“Is that so?”
“Isn’t it true? You’re fucking engaged. I heard you guys discussing venues and seating plans. What the hell was I supposed to think?”
He shoved me away and started to pace in front of the sofa like a caged tiger. I couldn’t figure out why he was so angry.
“Come back here,” he ordered when he realized I was walking out of the room.
“To get another pointless lecture?”
“No.”
“What then?”
My recalcitrance triggered something primal, and he surged forward, closing the narrow space between us within seconds. He grabbed my biceps and held me in place. “You are the most aggravating person I know.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but he preempted me with a bruising kiss. Our tongues clashed as we fought for control, but his kisses screamed possession and his dominance soothed instead of provoked. Gradually, I gave myself over to the fiery passion that erupted between us. I’d never seen him this unrestrained, and it was a huge turn-on. We were tearing our clothes off in no time, popping buttons and ripping fabric, desperate to feel skin.
I was surprised Cole had the presence of mind to think about a condom when he ordered me to stay put and practically sprinted to the bedroom to get the supplies. He could have fucked me raw right then and I would have let him. I made a mental note to start planting said items throughout the apartment for future encounters.
By the time he came back, I was dribbling precum all over my stomach. I wanted it bad and couldn’t wait for him to take the lead. I spread my legs and positioned him right where I wanted him. He thrust while I tilted my hips and met him head-on, bucking and writhing with pent-up need. We fucked like it was our last day on earth, mind-blowing sex guaranteed to melt the paint off the walls.
“You drive me crazy,” he said in a sexy growl, sucking up marks all over my neck.
“You’re not the easiest person to read either, but for the record, I love you.”
He paused for a split second, and came in an explosion of heat, but not before he whispered, “Me too.”
Chapter 32
We were lying on the floor, replete from the massive surge of sexual energy, caressing each other gently when Cole informed me he’d broken off his engagement.
“Thank you, Jesus.”
“Why do you even care?”
“Didn’t you hear me just say I love you?”
“I assumed it had something to do with my amazing sexual prowess.”
“The sex was great, but it didn’t have anything to do with my feelings.”
“How long?” Cole pondered.
“Maybe it started the first night I got here. When you opened the front door, I barely recognized you, but my dick approved of the changes. In case no one has mentioned this recently, you’re hot as fuck.”
Cole snorted. “I clearly remember acting like a total jerk.”
“You were awful,” I agreed. “I had my first cutting incident that night.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”
“That I was in love with you?” I gave him a wry look. “You were deep in denial and would have probably followed through on your threat to kick me out of the apartment.”
Cole reached for my hand and we meshed fingers. “You’ve changed me for the better.”
“I wish I could take all the credit, but you’ve been evolving on your own.”
“Maybe, but I was too afraid to admit the truth until you called me a hypocrite.”
“Sorry about that. If it’s any comfort, your incessant nagging has made me more aware of my body and the horrible things I do to it.”
“Why did you resort to cutting after the session with Max?”
“I was convinced I’d lost everything. You were marrying Juliana, and Max was pissed because he didn’t get the sub he wanted. There’s a part of me that wished he’d been right. It would have solved a lot of my issues. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the answer.”
“What is?”
“Loving myself a whole lot more. I have this infantile need to be seen and appreciated for what I am instead of being constantly compared to my brother and falling short.”
“You are so much more than Junior,” Cole said heatedly. “How can your father be so insensitive?”
“I’m not the kind of son he expected.”
“We can’t all follow in our father’s footsteps.”
“You did.”
“Until I quit.”
I didn’t want to put him on the spot, but I figured this was as good a time as any to come clean. “Why did you walk away from a career you loved?”
Cole didn’t respond immediately, and I almost gave him a pass, but he confessed with a resigned sigh. “I’ve been hiding something important.”
“I already know, Cole.”
“What do you think you know?”
“You have a problem with your eyes.”
He jerked like I’d slapped him. “How long have you known?”
“I recently found out.”
Warily, he asked, “Did Juliana tell you?”
“No, I followed you to the Lighthouse.”
“You’re a nosy piece of shit.”
“I had to find out why you were so adept at finding things in the dark.”
“So now you know the worst,” Cole said darkly. “I’m clinging to the last of my sight like a drowning rat on a sinking ship. Every day I wake up expecting complete darkness, and when a sliver of light penetrates the gloom, I’m so grateful I could cry.”
“Jesus, Cole. You must be going out of your mind.”
“Pretty much. Some days, I feel like jumping off a roof and ending it all, then there are good days….”
“It can’t be easy.”
He got up on one elbow and looked down at me. His glossy black hair partially covered his face, but I parted it so I could see his eyes, while they could still see mine.
“Nothing about this situation is easy,” he replied. “But somehow you manage to make it tolerable.”
“I want you to know I’m here for you. Wherever, whenever…all you gotta do is ask.”
“Are you certain you want to take this on?” His eyes were brimming with emotion. I blinked back my own tears, which had already been too close to the surface.
“One hundred percent. Don’t push me away.”
“I can’t.” Cole faltered. “I…think I’m falling in love you.”
“You don’t have to say it unless you’re sure.”
