Love Him Wild

by E M Lindsey

  “We’d love to,” Parker interrupted. He looked back at Ronan. “Right? I mean, we can spare some time. The Market starts on Friday night. We can do it then.”

  “Perfect,” Jonas said. “I’ll let you get back to your dinner.”

  “Have a good night, Jonas. It was great to meet you.” Parker lifted his stump in farewell, and Jonas didn’t miss a beat as he returned a wave with his long-fingered hand.

  Ronan swallowed past a lump in his throat, then leaned forward when Jonas was out the door. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Helping,” Parker said. He tore a piece of his burrito off with his fork, then shoved the bite into his cheek, making it bulge. “I don’t know what his game is, but I don’t know that he’s got one, either.”

  “Yeah,” Ronan breathed out. “I can’t read him.”

  Parker hummed, then shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe you can. Maybe this whole genuinely kind person isn’t an act.”

  “Then why do this?” Ronan scrubbed a hand down his face. “It doesn’t make sense, Parker.”

  Parker gave him a sudden, intense look, cocking his head to the side. “Trust me on this?”

  It was easy as anything to put the situation in his husband’s hand, because trusting him was no question. It never had been. “You have something in mind?”

  “We start with the Farmer’s Market,” Parker said with a shrug. He set his fork down and pushed his plate to the edge of the table before laying his hand there, palm up, and Ronan took it. He let out a soft, shuddery sigh when Parker’s thumb brushed along his wrist. “Tonight, though, I want you to forget.”

  “I’ll try,” Ronan promised.

  Parker’s hold on him tightened, and he leaned forward. “No. I’m going to make you.”

  Ronan was left to his nightly routine alone, which he appreciated. He never did mind Parker seeing all the pieces of him since his diagnosis, but he liked to handle his body by himself when it was cooperating enough not to need the help. The catheter was temporary for now—an aid at the end of the day to prevent infections. At some point, he knew it would be an always thing, but right now it was just part of his nightly process.

  He showered after that, cleaning his body, then the inside of himself in case Parker wanted to fuck him. Drying off, he slipped into boxers, then used his crutches to head out into the bedroom. Without his orthotics, both feet suffered drop, and they dragged on the floor with each step, but walking was never much of a chore at home.

  The bathroom was a straight path of polished wood to the bed where Parker was waiting, lounging back with his arm behind his head, knees up with his feet pressed to the mattress. He looked good like this. He looked young and soft, like the boy he’d lusted after in their ninth-grade earth science class.

  Logically, Ronan knew they were aging. Even if he didn’t have MS, he’d still be suffering from sore backs and strange aches and eye strain. He’d still have the silver strands popping up next to the soft gold ones on his head and in his beard. Parker’s laugh lines and worry lines and frown lines would still be getting deeper, and his ability to do everything with his feet that he could do with his arm would be getting harder.

  It was just the passage of time, but Ronan didn’t see it. Not when they were like this. He didn’t feel all the limitations of his body as he set his crutches aside and slid under the covers next to his husband. Tingling, numbness, weakness—none of those things mattered, as present as they were between them when Parker held his palm to Ronan’s cheek and kissed him.

  “I want to be inside you tonight,” Parker said, pressing Ronan back against the pillow. He propped up on his arm, using his stump to turn Ronan’s face toward him, then he kissed him again, all tongue and teeth. “Yes?”

  “Yes,” Ronan groaned. He didn’t always want that, and frankly he didn’t really have the energy for it, but he needed it right then. Parker promised to help him forget, and he trusted him. “Please.”

  “I love when you ask nicely,” Parker said. He nipped at Ronan’s lower lip, then started downward to his collarbone.

  “That’s because it’s a foreign concept to you, and you think exotic things are sexy,” Ronan said, breathy and desperate.

  Parker just laughed, dipping lower, teeth grazing Ronan’s hip. “You’re right, though. I like new things. I like seeing you turned on. Worked up.”

  “Yes,” Ronan said. He closed his eyes, then let his hand fall into Parker’s soft hair as Parker dragged his boxers down to his ankles.

