Boyfriend Chronicles 02 - The Boyfriend Mandate (19 page)

Pressure swelled in Memphis’s chest at the description. Damned if Tyler didn’t articulate the feeling better than Memphis had himself.

“Why did you jump?” Tyler asked.

Finally, a question with an easy answer. “Because it was on my list,” he said with a shrug.

Tyler narrowed his eyelids in confusion. “What list?”

“My bucket list,” he said, striving for an easy tone. “I made it the day I died and was resurrected.”

Tyler briefly pressed his fingers to his eyes, as if the words were too hard to hear.

Memphis continued on. “But I never followed through. I figure making my way down the checklist is the perfect way to celebrate my recent decision to flip cancer the bird,” he said with a grin. “So I revamped the sucker, adding some new ideas, and decided there was no time like the present to get started.”

All a part of his take-back-his-life plan—a plan that, in a way, included the man standing before him.

The information seemed to give Tyler pause. And as the silence stretched between them, Memphis had the uneasy feeling Tyler was seeing things he wasn’t supposed to see.

“There were twenty tasks in all,” Memphis went on. “I’ve accomplished a good number of them already. Number five was today’s BASE jump from a downtown building. Although―” He pursed his lips, pretending to contemplate his next statement because…well, Tyler probably wouldn’t be pleased. “I added a new goal to the list, and now numbers one and two keep changing places. I can’t decide which is more important.”

The silence was broken when the elevator doors whooshed open accompanied by a
ding
.

Tyler hesitated a moment and then passed through the open doors. “What’s number one?”

Memphis watched him carefully. “Hearing you say you forgive me.”

Tyler stumbled slightly as he entered the elevator, righting himself easily enough as he turned toward him with a stunned look on his face, gray eyes wide. Memphis followed him inside and crossed to the control panel. Acutely aware of the gaze, he pushed the button for Noah’s floor.

He’d waited a long time to complete this task. Tyler was the most important thing on his age-old to-do list, and he wasn’t talking about fucking.

Although that definitely had a place, too.

For months, he’d been trapped in a hospital bed, too weak to move, vowing he would get the hell out of the intensive care unit if only just to go home to die. And as time had slowly passed and he’d finally gotten strong enough to leave the hospital, it had felt too late to explain. Eleven months had passed since Memphis had walked out on his boyfriend; no doubt Tyler had moved on by then. Or maybe Memphis had been too much of a chickenshit to face him again.

Memphis let out a mental snort. Some lame-ass hero he turned out to be.

Tyler stared at him as the elevator doors closed and the car gave a gentle lurch before beginning its crawl upwards, the painstakingly slow
ping
…
ping
…
ping
as they passed each floor. Expectation filled the small compartment and made the air dense. Knowing from experience the ascent would take time, Memphis settled his shoulder against the mirrored wall, refusing to say anything else until he got a response.

Despite his cool exterior, Tyler sounded braced for bad news. “What’s number two?”

Let the games begin
.

“My new number two is,” Memphis said, scanning for any detectable change in Tyler’s expression as he laid his cards on the table, crude hand and all, “convincing you to fuck me.”

A moment of strained incredulity filtered across Tyler’s face, and then fire flashed through his eyes and almost turned the gray color blue, a match for the tie he was wearing. Three burning seconds later, the look was doused, the rapid rise and fall of his chest the only proof he was straining to keep himself in check.

And, damn it to hell and back, the sight of Tyler bordering on losing control got Memphis’s motor running
hot.

He’d been searching for this button, the one that would unleash all that new restraint Tyler had. And as they stood there, the potential between them pulsing like a living thing, Memphis contemplated his next move. Should he push the issue further until the man finally broke? The answer came in the form of another question.

When would he get this chance again?

Never
.

So he reached out and pressed the stop button on the elevator, bringing them to a halt with a jerk.

Clearly surprised, Tyler grabbed the handrail. “What are you doing?”

Memphis waited a moment before answering.

“We’re not going anywhere until you give me an answer,” he replied. “I’ve been carrying around a packet of lube and several condoms ever since the day you strolled into the photo shoot. So when we get to Noah’s condo, is this going to happen or not?” He waited two more beats, blood pounding in his head. “Yes or no, Ty?”

