Again, his smile was unreadable. Whether the idea sounded good to him or not, I couldn’t tell. “Okay, great. I’ll wrap the project up.” A familiar glint came into his eyes. “And then I’ll focus on your ass. I had plans for it last night, but I got… carried away.”
“Oh.” The switch was so abrupt that it threw me. My cock was quicker than my brain, however, and it sprang to life, thankfully hidden under the table. At least I supposed thankfully was the right word.
“That okay?” He sounded a bit nervous again.
“Oh, yeah. That’s totally, totally okay! More than okay.”
“Great.” He nodded, and Gilbert was back again. “I’ll wrap this up and then make up for feeding you a burnt breakfast.”
Lavender Shores was my dream home, but as I leaned against the railing of Gilbert’s front porch, I had to admit he’d chosen a location nearly as good. The sky and the surface of the lake battled to see which could pull off the deepest blue. The sky won, as the crystalline water around the shoreline was closer to teal. Though the cabin was near the edge of the cliff, it still felt part of the nature around it, not perched above it all. High enough to see the entire view, but the rocks under the shallower portions of the lake were still visible.
Though I’d pictured Gilbert in some fancy city high-rise, complete with marble entryways, doormen, and astronomical taxes, the few hours of the night before and breakfast had altered him in some way. This made more sense. In the trees, away from people, surrounded by beauty. A reclusive artist, not a wounded bird. Although I supposed he could be both.
I’d gone back to the kitchen to refill my coffee. Gilbert had been so intent on his design he hadn’t noticed the sound of the door or my movement. It hadn’t even felt weird to pause and watch him as I poured more caffeine into my veins. Gilbert himself was an art exhibit. His long chestnut bangs hung over his forehead as he worked. The fingers of his left hand drummed a rhythm as his right wielded a pencil. He chewed absentmindedly on his lower lip in a nearly seductive fashion, though he clearly didn’t notice my presence. I only lasted a minute before the urge to touch him became too strong and I returned to the porch, coffee in hand.
Yeah, this place suited him. Though, so did Lavender Shores. It had the same beauty. Actually, Lavender Shores seemed to fit what I knew of Gilbert more than the lake. This was serene and picturesque. Calm. Lavender Shores could be all those things, but there, the beauty was a bit wilder, more untamed, at least once you left the borders of the perfectly crafted houses and shops and entered the reserve. Gilbert seemed anything but tamed.
There I was, staring out at the gorgeous world, and trying to interpret the essence of Gilbert. Ridiculous. I pulled out my cell and swiped across the screen. It was more than ridiculous to log on to Facebook when surrounded by such nature, but I wanted my brain to be turned off. The last thing I needed, when it seemed there were very specific plans for my ass coming up shortly, was to get all cerebral and over-analytical about the man in the other room. The man who by the power of his kisses, sexual talent, and raspberry preserves was making my heart beat in a rhythm that wasn’t conducive to hooking up and walking away.
The breeze shifted, bringing a cool gust over my legs. I’d thrown on a sweater but remained in my boxers. Probably another stupid decision. I was going to have balls the size of raisins from the cold. Not exactly the image I wanted for whatever plans Gilbert had, but going back in seemed like too much work. And I didn’t want to disturb him.
Facebook did the distracting thing that it does so well. I scrolled past the nearly endless posts of our moronic president—he was literally the last thing I wanted on my mind before sex—and kept going until I saw a link for the new volume of the Saga graphic novels. I nearly clicked on it when I noticed I had a friend request. I tapped it instead.
Look at that. Turns out the idiot-in-chief wasn’t the last thing I needed on my mind before sex.
Levi Teller stared up at me from my phone screen. Handsome. Smiling. Looking every bit like a kind, honest, genuine man. Everything he wasn’t.
Teller.
I’d known him as Levi Mason.
I wanted to drop my phone, or throw it over the cliff, or drown it in my mug of coffee. Instead, it remained frozen in my hand. Levi watched me from the screen, waiting to see what I would do.
