The dog trotted past him and Logan began to call it back, afraid the glass would damage the animal’s paws, but he stopped when he saw where the dog was headed. The side of the room that faced the water appeared to be several panes of glass that were meant to slide open and fold in on themselves so that the entire wall of glass could be opened. There was a balcony beyond the windows and standing in front of the railing was Dom.
He was still wearing the same clothes he’d been wearing at the funeral earlier in the day, but now they clung to him as the heavy rain drenched him. His back was to Logan so he couldn’t see Dom’s expression, but he didn’t need to either. Pain radiated off him in waves and his entire body was stiff and unmoving. Logan stepped carefully over the broken glass and then went out onto the balcony, his senses on high alert as he noted the blood that dripped from Dom’s right hand which was clenched in a fist at his side. The dog went onto the balcony ahead of him, but stopped short of actually touching Dom. He whined and dropped down near Dom’s feet, but the man took no notice.
“Dom,” Logan said quietly as he gave the man a wide berth and approached slowly from the side. Blood mixed with rain as it pooled next to Dom’s foot. He couldn’t see the injury itself, but judging by the amount of blood, it wasn’t life threatening. “Dom,” he said again, a little bit louder. He was standing next to him now and wasn’t prepared for what he saw – absolutely nothing. It was like the man was already gone and someone just needed to place his body in the ground next to his beloved wife. Water ran down his skin in rivers and the fabric of his shirt was so drenched that Logan could clearly see the outline of his body. Anxiety went through him as he realized how much worse this situation truly was.
Tentatively touching Dom’s clenched, bloody hand, Logan called his name again and was pleased to finally see a reaction. But when Dom just looked at him blankly, unrecognizing, Logan shuddered at the emptiness he saw. A month ago this man had exuded confidence, desire, passion – now there was just a shell, a mass of bone and muscle and nothing else. His skin was ice cold, his expression hollow.
“Jesus,” Logan muttered and his concern turned to all out fear. He ignored the blood and grabbed a hold of Dom’s hand and tugged. He was shocked when Dom rocked forward at the motion. Quickly recovering, Logan pulled Dom away from the edge of the balcony and into the bedroom. He was glad Dom still had his shoes on because the glass was everywhere and there would have been no way he could have maneuvered the man around it if he’d been barefoot. He flipped on the light as he got them into the bathroom and then reached into the massive shower and got the water going. Warmth – he needed to get Dom warm and then he’d be okay. He’d snap out of this fog he was in.
Logan ignored his own soaked clothes and began working the buttons of Dom’s shirt. It was like trying to undress a statue. When he reached Dom’s hand to pull the shirt off, he carefully pried open the clenched fist, then stopped when he saw the pieces of glass embedded in his palm. He was torn between tending to the injury and getting Dom warm. Shit, he was so far out of his league here, he thought, as he plucked the bigger pieces of glass from the shredded skin and tossed them into a nearby wastebasket. He finished working the shirt off, then quickly stripped Dom the rest of the way down. As he pushed him into the shower, he hoped the warm water would elicit some type of response, but Dom continued to stand there, blind to everything around him.
Logan hesitated, then began stripping his own clothes off. Hurrying so he wouldn’t think too much about what he was doing, Logan stepped into the shower with Dom and forced him to stand under the spray. He didn’t need to worry about any awkward sexual tension because the man didn’t notice him at all. And Logan was feeling nothing but anxiety at the continued lack of response. Ten minutes passed, then another ten before Logan finally felt some of the cold start to recede and Dom’s skin began to flush with the heat. As they stood there, Logan tried to offer comfort by rubbing Dom’s back, but if the man felt his touch, he didn’t show it. When he was satisfied that Dom’s body temperature was starting to return to normal, Logan stepped out of the shower, leaving Dom under the spray. He went in search of dry clothes for both of them. He snagged some pajama bottoms for Dom and some sweats for himself, then hurried back to the bathroom where Dom stood as he’d left him.
