by KC Kendricks
"His loss.” Dalton propped up on his elbow and looked down at me, his face earnest in the light from the bathroom. “Do you think you're a failure?"
"Because I'm gay?"
Jesus, I'd uttered those two syllables as though they were merely words and didn't define my past, present and future all at once. I'd come a long way in the space of a few hours. Or had I? I'd been moving toward tonight for a long time.
Dalton splayed his hand in the center of my chest, his middle finger gently tapping the flat disk of my nipple.
"I've failed at a lot of things, but never at being me,” I said.
His face underwent a curious change, morphing from earnestly curious, to surprise, to something akin to pleasure, before turning sad.
"You're one of the lucky ones then.” He trailed his hand down my torso to my belly button. I nipped his shoulder.
"Go lower, Dalton. Just a few inches lower."
He pinned me to the bed with a quick, controlled roll, the move of a street fighter. A frisson of excitement, mixed with trepidation, swept me. Those large, calloused hands cupped my face.
"Reed, you have to be sure. If you're not, we'll call it a night."
That notion scared me worse than anything he would physically do to me. If he backed off now, I'd never get this close to him again. The demons we both danced with would see to it.
Before I could answer, his mouth claimed mine, searing my lips as his fused to mine. My world reeled as his kiss stole my breath. His body covered mine, tense with the urgency of his desire and his demand. His intention was clear. He meant to have me before I could change my mind. I cupped his ass and pulled him closer.
A low moan rumbled in his chest as his arms held me still. My cock filled to bursting. He guided my hands to the headboard and I grasped the rail and held on as he licked his way down my chest. The heat of his mouth enveloped my cock as he sucked me in, his tongue pressed to the smooth, flat surface of the head. I closed my eyes and let the pleasure draw me down past the darkness into a place of dancing starlight.
With his hands and his mouth he drove me nearer and nearer to insanity. I wanted fucked. I wanted to fuck him. If I only had him for tonight, I wanted it all, and I knew he understood. He teased at my ass, tickling me. My balls drew up as he took me deep again, the muscles in the back of his throat working, teasing, driving me wild. The blood roared in my ears.
"Dalton. I'm..."
I growled in frustration as he released my cock with a little pop.
"No, you're not.” His voice was the purr of a big cat. The bed shifted as he leaned away from me.
I heard the small tearing sound as he opened the foil packet. Another shift of his weight, this time as he came back to me. A blob of cold gel hit my belly. I cried out as every muscle in my body seized, wondering wildly if I could come without being touched. I ached for release, but knew I couldn't give in, not yet, not when I could perhaps fuck him as he was about to fuck me. I moaned, my hips rose off the bed, my cock strained up.
"Easy, Reed.” Dalton gripped my knees and lifted them, one at a time, to rest over his shoulders. His hands caressed the back of my thighs. “This will be cold for a second."
It was. I jumped as his lubed hands stroked my dick, spreading the gel over my inner thighs, my balls, my ass. He grinned as he spread a glob of the lube over my chest and belly. I grinned back, but didn't comment as he amused himself. One long finger slipped inside me. I hissed in surprise.
"Reed?"
I heard the strain in his voice, felt his concern in the careful way a second finger joined the first. My walls clenched around the invaders. Dozens of little muscles I didn't know I had danced delightfully around them as he massaged my insides. More lube drenched me, even as his fingers withdrew. I shook violently in anticipation.
Dalton's cock slid over my anus, gliding on the lube, taunting me with the promise of pleasure only dreamed of. He pressed into me, using great care as he pushed past the constricting ring of muscle. My flesh tightened against him.
"Relax, baby. Take a deep breath and blow it out. Press down against me."
Baby? My mind churned, but I did as ordered and then he was inside me. It didn't hurt, not really, and I struggled to find a definition of the sensation. Fullness, certainly, but no pain. But what stunned me was what I'd thought would be his possession of me was more mine of him. It was not his taking and my giving. The line between the two blurred and fused beyond those simple terms into an expression of trust and understanding.