I’d figured this day would come. I would see his face somewhere, or worse, bump into the man himself. I thought I’d be prepared for it, but I wasn’t. Not now. Not here. Not with Gilbert so close and the things we were going to do. The things I was feeling, even if I shouldn’t be feeling them. I’d imagined I’d cry when I finally saw Levi, instantly grieve over what we’d lost. I didn’t feel that at all. I just wanted him to go away. To erase his face from my mind. From my memory.
A thought hit, and a certainty filled me. I tapped my messages, knowing what I would find. It wasn’t in the main section, the place for friends. It was in the Other folder. The one I forgot except for once a year or so when someone else would mention it on Facebook. I clicked its tab. Sure enough, there it was.
A message from Levi Teller.
If I opened it, he’d know I’d seen it. I could delete it and be done with it. Move on with the day. Refocus on the lake. Wonder what specific things Gilbert had in store for our bodies.
Of course I didn’t do any of that.
I tapped the message and read.
Hey Walden,
I’ve missed you. It’s been too long without seeing your beautiful face. I know that’s my fault, but it’s still true.
I hope you are well and happy. I hope you miss me.
I’m not sure if you’ll see this message. I sent you a friend request, so maybe you will. You changed your phone number. I thought maybe you’d blocked me, but I tried calling from a different phone, and it still didn’t go through. Got to be honest, that hurts a little. But, I understand. Like I said, I know it’s my fault.
I could hear him speak the words in my ear. The soothing cadence he had, the soft honey tone. Seductive yet innocent. How many times had his tone convinced me, even more than his words? Something would feel strange or just a touch off. I’d ask about it, and within ten seconds I was convinced that I was being dramatic or looking for issues when there were none. Even now, though the words said it was his fault, I felt the sting of accusation. I’d abandoned him. I hadn’t allowed him to explain. It was my fault, and we both knew it.
And all that was a lie. A fucking, fucking lie.
Yet still he whispered over my shoulder as I read.
I called your folks the other day. Barely got two words out before your mom hung up on me. Though I suppose that wasn’t much different from when we were together. I’d love to see you. I hate that I can’t call you, that I don’t know where you are. Knowing you, I bet you’ve made your way to Lavender Shores. I remember how much you talked about it. Maybe I’ll drive up there sometime. We have a lot to talk about.
I left Rachel. It’s over. It’s been over ever since you walked away. I’m sorry it took me this long to finally end it. But I did. For you, Walden. I left her for you.
I know you need time. I’m not going to stalk you or go all nutty. I promise. You deserve your space, and I’ll give it to you. But I deserve a phone call at some point. I’ll settle for messaging on here for now, if you want. But we should see each other. Everything will fall back into place when we see each other. I promise.
I have more to tell you, but it can wait until we’re together.
Let me know.
I love you,
L.
I read the damn thing through again. Just a tingle of fear creeping in. Alongside it, despite my determination to feel otherwise, a spark of hope flared as well. I’d spent months praying for a message like this. That he’d come out. That he wanted me. That we could have the life we’d been living again. At least the life I thought we’d had.
And now here it was. Longer than I hoped it would take, but it was here. He wanted me
back.
My God.
I hit the Home button, making the message disappear.
What the fuck was wrong with me? Thank God he’d taken so long to write. Any sooner and I might have given in. What I’d felt was a lie. All of it. Our years together were a lie, both of them. None of it was real. I’d been in love with a man who didn’t exist. I didn’t know anything about Levi Mason, or Levi Teller for that matter, besides the fact that he was a fucked-up, evil bastard.
And he knew I’d seen the message.
I clicked back on Facebook, moving as quickly as I could. I hadn’t noticed when he’d sent the message, so chances were high he’d written it the day before and he wasn’t waiting by his phone to see if it had been marked read. But I wasn’t taking the chance. I tapped his profile picture once more, this time not bothering to linger on his fucking face, then hit the ellipsis on the right of the screen and selected Block. It asked me if I was sure I wanted to block Levi Teller.
