Kyle answered the door in a tank top that wasn’t clothing so much as decoration, and beat-up, loose jeans that sat low. Colt got a kiss right there in the doorway. “Oh, so good to see you.”
“Yes. Lord yes.” He was a little dizzy with relief that he was here.
“Come in. Come in, baby.” Kyle linked arms with him and led him through the hall and into the kitchen. “Do you want some coffee? You really look exhausted.”
“I do, please, and to rest my fingers for a bit.”
“You worked like a dog this week.” Kyle poured him a strong cup of coffee from a carafe on the counter, then picked up the hand he wasn’t drinking with and massaged his palm with what seemed like practiced thumbs.
He stared for a second, his mind trying to understand what he was feeling. Did it hurt? Did it feel like sex? What?
“Hurts? Come on, sit down.” Kyle led him over to the little café table and sat him down, then pulled up a chair opposite him.
“I don’t know. I don’t know what it feels like.” He sat. Boom. Okay. “How’s you, cher?”
“I’m good. I’m a very satisfied kind of tired.” Kyle smiled for him and just kept on working the tendons along his thumb and up the outside of his hand. “This should feel like someone working your worries away. Never had a massage before?”
“No. I knew they were tender, but not so much.” His fingers curled as Kyle worked out a sore spot, and he jerked as the tension popped like a sprung guitar string.
Kyle let him go with the sudden movement but went right back to it, more gently as he relaxed. “How hungry are you? You want something?”
“Cher, my belly done forgot eating. Later, hmm?”
“Yeah, I hear that. You want to cook tomorrow? It’s later than I expected; we could shop in the morning. I think you should let me work on your shoulders and your back some; they’ve got to be as tense as your hands.”
“I can cook tomorrow. I…. Lord, cher, you make me dizzy.” He didn’t know if it was selfish to say yes, please, touch me.
Kyle kissed him softly. “Tomorrow, then. Come on, let’s get you stretched out.” Kyle led him upstairs to the bedroom and started undressing him slowly, fingers moving over buttons, fabric, and skin like he was something precious.
He closed his eyes and inhaled, filling his lungs with Kyle’s scent. Lord, that was just right.
“Other than obviously exhausting, did recording go well today?” Kyle voice was soft and had a soothing lilt in it.
“Jus’ fine. Lots of good music. I laid down a few solo tracks they could use if they needed them later too.”
“You work hard, don’t you? No wonder you’re so tired.” Kyle turned down the bed and gave it a pat. “Stretch out on your tummy, and I’ll work on your back a little. You can just rest. Talk if you want, don’t if you don’t. I’m here either way.”
“You had a good couple days, cher?” He rolled over and found himself a comfortable spot.
“I did. We’ve got a show opening in a couple of weeks, and it’s getting serious around the theater now. This is my favorite part of the process—pulling it together, focusing in on the details—but it’s real work. We have some amazing dancers, though. Sometime you’ll have to come see.”
“I would love that.” He loved to see people living out their passions.
Kyle’s fingers were slippery when they touched his back, and they roamed over his skin for a bit, warming it with just light pressure at first. “Me too. You’ll have to let me know if you get some time away from the studio in the next couple of weeks.”
“I got time after Tuesday. You let me know.” He blinked slowly, mesmerized by the caresses. “Feels good.”
“I will. Depending on how rehearsals go, maybe Thursday or Friday.” Kyle started in with long strokes with flat hands and heavy pressure. “So, it’s great that you’re taking a room with Timmy. Does that mean you’re in town for a few more weeks?”
“Uh-huh. I like the work, the place. I want to stay about.” He liked Kyle. A lot. Enough to stay a bit.
“I probably don’t need to tell you I like that you’re ‘staying about.’ But in case there’s any question, I’m glad to hear it.” Kyle’s thumbs dug into the muscle across his shoulders.
He had intended to answer, but all he could do was groan. Damn, that was better than sex.
Kyle chuckled softly, the sound warm. “Good right there, huh?” Kyle kept it up, across his shoulders and slowly up the sides of his neck, working every little knot and every bit of tension those fingers stumbled over.
He might have spoken; he might have just moaned. Hell, he didn’t know. He might have told Kyle every one of his secrets.