Then he moved, withdrawing, and I almost passed out from the pleasure.
His hips flexed as he pushed into me again, only to withdrawal just as cautiously. My walls molded to his shape, learned his rhythm and synced with it. My hands reached for him and his found mine. Our fingers linked and my arms supported him as he took me. Someone moaned.
Dalton came into me, hard. I opened my eyes, and his gaze locked with mine. His rugged features sharpened with arousal as he approached orgasm. I fought to relax as he grew less careful and the feelings increased. The breath caught in his throat. His eyelids fluttered. I squeezed his hands as he cried out.
He slammed into me and held himself tightly to me as he climaxed. I lay in wonder beneath him, aching for my own release, but too engrossed in the strong pulsing and sudden sensation of heat within me to grab my cock and stroke. Dalton wasn't.
His long fingers closed around my shaft and stroked. Once, twice, then I came in a never-ending wave, engulfed in a fire that burned without scars, yet seared my body. The sweat that flowed from my pores baptized me clean, and Dalton's lips on mine made me whole.
Carefully he withdrew from me and eased my legs down to the bed. I reached for him as he rose from the bed, reluctant to lose physical contact with him. He murmured he'd not be long. I listened to the sounds in bathroom, then he called to me.
My knees shook as I stumbled to the bathroom. The steam already rose in the shower. Dalton stepped under the spray and pulled me, unresisting, into his embrace. I wanted to stay there forever.
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CHAPTER 6
I shook in Dalton's arms as he held me under the cascading stream of hot water. I don't know what I'd expected, but this uncontrolled trembling wasn't it. His gentle hands soaped my back, soothing me until I stopped shaking.
"Okay, now?” he asked, his voice strangely resonant in tiled shower stall.
I nodded and cleared my throat, but didn't raise my head from his shoulder. “Yeah. Sorry about whatever that was."
"Probably the release of stress."
That sounded plausible. “Right. Let's go with that."
"You want the soap?"
I lifted my head, sputtering as the water hit me in the face. He grinned and swung us around so the water hit him. Nothing seemed to faze him. I found that an enviable quality at three in the morning. I grabbed the shower gel from him and squirted a generous portion into my palm. The scent of Old Spice rose with the steam.
"Here, Reed. Let me do that before you keel over."
He covered my hands with his and started to lather my skin. I was glad he did it. My brain had shut down and left me incapable of even lower function.
I was wired, pulled taut with some extra awareness of every touch, every sound and scent. I grabbed Dalton and kissed him soundly as he purred deep in his throat. His lips on mine, he spread an additional glob of shower gel over my shoulders.
"You like the slippery stuff, don't you?” I knew he did or he wouldn't have greased me up quite as much earlier.
He grinned, and I caught a glimpse of the boy in him for the first time.
"Busted. I like it. Some night we'll spread a sheet of plastic on the floor and really play in it."
"Surely, you jest.” I held my hand under a jet and deflected the stream at him. “I'm getting wrinkles."
"Nope. I do not jest.” He reached past me and turned off the water.
I felt more like myself and reached for one of the two large towels han
ging on the bar. I raised my eyebrow at him.
He shrugged. “I hoped you'd say yes, so I put out clean towels."
"Cocky bastard,” I replied, as I finished drying off.
Dalton took my towel and hung it beside his, then reached for my hand. “You want another shot, Reed?"
"No, but I'll have one.” I wanted to curl up in the middle of the bed with him and pass out until the sun shone directly overhead. Maybe he read minds.
He pointed at the bed, and I obediently padded off, sliding between sheets that held the scent of our lovemaking, and took my half out of the middle. Dalton brought back the whiskey and, knowing I shouldn't, I downed mine without waiting for him. He set down his empty glass and climbed in beside me.
We settled in the middle of the bed, seeking and finding the way our bodies fit together when at rest. Facing each other, thighs intertwined intimately, hands resting on hips, we lay quietly. Or almost so.
His cock moved against my leg. He sighed and relaxed and the subtle stirring ceased. I wouldn't have turned him down had he wanted sex again and pursued it, but I was glad to have some space and time to mull over a few things.