  He felt his husband shift, lifting his head, but Ronan knew it wasn’t over. A warm hand drifted to the inside of his knee and spread his legs before Parker settled there. “I like seeing you…unsteady.”

  Ronan groaned as Parker punctuated his sentence with a lick up his hard shaft. “I think it’s been too long since someone got you hot and bothered like this.”

  Ronan opened his eyes this time and pushed up on his elbow. “I have never not been desperate for you.”

  Parker laughed, his cheeks a little pink, but his eyes were bright and open. “I know that. Oh, my love. That’s not what I mean. I’m talking about Jonas.”

  Ronan jolted, both from the words and from Parker swallowing his cock down in one smooth motion. For a moment, he was too overwhelmed to think, to process what Parker was saying. But his brain eventually caught up with him, and his hand touched Parker’s shoulder, drawing him up. “What the hell?”

  “I saw the way you looked at him,” Parker said. He let out a hot breath as he mouthed down Ronan’s cock, making him groan and arch. “He’s beautiful, isn’t he?”

  Ronan tried to push the vision of Jonas away, tried not to picture his lush mouth and his soft skin. He tried not to remember how he felt pressed against him on the ATV, the way his long fingers dug into his shirt.

  “I want you.”

  “I know. I have never doubted that. Not since the morning I woke up with you in my bed and knew you weren’t leaving.” Parker slid up Ronan’s body until their cocks were aligned, and he thrust against him. “It’s okay to find him beautiful. It’s okay to want that.”

  “I don’t,” Ronan said with a half-sob. “I haven’t…”

  “I know,” Parker murmured against his mouth before surging in and kissing him. It was rougher than before, possessive in the way Parker always was—with words, with touch, with love. His hand grabbed Ronan around the back of his head and fucked his mouth with a thick tongue as he thrust against him. “I don’t mind that you want him,” he said as he pulled back. “Thinking about you with him is very… attractive.”

  Ronan laughed, he couldn’t help it. He’d fucked other men, before getting his head out of his ass and showing up at the bar to take Parker home. He’d gotten off to more dicks than just his husband’s. But he had never, ever in his life wanted anyone else. He had never noticed other people.

  They watched porn together, and Ronan had even fantasized about anonymous, faceless men taking Parker apart while he watched. He got off on fantasizing that his husband was being taken to a new level of pleasure while he sat in the corner and quietly directed with soft commands. But no one had ever had a face before.

  And now, in this moment, Jonas was there.

  “You said you’d make me forget,” Ronan whispered.

  Parker dragged his hand around to cup his cheek, thumbing at his bottom lip. “I lied. I’m not saying go out and fuck him. I’m just wondering what you’d do if you could.”

  Ronan groaned, his head falling back. Part of him worried this was a test, that Parker was feeling insecure. But the strength in his hand, and the hardness of his cock, the precome leaking onto his belly—all of that told Ronan his husband actually liked it.

  “I don’t know,” he admitted.

  “Want me to give you some ideas?” Parker’s firm hand turned Ronan onto his side, and then he heard the sound of the drawer. When Parker came back, his fingers were cold and slick, drawing circles around his clenching hole. “I have a few.”


  “God,” Ronan gasped. “I bet you do.”

  “Mm.” Parker mouthed at the back of his neck as his finger slipped in. “I like his hands. They look delicate but strong.”

  Ronan choked back a groan as Parker slipped in another finger, and unerringly found his prostate, brushing over it with each tender thrust. “God.”

  “I bet he’d finger you nicely, stretch you wide.” Parker’s foot nudged Ronan’s legs apart, and he pulled back. Ronan knew what was coming just seconds before a foot slid up his inner thigh and the top pressed against his balls and rubbed gently. “He’d fuck you with one hand and stroke you with the other.”

  Ronan shuddered out a gasp, right on the edge of orgasm, though he managed to hold it back. Parker pressed a wet kiss to his shoulder, then turned the side of his foot and stroked his arch along Ronan’s dick. It still amazed him, how he moved, how he fit so perfectly there.

  The thought of not having him was almost overwhelming, and he lost his breath. “I need you,” he begged.

  “I’m right here.” Parker moved his foot down and removed his fingers. “I will always be right here.”

