Come in From the Cold

by Tymber Dalton

  Douglas had a car, but it was usually Connor helping him keep it running, because Douglas could barely change a lightbulb, much less his own oil.

  Douglas laid his head over onto Connor’s shoulder. “Thank you, Sir,” he whispered.

  Connor sighed, feeling contented for the first time in years. Then he kissed the top of his head. “You’re welcome, boy.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Emptying the storage unit only took one trip with the small rented truck, and it didn’t have to be returned until late tomorrow afternoon. They stopped by the hotel room so Douglas could pack and they could empty that as well and get him checked out. Fortunately, Connor had thought to grab a cooler from home, and they packed what few perishables Douglas had bought into that for the drive to Connor’s.

  Connor felt more than a pang of sorrow that his boy’s life was reduced to this little bit of stuff.

  And he held Douglas as he cried when he brought Mackie’s urn out to carefully tuck it into a box riding on the front passenger seat. When they reached the house, the first thing he had Douglas do was bring her urn inside and set it safely on a shelf next to his parents’ urns.

  Once they had the truck unloaded, Connor hit the button to close the large garage door. What they should do right now was empty that third bedroom and assemble Zee’s crib.

  Except that’s not what he wanted to do.

  It was only three. “Niall said they were good watching the girls until nine?” Connor turned to him.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  How natural that sounded falling from his boy’s lips.

  The last time they’d spent the night together in this house was indelibly etched in Connor’s mind, had been the subject of many tearful masturbation fantasies when he really felt like torturing himself.

  Connor held out his hand to him and wiggled his fingers.

  Not needing any further prompting, Douglas walked over and took his hand. Without a word, Connor led him down the hall, past the room that had been his room and would now be Zee’s room, and into the master bedroom, on to the bathroom.

  There, Connor pulled Douglas into his arms and kissed him, held the man’s face in his hands and slanted his lips over his boy’s mouth.

  That was the only way he wanted to think about the other man—his.

  His boy.

  Connor only realized he was crying when Douglas reached up and gently brushed Connor’s tears away with his thumbs.

  “I love you,” Connor whispered. “I never stopped loving you. I didn’t know how to stop loving you. I always hoped you’d come back.”

  “I never stopped loving you, either. I’m sorry I didn’t come back. I tried to call you when I found out about your mom, but the number was disconnected.”

  He nodded. “I couldn’t afford it. I had just enough from her life insurance to pay off the house and for her cremation. I cut back on everything so I wouldn’t lose the house.”

  “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here—”

  Connor kissed him again to shut him up. There would be all the time in the world to talk—later.

  Right now, he wanted to reclaim his boy.

  Make love to him the way they used to make love.

  They kissed as they stripped each other and Connor stepped into the shower, pulling Douglas in with him.

  That’s when Douglas let out a soft laugh, smiling.

  “What?”

  “You outgrew me, Sir. In more ways than one.” He started to sink to his knees but Connor wrapped his arms around him, keeping him upright.

  “Not yet,” he said, kissing him again.

  Connor didn’t want to stop kissing him. Something else he’d missed over the years. Kissing other guys never felt as good or tasted as sweet as when it was Douglas’ lips he was kissing.

  He stared down into those grey eyes, eyes that had haunted his dreams, and held him there under the spray.

  Just…being.

  Closing his eyes, he could still relive that last night together, how they’d started it just like this, except in his bathroom, before going to bed. His mom had been working that evening and they’d had the house to themselves. His mom had never questioned them sharing his bed, because they didn’t have a guest bed, and Connor’s bed was a full-sized, plenty of room for two boys.

  It worked for them.

  Especially since they loved to sleep practically on top of each other. He used to always take the right side, because the left side of his bed had been shoved against the wall. He liked keeping Douglas between him and the wall, putting himself closer to the door.

  While his nightmare had never happened at home in real life, he still didn’t want Douglas closer to the door. Wanted his own body between the door and his boy, the first to deal with any threat.

