He kept looking at me as I digested his words.

"I wouldn't go so far as ‘love' yet but..." he said, pausing, "believe me; I know how it feels and it's getting there. And fast."

And now, for the first time since I knew him, Ross Forester actually looked away but when I didn't say anything and just stared at him, he smiled at me and waved a hand in front of my eyes.

"Ehm... Mark?" I snapped out of it when he spoke. "Did that come as a surprise to you?"

"Yeah, kinda... this is going so fast. It's like a rollercoaster ride," I answered.
I cleared my throat a few times when he watched me for a long time with an intense look in his eyes.
"And now you expect me to say something similar?"

"No," he answered, shaking his head. "I just put it out there so you know that I'm coming for you. I always say what I feel. I hope you feel the same but I won't ask you to say it because you think I want to hear it."
I grinned at him shyly.

"Well, I think I kinda feel the same way."
I felt warm when the corner of his mouth lifted up.

He slowly got up and moved around the table to where I was sitting, taking the mug from my hand. I looked sideways at him and sent him a slight grin. I'd never done this sort of thing before; admitting feelings toward someone... quite frankly it didn't feel all that comfortable. Who the hell liked feeling this way; nervous, scared and yet exhilarated, all at the same time? I felt like throwing up. And how was it possible, so fast? He made me look at him as he gently forced my chin up with a finger. Then he smiled and took a deep breath.

"I was hoping you'd feel the same. I mean, I was pretty sure and you're right; it is going very fast. I don't want to pressure you into anything..."

"You're not," I replied.

"Good," he whispered.
He tilted his head a bit and slowly closed his lips over mine, tentatively.

The kiss was different. Previously, they'd been the lusty kind, hot, erotic... sexual. This one had none of those ingredients. This one was slow in building up, warm, exploring and definitely something to get used to. It was a bit awkward after we let go of each other, and I coughed, he coughed; heck, the whole damn loft seemed to cough.

"Okay, was that as awkward for you as it was for me?" I said, blowing out a deep breath as I leaned back against the couch.
But the weird stomach feeling subsided quickly. There was still some there, though. I took my mug, to have something to do with my hands.

"You have no idea how," Ross smiled, shaking his head. "I wasn't at all sure how you'd react, so I just put it out there, to get it over with."

"I had no idea how to react," I admitted, taking a sip from my coffee.
Ross reached for it and set it back down on the table.

"Enough talk," he whispered.

**************

I took him on a tour of the loft, showing him the parts he hadn't seen yet, after we'd ordered takeout and had dinner. I found out a few things about Ross that evening that I hadn't expected. For instance that he liked to touch, be close. Not overly or annoyingly and he didn't try to take advantage, which I appreciated. I think a lot of guys would have tried something when I showed him the bedroom upstairs. But now that we had admitted that there was more than just physical attraction, he felt free to go a bit further, hugging me and sometimes stealing kisses.

It was weird, but I became nervous when the clock struck midnight and he looked at his watch. Up to then, we had talked, goofed around a bit and got to know a bit more about each others' life. I found out that he actually didn't live alone; his mother also resided in Castle Pines, which explained why she had picked up the phone. In turn, I told him about my mom, the diner and bits about my dad that I remembered. I began to feel comfortable with him around, stole a kiss or two myself and I could tell that he enjoyed being there; that and the fooling around, of course. I enjoyed it equally as much.

But when midnight came, like I said, I became nervous, and he picked up on it.

"I think it's time that I go home," he whispered, when the clock finally went silent.
I looked to the stairs and then back to him, and my heart was thudding in my throat when he followed my gaze.

"Do you..."
What the hell was wrong with me; we already had slept together.

"Yes," he said, smiling, "I do. But I can't. I have to get up early tomorrow. Make that today. You may have the day off tomorrow, but I don't."
He didn't hide his regret.
"Believe me; there is nothing else in the world I want, other than to stay, but I have to go."

"Okay," I answered.
Right... this was nuts. Now I felt disappointed? I was blowing hot and cold all over the place here.

"Hmm... you could try a little harder, you know," he said, quasi insulted.
But he smiled and rose up from the floor, then reached for my hand and pulled me up.
"Listen... it's an hour's drive back, change clothes, drive back to the office... I'd have to get up at 4am to make it."
He lowered his head and brushed my lips with his. Then I thought that enough was enough.

"Or you could stay," I said, "The office is five minutes from here, so you wouldn't have to get up so early. Buy a new suit on the way to work; like my mom said, you're loaded for crying out loud."
A rush of warm breath slammed in my face when he unexpectedly began to laugh and I gave him a grin.
"Besides... you can't drive; you drank too many beers."

"Ah, so it was a plot to get me to stay here, huh?" he said, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at me.
He looked cute, doing that. Then he grinned and gave me a kiss.
"Okay... it worked. Are you sure..."
I kissed him back.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Now go up there and do your ‘thang'," I said, "I'll clean up a bit here first, okay?"
He nodded and softly patted my behind.

"Hurry up." I grinned and watched him go up, taking two steps at a time.

**************

It might sound strange but amazingly enough, nothing happened that first night. I didn't stay downstairs all that long; maybe ten minutes? I cleared the salon table and took everything to the kitchen. But then I went up, only to find him in bed, on my side I might add, and already sleeping! At first I thought he was playing with me so when I undressed, I kept watching his face. But he didn't even once take a peek. He'd hung his clothes on a chair in the corner, where I usually put mine, but they were put up so neatly that I just dumped mine on the floor; I'd find them in the morning. I went into the bathroom and brushed my teeth, and then crawled into bed, expecting him to make a move; all I got was a soft snore. I couldn't help but start to laugh and watched him for a bit. But my eyes soon became too heavy and I fell asleep as well.