Another gentle pull had Dom standing on a bathmat as Logan quickly ran a towel over him and then worked the pajama bottoms on. “Dom, can you hear me?” he asked softly as he worked. Nothing. He checked Dom’s palm and then rummaged around the bathroom cabinets until he found some tweezers. Dom stood there mutely as he picked out the remaining pieces of glass he could see. As he dug around the wound, he finally saw a response from Dom when he flinched in pain and Logan nearly sighed in relief. It was something at least.
He cleaned the injury as best he could, then wrapped it with some bandages he’d found. He led Dom out of the bathroom and said a prayer of thanks when he saw that there was no glass between them and the bed. He backed Dom up until his legs hit the bed, then forced him to sit.
“Dom,” he said again as he touched the man’s shoulder. Sighing in frustration at the continued silence, he turned to go back to the bathroom to collect their clothes.
“She’s gone.”
It was barely a whisper, but Logan heard it and turned back around. Dom was still staring ahead, but instead of emptiness, his dark eyes were filled with agony and realization. Logan sucked in a harsh breath at the sight of the tears welling up.
“I’m sorry, Dom,” Logan said as he dropped to his knees in front of him.
“She’s gone,” Dom said again, his voice hoarse from lack of use.
“What can I do?” Logan whispered, his own throat closing with emotion. “Tell me what I can do, Dom.” Dom’s eyes finally connected with his and it was like a physical blow.
“Make it stop hurting.” Tears fell down Dom’s checks. “Please Logan, make it stop hurting,” he begged.
Logan shook his head and pressed his forehead to Dom’s. “I don’t know how.” And then he felt Dom’s lips seeking out his own. It was brief, barely even a kiss and then Dom was pulling back. Logan knew he should let Dom go. He should put the man under the warm covers and then find someone who knew how the fuck to deal with this because he had no idea what the hell he was doing. But instead of reaching for the phone, he reached for Dom and settled his mouth over the tear stained lips. Dom let out a sigh and then opened to him.
The kiss was the opposite of the first one they’d shared in the hotel that night, but the desire was the same – instantaneous. And Logan couldn’t blame it on the circumstances because he was the one consuming Dom this time. Every gentle thrust of his tongue inside the warm mouth beneath his had his body screaming for more. Luckily, he held on to a shred of sanity and remembered that Dom was at his most vulnerable right now. So he kept the kiss soft, comforting and used his thumbs to brush at the damp trails of tears that ran down his cheeks.
When Logan started to draw back from Dom, the larger man’s hand closed around the back of his neck and held him there. Dom’s tongue desperately dueled with his and then suddenly they were both on their feet, hands searching, skin burning skin wherever it touched. Things quickly spiraled out of control for Logan when he felt Dom’s hand push beneath the waistband of his pants and close around his stiff length. Everything else ceased to exist when Dom stroked him and then fingered the slit on his crown.
“Jesus, shit,” Logan cried out as he thrust against Dom’s hand. Before he could finish the thought, Dom’s tongue was back in his mouth, teeth clashing against his in desperation. Dom’s hand released him, but only long enough to push his sweatpants down. Before he could even protest, Dom was stroking him again and when he looked down to watch the rough hand squeeze him, his brain finally registered that somewhere along the way, Dom had rid himself of his own pants.
“Dom,” Logan said as he put his hands against the man’s broad chest to stop this craziness.
“Please,” D
om said as he brought his eyes up to meet Logan. They both stilled, only their harsh breathing breaking the silence between them. He watched Dom reach into the nearby nightstand and shuddered when he pulled out a bottle of baby oil. Everything was happening too fast, but Logan was helpless to stop it. He wanted this man – it made absolutely no sense, but he wanted him more than he’d ever wanted anyone in his entire life. But Dom was hurting and he needed to be the strong one.
“Dom,” he tried again.
“Just for a little while Logan – please take the pain away for a little while,” Dom muttered as he snapped the cap on the bottle open.
Dom didn’t wait for an answer. He released Logan and turned away and then bent down over the bed, his ass on full display. Lust tore through Logan at the sight of Dom pouring the oil on his fingers and then working those fingers between his cheeks. His cock ached painfully at the sight and he found himself moving closer, his hands parting the globes of Dom’s ass so he could watch the man work the oil inside his quivering hole. Any thought of stopping this fled as he imagined thrusting into that tiny opening.
