some sort of indication from Tucker about what he wanted, but so far it had only been kisses that left Gerome breathless.
Tucker hadn’t moved either, and Gerome wondered what he was thinking. Maybe he was just waiting for an invitation, though Tucker didn’t seem shy about what he wanted.
God, this was confusing. Gerome wanted to do this right. He opened the door and climbed out without saying a word, his thoughts swirling. Glancing over the top of the truck, he waited for Tucker and then walked him inside to his door. “I should probably say good night.” His head spun, and part of him wanted to just go inside so he could try to figure some shit out. That was what he did. Back in Detroit, Richard was the manager, the guy in charge, Terrance was the muscle, and Gerome was the idea man. It was his promotions, hype, and forward thinking that helped get them where they were.
“I should make sure that Cheryl and Joshie are okay,” Tucker whispered.
Gerome nodded. That message was clear enough for him. Tucker drew closer and stood on his toes to kiss him before opening the door and going inside.
Gerome’s apartment was dark, but he could see it was still furnished with the drab items the government provided. He hadn’t bothered to change much, especially not out in the main room. The chairs and sofa were beige, and the carpet was gray. Gerome hadn’t put up any pictures of his own, so only bland, abstract pieces that engendered little interest hung on the walls. The apartment didn’t feel like home, and it never really would. It was a place to live, a roof over his head and little more.
Gerome tossed his keys on the counter and pulled open the refrigerator door. He hadn’t eaten dinner and figured he could make a sandwich before relaxing in front of something inane on television. He needed a distraction to take his thoughts off Tucker, who seemed to consume them.
He’d just settled on the sofa with a beer and his sandwich and had turned on the television when someone knocked on his door. Gerome checked his phone and grabbed a beer on his way to the door, figuring it was Terrance. “Hey, I was wondering if you’d—” He paused when he saw that Tucker was standing on the mat. “Hey…,” he said softly, peering across at the closed apartment door. “Is everything okay?” He set the beer on the counter.
Tucker nodded. “Cheryl is getting Joshie ready for bed, and then she’s going to go to bed, and….” He leaped.
Gerome hesitated a fraction of a second before catching Tucker in his arms. Tucker wrapped his legs around Gerome’s waist, and damned if Gerome didn’t find his hands filled with the globes of Tucker’s butt.
He kissed hard, and Gerome nearly lost his balance before backing slowly inside. Tucker pushed the door closed and resumed plundering his mouth. Heat rolled off Tucker, and Gerome’s body reacted instantly. His pants were too damned tight, and his cock ached just having Tucker in his arms. “Are you sure about this?” Gerome had to ask. Before he probably would have taken without thinking, but this was Tucker, and he needed to know that this was truly what Tucker wanted.
“God, yes!” Tucker groaned as Gerome massaged his butt and made his way to the bedroom, the food on the coffee table forgotten in the excitement of the feast right in front of him.
The one extravagance that Gerome had allowed himself was his bedding. It was rich, royal blue, thick, soft, and plush. He laid Tucker on the bed, the duvet puffing around him as if it, too, wanted to touch Tucker.
“Wow, this is nice,” Tucker breathed, still holding him around the neck. Gerome ran his hands under Tucker’s shirt, pushing the fabric upward, exposing his lightly dusted belly to Gerome’s hungry gaze. He leaned forward, burying his nose against Tucker’s skin, inhaling the rich, musky, masculine scent of him, letting it work its magic in the excited recesses of his mind, stoking fires that already blazed hot.
He ran his hand over Tucker’s firm yet soft belly, teasing his way upward, taking the fabric right along. A pink nipple slipped from under the shirt, and he flicked it with his tongue. Tucker moaned softly, so he did it again, teasing the bud with his tongue until it was firm.
Gerome worked Tucker’s shirt off, basking in the glow of beautiful honey-warm skin. God, Tucker was stunning. Gerome