CHAPTER *18*

When I woke up, he was already gone, but I had slept in late. It was around eleven when I finally brought myself to getting up. There was a surprise waiting in the kitchen when I came in; all the dirty dishes, glasses and cutlery were gone. Well, not gone; Ross had stacked them on the counter because he didn't know where they all went, but they were clean. I just put the last of it away when the phone rang and I picked up.

"Hello?"

"Finally!" I heard. It sounded impatient. "It's Ross."

"What do you mean ‘finally'?" I asked, grinning like an idiot as I hopped onto the counter. "Did you call before?"

"Only three times," he said, and it sounded like he was smiling. "Sleep well?"

"Like a baby."

"You looked like one," he said, his voice turning intimate. "All rolled up like a fetus."

"Shut up," I replied, rolling my eyes. "Thanks for the dishes."

"You're welcome," he said, "feel like making them dirty again?"
The way he said it; he could even make dishes sound erotic.

"In what way?" I asked, suspiciously, and he laughed softly.

"As in lunch."

"That depends... are you going to fall asleep again?"
The only answer I got was a deep, threatening growl.
"Because I tell ya... I was hot and ready to go last night but..." I exaggerated.
In person I might be a chickenshit but on the phone... that was safe enough.

"I'll be hearing this for a while, won't I?" he asked, resigned.

"Yeah," I said slowly. "A long, long time."

"So can I come over?" he asked, laughing.

"Sure. I'll see you at one?"

"A bit sooner, please," he replied. "I think I need some making up time as well."
That last sounded soft and promising.

**************

The intercom buzzed at a few minutes before noon and I pressed the button to let him come up, opening the door slightly so that he could come in while I went back to the kitchen to continue making lunch. Not that much, really, just a salad and sandwiches; probably not what he was used to. I almost jumped a foot in the air when two hands suddenly snuck around my middle from behind; he'd come in so quietly that I hadn't even heard the door or his footsteps on the wooden floors.

"Hi," he whispered in my ear.
I half turned around and received a kiss on my cheek and when I caught a glimpse of a beige jacket, I completely turned.
He grinned and spread his arms.

"Like it? I followed your advice and bought it on the way to work."

Was he kidding? Like it? He looked downright hot! The jacket and pants were beige, and he wore it with a matching tie that he had loosened a bit. He'd also opened the top button of a brightly white shirt, also new. I've always liked to look at a man in a suit; it's a fetish of mine. On the internet I frequently watch pictures of men, usually in the suit & tie category, and I'm not afraid to admit that I occasionally satisfied myself from the pictures. Watching them turned me on and I didn't need to see them engaged in sexual activity, just looking at them got me going in a matter of minutes. Several of my previous, let's call them ‘romantic entanglements' had been with guys who I had met in a bar which the office crowd frequented. It makes me horny and seeing Ross now, yeah... it worked. It's not instant hornyness or something like that but I definitely get receptive to urges of the frisky kind.

I took the tie between my fingers, stroking the soft fabric with my thumb and softly pulled him closer. Ross tilted his head and smiled. I got up to my toes and kissed him, letting one hand slide into his neck and the other around his middle. He opened his lips and softly sucked on my tongue as I deepened the kiss a bit. When he lifted his head he looked downright pleased.

"Glad to know you approve," he said, "what's for lunch?"
I turned to finish the preparations and he set his hands on either side of me on the counter, looking over my shoulder while brushing his lips in my neck.

"Salad, sandwiches and... ehm, stop it, you're distracting me."

He softly laughed and went for my ear, touching it with his tongue, which caused me to grab the counter. Damn, that felt good. I lifted my chin and leaned back. He snuck an arm around my middle, pulling me against him.

"Mmmm..." he hummed, pushing with his hips. "I thought about you all morning."
I smiled and brought up my hand to let my fingers slide into his hair.

"I wish I could say the same but I was asleep like a rock."
He made an insulted sounds and bit into my earlobe, hard enough to make it painful.
"Au..."

He let his mouth travel up and down the side of my neck, leaving a trail of tiny bites, placing his other hand on my lower abdomen. Then he let it slide down the front of my jeans and palmed my rapidly growing arousal.

"I'm hard as a rock," he whispered.
Lunch was going to have to wait.

**********

"Jesus," he sighed, a couple of times, about an hour later.

"Stop calling me that," I said, caressing his arm, which was still trembling from the strain he had put on it not ten minutes before.
He grinned down at me and slowly lowered himself down for a kiss.

"That was... incredible," he whispered, resting his forehead against mine.

"Mmm," I said, making a so-so gesture. "I've had better."
He laughed disbelievingly and let himself fall beside me.

"You...did...not...just...say...that," he said, emphasizing each word with each pant.
I grinned and put my arms up, shoving my hands underneath my head, and I sighed contently.
He rolled onto his side and propped an elbow up, letting his head rest on it. All he did was watch me with this slow, sexy smile on his face.

"I feel like I've been run over by a truck," I sighed, giving him a lopsided grin.

"What a coincidence," he said, winking at me, "I feel like a truck who just ran you over."
I was about to stump him when the phone rang, downstairs. I reached for the phone on the nightstand, one of which I had the sound disabled, and picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hello, ‘Norcross, I mean Mark'. Is my son there? This is Sofia Forester."