by Tinnean
Or maybe not? Tadder’s palm lingered on his cheek for a second before Rush stepped away, pretending to look for something in the fridge.
Like a mini whirlwind, Becca came into the kitchen. “Phew. What a day. I’m glad it’s over and that I don’t have any classes tomorrow. So, what are you guys up to?”
“Guy stuff, Becca.”
Rush turned from the fridge and realized Tadder had been staring at his butt. Fortunately, Becca seemed unaware.
“Where’s Jan?”
“She switched days with me.”
“She wanted to spend the day with her boyfriend?”
“I guess, although she didn’t say.” Now that he thought about it, Jan hadn’t been acting her usual self lately, and he was starting to get a little worried about her.
“Hmm. I’ll give her a call and see if she’s having dinner with us. It’s my turn to cook.”
“Come on, let’s leave the kitchen to the little woman.”
“Watch it, hot shot. The ‘little woman’ can put things in your dinner that will make your life miserable.”
Rush barely paid any attention to the brother and sister banter that went on. Tadder had grabbed his wrist. It was an impersonal grip, nothing sexual about it at all, but Rush’s heart began pounding, his cheeks felt hot, and his dick started to get hard.
***
“COME ON, RUSH. I want you to listen to this CD. It’s their last studio album—All About Chemistry.” Tadder seemed unaware of his condition.
Relieved to have an excuse to leave the kitchen, he followed Tadder down the hall, through the family room, and down another hall. Tadder’s and Becca’s bedrooms were at the far end of the house. Rush had never been in either of those bedrooms, although he’d had some pretty hot fantasies revolving around Tadder finding him alone in the house, dragging him into his room and stripping off his clothes and having wild monkey sex with him.
Did Tadder really want to listen to music with him? Did he maybe want to do something more? Maybe something physical?
No, of course not. Why would he want to do anything with someone like Rush, who was older, shorter, and inexperienced, who was ordinary and… ordinary?
“I should really go to my room and change out of these clothes.”
“Okay.”
He sighed, his erection deflating. Well, that just went to show how interested Tadder really was. He backtracked to another hallway that led to his bedroom. Mr. Jack had built so many additions to this house that its original shape and style was obscured.
He opened the door and padded across the carpeted floor to the closet that held his shirts and trousers. He toed off his shoes, then reached for a pale blue shirt.
“I’ve never been in your room before.”
Rush let out a yelp and wheeled around, dropping the hanger with the shirt on it and pressing a hand to his chest. “What are you doing in here?”
“Well, that’s rude.”
“No, it isn’t. It’s a simple question.”
“Well…” Tadder flushed a little, which was kind of interesting. Why was he blushing? “I was afraid you’d use that as an excuse not to… to listen to music with me.”
“I was coming back.”
“Were you?”
Rush nodded. He’d just stay in Tadder’s room a few minutes, soak in memories to hug close to him when he was a lonely old man in his lonely one-bedroom apartment, and then he’d—
“Earth to Rush! You in there, boy?”
“Oh. Sorry. What did you say?”
“I said hurry up and get changed. Becca will have that meatloaf ready before we know it, and then she’ll call us to fix a salad and set the table. And there will go our alone time.”
“Just give me a minute.” He stooped to retrieve his shirt, his thoughts whirling. This bedroom didn’t have an attached bath. Should he take his clothes down the hall and get changed in that bathroom? Should he strip in front of Tadder and put his clothes on in front of him? He worried his lower lip.
“Here,” Tadder said as he took the clean shirt and draped it over his shoulder. “Let me help you get started.” He raised his hands and got to work undoing the buttons.
Rush stood there, frozen with desire.
Tadder brushed the shirt off Rush’s shoulders to have it land on the floor and stared down at his torso. “You’ve got Pepto Bismol on your undershirt too.”
“That’s okay.” He reached for the shirt on Tadder’s shoulder.
Tadder cupped Rush’s cheek in his palm. “That has to be sticky. Now raise your hands.”
