Grant lifted Leo’s chin and kissed his soft, warm lips that opened and grew desperate and eager so fast. Lust was always quick to ignite between them. Grant pulled at Leo’s shirt, getting it up and over his head, breaking away as little as possible, just wanting skin under his hands.
Leo shivered and pressed against Grant, drawing his fingers down Grant’s stomach, before grabbing Grant’s hips and dragging him hard against his body. Grant wrapped his arms around Leo and the fresh scar on Leo’s side rubbed against Grant’s forearm. He pulled away from Leo’s mouth, kissing down his neck and chest to Leo’s heart transplant scar, pressing kisses the whole way. Then he moved down to the fresh, new purple scar on his side. He got his mouth on the sensitive tissue, kissing and sucking lightly, as Leo tossed his head back and forth and made soft gasping noises.
When Grant came back to Leo’s mouth, he found Leo’s face a mess of emotions. Grant picked through them—awe, surprise, worry, love, lust. It all made Grant feel hungry, possessive, furious in his desire to never let Leo go.
“Make love to me,” Leo whispered.
A burst of affection crashed inside him. It was intense and it broke him, but he wanted it every day for the rest of their lives.
“How do you want me to do that?” Grant asked. “Like this?”
Grant kissed Leo’s neck and then bit down until he felt Leo jerk and heard his gasp.
“Yeah,” Leo whimpered.
“Like this?” Grant ran his fingers over Leo’s scars, and then brought his hands up to pinch Leo’s nipples so hard that Leo’s knees buckled a little.
“Oh,” Leo said, trembling and breathing hard. “Please.”
Grant gazed at him, pinching harder until Leo whimpered and humped against Grant’s hip. “I could fuck you,” Grant said.
“Yeah,” Leo said, desperation all over his face. “Fuck me.”
“Maybe,” Grant said. “How much do you want it?”
Leo’s trembling turned into outright shaking and Leo scrabbled at his own jeans, trying to get them off. “So much. Please, Grant. Please.”
“Get on the bed. On your back,” Grant said, stripping his own pants off.
Leo spread on himself out on the bed wantonly. His thick, hot cock arched up, flexing, with a pearl of pre-come dropping down to his stomach.
“I can’t wait,” Leo said. “It’s been too long. Waited too long.”
Grant pushed him down into the mattress, kneeling over Leo, dragging his balls over the length of Leo’s cock. They’d done a lot—even during the last week in the hospital—they’d used hands and mouths, but Grant hadn’t fucked him since several weeks before the surgery. Leo had been too sick before, and after, until now, he’d been too fragile.
It wasn’t how Grant had planned it. He’d wanted to give Leo some absurd and romantic fuck, something long and drawn out, something to show how much he loved everything about Leo and his body, and how much he’d missed it. He’d thought that’s what Leo would want. But that wasn’t what happened.
Grant shoved Leo’s legs back, less rough than he would have been before the surgery, but not gently because he knew Leo liked it when Grant was forceful with him. He ran a finger down Leo’s ass crack and Leo’s legs started shaking hard. Something coarse and needy gripped Grant, and he spread Leo’s ass cheeks, and dove in, pressing his mouth to Leo’s asshole. He licked and sucked, getting Leo as wet as possible, and then he sat up and worked his cock in. It was tight, and Leo wasn’t as prepared as Grant usually insisted on, but Grant couldn’t wait, and Leo’s eyes were so wide and pleading.
Leo made a noise that wasn’t entirely good, but when Grant started to back out, Leo reached up and grabbed Grant’s face, pulling him down for a kiss. Leo lifted his hips, trying to take more inside.
“Hold on,” Grant said. “Wait a second.”
“No waiting,” Leo whimpered. “Now. Now, Grant. Now.”
Grant grabbed hold of Leo’s hands and forced them down, pulled back enough to spit a huge wad on Leo’s asshole, and then pressed in.
Leo’s legs jerked and then his asshole, lubed with the spit, seemed to tremble around Grant’s cock and give away. Another good wad of spit slicked the rest of the push inside, and Grant was satisfied that it was good for Leo now.
He came back to Leo’s mouth, kissing him, as he fucked him with steady, surging thrusts. Leo squirmed beneath him, trying to get it faster and harder, jittering all over, and begging with everything he had. He kissed all the skin he could find—Grant’s mouth, chin, neck, ear—whatever he could get his lips against, as he whined and moaned.