  He would sleep facing the door, his back to the wall, and Douglas wrapped around him since he was taller.

  Connor never slept as well or deeply as he had being the little spoon to Douglas.

  Now…now he was bigger, taller.

  He slipped one hand behind Douglas’ head and held him in place as he tempted, teased, tasted. The salt on his skin, licking across rough stubble that hadn’t been there the last time they’d kissed, skin raspy against Connor’s tongue and lips as he burned a trail along Douglas’ square jaw to his ear.

  “I think I liked the beard,” he whispered.

  Douglas shivered. “Yes, Sir. Is that an order?”

  “Maybe. Let me think on it.” Right now he was wondering what it’d feel like to slide his cock down his boy’s throat and feel that scruff tickling his balls and the insides of his thighs while he did.

  Douglas stroked Connor’s back, his hands settling on Connor’s ass and holding him close, nothing tentative about his movements, squeezing, digging in.

  Gently raking his teeth along Douglas’ earlobe and tugging on it still earned Connor the same soft, needy gasp, perhaps a little lower in tone now than back then.

  Connor pressed his lips to Douglas’ ear. “Who do you belong to?”

  His voice trembled. “You, Sir.”

  Connor’s hand trailed down the other man’s abs, encircling Douglas’ cock, making him gasp and making his cock twitch. “Who does this belong to?”

  “You, Sir. Everything belongs to you.”

  Connor slowly pumped Douglas’ cock once, squeezing before releasing him and backing him against the wall. “I’m the only man you’ve been with?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  He nibbled on Douglas’ lower lip. “That means no one’s claimed that sweet ass but me?”

  Connor still saw the gentle, shy teenage boy in Douglas’ smile. “Only you, Sir.”

  Connor splayed his hand in the middle of Douglas’ chest, pinning him to the wall. “Stay.”

  Then Connor sank to his knees.

  * * * *

  The past and present mingled, merged, overlapped in such a way that Douglas wasn’t completely sure what was memory and what was sweet, new beginnings.

  All Douglas knew was that, for this moment in time, he was finally where he perfectly belonged, with whom he belonged.

  After all these years.

  No fears for his eternal soul now. If God couldn’t see the purity of the love between them, the strength of it, that it came from a good and holy place, then Douglas wanted no part of that particular god.

  The only fear he had now was of disappointing Connor.

  Connor stared up at him from where he’d knelt in front of him, those gorgeous blue eyes a darker shade than Mackie’s had been—and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about Connor’s eyes any time he looked into Mackie’s. The years had taken the softness out of the man’s jaw, lengthened his face a little, gave him lines Douglas deeply regretted not being there to watch form over time.

  Connor’s gaze never looked away as his breath washed over the end of Douglas’ cock, the tip of his tongue flicking out to catch a pearl of pre-cum from the slit. Captivated, Douglas watched him
and barely dared to breathe.

  He still couldn’t believe he stood here in this place, with this man.

  Connor’s hands splayed across Douglas’ abs, grazing down his flesh, around to his hips and ass. A little more of Douglas’ cock disappeared between Connor’s lips, the tip of his tongue still playing along the slit.

  Douglas was glad for the wall behind him, because he needed to lean against it, and brace his hands on Connor’s shoulders, to stay upright.

  It felt too good—every lick and suck, every slow, gentle swipe of Connor’s tongue.

  How could I have ever walked away from this, and him?

  Then again, he wouldn’t have Zee, if he hadn’t. He’d never expected to have children until Mackie returned to his life. He would kill and die for Zee.

  But never again would he walk away from Connor.

  Never.

  He would always hold pain and grief in his soul over losing Mackie. He absolutely would. He had loved her as best he could, and she knew that, and it was enough for her. She’d been contented sharing his heart with Connor, because she also knew Douglas loved her. He had committed his life to her as her husband, and her death nearly destroyed him.