Rush did as he was ordered, and the shirt he held flopped over his face. Jesus, could he be any more gauche? “I’m sorry.”
Tadder brushed it aside
Oh my God! He’s staring at my mouth. Does he want to kiss me?
“Yes, I do want to kiss you.”
Rush had said that out loud? “Excuse me while I drown in a puddle of mortification.”
“Don’t, babe. If you don’t want me to kiss you, then I won’t.”
“Oh, fine. Put it on me.” In a fit of bravado—did Tadder really want to kiss him?—Rush thrust the clean shirt into Tadder’s arms and yanked his undershirt up over his head.
But then he spoiled it by clutching the undershirt to his chest.
“Don’t be embarrassed. I’ve seen you shirtless plenty of times in the pool.”
That was right. God, he was being such an idiot “Just give me a minute.” He dropped the undershirt, took back the blue shirt from Tadder, and shoved his arms into the sleeves. Fortunately, his fingers didn’t fumble as he buttoned it.
He went to the closet and found a pair of jeans. He’d never worn them back in Atlanta, but here in Savannah—JT had suggested he try a pair, and he’d really liked them.
He stood with his back to Tadder and stepped out of the stained trousers and into the jeans.
“Let’s go.” Tadder grabbed his arm and tugged Rush after him.
Okay, he’d put the clothes in the hamper later.
They retraced their steps back to Tadder’s bedroom, and for the first time, Rush was in the room of the man of his dreams.
“Let me just find the CD. I’d like to know what you think about it,” Tadder said as he closed the door. “Sit down and take a load off.”
Rush looked around. There was a comfortable chair by the desk, but it was piled high with books and clothes.
“Um….”
“Sit on the bed, okay?”
Rush’s head whipped around, but Tadder crouched in front of a CD tower and was busy searching for the CD to put in the player. He swallowed and sat gingerly at the foot of the bed. The mattress undulated under him, and he realized that what he’d thought was a king-size platform was actually a water bed. Since this fall had been a very mild one, the summer comforter with its dolphin motif was still on it. A mountain of pillows was piled at the head of the bed.
The music came out of the speakers, the lead singer warbling about finding someone to take to bed.
Bed? With Tadder? Rush swallowed back a moan.
He flushed and grew hard all over again, and while he tried to think of something to say, all the images in his mind revolved around Tadder joining him on that bed, molding his hand over Rush’s dick, and rubbing him enough to bring him to the edge of what he knew would be the most fantastic climax…. Rush shuddered. Oh God, he wanted Tadder’s hands on him so badly.
He crossed his legs, placed his elbow on his knee, rested his chin in his hand, and smiled weakly at Tadder.
Tadder grinned, and Rush felt heat rush to the roots of his hair. Did Tadder know how hard Rush was? Tadder walked to the bed, spun around, and flopped down on it, his arms outspread.
The bed undulated beneath them, and Rush almost toppled over. He would have sworn he felt Tadder’s
fingers graze his thigh, but when he looked, Tadder’s arms were stretched above his head. His shirt had ridden up, exposing the smooth, rippled expanse of a six-pack.
Rush wished Tadder didn’t have to shave his body hair, but it was a prerequisite for being on the swim team. He remembered from last summer the very pale blond treasure trail. Being unable to stroke it had driven him crazy.
“This is comfortable, isn’t it?”
Rush’s mouth was dry, and he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the muscled expanse of abdomen. Tadder’s tan was fading, but it was still noticeable.
“Rushboy?”
“Uh... yes, it’s a very comfortable bed. I guess you need one this big because you are. Tall, I mean.”
“Yeah.” Again there was that soft touch to his thigh, and this time when he looked, Tadder was scraping his fingernail against the side seam of Rush’s jeans.
“Are… are you trying to seduce me, Tadder?”
“I’m glad you didn’t call me Mrs. Robinson.”
Rush swallowed and tried to pin an expression on his face as if being seduced by tall, gorgeous men was an everyday occurrence.
“Would you mind if I were?”
“Mrs. Robinson? Well….”