“Now,” Dom ordered as he reached behind him and sought out Logan’s cock. Logan realized there was something off in the man’s voice and he tried to pull back, but then Dom was impaling himself on Logan’s cock and Logan shouted as he was enclosed in the hottest, tightest grip he’d ever experienced.
“Fuck,” Logan cried out as he thrust hard and his crown disappeared into Dom’s hot body. He felt the powerful man beneath him grunt as he pulled back and pressed forward several more times. Even with the oil, Dom’s body resisted him, so Logan grabbed Dom’s hips and pushed hard. Dom’s groan was muffled by the bedding, but Logan didn’t miss how wrong it had sounded. He ground to a halt as he realized that Dom’s shouts and grunts were from pain, not pleasure. Horror slammed through him at what he’d done, how thoughtless he’d been.
“Don’t stop!” Dom yelled as he tried to push himself down further onto Logan’s length. But Logan’s eyes were open now and he realized what the man was doing. He gripped Dom’s hips hard, not allowing him to force any more of Logan’s body into his.
“No,” Dom cried out as he collapsed onto the bed, his fists clenching the comforter. Sobs wracked him as he realized that he wasn’t going to be able to escape the pain inside by using Logan’s body to inflict pain on the outside.
Logan knew he should pull out because this was beyond fucked up. His own body was still tight with need, but it didn’t compare to what he felt inside as Dom’s mournful moans fell from his lips.
“Shhh,” Logan whispered as he leaned over Dom’s back, careful not to press further inside of him. His only goal now was to comfort, so he kissed the back of Dom’s neck, then ran his tongue all along the soft skin of his collarbone. He removed one hand from Dom’s hip and stroked it up Dom’s spine, his fingers gently pushing into each indentation. Dom shuddered beneath him and his moaning stopped. Placing his arm under Dom’s body, he stroked the man’s tight abdomen and then brushed his fingertips over Dom’s flaccid cock. He was pleased when it instantly responded to him, but he ignored it and stroked up Dom’s chest. The larger man lifted himself up enough to give Logan the space he needed to stroke and pinch Dom’s nipples. He felt the muscles around his cock tighten and Logan smothered his own groan of pleasure against Dom’s shoulder.
Logan kissed his way along the muscles of Dom’s back as his hand returned to his stiffening cock. When he squeezed, Dom let out a cry, this time one Logan recognized as pleasure. Another ripple on his cock as Dom reflexively clamped down on him. This time when Dom thrust his hips back, Logan let him. It was agony not to pound into him the way he wanted to. But he did start meeting Dom’s backward motion with small bumps of his own hips and a hiss of pleasure escaped his lips as he slipped further past the ring of muscle trying to keep him out. He continued to work Dom’s cock to match the rhythm Dom was setting and the pace quickly grew until Logan was fully seated. Pre-come leaked out of the head of Dom’s dick and Logan used it to increase his stroking. At the same time, he pulled out of Dom almost all the way and then slid back in.
“Yes,” Dom shouted as Logan hit his prostate. So Logan did it again, over and over in long, slow, torturous thrusts. His own body was screaming for his release, so he leaned harder against Dom, forcing the man’s body back down on the bed so his chest was flat against the mattress. Logan let his weight press Dom down as he began pounding into him while his hand increased the pressure on Dom’s cock.
Dom was crying out again, but this time he was begging for relief as Logan sawed in and out of him. Sweat dripped off both their bodies and Logan grasped Dom’s hip hard enough to leave a bruise as he fucked him over and over. Logan felt his own balls draw up tight against his body and moaned as his release suddenly ripped through him. Dom shouted beneath him and he felt the evidence of Dom’s orgasm coat his hand. Pleasure went through every nerve in his body like a flash fire as he emptied himself inside of Dom and then he gave up the fight and dropped all his weight onto the bigger man. Dom’s body went lax and collapsed into the soft bedding.
