But then, contrary to any expectation Spencer had for the response to his question or, for that matter, the entire conversation, Emilio lifted their joined hands to his mouth and gently kissed Spencer’s palm. Spencer was pretty sure nobody had done that to him, ever, and it made his heart flutter.
“Yeah, I am,” Emilio said. “But if you have to ask, I must not be doing a very good job of it.” Emilio grinned as he spoke and his eyes sparkled. “I’ll see what I can do to be more clear once we get to your place.”
The corners of Spencer’s lips tilted up in response. How could he not smile with this man looking at him like that?
“Oh, holy shit!” Emilio gasped as he let go of Spencer and pressed his own hand against his chest. “You have dimples.” He sighed loudly. “I think I’m in love.”
Spencer’s jaw dropped and all the color drained from his face. “What?”
Without bothering to answer his question, Emilio pointed at Spencer’s Honda and asked, “Is this your car?” Spencer nodded. “I’ll follow you to your place, okay?” Emilio didn’t wait for an answer, just dipped his face down, planted a kiss on Spencer’s cheek, and jogged back to his truck.
It was the single most perplexing exchange of Spencer’s life. He wasn’t sure what had just happened, what he was supposed to do now, or what was going to happen. With his entire body trembling, he decided to perform simple, familiar tasks: walk, open his car door, put the key in the ignition, and pull out of the parking lot.
He drove home on autopilot, his brain still in that parking lot processing his interaction with the handsome younger man who had looked at him in a completely unfamiliar way. Then he glanced at his rearview mirror and saw the big white truck following him. It was terrifying, like having a freight train barreling straight at him.
No, that was a bad analogy. With a freight train he’d know what to do—jump out of the way as fast and as far as possible. But this was a gorgeous man with an unexpectedly gentle touch. So, contrary to any logic he should have been smart enough to have or self-preservation instincts he was old enough to have developed, Spencer didn’t drive to the nearest police station or a friend’s house or a public place. Instead, with his heart slamming against his ribcage, his breath coming out at an unusually fast clip, and his dick still hard as steel, he continued to drive straight home.
EMILIO couldn’t remember the last time he had been this excited to spend time with a guy. Probably never. He never met men as classy and smart as Dr. Spencer Derdinger at the bars or online, his usual trolling venues.
Though the professor hadn’t introduced himself that way, Emilio already knew quite a bit about him after spending two weeks on campus and poking around: Spencer was a math professor, thirty-eight, gay, single, and had published many articles. Emilio had looked them up online and quickly realized he couldn’t come close to understanding any of them, which made the man who wrote them all the more impressive. Of course nobody could get a teaching job at a university without being wicked smart, so Emilio wasn’t surprised by that information.
From the moment he had laid eyes on the older man, he knew he had to have him. Short brown hair with a hint of gray at his temples, small lines next to his eyes when he squinted as he stepped out of his dark building into the bright sun, and now that adorable blush and dimpled smile. After finally getting the chance to talk to him, Emilio confirmed his suspicions about why the academic had ducked and run the first time they saw each other—Spencer was shy, not pompous. Which meant his personality did it for Emilio as much as his appearance.
It was a heady combination, the sexy maturity mixed with a sweet nervousness. Spencer was this conservative, buttoned-up little package just waiting for Emilio to ruffle it up, tear it open, and see what was hidden from the rest of the world underneath. Emilio groaned and dropped one hand to his lap, pressing the heel of his hand along his erection. He could barely wait to get to the professor’s house, where he could slam him up against the wall and fuck him blind.
Minutes later, the silver Honda pulled into the driveway of a cute, if slightly run-down little bungalow. Emilio parked his truck next to the curb and jumped out, ready to pounce on the sexy man he’d been lusting after for weeks. Then he looked, really looked, at Spencer.
The man was standing next to his car, chewing on his bottom lip, holding jingling keys with one trembling hand and his briefcase against his chest with the other. Damn, but did he seem nervous, maybe even scared. Emilio took in a deep breath, slowed his pace, and considered the possibility that maybe this was out of the norm for Spencer.