing you, I will never lie, so help me God.”

“You’re not on a witness stand, Bryce. I know you’re sincere.”

“But do you believe what I’m telling you about lies? I hate them as much as you do.”

“Owen,” Seth said, remembering. “Of course. I forget you were lied to in the worst way.”

“So… we’re good?”

“Yes.” Seth kissed Bryce. “Let’s get dressed and have our fancy dinner.”

Heads did turn when they walked into the candlelit restaurant, and Seth stood a little taller, delighted to be seen on the arm of the hottest guy in the world. He freely admitted he was captivated with Bryce in an old-fashioned, romance-novel sort of way. Bryce had turned into the reluctant hero for Seth, stepping into the role unwittingly, but up for the challenge in every way.

Seth didn’t think he could have lived through the last week if he’d been on his own. On second thought, he knew he would have survived, but only barely. Visions of him locked up in his cabin gorging on room service and crying himself to sleep assaulted him and made him shudder in revulsion. Nothing and no one should diminish him in that way. He attributed his self-enlightenment to Bryce. Their fledgling relationship was unpredictable at this stage, but no matter the outcome, Seth would always be grateful for everything he’d experienced so far.

At their table, a small Waterford Crystal bud vase showcased three red roses. Seth looked around at the other tables and noticed flowers, but they were carnations. No one had roses but them. A warm glow pulsed deep inside as he envisioned Bryce calling the concierge to make sure they got this evening right. Bryce wouldn’t allow them to screw this up the way they did their arrival. It wasn’t his style to leave things to chance, and that was probably what made him a successful contractor.

Seth wasn’t a fool by any means, and he was aware that his impression of Bryce was optimistically positive, no doubt influenced in part by incredible sex. For years he’d been writing love scenes between men and women, and lately, due to more liberal policies at his publishing house, between two men. For his hetero scenes he drew heavily on porn sites, reluctantly watching but turning them into steamy narratives that made his female readers swoon. Now, for the first time in his life, he could write a man-on-man love scene from memory, which, to his mind, would be a lot more effective.

“This is really romantic,” Seth said after the waiter filled their goblets with an excellent French Burgundy. “Did you preorder our food as well?”