I couldn’t contain the laugh as I confirmed that I most definitely wanted to block the fucker.
He was gone again.
“What’s so funny? Find a good meme you can share?”
The transition from thoughts of Levi to the sound of Gilbert’s voice was nearly enough to rip the fabric of the universe. He was shutting the door and walking onto the porch as I turned toward him.
And suddenly, everything was fixed. Well, no, maybe not fixed, but all right. Just the sight of him brought relief. I was here, with this beautiful man, in this beautiful place, on a beautiful day. And Levi couldn’t touch me. I wouldn’t let him. This beauty was for me. Right here and right now.
I shook my head. “No, no memes. At least not a specific one. Just a whole slew of things about the president.” Not a lie. That was there before, and some had been funny. Kinda.
Gilbert grimaced. “Oh no. I’ll pass on those. The day is way too gorgeous to ruin with that shit.”
“I was just thinking the same thing, actually.” I leaned back on the railing, still facing him as he took a spot close to me. “Finished your design?”
“Yeah.” He nodded, then looked out to the water and a relaxed smile curved his lips. He had so many smiles. Most of them wicked and sexy, but here was a new one. And it only added to the day’s beauty. “Just scanned them and sent them off. I’m pretty sure she’ll love the design.” He gave a little laugh, and his brown gaze flicked to me for a moment. “If someone had told me that I’d be designing jewelry with Western stars as a theme, I’d have told them they had about a minute to run before I shot them. But the money is good.”
“You looked pretty happy while you were working, like you were proud of what you were doing. I didn’t see dollar signs in front of your face.”
His brows knitted, then smoothed. His expression softened further as he studied me.
“Sorry. I probably shouldn’t have said—”
“No, you’re right. I am proud of it. The design was good. I managed to keep my aesthetic while giving her what she wanted. An artist can’t ask for much more than that and hope to pay bills.” It felt like we were touching, though he was several inches away. It was strange, but nice. “You’re quite the observant man, Walden.”
I shrugged. “Well, I do have my masters in biology. I’m kind of a scientist. Part of why I love Lavender Shores so much. I could spend years wandering the woods or down by the ocean. I’m a trained observer.” I realized I’d just brought up another tender topic.
He didn’t seem to mind this time. “Scientist, huh. That means you teach science?”
I nodded. All too aware we’d treaded further into dangerous territory.
For a second it looked like he was going to ask more, but then, with a small shake of his head, he switched topics. “Not sure if you need more caffeine, but if you have all the energy you need for a couple hours of sex, now might be a great time for me to take you downstairs.”
Couple hours of sex?
Levi tried to enter my mind, but I told him to fuck off.
“You have a downstairs?”
“It was just a crawl space when I moved in, but I had it dug out and drywalled, then I made my version of a sex dungeon.”
I laughed, then noticed there was no humor in his expression. “Oh. You’re serious.”
“Yeah.” He licked his lips. “Does that freak you out?”
Made my blood quicken was what it did. As well as set off a warning alarm. I told that to fuck off as well. “Show me.”
His smile grew to the one I knew best. Sinful, lustful, and promising a very, very good end to the morning.
He led me back through the house and into the bedroom. He opened one of the doors that I’d figured was a closet, flipped on a light, and stepped in.
The brightly lit staircase down felt like the rest of the house, and then he opened the door at the bottom and flicked another light switch. It was unlike any sex dungeon I’d seen. But it fit Gilbert.
I nearly laughed. It was so him. An artistic, yuppie version of a sex dungeon. The space was striking. The far wall was brick. The other three matched the rest of the house, wood, rock, smooth drywall in a rich tone. Exposed industrial hardware and Edison bulbs. I grinned over at him. “Edison bulbs, really? I think the BDSM masters will kick you out of their club.”
Gilbert shrugged again, unconcerned. “I’m not into BDSM. No problem with it, and I can enjoy it at low levels sometimes, but it’s not my gig.” He pointed to a large cabinet, different toys and utensils on its shelves. “I simply like fucking, and I really like taking care of a man who’s a total bottom, like you.”