I wondered what the morning would bring. How would I look at him in the daylight? How would he look at me? I'd known a month ago that tonight was inevitable, but I'd never looked past the sex. Now I could, but the way still lay murky before me.
Dalton leaned into me and kissed me softly. “Reed, I can hear you thinking when you should be sleeping."
"How can you just turn off after..."
"I can't turn it off. I just need sleep. I've got to drive to Frostburg tomorrow afternoon to see my kids.” He snorted. “They need money."
A wave of disappointment passed through me. I'd hoped...
Well, what I'd hoped made no difference. He had responsibilities tomorrow and so did I. There was work to do on the section three contract. I forced my muscles to relax and my mind to silence. Just before I drifted into sleep, Dalton murmured something against my lips.
The mind plays tricks, but I think he said he loved me.
* * * *
I must have lost my mind to wish for sunshine. I rolled over and pulled the pillow over my head, seeking blissful darkness again. I stretched out my leg and felt for Dalton's foot with mine. I was alone in the bed. Well, shit. I rolled to my feet and almost hit the floor.
How many shots had I downed last night?
I sat on the edge of the bed and hoped my head would clear. Dalton strolled in carrying two mugs of coffee. He stopped, looked me over, and took a step back.
"You look a little green. Are you going to puke?"
"Oh, please,” I rasped at him. “I don't puke.” I held my hand out for my coffee and snapped my fingers. He complied wordlessly, gingerly placing a mug into my grasp.
I sipped the hot, dark brew. Hell, I'd have shot it straight into my veins if I'd had a needle. “How much whiskey did I have last night?"
Dalton walked around the bed and settled on the pillows, sipping his coffee before he answered. “Maybe four shots. Maybe only three. I wasn't counting."
I set my mug on the spool and fell over sideways on the bed, groaning. “Two is enough to do this to me."
"You were fine last night,” he observed.
"Always am until the morning. Kill me, please."
He chuckled softly, wickedly, and molded his frame around mine. Strange how in an instant I felt better, how his lips on the back of my neck made me forget the burning in my stomach and the ache behind my eyes. His hand wrapped around the engorged shaft of my morning erection.
"Are you up to doing anything with this?” Dalton licked my ear and gave me a few delicious strokes.
Was I? “Give me five minutes and I'll...” I broke off as his cell phone rang.
He answered, his gaze locked to mine. He looked away.
I listened as he told the caller he'd be there by two o'clock. One of his kids then. It occurred to me I'd not seen any photos of them. Maybe he didn't have any current pictures, or maybe he didn't need them to remind him of what his children looked like. Maybe he could remember on his own. Nothing mattered except that the call put an obvious damper on his libido.
"Sorry, Reed. Leslie calls me every Saturday morning. She's a good kid."
"No problem. Listen, I think I'm going to head home so you can do what you need to do, okay?"
He blew out a long breath. “Yeah. Just lean back here and drink your coffee first."
I agreed, and after a staggering trip to the head, propped myself up beside him. Something had changed. Our silence was stilted; our thoughts kept private. I'd feared this moment, knowing it would come.
Dalton laid his hand on my thigh. “I'm not sure what time I'll be back tonight. Should I call you?"
My heart flip-flopped like a fish out of water. I noticed the sunshine again. “Sure. I'll be up until about eleven."
He squeezed my leg. “Good. I'll call. Your place?"
I shook my head. “Not a good idea."
Dalton nodded. “Do you want a pair of jeans to wear home?"
My pervie streak reasserted itself. “Your jeans? My dick where yours has been? Sure."
"You're nuts, Reed, but I like that in you."
This from a man who wanted to lay plastic on the floor and swim in vegetable oil. I downed the last of my coffee and rolled over, pinning him down beneath me. His blue eyes darkened as his arms came around me.
"I want you, Dalton. I don't know if you like it or not, but I want you like this."
"That's a tall order. I've not had partners that ... Okay, Reed. Okay."