“Ass.” Tadder reached up and cuffed his shoulder. “I’m serious.”
Rush’s eyes went to the door.
“I locked it.”
How had he missed hearing that? His mouth even drier than before, he swallowed again and licked his lips. “If this is a pity thing…”
“Rush…”
“Look, I made a fool of myself in the kitchen…” And again in his own bedroom. “…but...”
Tadder surged up, got his arms around him, and twisted so that when they toppled over, Rush was sprawled beneath him.
“It’s not a pity thing, and you didn’t make a fool of yourself.” Tadder leaned up on his elbows and framed Rush’s face between his palms. “I’ve been waiting forever to have a reason to kiss you.”
“For… forever? But you haven’t known me forever.”
“Well, nine months. In gay terms, that’s almost forever.”
In spite of himself, Rush laughed.
“Would you mind if I kissed you?”
Rush felt his eyes grow huge. “You… you really want to kiss me?”
“Well, duh. I wouldn’t be lying on top of you if I didn’t want that.”
No, he guessed not. “And… and I guess that isn’t a rocket in your pocket.” Tadder’s erection was heavy against his own.
Tadder smiled down into his eyes. “No. I’m really, really happy to see you. Now would you mind answering my question?”
Rush ran his fingers through Tadder’s thick, blond hair. “I wouldn’t mind at all if you kissed me, Tadder.”
“Awesome.”
He closed his eyes and parted his lips, and waited. And waited. “Uh… Tadder?” He opened his eyes to see those vibrant blue eyes staring down into his face, and a flush mounted his cheeks. Was Tadder going to start laughing at him? Was he going to tell him it was all a big joke and that Rush wasn’t worth kissing? Was he…
Tadder ran his thumb over Rush’s lower lip, and Rush couldn’t help whimpering.
“You don’t remember me, do you?” Tadder asked.
“What?” He wanted to talk now, when they could have been kissing? “What are you talking about?”
“About a year and a half ago? You were sitting in the Copperleaf having a cappuccino.”
“I was?” Rush frowned at him. “A year and a half ago?” That was when he’d first arrived at P&J and had been so stressed about whether or not he’d have the funds to go on with a master’s degree he didn’t have much use for. “Wait, and you remembered me? Are you mad at me?”
Tadder smiled down into his eyes. “Well, I guess I’ll have to see you remember me from now on.”
“Oh, Tadder, I’m so sorry—”
“Shhh, now. I’m savoring the moment.” Warm breath washed over Rush’s lips, followed by an even warmer tongue that licked the curve of his lower lip. “Luscious.”
“Excuse me?”
“Your lower lip has been driving me crazy. I’ve been dying to know what it tastes like.”
“And… and you really think it’s luscious?”
“Oh, yeah.” Tadder nipped it, traced the line of Rush’s upper lip, teased the seam, and finally settled his lips on Rush’s, urging them to part and slipping his tongue into Rush’s mouth.
Warm, moist, a tickling sensation that seemed hotwired directly to his dick. Rush whimpered once again and lost his head. He began sucking on Tadder’s tongue. This. This was what he’d wanted, what he’d been looking for without even knowing it. His girlfriend in high school hadn’t given it to him, but this man in his arms was.
“’ey! ’ey! I gonna need that!”
Rush’s eyelids shot open as he realized how strongly he was sucking on Tadder’s tongue, and he yanked his mouth away.
“I’m sorry! I hurt you!”
Tadder stroked his cheek. “It’s okay. No lasting damage.”
“How can you joke about it? I could have sucked your tongue out of your head.”
“Daddy always said I talk too much. Hey, I’m kidding. It is okay, Rush.”
Rush had to believe him. Something hard was nudging his dick, and it wasn’t a roll of quarters in Tadder’s pocket. Involuntarily, his lower body arched up, and Tadder grinned down into his eyes.
“Now…” He treaded his hands in Rush’s hair. “Stop worrying about it. I’m going to kiss you, very hard and very thoroughly.” He spoke in a smarmy, upper-class British accent that, combined with his Georgia accent, made Rush laugh giddily. “And then I’m going to kiss you again.”
