A Bluewater Bay Collection

by Witt, L. A.

  The only thing lingering was the results of his bloodwork. The flu could bump up his viral load, so tests like this were routine. I tried to follow his lead and not stress over them. If they weren’t cause for hand-wringing for him, then there was no reason—okay, no rational reason—they should be for me. So, as patiently as I could, I waited. The medical center here in Bluewater Bay was somewhat limited, so they’d had to send it to a lab in Port Angeles. That was only one town over, but God forbid these things happen quickly.

  Though he was back on his feet, he didn’t make any move to pick up where we’d left off in the bedroom. I didn’t know if it was apprehension about his results, or if he still didn’t feel quite well enough, but I didn’t push. At this point, I was just happy to see him healthy again.

  Almost two weeks after he got sick, the results were back.

  “So?” I watched him uneasily. “What does it say?”

  His heavy sigh answered pretty succinctly. “My viral load’s up.” He scowled. “I know it’s just a blip, but it’s always disconcerting when it happens.”

  “‘It’s always—’ This has happened before?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve been positive for years. It’s bound to happen once in a while.” He turned to me, and his features tightened. “Dude. Seriously. This isn’t that big of a deal.” He held up the test results. “For all I know, my CD4 count is back where it should be and my viral load is back to undetectable, but I have to assume I’m not until I get the next test back. It’s not a catastrophe.”

  I glanced at the paper in his hand, uneasy. No, not just uneasy. It was the kind of gut-flipping feeling I remembered having when glowing dots on a CT scan meant that despite chemo and radiation, the tumors were growing. Or worse, spreading. I knew it wasn’t the same this time, but tell that to my stomach.

  Jesse huffed sharply. “Jesus. Yeah, it’s disconcerting, but I swear, every time I mention my health is anything but perfect, you look like I just dropped some kind of bomb on you.”

  “I . . .”

  We held eye contact for a moment before he swore and tossed the results on the counter. “Okay, if we’re going to keep doing this,” he said, voice taut with anger, “we need to get on the same page about that.” He stabbed a finger toward the discarded paper. “It’s part of being positive. If you can’t live with it, then—”

  “Whoa. Whoa.” I showed my palms. “Easy. I worry about you. That’s all.”

  “We talked about this,” he snapped. “I had the flu.”

  “And you’re immunocompromised!”

  Jesse swore softly. “Come on. Remember how I said I’m usually the last person at the shop to get sick? Doesn’t that say something?”

  He had a point, so I nodded. “All right. Yes. It does. But you tried to go to work with a fever. How is that taking care of yourself?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe by making sure I can pay my rent so I’m not living in a cardboard box? And hey, while I’m at it, so I still have health insurance?”

  I exhaled. “So you work yourself into the ground, get even sicker, and have to take even more time off?”

  His jaw tightened. He took a breath like he was about to speak, but paused. Then he let that breath out. Shoulders sinking and features softening, he met my eyes. “I don’t want to fight about this.”

  I swallowed. “Neither do I.”

  “Then we need to lay down some boundaries. Like you said when I was still sick.” He took my hands in both of his. “I meant what I said before—if we’re going to do this, you’ve got to give me some breathing room when it comes to my health. I’ve been positive for a long time. Ten fucking years. I know what I’m doing, okay?”

  I pursed my lips.

  Before I could speak, he went on. “I know you’ve been through hell because of your husband, but every time you jump, it gets me worried too. I’m . . .” He gulped, eyes hovering between angry and pleading. “I’m more than this disease, all right?”

  My stomach somersaulted again, though not for the same reason. “I know you are. And I’m sorry.” I squeezed his hand. “Just . . . be patient with me. After Sean . . .” Oh hell, I am so not going there right now. I swallowed. “I’m trying. I promise. But you know it’s just because I care about you, right? Just like when I was a little too enthusiastic about taking care of you?”

  He nodded, gaze down. “I know. I . . . I know.” Sighing heavily, he ran a hand through his hair. “I guess I just need to know you see me as more than some fragile thing that’s going to break in a strong wind. And every time this comes up, I’m worried . . .”

  I stepped closer and put a hand on his shoulder. “About what?”

  Jesse chewed his lip and obviously avoided my eyes.

  “Talk to me, Jesse.” I squeezed his shoulder gently. “Whatever it is. This is all part of that learning curve, remember? Figuring out boundaries and all?”

  He nodded, exhaling. “I just . . .” He shifted his weight, still not looking at me. “It makes me worry you only see a disease when you look at me. And that it’s only a matter of time before it turns you off.”

  “Turns—” I almost choked on the word. “God, no. That’s the last thing that ever crosses my mind.” I touched his cheek. “You turn me on so much I’m lucky I can concentrate on anything else.”

  He looked up at me, chin still down.

  “I was worried about you. That’s all.” Caressing his cheekbone, I added, “I’m sorry, I just really care about you, and I was afraid—”

  He nodded. “I know. And . . . I wasn’t mad about that part. Just . . .”

  “I understand.” I moved my hand to his hip as I cautiously came closer, and when he didn’t draw back, I murmured, “I’ll work on it. On taking your word for it that you’re all right.”