The implications of his words sank in. Given what I'd gleaned about his first experience, I wasn't surprised he'd chosen partners carefully. Yet he agreed to a certain equality with me. He'd known from the beginning, though.
It was easy to judge what another man would tolerate and what he wouldn't. He knew without words that I'd ceded him a right I wouldn't another man. And he was willing to do the same. Those whispered words against my lips haunted me. I hardened in a rush.
Dalton's beautiful mouth curved in a smile. “Now?"
I brushed an errant lock of his short, dark hair off his forehead. “No. Now you have to go be a daddy and enjoy every minute of it."
"Kiss me again, then let me up."
His lips opened to mine. His hands kneaded my ass. God, it was heavenly to share such an unhurried moment with him. Finally I released him. He stood and his erection led the way to his closet.
I dressed in borrowed jeans and a comfortable henley. He wore jeans and a college T-shirt, no doubt to show his support for his daughter's school. I bet he broke a lot of hearts when he walked on campus, and I told him so. He laughed and shook his head, then told me how visiting the college made him feel old.
My suit folded and coffee mugs empty, he escorted me to the front door. I hated to leave, but the sooner I did, the sooner the night would come again. He kissed me once more, lingeringly, until my resolve melted and I leaned into his arms. His forehead rested against mine.
"Now you can go,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.
I tipped up his chin and met his gaze, then opened the door and stepped back into the real world.
I'd stormed the banks of the Rubicon, but I didn't know if the victory was truly mine.
They say the night is darkest before the dawn. I can attest to this. I spent the next six nights in the darkest region of my own personal hell, staggering from my solitary bed at dawn, bleary-eyed from lack of sleep. I suffered through the interminable days because I had no choice but to survive them. I lived through the endless nights for the same reason.
Dalton had not called me upon his return to town.
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CHAPTER 7
By Friday afternoon, I was an angry wreck. Oh, I thought I hid it well from everyone, except maybe my secretary. Anyway, I'd finally given in and cruised the Quality Homes job sites and discovered Dalton was aliv
e and working. It hurt, a deep, numbing cut that lost no time in festering angrily. I left work early, as soon as the ink was on the final contract for section three. I showered and changed into jeans—my own—and drove to the pub. Dalton's truck was already there.
Damn the man.
I parked my Chevy beside his and strolled through the front door.
It was a tad early and the pub wasn't too crowded. Dalton sat at the end of the bar with a boy of about twenty. They were laughing familiarly, being very chummy. Dalton put his arm around the boy, ruffling his collar-length, curly dark hair. My heart plummeted, even as anger seized me again. I stalked toward Dalton. Their conversation reached me before I reached them.
"C'mon, Dad! I'm twenty-one tomorrow. One beer."
"No. Not here where I'll get arrested over it.” Dalton turned a bit and saw me. He jerked, startled. Those sinful blue eyes widened. He shook his head ever so slightly, a tiny movement that no one but me would pick up.
I understood. The anger drained out of me, but not the hurt. I hoped the explanation of why he hadn't called me sat beside him. He licked his lips. God, I wanted to do that for him. I had to speak with him. Nonchalantly, heart pounding, I eased onto the bar stool beside him. “Dalton."
He didn't quite meet my gaze. “Reed. Congratulations on the section three contract."
"Thanks. I need to talk to you about that. RLK might need sub-contractors for some of the work over the winter."
Dalton relaxed just a bit. A stranger wouldn't have known it, but I knew his body language better than most. We'd just established for his son we knew each other through work. He leaned back and introduced us.
"Peter, this is Reed Kauffman. His family owns RLK Enterprises, so he's technically the competition. Reed, this is my son, Peter Dalton."
The younger Dalton watched me with his father's eyes. Cute kid, one that would break a lot of hearts. It was all over him that he was straight and he wore some girl's ring on his left pinkie. His gaze flicked to his father, then back to me, all open curiosity and speculation.
I accepted the hand Peter extended. His grip was firm and his eyes met mine, man-to-man. I could almost feel Dalton puffing with pride and risked a look at him.
