"Well?" Greg asked, staring up at me.
"Well what?" I replied, propped up on my elbow, staring right back at him.
"Are you going to keep your promise and dazzle me," he said, grinning mischievously, "or are you going to lay there and stare at me to death?"
"You're a real romantic, you know that?" I chuckled.
"Mmm...like I'm supposed to believe that's bothering you now."
"I was just making an observation, Greg, not a suggestion." I brushed some hair out of his eyes.
"Were you really going to suggest something or am I reading too much into this?
"Just an observation. I swear."
"Oh wait, I get it." Greg enveloped my hand with both of his. "This is the Jimmy Wilson approach. No hiding behind doors for you, but since I beat you home tonight that kinda cost you the element of surprise even if you wanted to. So now it's on to Plan B. Am I right?"
"Sort of. I didn't think you and your leg would appreciate being dragged all over the living room." My hand shook loose from his and started to unbutton his shirt.
His long fingers lightly brushed my cheek. "I see. Thinking of me. That's so you, Jimmy. You're so damned polite."
"Yeah, well, one of us has to be," I said, then shut him up with a kiss which he was more than willing to return. The last button came undone, and I felt him shudder as my palm skirted across his belly, his skin smooth and warm.
"Please, Jimmy...,"Greg moaned as everything around us disappeared.
"What time is it?" he muttered into a pillow.
"Almost ten-thirty."
"Is that all?"
"If it makes you feel any better, it's midnight somewhere in the world." I listened to him chuckle for a bit, then turned toward the long shadow outlined by the pale glow of the alarm clock and added, "How's the leg?"
"It's starting to hurt," he grumbled, slapping around the night stand. "Why is it always so fucking dark in here?" The lamp came on, blinding us both for a moment. More groping on the night stand. "Dammit, I left my pills in the kitchen."
I reached to the floor and snagged my boxers. "Hang on, I'll get them."
He reached down and grabbed his own boxers and jeans. "I'll come with you. Putting the 'bi' in 'bisexual' makes a man thirsty for a beer."
Greg was well into his second beer, lounging barechested and sideways on the sofa with his legs stretched across my lap before he asked, "So, did you keep your promise?"
I cast a suspicious glance at him. "You tell me," I said, feeling the denim of his jeans gently graze my legs. The jeans were so I couldn't see the scar.
"Let's see, you managed not to kneel on or kick my leg. You get brownie points for that." A pause for a sip of beer. "But right now I'm too lazy to up and look in a mirror. So...?"
I just grinned and finished off my second bottle.
"Is that a yes?"
I reached over and tilted his head, gloating over my own handiwork. "Collateral damage. I guess that makes us twins now."
"Hmph. Grow a beard and maybe someday we can call it even."
"Why don't you just shave. Or would that be too easy?"
"Too easy," he answered. "Anyway, I like a man who follows through on his promises."
Raising my eyebrows, I asked, "In a personal sense or in a business sense?"
"Both, actually, but right now I'm talking personal. You're not afraid to leave your mark on me, so to speak."
"Well, it's not like you can make me take it back or anything," I said with a laugh.
"True," Greg smiled. "But you would have done it anyway, with or without your so-called promise to hold you to it."
"Are we still talking about hickeys here?"
"Hickeys and promises."
"Am I going to get kicked back into the spare bedroom?"
"Jimmy, I'm not–"
"Okay, okay. The answer is yes, I would have done it anyway."
"Really? Why?" he asked, watching me, looking genuinely intrigued.
"Because I can," I answered simply.
He grinned. "That's as good a reason as any."
"And because you liked it," I added.
"Even better."
"If you say so."
"I know so. Welcome to my world."