“I’ll say it as often as you need to hear it, Sloan, because it’s true.”
“Why me?”
“When I’m with you, I forget for a few precious minutes. You make me feel like a man instead of someone with a disability. No one except you would dare to call me a sanctimonious prick.”
Motivated by his honesty, I pointed out, “You can be a jerk sometimes, and I’ll remind you of this conversation as often as necessary, but there’s nothing wrong with your manhood. Whoever thinks you’re lesser doesn’t need to be in your life.”
“See? That’s what I’m talking about,” Cole said triumphantly. “Your determination to treat me like anyone else isn’t an act. It’s the main reason I love and respect the hell out of you.”
“What about my cock?” I teased. “Isn’t it a huge part of my appeal?”
Cole grinned. “Bonus points.”
We ended up kissing and rubbing another one out, which led to a quick shower and change of clothes. Afterward, we lay in the dark with our hands clasped. Cole broke the comfortable silence in a strangled voice that caught me by surprise.
“I’m so scared.”
“Hey there,” I soothed, gathering him closer. “There’s strength in numbers. We’ll face each day as it unfolds, but always together.”
“Why ruin your life on an invalid?”
I kissed him with all the love and passion I could muster. We were wiped from the emotional evening, but I was relieved when I felt his
hard cock poking through the elastic of his sleep pants. I shoved them down his thighs and swiveled around to suck him down my throat for a healing blowjob. The only other thing that might calm him down was weed, but my stash was in the bedroom. Concentrating on the task at hand, I reduced him to a pile of goo within minutes. By the time he shot his load in shuddering spurts, he’d forgotten the question. Nonetheless, I reminded him.
“You’re not an invalid, and if I ever conquer my demons, it’ll be thanks to you. Knowing you have my back is more important than you realize. We’re a team, Cole.”
“I’d like to think so.”
“I wouldn’t lie to make you feel better.”
“This is why I need you.” He burrowed his face into my neck. “You have a way of dealing with the truth without bruising my ego or cutting me off at the knees. It’s as essential as breathing.”
“You can do anything on your own, Shogun, but if you’ll have me, I’d like to come along for the ride.”
“God, yes. Promise me one thing, Sloan.”
“What?”
“No more cutting.”
“I don’t know if I can control it.”
“If I can figure out how to walk around without bumping into walls or falling flat on my face, you can stop cutting.”
“Will you help me?”
“Do you even need to ask?”
“I was being polite for a change.”
He cackled and my head on his chest bobbed up and down. Despite the significance of our conversation, I was glad I could make him laugh. When the hilarity ended, he said in a voice that brooked no argument. “Whenever you get the urge to reach for a blade, you come to me. If I have to cuff you, I will.”
“For real?”
“Damn straight. No. More. Cutting.”
“I’ll try, Cole. That’s all I can promise at this time. I’ll give it my very best shot.”
“I couldn’t ask for more.”
We spent the next forty-eight hours in each other’s arms, with our comfort level growing as swiftly as the love we now freely declared. He made good on his promise and said he loved me as frequently as possible, which grounded me more than anything Max could offer.
On our third day, I decided we were going to do something completely unexpected. But first I had to tell Emily what was going on. She deserved to know after texting me on a daily basis with the same old refrain, move on. She wasn’t in, so I sent her a text, he loves me. I put in a dozen heart emoji’s to prove my point. I could imagine her initial shock, but she was a bona fide romantic who loved happy endings and I knew she’d be thrilled for us.
We were in bed when I sent the message, and he reached for my phone and peered at it intently. Sighing in frustration, he handed it back. “I can’t see for shit. What did you tell her?”
“That you love me.”
“More and more each day.”
“And I love you back tenfold.”
“I know. Now, tell me what exciting thing you’ve got planned for us today?”
“We’re going to Central Park to throw some balls.”
“Have you lost your mind?” Cole wasn’t angry, just bemused.
“Listen up. I was a pretty good catcher, and I know you were an incredible pitcher. If I can manage to catch your goddamn balls, you can fucking well throw them in a straight line.”
“You think?” He shook his head. “How do you expect me to see your mitt?”
“We’ll spray paint the balls in luminescent orange.”
His eyes widened in surprise. “I can still see colors.”
“That’s what John said.”
“Have you become best friends?”
“He’s my consultant.”
“Good to know.” Cole flashed a smile and I heaved a sigh of relief.
We dressed quickly. Cole swore his baseball gear was stuffed in an athletic bag in the hall closet, and after we found the relic, we pawed through the equipment and dusted off what we needed. There was a small hardware store a few blocks away, and we scanned the shelf to find the orange paint, but they were out. We settled for lime green instead. After spraying the balls and glove liberally, I threw everything in a plastic bag so the fresh paint could dry on our way to the park.
I clasped Cole’s hand and headed toward the subway entrance. “We’re taking the train.”
“You’re the boss,” Cole said cheerily.
I released his hand and let him take the lead. It was important to boost his confidence by giving him a wide berth. He only tripped once, and that’s because there was a dip in the concrete even I overlooked. I didn’t rush to help. He’d know better the next time around.
