“After all of this?”
“Absolutely! I always suspected that something had happened. I understand now.” I thought about what I wanted to say next, knowing I had to tread carefully or he’d retreat back into himself. “I have to be honest about something.”
He stayed silent, but the look on his face said volumes. He was afraid of what was next.
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. My nerves were a mess, not just from what he had just told me, but from the confession I was about to make. “I’ve known about the scars on your wrists for months. I saw them that first night, the night of our date to Burger King.”
His face went pale. His lips tightened, and his eyes narrowed. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because it wasn’t my place. I had to believe that when you were ready, you would tell me.”
He looked down at his wrist, his cheeks turning pink. “So, you’ve been with me this entire time out of what, pity? Were you afraid that if you didn’t date me, I’d try it again?” His voice was tinged with an odd mix of embarrassment and anger.
I grabbed his hand and held it tight, afraid that he’d try pulling it away. Without thought, my thumb traced the scar that ran up his wrist, as if my touch could make it disappear. “No, just the opposite. Even then I saw something in you, some spark. David, you’re a survivor. I wanted you to see that in yourself. I was selfish because I wanted to be the one to show you who you really were. I don’t pity you because there’s nothing to pity. I admire you. I respect you. I love you. I have for a long time, but I think almost losing you, finally brought that into focus.”
His eyes softened and his breath hitched. He studied my face for a moment, as if he were trying to see if I was lying. My heart ached for him to even have to doubt my words. But I knew it wasn’t me he was doubting. It was his past. Whatever it was he saw, however he read me, must have convinced him. In barely a whisper, he said, “You do, don’t you?”
Despite myself, I grinned. Maybe it wasn’t the right time, but I could see the realization dawning in his expression. His face, usually a mask he kept in place to keep the world at bay, that somehow, through some miracle, he had taken off for me, began to fade. “I really do. I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”
“Even after all this?”
“What do you mean, ‘even after all this’? Despite all of this. Everything you’ve been through has made you who you are right now. Every bit of strength, every ounce of courage you have is because of what you had to endure. No one gets through life unscathed. It’s what we do with those experiences that make us who we are. We can either let them destroy us or we can push through, survive them, and come out the other side better people. You are ‘better people.’ You’re kind and gentle, but also a fighter, a survivor. Your father tried to keep you down, and he failed. You tried to give up, yet that strength inside you forced you to push through. You faced hell, and literally have the scars to show for it. It’s those scars that prove you’re a fighter.”
He turned from me and looked down to where I still held his hand. Again, he whispered, “Then why am I always alone?”
The sadness in his voice cut me to the core. I didn’t want it to be there. I wanted to take that pain from him, erase it, make it disappear.
I let go of his hand and placed it on his cheek, gently turning him to face me again. “Because you were waiting for me, and just didn’t know it. Just as I’ve been waiting for you. You’re not alone. You’ll never be alone again.”
I leaned in and kissed him, softly at first, without need for anything but his comfort. My lips meeting his seemed to recenter him, to bring him back into the here and now rather than the past. My fingers traced from his chin to his jawline, memorizing every detail like a blind man learns brail. His breath caught when I reached his earlobe, and his kisses turned more frantic. My thumb and index finger gently caressed his lobe, and he broke from our kiss long enough to gasp, as if I had found his magic on-switch. I filed that piece of information for later use.
My hand found the back of his neck, and I gently pulled him further into me. If I could, I would have made him a part of me so he never felt alone again. I kissed along the same path my finger had just taken, peppering his chin with kisses until I reached my target. Taking that seemingly sensitive lobe between my teeth, I gave it a little nip, which earned me an involuntary squeak from David. Then I gently sucked it, pulling any unintended pain from him. I heard the sigh of contentment and felt his lips against my cheek curl into a small smile. All the while, my fingers kneaded the back of his neck, hoping to massage away any of the tension he held from the discussion we had just had. I felt his muscles slowly relax, and I briefly wondered if it were due to my lips at his ear or my fingers on his neck. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that I was doing it to him, for him.
I parted my lips ever so slightly, a silent invitation to something deeper and more meaningful. He took my cue, the tip of his tongue barely penetrating the small gape of my lips, but it was enough. Something unspoken passed between us, and we each gave in to what we wanted most. Lips and tongues parlayed for dominance, neither of us giving in, until finally I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed more. So much more.
I broke from the kiss and leaned into him, forehead to forehead. “Do you trust me?”
For a moment that seemed an eternity, I waited.
Trusting someone had caused David immeasurable pain, and I knew it wasn’t something he gave freely or lightly. I knew what I was truly asking with that question, and I simply prayed he found me worthy.
Finally, he answered, “Yes.”
My heart began to sing, and the air between us seemed alive.
I stood from the couch and he watched, confusion evident as I moved to stand in front of him. My own nerves began to get the better of me.
As I extended my hand, I prayed he would want the same thing that I did.
ADAM STOOD BEFORE ME AND extended his hand, his fingers shaking slightly. From nerves or excitement, I couldn’t tell. But one look into his beautiful brown eyes, and I had my answer. A nervous excitement seemed to radiate from them, and somehow that set me at ease. Here was a man who had significantly more experience than me, and if he was nervous he would know I would be as well. That, alone, made me feel safe.
