Double Standards // ziam

Chapter 7

The warm closeness that had developed between them as they sailed back was still enfolding them as they dined by lantern light on the cedar deck suspended out beyond the bluff.

"Don't bother," Liam said quietly when Zayn stood with the intention of clearing the china and crystal from the table. "The housekeeper will take care of it in the morning." He picked up a bottle of Grand Marnier and poured some liqueur into two fragile glasses. He handed him one, then leaned back in his chair. Raising his glass to his lips, he contemplated him over the rim.

Zayn rolled the stem of his glass between his fingers, trying to ignore the atmosphere of expectation that was hanging over them. His time was running out; Liam had satisfied their physical hunger, and now he was lazily preparing to satisfy their sexual hunger. He could see it in the way his possessive gaze lingered on him as he sat across from him, and in his warmly intimate smile when he spoke to him.

He raised his glass and took a fortifying swallow of the orange-and-cognac drink. Any moment Liam would stand up and take him inside. He glanced up as he lit a cigarette. In the flickering glow of the lantern, his dark handsome features seemed shadowy and almost predatory. A chill that was part fright, part excitement danced up his spine.

"Are you cold?" he asked softly.

Zayn quickly shook his head, afraid that he would immediately suggest they go in. Then he realized he must have seen him shiver, and he added, "I mean I was a little chilly just then, but it's so nice out here I can't bear to go in yet."

Several minutes later Liam stubbed out his cigarette and moved his chair back from the table. Zayn's heart lurched. He drained his glass and held it toward him. "I'd like a little more."

He saw a flicker of surprise in his expression, but he obligingly poured more Grand Marnier into both their glasses, then he lazed back in his chair again, openly watching him.

Zayn was too jumpy to either meet his gaze or endure it. He stood up, smiled shyly and walked over to the edge of the deck, gazing across the black lake at the lights twinkling in the hills. He wanted to please him always, and in all ways, but what if he failed tonight? Liam was so alarmingly and blatantly experienced that his inexperience might seem like a nuisance to him. He knew he was tallying and he did not want him to wait any longer but he could not help his nerves.

Liam's chair scraped against the wooden deck, and Zayn heard him approach, stopping right behind him. He put his hands on his shoulders and he jumped. "You're cold," he murmured, drawing him back against his chest and wrapping his arms around him for warmth. "Is that better?" he asked his lips brushing his temple.

The imprint of his legs and thighs pressing against him from the back seemed to rob Zayn of the power of speech. He nodded, and then goose bumps took over his skin.

"You're shivering." His hands shifted to his waist, and he turned him with gentle insistence toward the house. "Let's go inside where it's warm."

Zayn was so nervous that he didn't realize the sliding glass doors Liam led him to, were not the ones that opened into the living room but the ones that led straight to a luxurious bedroom decorated in shades of caramel, white and brown. He stopped in his tracks, his eyes on the huge king-size bed across the room. He heard Liam close the glass door with a final, deathlike thud, and his whole body tensed.

His arm slid around his waist from behind, drawing his rigid form against him. With his other hand he caressed his neck slightly tilting his head to the side, exposing his skin. Zayn's breathing became shallow and rapid as his lips touched his nape then drifted tantalizingly toward his ear, while his hands began moving lazily over his waist, going down...