Several long minutes passed as the men fought to catch their breath. Logan finally lifted himself off Dom, then gently pulled free of his body. His limbs felt like jelly and he wanted nothing more than to sink down on the bed next to Dom, but stopped when he looked at the slick moisture coating his cock. He hadn’t worn a condom. He’d fucked a man for the first time in his life on the same day he’d buried his wife and he’d forgotten the fucking condom! How the hell had this happened?
He stepped back, trying to form the words to apologize to Dom, but then saw that the man had pulled himself further up onto the bed and had fallen asleep. Logan stood there for several long moments as the realization of everything he’d done started to sink in and he bit back the nausea that swept through him. He’d done an unforgivable thing. Shame crawled through him and he turned to go, but not before he drew up the end of the comforter so at least Dom would have some kind of warmth when he finally woke to the nightmare he’d been thrust into.
Chapter 3
Dominic Barretti didn’t want to open his eyes. He was still in that blissful state of light sleep where he knew he was on the verge of waking up, but not quite there. Already he could feel the disbelief that she really was gone knifing through his brain. Within seconds he was back to the gut wrenching pain that had him folding his body in on itself in an effort to ease the agony. Tears stung his eyes as he rolled over so he could stare out at the water and mountains beyond the glass door that someone had thought to close last night. Not someone…Logan. He would have thought it was all some twisted nightmare, but the stinging in his ass told him differently. Less than twelve hours after his wife’s lifeless body had been placed in the ground, he’d let someone fuck him into the same mattress he’d spent so many nights making love to his wife in. And he’d come harder than he ever had in his entire life.
Dom bit back the bile that rose in his throat and then forced himself to sit up. He swung his legs over the bed and sat there for a moment as he waited for the pain in his head to ease. He’d like to say he’d been drunk last night, but ironically, he hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol since his wife had slipped away. It would have been too easy to lose himself in a drunken stupor and Sylvie had deserved better than that. There had been calls to make, arrangements to see to. And when he’d arrived at their vacation home last night, he’d been too numb to even stop at the liquor cabinet. He’d barely remembered to leave out some food for the dog, and that was only because he’d seen a reminder from Sylvie to feed the animal – the note she’d left was from weeks earlier when they’d come to the house on one of their final trips. It was like she’d known that if she didn’t leave it stuck to the fridge, the Rottweiler would have been on the losing end of Dom’s prison of grief.
Dom tried to swallow, but his tongue felt too big for his dry mouth. He stood on shaky legs and stumbled into the bathroom. He held his head under the
cold water coming from the faucet in the sink, then sucked down several mouthfuls of the liquid. When he finally raised his head, he was startled to see the stranger looking back at him. Red rimmed eyes, pale skin, sunken eyes with black smudges under them. His hair was longer then he’d let it get in a while and the stubble on his face looked unkempt. Sylvie wouldn’t be happy to see him in this condition. He dropped his head and then made his way to the toilet so he could take care of business. He finally noticed the bandage on his hand, then remembered that Logan had taken care of that too.
The man had shown up like some fairy godmother, except he’d never heard of any fairy tale where the fairy godmother had fucked their ward into unconsciousness. And God help him, he wanted more.
“Fuck,” Dom said as he took a piss, then left the bedroom to hunt down some clothes. He stopped in the doorway of the bathroom and studied the bedroom. All the pictures he’d destroyed last night in his grief were gone, the glass cleaned up. Anger burned through him that Logan had seen to that too. The only one that he needed or wanted to take care of him was gone.
Dom dressed in a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt, then headed downstairs. Everything about the house was wrong now. It was cold when it should be warm, silent when there should be laughter. He’d wanted to escape the endless line of people that had tried to offer him comfort at their apartment in the city so he’d come running here. It was ridiculous to think that somehow things would hurt a little bit less in this house.
Dom went downstairs, his bare feet silent on the glossy floors. He slowed when an unexpected smell hit him, then came to a stop at the entryway to the kitchen. Logan sat at the island in the kitchen, a cup of coffee clenched in his tight hands. Rage soared through him at the sight of this man being in the place his wife should be. But before the words telling Logan to get the hell out could leave his lips, he saw a flash of moisture on the younger man’s face. His head was hung low, but Dom could see tears trailing down his cheeks and falling onto the countertop beneath him.
Logan's Need Page 4
