Welcome to Blissville

by Walker, Aimee Nicole

  “Josh.” I knew I would never tire of the way Gabe groaned my name when he came. His, “damn you,” that followed was half-hearted to say the least. He never stopped pegging my prostate or jerking my dick when he filled the condom, but his rhythm did falter for a few seconds. “Come.” Gabe sank his teeth in my neck where it curved into my shoulder and I couldn’t stave off my orgasm any longer. Stars exploded behind my closed eyelids as my climax moved through my body.

  Gabe was kind enough to catch me before I collapsed onto the cum-splattered hood of his car or maybe it was so I didn’t scratch the paint with my coat zipper. Either way, I needed his strength as I came down off my high.

  “Sexy,” Gabe whispered huskily in my ear.

  “Thanks,” I said in between breaths.

  “You too, but I meant that,” he said. I opened my eyes and saw that he was pointing to the mess I made all over his car. “I love that I can make you come that hard.” I could barely remember my name, yet, he could form complete sentences that made sense. I apparently wasn’t doing a good enough job of rocking his world and planned to remedy that later the same week in my studio.

  Gabe slowly pulled out of me and took care of the condom while I cleaned myself off with a shop towel he produced from somewhere. I couldn’t keep the grin off my face when he lovingly cleaned Charlotte’s hood with a microfiber towel before he recovered her.

  “Thank you for introducing me to Charlotte,” I told him once we were both tucked back into our pants and presentable to be seen in public.

  “It’s a big deal, you know. First Charlotte and then my parents.” Gabe waggled his eyebrows then dropped a kiss on my lips and slid his fingers between mine before he tugged me toward the door.

  “I can’t wait to drive her once the weather turns nice,” I said, knowing full well he wasn’t going to allow that to happen.

  “No one drives Charlotte but me,” Gabe predictably said.

  “Fine, Detective Butt Breath, but that means you can never ever take a spin on my pole.” The thought of Gabe’s much larger body spinning on my pole nearly had me laughing out loud. I adored him, but graceful and fluid weren’t words I associated with Gabe, not even during sex.

  Gabe stopped and turned to face me once we were outside his rental unit. “Which pole are you talking about?” His question caught me off guard. Did he mean that he wanted to bottom? For me? Gabe opened his mouth to answer me, but the loud, rumbling sound of a diesel pickup truck stopped him. We turned our heads sharply and watched as a dark truck with tinted windows drove between rows of units a few buildings down from his. I could tell his mind was in a place far away from sex.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “I’m sure it’s nothing,” he replied.

  I could tell by the grim line his lips formed on his face and the way that he gripped the steering wheel that his good humor and post-coital bliss seemed to have evaporated. He looked tense and coiled to react to something, but it didn’t take me long to figure out why once we were on the road heading back toward Blissville.

  The large black or dark gray truck came speeding up behind us and nearly hit us as it went around us, blowing black smoke all over the front of Gabe’s car so that we choked on the fumes that came through the vents.

  “I can’t believe you had sex with that guy,” Gabe said angrily.

  “Who?”

  “That’s Sampson’s truck,” Gabe informed me. “I saw it parked outside your salon yesterday.”

  “Oh,” I replied. “Hey, you can’t blame me for who I slept with ten or eleven years ago. I was a dumb kid who wanted to be loved.” In some ways, not a lot had changed. I was no longer dumb, or a kid, but I really wanted to be loved–especially by the man sitting to the left of me.

  “I know, babe, and I’m sorry that I said that.” Gabe blew out a frustrated breath. “I don’t trust him or the fact that he happened to be at the same storage units as us at the exact same time.”

  “You think he followed us?” I asked. That seemed like way too much effort from the Billy I knew.

  “I saw the look in his eye and heard the determination in his voice when he said it wasn’t over,” Gabe replied fiercely. He glanced over at me before returning his eyes to the road. “He can’t have you because you’re mine.” I was about to preen in my seat until he said, “Even though you called me Detective Butt Breath after I made you come so hard you sang soprano.”