I took his hand, and he gently tugged me from the couch to stand in front of him. We stood chest to chest, nose to nose, memorizing each other’s scent. His woodsy aftershave wrapped me in a blanket, and I knew that wherever I smelled that, whether he was in the room with me or not, I would always be reminded of him.
He repeated his question again. “Do you trust me?”
That time, there was no hesitation. In that moment, and perhaps for the rest of my life, I would trust him with everything. He had shown me, without a doubt, that he saw me as I truly was, despite the guilt and the scars. My answer was simple. “Yes.”
Relief danced across his features. He kissed me once on my forehead, then turned and gently pulled me across the studio to the bed.
“I want to make all of that go away,” he said. “All the pain and misery you’ve endured. You deserve to have someone that will make you happy. And, if you’ll let me, I’d like to be that someone.”
My breath caught, and I began to answer, but the words died in my throat as his lips crashed into mine. The world seemed to fall away until it was just me and him. His hands roamed my back, as my own found their way to his neck. I felt his pulse against my fingertips, and knew instinctively that his heart beat for me. My own heartbeat sent blood whooshing through my ears, muffling the sounds of my own breathy pants. The backs of my legs hit something, and I knew without looking that I was backed against my bed. I was so lost in the sensations of being with him that I never realized we had been moving the entire time.
Without a word, he gently nudged me onto the bed, and I fell backwards. I started to sit up, but he halted me with a raised finger. “You’re right where I want
you. Don’t move.”
I sat painfully still, body propped up on elbows as I watched him take one step back, then a second, then a third, his eyes never leaving mine. Desire unfurled itself within me like a flag waving in the breeze, creeping through every cell of my body until it reached my very core.
I wanted this man. More than I had wanted anything in my entire life.
As if sensing what I was feeling, Adam gave a wickedly knowing smile, and placed his fingers on the top button of his shirt. Slowly, methodically, he unbuttoned the first, then the second, then the third button. Then he stopped, and dropped his arms to his sides.
“Fucker!” I whined. “Stop teasing me.”
“Who says I’m teasing? What if I want you to finish what I started?”
My heart hammered against my chest, but I tried to maintain my composure. “You’re too far away. I can’t reach you.”
That wicked smile was back, and he retraced those three steps until his shins brushed the bedframe. I leaned up, took hold of the fourth button, and popped it through the hole, then did the same with the rest. His shirt fell open, exposing his wide chest dusted with hair that trailed down past his navel to disappear under the waist of his pants. His nipples stood erect, twin brown points begging for attention.
I placed both palms against his chest, feeling the downy soft hair against my fingertips, and gently swept my hands up to his shoulders, then down, catching the shirt on either side and gently sliding it down until it fell from his arms. My hands never left his body as they slid back down his chest. My own chest was virtually smooth, and it made me appreciate the feel of his chest hair against my skin. My hands brushed across his nipples, and he gave a short hissing intake of breath. So, his nipples were as sensitive as mine. Two could play this game.
Leaning forward even more, I latched on to one, laving it with my tongue before giving it a gentle nibble. All the while, my hand searched for his belt buckle and worked it undone. I moved to the other nipple, giving it the same loving attention I had given its companion, as I pulled his belt free of the loops. Adam hissed again at the same time his belt broke free of the final loop.
I dropped his belt to the floor and looked up at him. The same desire I felt was matched in the fire of his eyes. “You like me like this?” he teased.
“No,” I answered, reaching forward and popping the button on his jeans. Once unzipped, I took hold of his hips and slid this jeans and boxer briefs down his legs in one motion, his erection springing forward, looking so mouthwatering good, until they were trapped at his knees. “I like you like this.”
Where I found the courage to say what I did, I will never know. It was so completely out of character for me. Yet, it also felt right, in a dirty and erotic way.
He gave a lighthearted chuckle. “It’s always the quiet ones.”
“That’s because we have so much pent up. When we finally let loose, watch out.”
Before he could respond, I took his cock in my hand and lapped at the head. My tongue traced the head, licking it clean of pre-cum that had collected. He took a sharp breath and gently threaded his fingers through my hair, more to balance himself than to hold me in place. I licked his slit, collecting as much as I could, the taste that was undeniably Adam burst on my tongue, and then I dove onto him, taking him as far as I could.
“Relax your throat,” he coaxed. “Not too much. Don’t wanna hurt you, baby.”
The term of endearment alone was all the encouragement I needed. My own cock pulsed to life within the confines of my boxer briefs. In slow, steady movements, I did as instructed, and I was surprised and relieved at how much of him I was able to take. I wanted to make it good for him. In that moment, wanted to give him everything he had given me. I wanted to show him how much I loved him. How much I would always love him. I wanted to give him everything, to be his everything.
I gently bobbed, using my tongue to trace the underside of his cock, up and down until my tongue, my entire body, knew every ridge and vein. As I did, I took hold of his balls, caressing the scrotum with my thumb while my index finger wandered across his taint. Another jet of pre-cum spilled out, and I greedily sucked it down.