  Except he also knew if she still existed in spirit that she was likely right here with them and cheering them on. Just like he never would have wanted her to be alone, she would have wanted him to seek happiness. Not just for his sake, but also for Zee’s.

  Douglas would never deny himself another second of time with this perfect man.

  He reached down and raked his fingers through Connor’s hair. No longer the shaggy, sun-lightened honey-blond boy he’d fallen in love with. A few strands of grey could be seen scattered here and there, especially around the temples, if he looked hard enough. No more locks long enough for him to practically wrap around his fingers and hold on to.

  Connor pulled off his cock and sat back with a playful smile. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed doing that to you.”

  “I’ve missed it, too.”

  Connor stood and reached for a bottle of body wash. Using his hands, he took his time lathering Douglas’ body, from his ankles up, especially teasing his cock, his balls, his ass. Slippery fingers traced every outline of his muscles, reacquainted himself with the shape of his body as Douglas stood there, sometimes stealing kisses from Connor, when he’d allow it.

  Already it seemed like a weight had lifted from Connor’s shoulders. The lines at the outer corners of his eyes didn’t look as deep, the sadness eased.

  The anger—gone.

  Back then, Douglas had been barely taller than Connor but had always felt the other was in charge.

  Now, Connor looked it, and Douglas had to look up at him. “What are you, six-three?”

  Connor nipped Douglas’ lower lip. “Six-four.” He used his body to press Douglas against the wall again, their thighs notched together, pinning their hard cocks between them. “I had a growth spurt after you left.” The corner of his mouth quirked in a sexy smile that was totally his Connor.

  “I’d say you did.” Douglas’ hand sought Connor’s cock, fingers circling it. “Lucky bastard.”

  Connor’s eyes narrowed, looking evilly playful in a way Douglas remembered all too well. “Just remember that when it’s sliding up your ass in a little while.”

  “Oh, believe me, I’ll still be thinking that.” He hooked a hand behind Connor’s neck to pull him in for another kiss. “Only then I’ll be thinking it about myself. About what a lucky bastard I am, that it’s all mine.”

  “You swear an awful lot for a guy who spent so many years as a priest.” But the teasing smile lit Connor’s gaze.

  “You’d be surprised how much priests swear when not around their parishioners.”

  Connor lightly pinched Douglas’ nipples, making Douglas’ cock twitch in response. “Kayleigh’s first word was shit. I wish I was kidding. Not exactly my finest or proudest moment as a father.” Connor smiled. “I had to train myself to watch my language around her.”

  “Oh, I will, believe me.”

  His smile faded. “She’s my whole life. The last three years, I haven’t even dated. I take a weekend a couple of times a year and go up to a place in St. Pete, a gay resort. I’m scared to have anyone around her. I wanted to kill Karlie when I found out her boyfriend had warrants, and she had no fucking clue. In addition to what they did, of course. I have to keep Kayleigh safe. I will keep her safe.”

  He didn’t have to fill in the blanks. Douglas’ hand slid around and palmed Connor’s cheek, holding him in place as he kissed him. “I’m scared for Zee, too. I’m terrified of fucking up.”

  “Well, for starters, don’t say fucking around her.” But Connor’s smile returned.

  “I mean it. We’ll have each other’s backs. We’ll protect our babies, and God Himself won’t be able to help anyone who tries to hurt them with us around.”

  He watched Connor’s throat work as he swallowed, his gaze locked on Douglas’. “Yeah,” he hoarsely whispered, closing his eyes and letting Douglas pull him into his arms. “Yeah. That. Exactly.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  They stumbled out of the shower once they used up all the hot water. Kissing, biting, hands all over each other, everywhere at once, frantic need burning and building and close to combustion, to flashing over into something Connor knew they couldn’t step away from once it started.

  They dried each other off and Connor forced Douglas to hold still, to meet his gaze.

  “Please don’t let me go any farther if you’re going to have second thoughts and leave me again.”

