Marry Me, G. Hauser [ereader for textbooks .txt] 📗

on his bed and said,

“You can put your bag in here.” Braxton stripped off his suit

from the day before and hung it up to take to the cleaners. “I

need a shower and shave.”

“A shower. Grr.”

At the sensual response, Braxton spun around to see Fabian.

In his domain. His bedroom. A place where he’d never invited

another soul previously.

Once Braxton was down to his briefs, he crossed the room to

Fabian and touched his arm. “I must really like you.”

“Why?” Fabian appeared amused.

“No one’s ever come over before.”

“No one.” Fabian tilted his head. “Ever?”

“Ever.” Braxton headed to the dresser and tossed clean socks

and briefs on the bed, then had a look at his tuxedo which had

come back from the cleaners and was still in its plastic wrap.

“Not even…” Fabian stopped himself mid-sentence.

Braxton looked over his shoulder at him. “Not even?”

“Never mind.”

Curious what he was going to say, Braxton approached him.

“No. Go ahead.”

“I was going to say, not even family, but then I realized how

inappropriate that was.”

“No. No family. Just repairmen and my cleaning lady.”

Braxton headed to the bathroom where he stripped off his briefs

and started the shower, getting his shaving gel and razor out of

the medicine cabinet.

“Braxton.”

He turned to see Fabian leaning on the doorframe, a look of

sorrow on his handsome face. “I don’t need pity.” Braxton

snarled in reflex, and stood over his sink to lather his jaw.

In the mirror’s reflection he watched Fabian vanish, then

reappear naked, holding his toiletry bag.

“We’ll clean up, get into our tuxes and I’ll have the chauffeur

pick us up. There’s a pre-party gala near the premiere where we

can eat and get a drink.”

“Great. Naomi said she’d try to find us at the actual

premiere.”

“That won’t be easy. But we can try.”

The steam began to fill the room as Braxton shaved quickly,

torn between his instinct to keep everyone away from him and

his desire for a good man in his life.

He nicked his chin and swore, then rinsed the razor under the

tap and entered the shower, washing off the foam from his jaw

and neck and reaching for the shampoo.

~

Fabian removed his razor and used Braxton’s shaving gel, all

the while trying not to analyze everything Braxton said and did.

He finished shaving before the mirror was completely steamed

up and moved the shower door back, seeing Braxton rinsing his

hair. “May I join you?”

“You may.” Braxton made room for Fabian and allowed him

to wet down.

After Fabian soaked his hair he looked for the shampoo and

caught Braxton staring at him, a tiny trail of blood was running

from a spot on his chin. Fabian touched it gently. “Cut

yourself?”

“I usually do when I rush. I’m the master of self-inflicted

injury.”

At the sadness in Braxton’s eyes, Fabian went for him,

walking him backwards so Braxton’s back was against the far

wall of the tub. They touched lips lightly and then Fabian was

able to urge Braxton into a more sensuous kiss. Knowing they

didn’t have a lot of time, Fabian used soap, which smelled of

herbs and musk, and lathered up his hands and groin, then he

reached for Braxton and made sure his cock and balls were

coated with the slippery suds as well.

As Braxton watched, Fabian held both their cocks together

and began fisting them. Braxton moaned and rested his head

back on the tile wall, spreading his legs.

Fabian stared down at the sight and with both hands he

gripped their cocks together tightly, jerking hard and fast for a

quick release.

Another deep growling moan came from Braxton and he held

onto Fabian’s arms and allowed Fabian to service them both.

“Come, you gorgeous fucker!” Fabian was close and wanted

Braxton to come with him.

Just as he said it, Braxton’s cock pulsated and his cum

sprayed out onto Fabian’s soaked skin and down his knuckles.

Fabian’s knees felt weak at the sight and he too came, pulling

hard on them both to prolong the pleasure.

Braxton collapsed against Fabian and held him tight, pressing

his face against Fabian’s neck. “What would I do without you?”

Fabian knew how hard this emotional ‘coming out’ of

Braxton’s feelings was. Probably just as difficult for Braxton as

coming out of the closet had been for other men.

“You’ll never have to find that out. I signed a coaster.”

Braxton looked at Fabian and they both laughed.

~

Standing in front of the mirror, Braxton straightened his

bowtie and frowned at the tiny grazing he gave his chin. It had

stopped bleeding but he didn’t like seeing a mark on his face.

Warmth engulfed him from behind.

Braxton looked into the reflection at his handsome man in a

black formal tuxedo.

“We look like the top off a gay wedding cake.”

Braxton smiled shyly. “Oh, before I forget. I want to give you

a heads up about our chauffeur.”

“Oh? One of your one dates?”

“Yes. He’s a worse whore than I am.”

“Was.”

“Was.” Braxton turned to face Fabian and fussed with his

bowtie and lapels, then kissed him and continued getting ready,

checking his phone and making sure he had everything he

needed. “He’ll try for a three-way. He’s notorious for getting

men in bed.”

“You want to?”

Braxton spun around, sinking inside. “No.”

“Good.” Fabian appeared relieved and so was Braxton. He

approached Fabian and held his waist. “Look, I know it’s only

been a week, but…is this it?”

“Is this what?” Fabian again seemed slightly upset at

Braxton’s terrible lack of communication skills.

“You? Me? Am I off the market? Are you?”

Fabian appeared stunned. “Do you want to be off the

market?”

“Fuck yes!” Braxton startled Fabian with his volume, so he

rubbed his face and sighed. “I seriously need a shrink and some

meds.”

“No. Come here.” Fabian touched Braxton’s shoulder and

drew him close again. “I want nothing more than to give this

partnership with you a try.”

“Really? Me? I’m so fucked up.”

“No. You’re not. But your self-criticism is unbelievable.”

“I need a drink.” In humiliation at the truth in that, Braxton

turned away from Fabian and left the bedroom, headed to the

kitchen and his booze selection.

The phone rang, which was actually the condo intercom. It

had a slightly different ringtone that Braxton recognized. As he

poured a shot of vodka, Braxton called to Fabian, “That’s Scott. I

don’t want him up here. Tell him we’ll be right down.”

“Okay.” Fabian entered the kitchen where a landline phone

was located.

“You want a drink?”

“Sure.” Fabian picked up the phone and said, “Hello?