“Yes, please.”
Before he did though, Tadder ran his lips from Rush’s collarbone over his Adam’s apple to his earlobe. He sucked it into his mouth, tested its texture between his teeth, then dipped his tongue into Rush’s ear and blew gently, and Rush shuddered.
“There now. You’re gonna follow me anywhere now, aren’t you?”
Blindly, Rush turned his mouth to Tadder’s. “Yes!” he moaned. Feeling daring, he slid his hands under Tadder’s waistband and found a double handful of Tadder Jackson ass under his palms. He kneaded and squeezed the warm, firm, naked flesh, then let his fingers wander into the crevice between Tadder’s cheeks.
Tadder groaned, his hips jerked, and he came, triggering Rush’s climax. Rush held him while he shivered and caught his breath, shivering a little himself.
Okay, he’d expected a little more of his first time, like the opportunity to at least get naked, but if this was all he was able to get, he wouldn’t be greedy about it. This would fuel plenty of jerk-off sessions, and he’d be satisfied with that.
“Oh God, I’m sorry, babe. I don’t usually come so fast.”
“It’s all right.” Rush stroked his back, trying to memorize everything—the way Tadder felt lying on him, the musky scent of their mingled climax, the feel of Tadder’s slight stubble abrading his cheek. Everything.
“No, it’s not all right, but I’ll do right by you next time, I promise.”
“Next time? There’s going to be a next time?”
“Well, yeah.”
He’d just died and gone to heaven, the more so since Tadder was promising him a repeat. No lonely jerk-off sessions. This might not last forever, but he’d cherish it for as long as it was his.
Rush tightened his hold on Tadder, opened his eyes, and smiled up at the ceiling.
“Okay.”
***
THEY MADE a tight pair, a couple. At least that was the way Tad saw it.
At first he’d been afraid that with Rush living at the ranch and constantly around, the excitement of their affair, so shiny and new, would
wear off, but instead of it fizzling out, it just kept getting better and better, and he basked in the euphoria, doing things with Rush—and not all of them sexual—that he’d never even considered with any of his former boyfriends or girlfriends.
Those hadn’t been love affairs, it occurred to him, not the way his relationship with Rush was a love affair.
The thing was, how did Rush see it? In spite of his enthusiasm for whatever Tad wanted to try with him, he always seemed to hold a bit of himself back, as if anticipating the day when it was over.
Okay, it was nine months since he’d discovered Rush in the kitchen with a spoon and a bottle of Pepto Bismol, and yeah, maybe it was a smart thing, both of them accepting that at their age they weren’t ready to settle down, that eventually they’d go their separate ways, just as he and Andy and all his guys and gals had done, but it didn’t feel smart to Tad. It felt more like a self-fulfilling prophecy, and he didn’t like it one single bit.
In fact, he hated it.
And what was up with Rush barely taking the time to luxuriate in the afterglow of an orgasm that was pretty damn fine, if Tadder said so himself, before he’d kiss Tad’s cheek, murmur “thank you,” and climb out of bed to return to his own room?
At first it had been gratifying to know he had reduced his boyfriend to a gibbering mass of incoherence who could only murmur, “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” but now he wanted more. He wanted Rush beside him when he woke in the morning.
It was happening again. Rush brushed a chaste kiss over Tad’s lips and opened his mouth. He was going to thank Tadder and leave him to sleep alone in what was becoming an increasingly more lonely bed.
As far as Tad was concerned, this was one time too many. He sat cross-legged on the bed, the sheet pooled in his lap, caught Rush’s hand, and tugged lightly. “I wish you’d stay.” He glanced at the clock on the nightstand, which read 1:25. “Please. Don’t go. It’s early.”
This felt like Romeo and Juliet, where Juliet swore to her lover that it was a nightingale, not the lark signaling the dawn, and begged him not to leave. Did that make him Juliet? He frowned. On the whole, he thought, he’d prefer to be Jules.