  Douglas practically wrapped his body around Connor’s in response, his hard, sucking kiss stealing Connor’s soul. Teeth bumped and their tongues pressed, trying to join together, become one.

  “I’m yours,” Douglas finally gasped when they came up for air. “I’m yours, I’ve always been yours, and I’m never leaving you again. I swear it.” He pressed his forehead to Connor’s. “I meant my vow to you back then. I’m yours. I always have been, and I always will be.”

  Connor led him back to the bedroom, but grabbed his phone and connected it to a Bluetooth speaker on his dresser before calling up a playlist.

  The rich guitars and playful mandolins of Brothers Osborne filled the air, and he held his arms open to Douglas.

  His boy stepped into his embrace and they danced, the way they had that last night together when it was Lyle Lovett playing on his radio and they’d had the house to themselves.

  All the while on that last night, Connor had stared into Douglas’ eyes, trying to memorize them, afraid he’d never have him back in his arms, sensing deep in his gut that this was a final good-bye.

  “Pushing Up Daisies” played next, and he knew Douglas was paying attention to the words as a sweetly sexy smile filled his face.

  Connor sang to him as they slowly swayed in time with the music there in his bedroom, these fragile, new memories slowly pushing the pain and loneliness and anger out of his heart. He’d given up on God decades ago, but if there truly was grace, maybe it felt something like this sweet, easy peace slowly seeping into his soul.

  He was in no rush right now, no need to hurry. They had hours yet before they had to get the girls and this was their time.

  They needed this.

  He especially needed this after years of never connecting to another person in the way he’d connected with Douglas so long ago.

  That song faded into “I Don’t Remember Me (Before You)” and tears filled Connor’s eyes, his voice robbed from him as he whispered the lyrics. He wanted this moment to last in his memory until his dying breath, an impossible dream, an unthinkable hope manifested in flesh.

  He wanted his boy in his arms, the only man he’d ever really wanted.

  The reason no other man could ever suffice.

  His reason, his sanity, his first proof in life there actually existed true, pure good in this world, something he hadn’t thought possible, especiall
y after what he’d endured.

  Only Kayleigh’s birth knocked everything Douglas had been to him into second place.

  Now…

  They were.

  They would be.

  We are.

  When “21 Summer” played, it pleasantly surprised him when Douglas knew the words and softly sang along with him. At some point it was now Douglas leading their dance and Connor letting him, relaxing against Douglas and resting his head on his shoulder as he closed his eyes and let his tears fall like rain.

  Douglas nuzzled his face against Connor’s and continued singing to him even as Connor’s voice failed him.

  They slowly swayed in time with the rhythm, and at some point before the closing bars they were stretched out in bed, on their sides, facing each other. Connor rolled on top of him and reached for the nightstand drawer, where he kept a bottle of lube.

  His gaze never lost Douglas’ as he lubed the man’s cock, worked some into himself and rose up, slowly impaling himself. No, he wasn’t close to being ready, hadn’t been in a long, long time.

  But he needed this and sucked in a sharp breath against the pinching burn, needing it and craving having his boy be a part of him again. He took his time and Douglas’ hands settled on his hips, stroking down to his thighs, up again, gently pumping Connor’s cock for him and easing him through it. Achingly slow, every millimeter hurt in all the good ways, until he finally felt his ass pressing against the other man’s thighs.

  Leaning in, Connor kissed him. “No one’s been there since you, either,” he whispered.

  * * * *

  The air rippled around them, charged with electricity, with hope, with need and love and healing desire—all of it and more. Douglas finally felt true, deep peace and knew that, no matter what, this had been his destined path. Connor was his soul-mate and always had been.

  Douglas cupped Connor’s face in his hands and stared up into his blue eyes. Flecks of midnight, of sapphire shone bright, reflecting the light that had been rekindled within him.

  This was God surrounding them, His grace blessing them.