Ruffling The Peacocks Feathers(11)
Lamar knew that once Rueben accepted he was a shifter, accepted his peacock, and they bonded, he wouldn’t have to control himself. Until then, he had to figure out how to resist the urge to find out if the man bottomed. The guy was obviously—if the way he’d pounced on Lamar was any indicator—a top. As long as they kept it that way, even if Lamar bit Rueben in the heat of the moment, and he had a funny feeling he would, they’d be just fine.
Chapter Five
Rueben waited impatiently for Lamar to return. Of course, now that he was beginning to understand the slender man, he couldn’t show his impatience. He’d never been good at waiting for things, but even he—a tactically challenged jock—knew he’d have to figure out some kind of strategy for getting into this skittish man’s pants.
It didn’t matter that any idiot could see Lamar wanted him. Something must have happened in this guy’s past. A bad relationship perhaps? Either way, that he’d been burned, and feared being hurt or rejected again, was apparent. He just hid it behind his uptight exterior. Rueben would have to prove that he could be an understanding guy…because he really looked forward to rumpling the man a bit.
To that end, he prepared to seduce his skittish love interest with a soothing hand. The fact that he’d never tried that before didn’t escape him. Normally, if a guy played hard to get, he’d let them go, rationalizing that there were far too many fish in the sea to worry about drama.
Except, this time, he couldn’t let it go. He wanted—needed, even—to see what lay between them.
Resting his back against the headboard, Rueben carefully laid his still throbbing leg on an extra pillow. He searched through his backpack for the extra strength Ibuprofen, grateful Lamar had left the bag within easy reach. Then, he grabbed the information book and chose a couple restaurant options.
When Lamar returned, looking nervous as hell, Rueben restricted his greeting to a welcoming smile. Watching him wrap several pieces of ice in a hand towel from the bathroom, he commented, “I appreciate you doing this. Thank you.”
Lamar paused in his actions and looked at him. A confused smile curved his lips. “Of course.”
Rueben frowned when the other man focused on his leg and carefully wrapped his booted foot in a towel, added some ice in strategic locations, then added another layer of towels to hold in the cold.
Why do I feel like I’m missing something? Why does he act as if it’s his job to take care of me?
Clearing his expression quickly, Rueben held up the folder. “I noticed there was Chinese in the other room. Are you even hungry?”
“Yes. I didn’t eat much before getting interrupted,” Lamar told him. “Did you find something that strikes your fancy?”
“The Chinese smelled really good in there,” he admitted. His stomach actually growled at the memory. Chuckling, he handed the book to Lamar. “Order whatever. I’m not picky.” A memory hit him. “Wait, your buddy Sam was the one who picked it up. I remember him carrying the cartons in. Do they deliver to the motel?”
Lamar shrugged. “If not, I’ll text Kontra’s partner, Tim. He’s helping Adam paint his shop’s walls, but planning to return about now. He can pick it up.”
Rueben didn’t know either man, but he was a little surprised to hear the leather-clad biker was gay. Huh. Sometimes, ya just can’t tell. He listened to Lamar order food, giving him a thumbs up after asking if they delivered.
With his eyelids at half-mast, Rueben swept his gaze over Lamar. He wanted to strip the guy’s carefully buttoned short sleeve blue shirt from his body and discover if the muscles beneath were as lean and defined as he surmised. He’d bury his hands in the man’s carefully styled blond hair as he plundered Lamar’s lush full lips. Finally, he’d shimmy down Lamar’s body and unbutton the carefully pressed blue jeans with his teeth. Is Lamar a boxer or brief kind of guy?
His shaft filling at his imaginings, Rueben let out a soft sigh through barely parted lips. He knew if Lamar looked, he’d see the tent in his shorts. It wasn’t as if the loose material of his sweats hid anything.
Lamar disconnected the call and, nostrils flaring as he stared at Rueben’s crotch, placed the phone absently on the nightstand. He licked his lips, his eyes heating as his breathing sped up.
“We, uh,” he paused and cleared his throat. “We have twenty-five minutes.”
Rueben could think of all kinds of ways to fill those twenty-five minutes, but then he remembered his resolve to seduce the man slowly. Placing his desires on the back burner, Rueben held out his hand and suggested, “Come up here, Lamar. Tell me where you call home.”