Their gazes still locked, Memphis barely managed to remain still as he watched Tyler pick up the telephone handset attached to the elevator control panel.

After a split-second pause, Tyler spoke into the receiver. “The emergency stop button accidentally got jammed.”

Somewhere in Memphis’s body, a pressure release valve slipped, and his blood turned to steam. He bit back a laugh, unable to concentrate on the conversation as Tyler continued to speak into the phone. Instead, he forced himself to lean against the wall.

In all of his dabblings in the dude-on-dude action side of life—ninety-nine percent of which involved the guy before him—Memphis had never considered bottoming. Until now. Maybe he’d been waiting for this very moment. Waiting for Today’s Tyler.

The man hung up, bringing reality back with the
clunk
of the receiver.

“What did he say?” Memphis asked.

“He told me somebody would be here in about forty-five minutes.”

Need spiked. “Forty-five, huh?”

“Yes,” he said. “And then he apologized for the inconvenience.”

“As he bloody well should,” Memphis said with a smile that felt smug. “What are we going to do to pass the time?”

Tyler crossed his arms, his expression unyielding. “I haven’t decided yet.”

The words sounded a lot like a
maybe
, which was a hell of a lot better than the answer Memphis had been given last night, a definite
I’m not going to fuck you.

In an attempt to look as if his heart wasn’t really racing ninety miles an hour in excited circles, Memphis lightly rested his hands on the rail behind him, arms assuming a posture of relaxation. Tyler’s gaze never budged, and he paused, as if contemplating his next move while absently fingering the knot in his tie.

Jesus, why was that such a turn-on?

Memphis’s voice sounded raw. “You aren’t going to strangle me now, are you?”

“I’ve considered it.” He huffed out a breath. “Several times, in fact.”

The mental image of Tyler with his hands wrapped around Memphis’s neck did wicked things to his nervous system.

“Especially today,” Tyler went on, beautiful gray eyes smoldering, “when I had to watch you leap off the side of a high-rise with nothing more than a five-second warning.”

“Admit it”—despite his aroused state, Memphis smiled—“it made you hot.”

“Admit it,” he said with a frown, “you jumped just to piss me off. Did you think if you made me mad enough that I’d top you?”

How the hell could the man say those words without sounding winded? Memphis felt as if he’d just run up all fifty-five floors of the Belfour Building.

Expression unchanged, Tyler asked. “Why now?”

The question expanded in the air between them and could have meant anything. But Memphis knew exactly what Tyler was referring to: positions and role reversals. The subtle, and not so subtle, imbalance of power that had infused their relationship from the very beginning.

Memphis considered how to reply without really replying. “Ten years ago, you were a laid-back mathlete. And now you’re―”

Too freaking hot for your own good.

Driving me to the brink of insanity with your restraint.

And, God, I think the restraint is
all. My. Fault
.

Tucking the thought away, Memphis met his gaze. “And now you’re an irresistible challenge.”

Tyler didn’t move except to press his lips flat together, continuing to toy with the knot of fabric at his neck. “You never wanted to bottom before,” he said, brow furrowed. “So what changed about
you
?”

Changed? It was all Memphis could do not to let out a bitter laugh.

His lips tipped in a wry smile. “Everything.”

And he did mean absolutely
everything
. Depending on Tyler’s answer, he might just find out for himself…

A niggle of concern tried to worm its way past the lust storming his body, but Memphis shoved the worry away. Tyler sure as hell didn’t look worried. In fact, he looked like he was formulating a plan and was trying to decide whether to follow through…or not. And
not
wasn’t an option.

Memphis’s mind scrambled for a way to give him a final shove. Making him mad definitely seemed to work best.

“Think about it, Ty,” he said, turning up the wattage in his grin to ultra-supreme. “Not only can you help me achieve another goal on my list, now’s your chance to return the favor and pop my anal cherry.”

The words were meant to provoke, and they did their job well.

Emotions bloomed and overtook Tyler’s face, so many that Memphis scrambled to keep track of them all. First came the exasperated affection Tyler had worn regularly years ago. But this was immediately dwarfed by lust and want laced with a hefty dose of…anger.

