As a free-lance photographer, Mal Donnelly is a complete professional, and doesn’t bat a lash at any assignment. Even the special St. Patrick’s Day photo-shoot on the set of a gay pornographic film. But just the sight of the film’s star, Alejandro Marroquin, is enough to turn him into a tongue-tied fool. When Alejandro asks him to dinner, Mal knows it truly is his lucky day.
Alejandro doesn’t date. With his career, it is difficult to have any sort of real relationship. But he is captivated by Mal, the soft-spoken, talented photographer, from the moment they met, six months prior to the St. Patrick’s Day shoot. Still covered in green paint from the photo-shoot, he gathers up his courage and asks Mal to dinner. Alejandro can only hope that their mutual desire can overcome the obstacle of his career. It isn’t easy being with the hottest porn star in town.
...“So I like nice things.” He set down his glass and edged a little closer. “Why does that mean I can’t like the way you smile? Or notice how strong your hands are?” Before Mal could protest, Alejandro reached out and captured the one not holding the wine. He spread the fingers out, then caressed the back of them, lingering for a moment on the firm knuckles. “You sell yourself short. I would never have asked you out if I didn’t want to spend time with you.”
Mal watched Alejandro’s fingers as they continued to move across the back of his hand. “I can’t help but believe you when you touch me like that.”
“I guess that means I shouldn’t stop, or you’ll walk out on our date.”
“I don’t think I’ll walk out, but maybe it’s best not to risk it.”
With a smile, Alejandro laced their fingers together, dropping their hands to rest between them. “It’ll be awfully hard to drive like this,” he teased.
“I have an automatic. I can drive with one hand. But…if you’re worried about my ability to drive like this, I don’t mind staying in.”
Bonita was expecting them, but after all his nervous calls to her that day, he didn’t think she would be surprised if he didn’t show up. And he rather liked the idea of having a quiet night in. It told him a lot about Mal; it said he wasn’t interested in parading Alejandro like a trophy.
“I think I’d like that,” Mal said softly. “A lot. Not that I’m not looking forward to eating at Bonita’s. I am. But…” He brought their linked hands up to his face and brushed his lips across Alejandro’s knuckles. “I’d like to keep you to myself, too.”
His cock jerked at the slight contact. “You know, if you brought that poetry, I’m pretty much a goner here.”
“Damn. I left the poetry and the portfolio at home.” He kept his mouth close to Alejandro’s hand, letting his lips brush against the skin as he spoke. “Do you do anything like that? Anything creative?”
His answer came automatically, though his gaze was riveted by the sight of Mal’s lips on his skin. “I draw a little bit, but nothing serious.”
“What do you draw?” Mal’s breath was impossibly warm. “People? Still life? Landscapes?”
“People. Parts of them, at least. Hands. Ears. Mouths.” He had to swallow. His throat had never felt so dry before. “I’m not good at putting them all together.”
Mal’s mouth traveled farther down Alejandro’s hand. “When I first started taking photos, I stuck with pictures of my dog, Sparky. I think he was the most photographed dog of all time.” He slid over on the couch, closing the inches between them. “Can I see your sketches…later?”
On a set, it would have been the perfect segue into sex, and Alejandro would have dropped to his knees, pulled out the guy’s package, and gone to town.
This wasn’t a set. But that didn’t mean every inch of him wasn’t aching to climb between Mal’s legs and devour everywhere his mouth could reach.
He settled for lifting his free hand and skimming a fingertip across Mal’s lower lip. “I’m really not very good,” he repeated.
Mal caught his finger between his lips, and his tongue darted out to lick the tip before he released him. He set his glass of wine on the coffee table, then ran his free hand up Alejandro’s arm. “Trust me. Nothing you draw can be worse than Sparky: A Study in Black and White, Part Two. But if you’d rather not, I’ll understand.”
He would, too. That was part of what Alejandro liked about Mal. That, and the sinuous glide of his palm over Alejandro’s biceps. Even though his shirt was lightweight, beads of sweat were already beginning to drip down the back of his collar, made worse by the obvious bulge in Mal’s crotch. He felt like he was going to jump out of his own skin, and all Mal had done was touch him. What would it be like if they were in bed? Skin to skin. Cock to cock. His legs wrapped around Mal’s hips as Mal slowly pumped in and out of his ass.
He shuddered at the imagery. The darkening of Mal’s eyes said that the tremor had not gone unnoticed.
“We should probably order some dinner, if we’re going to stay in,” Alejandro said in a vain attempt to regain control.
Mal nodded, though he didn’t release Alejandro’s hand right away, and Alejandro didn’t really want him to. “Are you in the mood for anything in particular?”