Grant trailed his hands down Leo’s body, feeling the thick transplant scars, and thinking of how close it’d been, how fragile, how touch and go. He closed his eyes and drove into Leo’s body, overwhelmed by how good it was to fuck him hard, to know that Leo was resilient, and strong enough to take it.
Leo groaned under him, whimpered, and babbled. Thanking Grant for fucking himand praising him. Grant fucked Leo harder, not being very careful, not taking his time, because Leo’s body could take it, thank God, and Leo wanted it.
“Oh, God, Grant!” Leo’s cock rubbed against Grant’s stomach and, looking down at Leo’s pleasure-torn face, he knew Leo was seconds away from coming. If Leo touched himself, he’d burst in just a few strokes, but Grant wanted to see if Leo could come just from this. Just from Grant fucking him hard.
When Leo started to reach for his own cock, Grant grabbed Leo’s hands and held them both against the mattress. Fucking Leo faster, harder, making sure that his stomach rubbed over Leo’s cock on each thrust, and he stared down at Leo’s wrecked face as Leo tossed his head on the pillow.
“Grant,” Leo whimpered. “Please, oh…oh, ah!” Leo’s eyes flew wide and he tensed, pressed his ass up to receive Grant’s thrusts, and his mouth opened in a sweet O as he stared up into Grant’s eyes and came hard with a small cry.
Grant slowed down then, dragging his cock in and out more slowly as Leo jerked through aftershocks beneath him. Grant kissed Leo’s eyes, his cheeks, and his lips. He stared down at him, studying every precious expression.
A few minutes later, Leo quivered, over-sensitive, and Grant knew that it was hurting a little. So he slid in and out of him gently, still close to coming, but holding back, loving the way Leo shivered and bit his lip with each thrust.
It was strange, given how frantic the fuck had been, but, when his orgasm finally hit, it was sweet. A slow roll that started with Leo whispering Grant’s name, and then pulsed through Grant’s body with warm, intense heat. It left him sated, amazed, and somehow even more in love with Leo than before.
“I love you,” Leo said.
Grant rubbed his nose against Leo’s and then kissed his mouth. “I love you, too.”
Leo smiled and laughed a little, his ass squeezing Grant’s cock and setting off a series of sweet aftershocks that made Grant close his eyes and shiver.
“You make me happy,” Leo said softly.
“Good.” Grant ran his fingers lightly through Leo’s hair. “That was my plan.”
“You make good plans then.”
Grant kissed him softly. His entire world held in the heart of the man in his arms.
• • •
Two Days Later
“He’s going to be my dad, so shut up,” Lucky said with her hands on her hips.
Grant’s eyes narrowed as he took in the small boy Lucky was talking to. The kid was wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that proclaimed he was God’s gift to football. Grant doubted that very much.
The small sea of children and their parents separated him from where Lucky was standing on the opposite side of the classroom didn’t part for him. He tried to shoo some kids aside, but then it all went to hell.
“My dad said that doctor is a queer!” the boy said. “Your dads are fags!”
As Grant watched, Lucky’s eyes went bright with rage. She balled her hand up into a fist and socked the hell out of the kid. He fel
l back about a foot. He blinked wildly and then he started to wail.
“You’re mean!” Lucky yelled. “And I’ll hit you again if you ever say mean things about my dads!”
The other parents and kids went silent. Everyone turned toward the drama and Grant had an even harder time pushing through. He was only supposed to pick Lucky up from school because Leo had a follow-up appointment with Dr. Gregor in Raleigh. Grant hadn’t expected picking her up to be an event.
The teacher, Mrs. Franklin, Grant believed her name was, got there before Grant. She hitched up her skirt and knelt by the boy, looking at his cheek where a bruise was swellings. Her wrinkled face twisted at what she found, and then she turned to Lucky. “There’s never any call for violence, Miss Lucky Garner-Banks!”
At that, Grant shoved through the parents and said, “I beg to differ. She has my permission to slug anyone who calls her dad a fag.”
Mrs. Franklin looked up from where she was tending the boy and said, “Mr. Anderson—”
“Doctor Anderson,” Grant replied.