  “Well, you did just have your tongue in my ass,” I told him.

  “Which I later put in your mouth, so that makes you a Butt Breath too.” He had a valid point and… eww. I hadn’t thought about it until he said something. “So that means you kind of licked your own asshole.”

  “I hate you.”

  Gabe laughed because he knew it was the furthest thing from the truth.

  Josh made me feel a bevy of new emotions and most of them were amazing, but I really could do without the jealousy. How had I lived thirty-six years and not been jealous prior to meeting him? I never had a problem sharing my toys with my older brother when we were little. I never got jealous when one of my friends picked up a new buddy and started spending time with them. I never got jealous when a guy I was involved with noticed other men nor did I resent that they had a past prior to me coming into their lives. Why now? Why Josh?

  Because you’re crazy in love for the first time. I had only known Josh for such a short period of time, and most of that was spent hissing and spitting at one another or fucking, yet I had never been more certain of my feelings for anyone as I was with him. The thought of him with someone other than me made me ill and it didn’t matter how unreasonable my feelings were. Hell, my ex lived in the same damn town as us and Josh wasn’t insanely jealous–or at least not that he showed me. So why couldn’t I get past a relationship that ended almost a decade before I met Josh?

  Because there’s something really off about Billy Sampson. I knew it the moment I met him that he was a jerk and it took me all of a minute or less to learn he was a homophobic jerk–or so I thought. It turned out that he really hated himself and the fact that he was attracted to other men. Those types of people were often more violent than a regular homophobe. I should’ve pitied him rather than been jealous of his existence, but I was angry that he got to see an innocent Josh that the world hadn’t turned cynical and even angrier that he was part of the reason for Josh building walls around his heart.

  I wanted that heart all to myself and I wanted it given to me freely. I needed Josh to be able to look into my eyes and tell me exactly how he felt about me without hiding his emotions behind snarky comments and sex. I craved the moment that Josh could be completely real with me and not worry that he would be let down and disappointed again. I also knew that I needed to earn that privilege with more than just words, which was why I pushed aside all of my irrational jealous feelings over his past with Billy Sampson so that I wouldn’t ruin our day with a foul mood–especially after the sexy moment we shared in my storage unit.

  I ended up taking Josh to run his errands rather than drop him off back at his house because I wanted to spend more time with him. I enjoyed our trip to Brook’s Pets, but I could go the rest of my life without returning to the grocery story on a Sunday afternoon.

  “What the hell is going on here?” I asked in disbelief. The parking lot was packed with cars and there were only two grocery carts left in the corral inside the store. “Is there a blizzard coming?” Every time the forecaster mentioned snow, regardless if it was a dusting or two feet, people ran to the store and bought out the bread and milk. Ohioans were strange individuals sometimes.

  “It’s Sunday at noon,” Josh replied, as if that made any sense at all. He rolled his eyes when I just looked at him like he was from another planet. “All of the good people have just left church and they’re grabbing their groceries before they go home. If I wasn’t still blissed out from the O you gave me then I might be a little upset with you for making me arrive later than normal. I al
ways get here and back home before the madness.”

  “You think we’re bad because we don’t attend church?” I asked him curiously.

  “Not at all,” he replied. “It was just something that was stressed by the older generation when I was younger. If you didn’t go to church, then you were going to hell. Now, I get to go to hell for a much better reason.” He rolled his eyes again at me and said, “No, I don’t really believe that either. I’m just once again repeating the shit I’ve heard over the years, and not necessarily from people in my community.” I wasn’t overly religious, but I was glad to hear that Josh didn’t think he was unworthy of His love like he had in the past with the men He created. “God loves everyone,” he said confidently before he added, “especially those who make the world a more beautiful place.” I knew when he pointed to himself he was referring to his career and not his looks, well, that was until he licked his finger and ran it over his eyebrow.