When we got to the park, we held hands while we walked around to find a good spot. There were a few makeshift pitching mounds I could see, and I picked an area far away from the others, just in case Cole threw a few wild ones to start.
I pulled the catcher’s mitt out of the bag. It was almost dry, but if the color leached, we’d both look like a Grinch by the end of the day. No big deal. I walked the requisite sixty feet and six inches from the mound and set up my gear. Cole waited, stretching his arm and getting ready to throw.
“Look at my mitt and tell me when you stop seeing it,” I yelled. “You ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be. You sure you want to attempt this?”
“Fuck yeah. It’ll be fun. Remember, Cole, stay back, stay closed, and follow your front side to the hole,” we both said at the same time, laughing and thinking of our fathers. It had been their mantra for years.
I moved closer to Cole and held up my glove at his eye level. “Can you see this?”
“Yes.”
I backed up a few feet, still holding up my hand. “How about here?”
He nodded.
I moved back a few feet at a time, waiting for his signal. I was about thirty feet from where I’d laid down my gear when he said stop. I was impressed he could make out the color of my glove at this distance, and although it was half of the requisite length, it was far enough for him to get in some good pitches.
“Okay, Cole. Let her rip.”
The first pitch was wild, as was the second. I raised my glove and waved it back and forth.
“Am I too far?” Maybe I’d misjudged the distance.
“Sort of.”
“Hit to my voice, Cole. I’ll catch whatever you got.”
He reached into the bucket and pulled out another ball. I wasn’t sure if Cole would be able to catch my return balls, so the supply in the bucket would prevent us from having to stop every few minutes. The next throw was wild again, but the ones that followed landed in my glove. I could feel his confidence grow as the pitches got stronger and soon I was struggling to keep up.
“Time out,” I yelled, running up to the mound.
“What’s up?” Cole asked. His cheeks were flushed, and he looked happier than I’d ever seen him.
“Are you having fun?”
“I’m having a blast.”
“Lighten up on the speed, okay? I haven’t caught a ball in years.”
He snickered. As I was walking back to my spot, he yelled, “Sloan!”
“What?”
“I love you.”
I did a U-turn and trotted back in his direction. Holding his biceps, I yanked him closer and kissed him on the forehead. “I love you, too, my Shogun. Now quit farting around and play ball.”
Epilogue
Grand Central Station at rush hour was as close to hell as one could imagine for someone who was sight-impaired. This morning wasn’t any different, with a crowd that surged to and fro, rushing to catch trains, running up and down stairs, or packing the escalators. Cole was jostled a few times but remained undaunted, holding onto Freddie’s harness like it was a life raft. Sloan had indicated they would meet underneath the big clock in the main lobby, easy enough to find for someone who took this mode of transportation on a daily basis.
Cole’s sixth sense picked up the waves of curiosity
from multiple directions. People stopped and stared, attracted by the golden retriever at his side. He and Freddie always garnered unwanted attention wherever they were out and about. Most people were tempted to reach out and touch the guide dog but usually kept a respectful distance.
A stunning biracial guy—Sloan’s persistent words of encouragement as he meticulously laid out his clothes each morning—in a handmade Italian suit with an engaging guide dog was unusual. Cole’s newfound confidence was, in large part, thanks to his loving, healthy relationship. It showed in his gentle smile and easygoing manner. Gone was the uptight historian who lived in a black-and-white universe. This man was much more flexible, capable of circumventing any hurdle that blocked his way.
Cole could tell when they were getting closer to the photo shoot; Freddie’s long golden tail began to wag joyously at the sight of Sloan, swishing lightly against Cole’s pants. When the dog stopped and came to rest at his feet, Cole surmised they had arrived. And sure enough, the energy change around him as Sloan approached. Cole and his dog were embraced in turn, with a few extra moments being spent on the dog, scratching behind his ears and slipping him the small treat Sloan always carried in his pocket. If Cole had a tail, he would have wagged it as happily as Freddie, but instead, his smile widened and he got up on tiptoes and bussed Sloan’s lips, careful not to smear the makeup.
“Hey,” Cole whispered lovingly. He’d missed his partner at breakfast because the photo shoot had started at five, well ahead of the commuters. Max always liked to get an early start, and Sloan was nothing but compliant, eager to oblige the man who’d negotiated his two-million-dollar contract with Klas cosmetics.
Max stopped directing his assistants for a second and greeted Cole politely, in deference to Sloan, who’d insisted they treat his partner with the utmost respect. Max and Cole had worked out a reluctant truce between them as soon as it was established that Sloan would be the new face for Klas and Cole had become a permanent fixture in Sloan’s bed and his life. Max was first and foremost a practical man. He would have never created a rift between himself and Sloan just because he’d opted not to partake of his brand of loving.
Sloan was a walking, talking, money machine. He’d exploded on the modeling scene as Max had predicted. The funny part was, despite all the media hype, Sloan never looked in the mirror twice. He bore the attention gracefully, but his world centered on Cole, their dog, and the life they’d built over the last ten months. He was happier than ever before, having gained a few pounds and succumbing to cutting only twice in all the time he and Cole were together.
Cutting Cords (Cutting Cords Series Book 1) Page 20