Mrs. Franklin looked pissed at that, but Grant was pretty sure he could take the bitch. The murmur from the parents behind him didn’t surprise him either. He couldn’t care less. Lucky could beat the shit out of anyone who tried to make her feel less for having two—or three—fathers.
“Dr. Anderson,” Mrs. Franklin said nastily. She straightened her skirt as she rose. “There are rules at this school, and the number one rule has always been that violence of any kind will not be tolerated for any reason.”
Grant put his hand on Lucky’s head. “Well, Mrs. Franklin, I think I recall a big issue at the high school a few years ago? A Michael Dunfee? A bullying incident I believe it was, and it led to his suicide. I recall a huge march against hate speech. So let me say this now: it starts—and will stop—here.”
Mrs. Franklin said, “Dr. Anderson, I’m not condoning what Robby said, but—”
Suddenly a small woman with dark hair and a nervous face was at Robby’s side, saying, “Oh, baby, what happened? Are you okay?”
Grant rolled his eyes. The kid’s mother. Great.
“He’s fine,” Grant said. “I’m a doctor. He’ll live.”
“He called my dad a fag,” Lucky said, her arms crossed over her chest. “That’s hate speech.”
Grant bit the inside of his lip to keep the smirk from showing. Robby’s mother looked up at Grant and Lucky and then down at the floor. She blushed and when she turned to her son she said, “Come on, Robby. Enough crying. If you can’t take it, then don’t dish it out.”
“I just said—” the boy wailed.
His mother shook her head and said, “We’ll talk about it at home.” She looked at Grant as she got up from her crouching position and said, “Dr. Anderson, I apologize. My ex-husband and I have different views of life. I’ll talk to my son.”
Grant said, “See that you do. Or my daughter might break his nose next time.” He took Lucky’s arm, turned his back on Mrs. Franklin, and said, “Come on. Let’s go.”
“Dr. Anderson, tell Mr. Garner that he’ll be hearing from me,” Mrs. Franklin called.
Grant clucked his tongue and said, “You do that. I’m sure that Leo will be thrilled talk to you again.”
Mrs. Franklin blinked with gray, round eyes. Grant turned away from her, pushing his way through the waiting parents. He said with a chuckle, “Excuse us, please, or I’ll sic my kid on you. She’s got a great right hook.”
“Really, Dr. Anderson,” some other mother said, though she was smiling like she was amused. “Making a little girl fight for you?”
Grant held up his hand that wasn’t holding onto Lucky’s and said, “Surgeon. Gotta protect the hands.”
The woman rolled her lips in like she was fighting off a laugh, though some of the other parents didn’t look so amused. Grant pushed by the woman, and ignored the other parents and their kids.
Lucky followed behind him and, once they were in the car, Lucky got strapped into her booster in the backseat. The booster seat had initially kind of given Grant pause when Leo installed it, but he’d quickly just rolled his eyes at himself and thought, “You have a kid. Get over it.”
“Dr. Grant,” Lucky said. “What’s Mrs. Franklin gonna do? Is she gonna hate me now?”
Grant thought about the shiny new library Curtis was paying for, and Leo’s face when he was determined. “Well, carrot, if she does, she’ll regret it.”
“Yeah?” Lucky asked.
“Yup.” Grant pulled out of the school parking lot and said, “So ice cream?”
“What about dinner?” Lucky asked.
“Ice cream for dinner is a perfectly valid lifestyle choice,” Grant said.
“What about Daddy?” Lucky said, and Grant looked at her in the rear view mirror. She was looking out the window with a peaceful expression on her face. She sat still and quiet in her seat. Along for the ride.
“We’ll take a pint home for him.”
Lucky laughed. “No, silly. He’ll be mad that we ate ice cream instead of real food for dinner!”
“Oh,” Grant said, shrugging. “Maybe. But he’ll get over it.”
Lucky sighed.
Grant looked at her in the mirror again. She smiled and rested her head against the back of the seat.
“It’s okay to be mad sometimes, right?” she said.
Grant nodded. He reached back and patted her leg. “Yep. No matter what. You can get mad at me even. It won’t make a difference. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Yeah,” Lucky said.
She sounded sure, as absolutely certain as Grant.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Four Weeks Later
Grant had never been fucked like this before. He’d been fucked into the mattress; he’d been screwed against a wall, and in a sling, and bent over holding onto the side of the bed for dear life. He’d been fucked slowly, and badly, and boringly, but he’d never been fucked like this.