  “You do make the world a more beautiful place.” I leaned over and kissed his cheek and felt his skin flush beneath my lips. Sure enough, his face was a pretty shade of red when I pulled back. “I wonder what they’d call that shade in a lipstick,” I pondered out loud.

  Josh’s response was to elbow me in the ribs before he walked ahead of me, pushing his cart with his head held high. I learned quickly that Josh didn’t quite know how to handle it when someone served him up a bit of his own smart-ass medicine. I liked that I was unpredictable to him and kept him on his toes. I stood there longer than I should have, admiring his sassy, bubble butt as he walked away.

  “I like you more and more each day.”

  I turned around and looked into Meredith’s smiling eyes. I was curious what I did that made her so happy so I asked, “Why?”

  “You’re perfect for him,” the woman dressed in her Sunday finest standing beside Meredith said. She had the same mocha-colored skin and keen brown eyes that sparkled with mirth as Josh’s best friend. I didn’t have to rely too heavily on my detecting skills to know I was standing in front of Meredith’s mother. “You give that sass right back to him and keep him on his toes.” I was glad to hear that my earlier speculation had been right. “Besides, I know love when I see it.”

  I leaned forward and said softly, “Don’t tell him that or…”

  “I’ll scare him to death,” she finished for me. “I know how my boy works, and yes, I claim him as my own. I promised Bertie that I would look after him when she moved to Florida and I take my promises seriously.” She extended her hand to me and said, “I’m Wilhelmina Richmond, by the way. My friends call me Willa.” I shook her hand and after a long awkward pause she added, “That includes you too.”

  “It’s wonderful to meet you, Willa.” The earlier mention of Josh’s mom reminded me that I would be meeting her in a few weeks. I wanted to do something nice when I met Bertie, perhaps gift her a bottle of her favorite perfume or something, and asked Willa for suggestions.

  “Do you really want to make a good impression on Bertie?” she asked me.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Respect,” she said then looked at Meredith. “Take note of how a man should talk to your mother.” I raised my brow, wondering what she was referring to but decided to ask Meredith later because I knew Josh would double back and look for me before too much longer. Willa locked her eyes on mine and said, “Treat her son the way he deserves to be treated and I promise you that she’s gonna love you.” It sounded too simple to be true, but that’s exactly how I would feel if I had a son or daughter.

  As I predicted, Josh returned to my side mere seconds after Willa finished her sentence. “Mama Richmond,” he said before he was wrapped tight in a hug. “I miss your face.”

  “Boy, I’ve lived in the same house for nearly fifteen years. Do I need to print off a map for you or are you just playing hard to get?” Then she looked at me and amended, “Or, perhaps you’ve been very busy.” Josh wasn’t the only one who blushed after Willa’s comment. “I remember what it was like when things were new.”

  “Mama,” Meredith said, but her admonishment was ruined by her snort.

  “I’ll stop over tomorrow,” Josh promised, tugging on my arm to get me to follow. “This guy made me late and I have to get a move on if I’m going to make dinner an amazing event.”

  “Dinner is always an amazing event,” Meredith countered.

  “Thanks, love,” Josh told her as he walked backwards. I took the cart from him in fear that he’d run someone over. “I’ll see you tonight.” He then blew air kisses at Willa and said, “And you tomorrow.”

  “What’s for dinner?” I asked Josh once he turned back around. I hadn’t missed a Sunday dinner since he first invited me after we kissed and made up after he returned from Thanksgiving with his family in Florida. I was the first guy Josh ever invited over to the precious night he only shared with the two people closest to him in the world–Chaz and Meredith.

  “You’re in for a real treat,” he said proudly. “I’m making you beef stew and cornbread.” I didn’t miss how he said he was making it for me.

  My mouth watered at the thought and I groaned so loud that people turned to look. “He’s making cornbread,” I said, as if that explained everything.

  “Homemade cornbread,” Josh amended. “Not some crappy box mix.” Some lady, who’d just tossed a name brand box of cornbread mix in her cart, gave him the side-eye and sped away.