The sight had Memphis mentally fist-punching the air in celebration, but a thousand years wouldn’t be enough time to prepare for what came next.

“Is that all you want?” Tyler’s dark, ominous tone lifted the hair on the back of Memphis’s neck, which only got worse when the man pushed off from the mirrored elevator wall and slowly walked closer. “A quick fuck?”

Holy shit
. The sight and sound almost made him blow his wad. He’d never gotten so hard so fast, not in a long, long time. And no, a quickie wasn’t
all
he wanted. But it would be a helluva start.

Con: his ex-boyfriend was seriously hot, but right now he looked angry and intent on making him pay.

Pro: his ex-boyfriend was seriously hot, and right now he looked angry and intent on making him
pay
.

And all Memphis could think was
about damn time.

“Is that why you’re here?” Tyler reached up and began to undo his tie, and Memphis nearly melted inside. Tyler took another step forward, bringing the smell of his cologne close and the anger closer. “So you can cross me off your
list
?”

“
Yes
, goddammit,” he barked back. The need to get rid of this guilt had been consuming him for ten freaking years. “Your choice.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “Either yell at me for deserting you or fuck the hell out of me.”

A stunned silence filled the elevator, and Memphis reined in the powerful emotion that had just slipped out, swallowing hard against the ache in his throat. For a brief moment, he wondered if he’d bitten off more than he could handle and if he’d wind up choking in the process.

But he wanted this. He wanted
Tyler.
And if he could finally find relief by having the man take his resentment out on Memphis in a bout of angry sex?

All the better.

“
Jesus Christ
.” Tyler jerked the tie from around his neck as the tiny green-gold flecks in his gray eyes flashed with fire. “Well, God
forbid
I get in the way of your
goals
.” The tie dropped to the floor as he cupped the back of Memphis’s neck. “I hope you know what you’re asking for.” In one quick, forceful movement, Tyler pulled hard and crushed their lips together.

Like an electromagnetic pulse, the blast of heat nearly dropped Memphis to his knees. If the surge hadn’t permanently fried his nervous system, it would be a motherfreaking miracle.

Less of a kiss, this was more of an attack of teeth and tongue and lips. Tyler gripped Memphis tight, bruising skin as he pulled him close and continued to take his mouth, tongue digging deep, teeth grazing skin hard enough to send delicious shock waves through Memphis’s body. Tyler angled his head to press in deeper, to take more, and the hot, frenzied movement of his lips swamped Memphis’s senses. And then the man tugged on his lower lip, sharp enough that Memphis grunted in approval.

Mouth red and spit-slick, Tyler wrenched his head away, breath heaving. “Is this what you wanted?”

“Yes,” he shot back, pressing his swollen lips together to enjoy the pain and the taste.

Hell
yes, because this was much more satisfying than yelling and cuss words.

Tyler clutched Memphis at the waist and jerked their lips and hips together, hard cock meeting hard cock. The contact, despite the inconvenience of the barrier of their pants, triggered something in Tyler, a little less anger and a little more desperation. Blunt nails dug hard into the skin beneath Memphis’s shirt as Tyler continued to assault his mouth, grinding their hips together, sending sparks everywhere.

Oh,
fuck
.

The rough rhythm pulled another groan from Memphis that got lost in Tyler’s mouth. Refusing to be a bystander during the loss of what little was left of his virginity, he met Tyler’s teeth and tongue and lips turn for turn. He met each thrust of hips with one of his own, until he was so turned on his body buzzed and crackled as if he were lit from within.

With a tiny grunt, Tyler shoved Memphis’s T-shirt up, and he lifted his arms to help. The man tossed the shirt aside, dug his fingers into Memphis’s lower back again, and then his lips landed on Memphis’s chest like he was dying and Memphis’s skin was an elixir for immortality.

Memphis’s mind scrambled to keep up, trying to take everything in at once: the hard dick pressed against his, the hot breath that washed across him as Tyler nipped and sucked his way from one shoulder, across the base of Memphis’s throat, to the other side. A heated trail was left in the wake, blood bursting beneath skin as Tyler marked him. And then the guy slid his fingers under the back of his jeans until there was no more room for his hands, digging his blunt nails into the top of his ass and grinding their hips harder.