He’d never been penetrated by a trembling, wild-eyed Leo Garner who stared at his face instead of his ass, and bit his own lip, and looked like he might cry. He’d never been made love to like this. In his life he’d been fucked a lot, but what he was doing with Leo was an entirely new continent of sex, and it was kind of freaking him out.
When, earlier, Leo had looked at him through his lashes, flushing, and bashful, Grant would have agreed to anything. But when Leo asked him if he could be the one to…and he’d gestured at Grant in a ridiculous way that somehow made it clear that Leo wanted to try topping, Grant had been more than happy to say hell yes. It’d been a long time. Sure, he preferred to top, but being fucked was pretty great, so he’d helped Leo through the preparation, and reconciled himself to the idea that since Leo had never done this before, it would probably be over before it had even begun.
But Leo was taking his time. He was slow, and thorough, and taking long breaks to just stare at Grant with shining eyes, to lean down to kiss his mouth, and be inside of him.
Leo didn’t say much, didn’t make much noise at all, which was so different from when he was underneath Grant taking dick that it was confusing at first. But Leo’s intense gaze, the breathless wonder on his face as he stroked in and out in long, deep thrusts, made it clear that he loved it, and that he was overwhelmed in a completely different way.
When Leo had pushed in the first time, and Grant pressed down to open for him, Leo’s eyes widened with a strange look of near-fear that’d passed into trembling tenderness. Once Grant had grunted, adjusting to the girth of Leo’s cock, Leo had almost come right then. Grant knew by the way Leo fought it back, biting his lip and closing his eyes, taking long breaths in and out. It’d taken Leo ages to get all the way inside Grant, and Leo had to stop and breathe through the urge to come several times.
Now Leo’s lips were bitten red as he breathed, “Grant,” and then bowed his head. His face broke into such sweet emotion that Grant’s heart clenched. Tears stung his eyes.
I
t shocked him. It frightened him. He’d never felt this kind of thing before during sex. He’d felt love for Leo, and a need to bring Leo to a place like this, a place where Leo was open, and vulnerable to him, but this turnabout was something he’d never expected.
Grant took a shaky breath, and gazed at the pulse throbbing in Leo’s neck. Fear that Leo might see how out of control Grant felt twined through him. He was entirely out of control—not in a heated, crazed way, but in a fragile, slipping way that Grant could barely contain or understand. He was undone, like every bit of him was about to be exposed—his secrets, his weaknesses, his fears—and he couldn’t meet Leo’s gaze for fear that Leo would suddenly know them all.
Leo shifted on the next thrust.
“Ah!” Grant cried out, twisting under Leo as pleasure jolted like a livewire through his body.
“There,” Leo whispered, pride in his tone.
Grant keened as his cock ached, jerked, and spilled pre-come.
Leo stroked against his prostate again. Grant clenched his hands in the sheets and went still under Leo’s next thrust, groaning and breaking out into a sweat all over his body as the thrust hit the mark once more.
“Oh, God, Grant,” Leo whispered. “I love watching you.”
Grant ground his teeth together, twisting his hands in the sheets, trying to get a grip on his emotions. He shook as chills raced over him, and broken noises wrenched from his throat when Leo hit his prostate again and again. Grant’s cock flexed, enervated beyond endurance, a good grip would bring him to a screaming climax. But Grant clenched his ass as Leo stroked in hard, trying to hold it together, to hold on and not fall apart. Leo reached between them running his fingers lightly over the wet head of Grant’s cock, a zing of sensation that made Grant convulse. Licking the collected pre-come from his fingers, Leo said, “I love how you taste. I love it. I love you.”
Leo focused on Grant’s face again, like he couldn’t get enough of Grant’s pleasure, and the fuck grew even more intense. Leo was faultless in his angle of penetration, raking his cock over Grant’s prostate with every thrust. The jolting pleasure, the arcs of chills, and the buzz of too-much-but-so-good had set up camp in Grant’s pelvis and brain. He was freaking out. It wasn’t the sensations, it wasn’t the fuck itself, it was Leo gazing down at him, Leo moving in him, Leo acting like Grant was so fucking precious and loved.
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