  “If you’re going to keep doing this, I need you there,” Ronan said, on the verge of tears. He wasn’t sure why this was so much, why he wanted this fantasy so desperately, and why it scared the shit out of him. “With me, with him. With us.”

  “Okay.” Parker nosed along the side of Ronan’s neck, then pressed the head of his now-slick cock to his entrance. “I’m there with you.”

  “Tell me,” Ronan begged. He felt grounded suddenly and safe as Parker thrust forward, a single push inside him, fitting like a puzzle piece. “Tell me where you are, where he is.”

  “He’s here. He’d put his mouth here,” Parker said, and sucked just below Ronan’s ear. “He’d put his hand here,” he curled his hand around Ronan’s dick and gave one stroke. “And I’d be here.” He dragged his blunt nails to Ronan’s nipples which were over-sensitive and sent sparks of pleasure to his core. “I’d kiss you until you couldn’t breathe.” His fingers brushed over Ronan’s lips, and then he began to fuck him in earnest. “We’d have you—all of you. You’d be surrounded, and filled, and smothered. We’d fuck you until all you knew was the sound of your own breath punched from your lungs.”

  “God, god,” Ronan cried out, the words mostly a garbled mess.

  “We’d get you on your knees, him pressing above you, me below. You’d slip into me and he’d fuck you to fuck me,” Parker said. His thrusts were wild, the bed slamming into the wall, Ronan’s hands desperate to grab something to hold. He felt outside of his body, and yet connected to every single part of it. He was in love, and he was terrified, and he had never wanted anything so much.

  “I want that. Parker. Parker, I love you, I…”

  “I know,” Parker said. His voice was thick, strained, his breath coming out in shallow grunts as he chased his orgasm. “I know. I do too.” He swelled, then grabbed Ronan’s dick and gave it three rough strokes before they were coming, only seconds apart.

  Ronan’s entire vision whited out, and his body went numb for a painful eternity. He came back to himself as Parker was attempting to catch his breath, curled around Ronan like if he let go, he might not make it back into his arm.

  After an impossible silence, Parker let out a trembling sigh. “Fuck. Was that too much?”

  “I don’t know,” Ronan answered, because he didn’t. He didn’t know if it was all right, or too much, or not enough. He didn’t know what it meant. The only thing that saved him from the spiral was Parker wrapped around him, refusing to let go.

  “I love you.”

  Ronan closed his eyes. “I love you too. I…” I have never loved you more, he thought, but it felt strange to say it right then, because he didn’t know what that could mean. “You’re everything.”

  “I know,” Parker said with a laugh. When their heartbeats calmed, Parker used his careful hand to turn Ronan, unmindful of the mess between them. He pressed their bodies together and nosed along his jaw. “I have never doubted you.”

  Ronan felt his insides clench as Parker spoke his fear aloud. “Please don’t. Please don’t ever…”

  “No,” Parker said. He pulled back and hooked a finger under Ronan’s chin. “No.” Once he had Ronan’s gaze, he reached for his hand, turning it in the faint bedside lamp light, his ring glinting before Parker kissed it. “I know what this means.”

  “Okay.” Ronan swallowed thickly, then cleared his throat. “It was real, though. I…wanting him, it was real.”

  “I know.” Parker eased Ronan’s hand down to his side and then wrapped around him. “It’s okay.”

  “Is it? I’ve never…since you, I’ve never felt…”

  Parker heard him start to stutter, heard his tongue go thick with stress, so he kissed him until he could breathe again. “It is. It’s okay. You wanting him changes nothing with me, right?”

  But that wasn’t entirely right. Because Parker had given him something there, even if it was just a fantasy. Even if it had no bearing on their actual lives, and it somehow made Ronan love him more. It felt almost wrong, but not quite. “Can we talk about it again?”

  “Yes,” Parker said. He shuffled closer. “Do you trust me?”

  Ronan laughed this time as he reached over his husband and turned out the light. “Always.”

  “Good. Sleep well.”