Sometimes I was embarrassed about just how much of a bottom I was, but the way he said it, like it was a good thing, a quality he was not only okay with but wanted, made my cock twitch.
“I might use restraints and stuff sometimes, but I can’t claim BDSM status. It would be like me saying I’m a cowboy because of my straw hat.” He gestured around the room, encompassing different benches, platforms, tools. “But like I said, I like to take care of a bottom. And while my dick is pretty great”—he winked—“sometimes I like to use a little assistance to really get the job done.” He walked over to me and gripped my cock through my boxers. “Feels like that sounds good to you.”
I nodded, all thoughts of earlier, or what was to come later, obliterated by the feel of his hand on me, the anticipation of what he might do.
He wrapped his fingers around the base of my cock, not bothering to remove the fabric, and pulled me to him, as he lifted his chin to bring his lips closer to my ear. “I want you in the sling. Get those ankles tied in the air, so I can open you up. Fuck your ass with one of my big dildos, see if you can take it and my cock at the same time.”
At the mention of the sling, all desire washed away. He must have felt my reaction, and he loosened his grip around my dick.
He took a step back. “What’s wrong? What’d I say?”
“You have a—” Even as I spoke, I looked around. Sure enough, behind us, secured under the slope of the stairs was a sling. Then the moment faded, Gilbert was gone, and I felt the leather around my ankles and wrists, the firm straps supporting my back, and countless hands over my skin.
Eleven
Gilbert
For a moment I thought Walden was going to turn around and run up the stairs. His flushed skin had gone white, even paler than normal. “Walden, are you okay?”
He shook his head and sucked in several breaths, his chest heaving. He pointed up. He seemed on the edge of a panic attack.
I nodded and took a step away, afraid for whatever I’d done to him. “Yeah, let’s go upstairs.”
He didn’t wait for me to lead, but hurried to the stairway and took the steps two at a time.
Shit. What the fuck had just happened? I’d been so certain this was going to be right up Walden’s alley. I’d figured he’d probably done something similar before, but if he hadn’t, I’d had no doubt he’d love it. Apparently, I was wrong. Very, ve
ry wrong.
Walden was nowhere to be seen when I got upstairs, though I was only a few paces behind him. Then I noticed the front door was open.
He really had run away.
I rushed outside, but found him waiting on the porch, gripping the railing and staring out at the lake. I shut the door and walked toward him slowly, not wanting to crowd him. I wished I knew him better. Knew if he needed space, if he needed me to touch him, or wanted to talk. I had no idea. I settled for stopping a foot or so away and looked out over the cliff as well. A similar position we’d taken just a few short minutes ago, but now the vibe had changed.
We stood silent for quite a while, and I did my best to keep from glancing over to check on him. I was mostly successful. His breathing slowed, and his shoulders weren’t quite as near his ears as before.
Finally he spoke, his whisper barely more than a rasp. “I’m sorry.”
And though I had no idea why, the guilty tone nearly broke my heart. I did touch him then. Just a quick squeeze of his wrist before letting go. “Walden, you don’t need to be sorry. I’m the one who’s sorry. I pushed too far. Too quickly. I… I made assumptions about what you’d enjoy. You don’t have to do anything with me that makes you uncomfortable.”
He cast an irritated glance my way.
Wow, I must really seem like a demanding asshole to him. “You really don’t. I’m sorry if I gave you the impression that you have to—”
His laugh was bitter. “You didn’t read me wrong. You didn’t make any mistake at all. It seemed you saw right through me.” He gave a forced smile before turning back to the view. “You have nothing to be sorry about. I’m the one who….”
I waited for him to finish but realized he wasn’t going to speak again. And maybe he wasn’t irritated with me. If irritated was even the right word. I wished Andrew was there. He was so much better at all the feelings shit. Or Lacy. Both of them always knew what the other person needed. I just knew how to say the wrong things and make it worse.
The Garden (Lavender Shores Book 2) Page 10
