The ABO Serum

Dinner and ...

Carey's neighbor never did anything quietly. People came and went every day with ladders and various other equipment. He'd seen painters, window cleaners, maid service, professional organizers, grocery delivery, UPS and FedEx daily...as if there could be any room left in that house for more stuff, and finally, much to Carey's relief, a Goodwill truck hauling away a pile of boxes and furniture that was bigger than everything he'd brought into his own house put together. But still only a small fraction of what he'd seen go into his neighbor's.

By the time he stood outside his neighbor's door at 6:59 pm on Friday, he was filled to the brim with curiosity. It was such an uncomfortable feeling. He didn't get a chance to ring the doorbell. The audacious door was flung open as he reached for the button. Carey quickly lifted the plate of lemon bars as a barrier between them, but Daryl executed the same clever maneuver he'd used the first time they met to get Carey back in his arms and greet him with a kiss that made his toes curl.

Only this time, when he spun out of those strong arms, he was deposited further inside the house and the door was closed to any outside interlopers. Daryl's house reminded Carey of a trip his family took to Disneyland when he was a teenager. Not that Disneyland had any attractions so decadent and sensual, but when they got inside the park, the outside world disappeared. What was inside was so wholly and completely itself that he was convinced it was the whole world and nothing else existed.

In Daryl's house, every bit of light from the windows was blocked out. Candles and carefully programmed accent lighting illuminated the house inside. The inside was transformed from McMansion to Bedouin paradise. The walls were painted in deep jewel tones and hung with silky satin draperies and lush tapestries so he felt as though he were in a tent in the desert. Every inch of the original off-white carpeting was covered with beautiful and plush rugs. Crystal chandeliers of various sizes hung from the draped vaulted ceilings.

In the formal living room to the right of the foyer, unique and boldly upholstered furnishings were arranged in a welcoming array with cushions and pillows filling every gap. In the middle was a large green velvet ottoman, big enough for a man to sleep on, covered in an ivory sheepskin that seemed to glow amid the dark fabrics around it. It all smelled like vanilla, roses, and jasmine from the candles.

In the formal dining room to the left, a low table that seemed to have a blanket under the top was surrounded by more jewel-colored cushions. "It's a kotatsu, a Japanese table," Daryl supplied. "Though the setting is my own style." Around the perimeter of the room large potted plants, or maybe small potted trees, were filled with fruit. "When the motion detectors detect there aren't any people around, the grow lights turn on." Daryl pointed to concealed can lighting in the ceiling.

The dark colors and abundant fabrics continued into the kitchen/great room. This model had a half-sunken low-ceilinged side to the great room, wired extensively for media. A leftover from the den trend. Daryl indeed had it outfitted for a media room with an 84" screen and bordered on all sides by a conventional plush sectional, but all of the floor space seemed to be filled in with mattresses upholstered to match. It was a big nest accented with more jewel tone pillows and blankets in the softest chenille Carey ever ran his fingers across.

While still part of the large open great room, the kitchen was made distinct by a velvety-looking matte burgundy paint, a dark walnut stain on the old oak cabinets, and shiny new black appliances. Crystal goblets and ivory china sparkled in the accent lighting through the glass of the upper cabinets, and a high-end mixer, blender, and toaster took pride of place on the onyx marble counters beneath. No coffeemaker. That caught Carey's attention.

In the breakfast nook, a small round table was dressed in a floor-length white tablecloth and full place settings, like a high-end restaurant, with silver covers over the plates. Daryl carried the lemon bars into the kitchen and transferred them from the paper plate Carey brought to a tall crystal footed plate. Carey's humble dessert suddenly looked high-end and worthy of that table.

It was impressive what Daryl had done in this house. It was as immersive in the bathroom when Carey politely excused himself to catch his breath, as it was from the moment he entered the front door. Everything about this setting was carefully calculated for seduction, and he wasn't immune.

When Carey emerged he noticed his host was barefoot and apologized for not noticing before while scrambling to remove his shoes and run them back to the entryway. He was just too cute in Daryl's view. He came back red-faced with a sheepish look and Daryl wanted to kiss him senseless again, but the food was waiting.

The merlot was a good fit with lamb curry and blushing cutie pie. The lemon bars finished the meal off just right. Well, almost just right. He wasn't quite done, but nibbling on Carey's fingertips as he fed Daryl the last bite, that was it. That was the just-right finish. The warmth of spicy food and good alcohol put them both in a mood to succumb to the sensual spell of the house.

When Carey started moving his fingertips away from Daryl's greedy lips, they were caught instead by firm hands and the lips moved upward, kissing his knuckles, and then his hand, and then the inside of his wrist. A long finger stroked upward from his wrist inside the cuff of his dress shirt in a distressingly intimate move.

"I don't know what's going on," Carey confessed. "I've never felt like this before."

Daryl's hand stilled. "Do you dislike it?"

"N...no. I don't think so."

"Do you want me to stop?"

"NO!" It came out louder than Carey intended. Daryl chuckled low and Carey seemed to feel that rumble in his own belly.

"You're such a surprise, Carey Andrews," Daryl's seductive whisper was like a spell, reeling Carey in. "I want you like I've never wanted anything or anybody else." He was on one knee beside Carey in another instant having never released his hand. His left hand. OMG, where was this going?

"I don't like sex!" Carey blurted out.