“Squeeze.”
And I did, just at the base of his cock where it joined his sack, not too rough to cause him pain, but just enough so he knew that I could do what was asked.
The unintelligible sounds he was making encouraged me to further explore. I rolled his balls in one hand and used the other to reach between his legs and trace the seam of his taint into the valley between his cheeks, all the while gently increasing my own suction. His babbling increased as I made my journey, and soon I found my prize.
Gently tapping on his opening rewarded me with another shot of pre-cum, and I gladly accepted. As if in perfect sync, my own cock let loose a shot of its own, coating the inside of my underwear.
I pulled away from his cock and withdrew my hand, looking up at him. He peered down at me, and our gazes locked. Fire, passion…and love burned in those brown pools, and my heart tripped. I only hoped that he read the same thing in my eyes.
With him watching, I licked my finger, making it as wet as I could. His eyes went wide, as if he knew what I was planning. I made a show of running my tongue up and around my digit before sucking it back in. Adam watched me with keen interest, his eyes wide and glassy. He licked his lips, and I knew it was an involuntary reaction to what I was doing.
Once I was satisfied my finger was properly wet, with it still in my mouth, I leaned forward, pulling my finger out and replacing it with his cock. With one hand, I took hold of his balls again and re-tapped at his entrance with my wet finger. I felt him relax, and I slowly nudged my finger in. The velvety smoothness of his entrance was not what I had expected. His hands came back to rest on my head, and he let out a small, almost imperceptible gasp. “More.”
I feared I would hurt him if I delved much further. Sensing my hesitation, he lowered himself, ever so slightly further, onto my finger and shifted, as if he were looking for something, using my finger to guide the way. I felt a hard cord of muscle at the same time Adam shouted, “There.”
His body shuddered, and more pre-cum shot across my tongue.
He rose up on the balls of his feet just a fraction and sank back down, over and over, forcing the pad of my finger to skitter across that same spot. At each pass, his breathing became even more erratic and his whimpers of pleasure even louder.
And then he stopped.
I could see the strain that one act caused him, to halt his own pleasure, and I wondered what would make him stop. He drew a shuddering breath, then said, “Something about this is wrong.”
My finger slid from his opening and his cock from my mouth as a wave of disappointment rolled through me. Had I done something wrong? Had I pushed across some unknown line and forced him to do something he was unwilling to do?
Sensing my trepidation, he hooked a finger under my chin and forced me to look up at him. The moment my eyes met his, I knew that all of my fears were wrong. He slowly bent before me, never breaking eye contact, until he and I were level. Then he leaned toward me until our noses were this close to touching. He whispered, “You’re wearing too many clothes.”
Heat spread through me, burning away my fears. Adam leaned into me, tilting his head at just the right angle to take me in a bruising kiss. Lips and teeth and tongues clashed, warring for dominance. With one hand at the base of my neck, he used the other to unbutton my shirt, and before I even knew what was happening, my shirt was completely open and pulled from my pants.
Adam broke from our kiss, and I was breathless as he sat back on his haunches, admiring his work. “I’ve said it before, but you really are beautiful.”
I turned away, embarrassed. He had said it before, and even after everything, I still had a hard time believing it. “No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.” He placed a hand to my head and said, “In here.” The he slid his other hand down my chest and under m
y shirt, placing it over my heart. “And in here.”
The hand at the side of my head slid to the back, and he gently pulled me to him, fusing our mouths together. His tongue pressed against my lips, and they parted on instinct, allowing him entrance. His hand on my chest slid up to the tender spot where my neck met my shoulder, his thumb skimming against my throat for the briefest of moments before slipping under the open collar of my shirt and traveling down my shoulder.
He pulled his lips from mine, and lowered his face slightly, kissing my chin. He traced my jawline with his tongue, licking until he reached my earlobe. Damn, but the man was a quick study, zeroing in on one of the spots of my body I hadn’t even known was an erogenous zone. His licks and nibbles at my lobe sent zings of electricity shooting through my body.
Just when I thought I couldn’t take anymore, he stopped. He gave a subtle chuckle. “You have goose pimples.”
“It’s your fault, you know.”
“Are you cold?”
“No. Far from it, in fact.”
“Good. Then you won’t mind this.”
Then he kissed and licked behind my ear, and those electric currents ramped up.
Tortuously slow, he kissed down my neck, pausing at the soft flesh between my neck and shoulder. He gave a soft nip, then a kiss to take away the sting. His hands slid over my shoulders, under my shirt, and down to my shoulder blades, dragging the shirt with them.
Nerves warred with that electricity. I had never been shirtless with him before. He would be seeing my body, and the full length of my scars, for the first time. The ugliness I kept hidden from the world would be exposed to him, and I feared I would lose everything. It was one thing for him to know about what I had done to myself and what had led to it. It was something entirely different for him to see it firsthand.
My shirt was off, and he began kissing a trail down my arm. He got to my elbow, and the panic set in. “Wait!”
I virtually shoved him off of me in my panic. He stumbled backward and looked at me, stunned. “What’s wrong? What did I do?”
Looking In Page 19