  Ronan buried his nose in the top of Parker’s hair and let sleep take him.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jonas left the restaurant with a full stomach which was twisting in on itself after his encounter with Ronan and his husband. He hadn’t really known what to expect from anyone in the town when he arrived, but the Lodge staff was friendly, and one of the owners who introduced himself as Brad took him on a quick tour of the grounds to find his room, which was at the very edge of the property.

  “It’s nice here,” Jonas mused as they walked along the gravel path. They were surrounded by mountains and trees—more lush than Denver, and Jonas had never seen anything like it. He breathed in the scent of fresh, growing things, and he could feel the buzz of life in the air. It was nothing like home—the concrete nothing that had to strip the land of resources just to keep people alive.

  “It’s not bad. It’s grown on me,” Brad told him as he stopped in front of Jonas’ room. “I hope you have a nice stay.”

  And Jonas had been startled, because he hadn’t expected any of the locals to greet him with any sort of kindness. But it continued when he met Rene, and even Ronan—who was very obviously not thrilled to have him there—hadn’t looked at him like he was a vicious monster.

  When Parker slid onto the stool next to him later that night at the restaurant, it was the first time Jonas felt properly threatened. Parker’s eyes were sharp, his mouth vicious, his long fingers drumming on the counter like at any given second they could sprout claws and tear his throat out.

  But there was something else too. A spark of something wild in his eyes that Jonas couldn’t look away from. He’d been a man terrified of his own shadow for most of his adult life, and yet somehow Parker’s chat with him gave him the courage to ask him and his husband to guide him through the market.

  He was trembling by the time he got back to the Lodge, and as he was walking along the path by the pool, he nearly jumped out of his skin when Brad stood up from one of the lounge chairs.

  “You’re out late.”

  Jonas’ laugh was high and tense. “Is there a curfew?”

  Brad laughed at that and shook his head, bending over and then straightening up with a beer in his hand. “Come sit. The pool is closed so we won’t be bothered by guests.”

  Jonas hesitated, but his job was to make friends with the locals, and it wouldn’t hurt to have them on his side as he found a way to sabotage his father’s plans for the place. After a beat, he stuck out his hand, took the bottle, and cracked the top. Brad settled back on his lounger, so Jonas took the one to
his right, and he saw a small cooler with a few more bottles nestled in ice.

  “Is this really the life of a hotel owner?”

  Brad choked on his swallow of beer, then coughed through his laugh. “God, no. We have our downtime, but this was more than I was prepared for.” He let out a shaking sigh and tilted his head up toward the stars. “It’s better now, but I didn’t think I was going to last the first year. My brother, Andy, took off to Europe, and I was so angry at him, but I think I was also jealous.”

  Jonas hummed quietly, turning on his side to look at Brad, who had closed his eyes. “Have you been?”

  Brad laughed. “Nah. I was never adventurous like that. This was the biggest leap I’ve ever taken, and I don’t regret it, but it wasn’t easy. My dad did a number on us when he died.”

  “Hotel failing?”

  Brad shook his head. “More like he sprung a secret family on us during the will reading, and he asked us to uproot our lives for buckets of money.”

  Jonas couldn’t stop his laugh because in a way, that was his own life. Only he was the secret family, and the buckets of money were yet another way that his father could use him like a goddamn marionette to get his way. He took another long drink of his beer, then set it aside and let out a bone-deep sigh. “Do you regret it?”

  “No,” Brad said. “I’m happy now, and I like it here. Cherry Creek is a good place.”

  “Yeah,” Jonas breathed out. He’d been there just a handful of hours, but he could feel it in the ground, in the air, in the way people smiled at each other. And there was probably skeletons in closets and cruel people too, but it was nothing like home, and the envy was already threatening to choke him. “I’m sorry I’m here.”

  Brad sat up slightly and frowned at him, his expression barely visible in what was left of the dim pool lights. “What are you talking about?”

  “My father’s company,” Jonas said with a wave of his hand. He grabbed his beer again and swallowed it down, relishing the fizzy burn which made his eyes water. Swiping his hand across his mouth, he let Brad take the empty bottle and replace it with a fresh one. He wondered if he looked like a pathetic lush, the way he was drinking like this as Brad nursed the single beer he’d been holding since Jonas showed up, but it was hard to care when everything else felt so awful.