  The rest of the trip through the store was less eventful and Josh refrained from insulting anyone else with talk about his superior cooking skills. He did take his sweet old-fashioned time squeezing the produce in a way that made me think of the way he milked my balls right before we arrived. I couldn’t tell if he was dilly dallying to annoy and tease me or if he was that particular about his fruit. I patiently pushed the cart without saying a single word and exchanged sympathetic looks with other men who were in the same boat as me. I couldn’t wait to get back ho… to his house and smell the amazingness that I knew his beef stew would be.

  It seemed like days before we were once again back in my car heading to Josh’s house to put away his groceries and pet supplies. A light snow had begun to fall while we were inside the store so I was paying more attention to the roads than whatever Josh was saying at the time. I had seen just how quickly the roads got slick when the temperature hovered around or was below freezing and wrecking was the last thing I wanted to do that day.

  “Are you paying attention?” he asked primly.

  “Not really.” Hey, I wanted points for honesty, but it didn’t look like I was going to get them.

  “That just added an extra day on before you get to see my studio and the special routine I have planned for you.”

  I sat up straighter in my seat and glanced over at him quickly to see if he was joking. He was not. It was the first time he ever mentioned a special routine and I was damn determined to knock that day off my sentence. “I’m sorry, dear.” The snort Josh gave told me that my voice was anything but the contrite one I had planned.

  “I was saying,” Josh said exaggeratingly, “that I read an article online yesterday that said a lot of gay couples start looking alike after they’ve dated for a while. I’m just stating for the record that we,” I saw him gesture his finger between us out of the corner of my eye, “will never be that couple.”

  I gasped as if I was truly affronted when I was actually excited that he thought of us as a couple, even though the R word had yet to be used by either of us. “Are you saying that you think I’m ugly?”

  “Don’t play dumb with me, Detective…” He skipped whatever insult he was about to use when I pinned him with the same scowl I gave perps when I played bad cop. “I simply meant that I like how different we are as individuals. I think we complement each other.”

  His words made my heart dance in my chest. “I agree,” I told him. I turned to face him once I was stopped at a four-way stop. I hooked my finger in his jacket and pulled him to me for a quick kiss. “
Besides, there’s no way my boys want to be trapped in skinny jeans after all these years wearing Levi’s.”

  Josh laughed hard, but I wasn’t sure if it was due to my words or the idea of me crammed into skinny jeans. I loved how they looked on him, but there was no amount of money in the world that would entice me to wear them.

  “I like the way you look in my t-shirts though,” I told him once I resumed driving back toward his house. If I was keeping score of the number of times I rendered Josh speechless it would probably be a total of two times after he heard my t-shirt comment.

  I wouldn’t say he stiffened exactly, but there was a sudden stillness to him. Josh was never still. I worried that I went too far or pushed too fast until he placed his hand on my leg and patted it. “I like wearing your shirts because they smell like you.” I had to swallow hard twice to dislodge the lump of emotion stuck in my throat. I knew there was so much more to his words than him admitting that he liked my body wash.

  I pulled into his driveway at the rear of his house and parked next to his teal green Mini Cooper convertible. I wanted so badly to expand on the emotional exchange that we both had, but I didn’t want to push my luck. Instead, I posed to him the question that just popped into my head. “What’s the name of your car?” I knew that there was no way in hell that Josh didn’t have a name for her. He loved that car as much as I loved Charlotte. His pink-tinged cheeks told me that he was embarrassed about the name he chose for his car. He mumbled something beneath his breath, but it was too soft for me to hear. “What was that?”

  “Princess!”

  “It’s cute,” I replied, “like the car and like…”

  “Do not say like her owner.” Josh’s shrewd eyes locked on my twitching lips as I fought back the urge to laugh.

  “I would never.”

  Josh’s response was to get out of my car and walk around to the trunk so he could start unloading groceries. I was feeling a tad sassy myself and didn’t push the button to open it for him. Instead I sat in my car and watched him through my rearview mirror until he lowered his head and looked at me through the rear windshield and mouthed the words “two days.”