  He searched my eyes, and after a moment, he started to slowly relax. “Well, um . . . now that I’m not sick, we can . . .” He nodded toward the bedroom, but his eyes flicked back to something else. When I followed their trajectory, I understood—the test results.

  “Relax.” I kissed him again and nudged him a step closer to the bedroom. “I’m not worried if you’re not.”

  Jesse chewed the inside of his cheek. Then he exhaled sharply. “Okay. And goddamn it, I was totally going to suggest we could start going bareback too.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. I mean, all our other tests are negative. So.” He shrugged. “We don’t really need condoms, you know? Or, well, we didn’t.” Rolling his eyes, he cursed softly. “Fucking viral load.”

  Pieces fell together in my head, and I suddenly understood why we’d still been sleeping separately even since he’d recovered.

  I touched his chin again and lifted his head so he was looking at me. “Is this why you haven’t wanted to do anything the last week?”

  He winced, lips tightening, and his eyes darted away.

  “Jesse,” I whispered. “Were you afraid . . .”

  The tight line of his lips thinned even more, and his cheeks colored. “After I told you my viral load might come back up . . . I was afraid to suggest doing anything because . . .” His color deepened as his voice trailed off.

  “What kind of assholes did you date before me?”

  His head snapped up and he eyed me, clearly startled by the question.

  “I knew you were positive before we ever hooked up,” I whispered. “We don’t even need to change anything because we’ve been careful from the start, you know?”

  Jesse swallowed.

  “When the new tests come back, we can talk about ditching condoms. But that doesn’t change anything right now. We were using condoms before you got sick. We’ll keep using them now. It’s no different. Long as you’re fucking me like you always do, I’m game for anything.”

  He searched my eyes, brow creasing.

  I wrapped my arms around his waist. “And quite honestly? The second you’re up for it, let me know, because I have been going out of my mind wanting you the last c
ouple of weeks.”

  That brought a relieved smile to Jesse’s lips, and after a couple of seconds, that morphed into a ridiculously sexy grin. He pressed up against me, running his hands up my chest. “Have you?”

  “I have.” I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him against me. “And I know things have been a little tense, and I’ve been driving you crazy, but—”

  He kissed me. Hard.

  Message received: Shut up and drive me crazy for real.

  I held him close and kissed him back just as hard, sliding my hands into his back pockets as I pressed my swelling erection against him. The low moan vibrating between our lips told me he definitely felt it, and he pushed back with his own cock.

  When he broke away, panting hard, his forehead was feverish against mine, but not the way it had been two weeks ago. “You know, my bed feels a bit too big when it’s just me.”

  “Yeah?” I kneaded his ass through his jeans. “Should we go make it feel smaller?”

  His lips curved into a grin against mine, and then his tongue was in my mouth and I forgot all about beds and rooms and places and . . . God, I’d missed this. I’d missed him. He’d been right here—close enough my proximity had annoyed him—but there’d been some space between us, and now that space was gone.

  Jesse broke the kiss. “Bedroom,” he panted. “Now.” He took my hand and led me down the hall. We shed our clothes, made sure there were condoms and lube in reach, and then tumbled onto the mattress and picked up where we’d left off.

  No, that wasn’t right. In the other room, we’d been much more subdued. Not in a hurry at all. Lying in his bed, naked and hard and out of breath, there was nothing subdued about us. I pinned him down, kissing him hungrily, and he hooked a leg around me as he rubbed his cock against mine. He dragged his nails across my shoulders, through my hair, up my sides. Sometimes they burned. Sometimes they almost tickled. God, I loved it. All of it. Everywhere and every way he touched me.

  The more we made out and groped each other, the more we trembled and groaned. The feverish hunger between us was intoxicating; all the desperation of the very first time combined with all the familiarity of two men who’d been together before—not only did we need each other so bad it hurt, we knew exactly how to turn each other on.

  And suddenly tasting his mouth wasn’t enough. I wanted to taste him everywhere. I broke away and started down his neck, and he rewarded me with a helpless moan as he arched off the bed. The heat of his skin against my lips nearly turned me inside out. Fuck. More. It had only been two weeks, if even that, but it had felt like forever, and I couldn’t resist exploring him like it was the first time all over again. I kissed and stroked every inch of his smooth, gorgeous body, pausing now and again to sink my teeth in just so I could hear him gasp. Flicking my tongue across his hipbone. Gently biting his nipple. Kissing the inside of his knee. Nothing and nowhere was off-limits as long as he squirmed and cursed and pleaded for more.

  As I neared his cock for the twelfth time, he kneaded my scalp, and there was some insistent pressure behind his hand. Some subtle—but not—guidance.

  I licked his skin and purred, “Something you want, sweetheart?”

  He moaned. “Garrett . . .”

  “Talk to me.” I couldn’t hide my grin, so I didn’t try. “Tell me what you want.”

  He forced out a breath, then lifted his head and looked down at me with a mix of arousal and aggravation gleaming in his eyes. “I want you to suck my cock.”

  This time the moan came from my lips, and I kissed just above his groin as a shiver went through me.

  “I’ll suck your cock,” I said. “Long as you fuck me good and hard after.”

  The response was a soft whimper, followed by, “Oh yeah.”

  He bit his lip and watched me kiss closer and closer to his erection. When I was less than an inch away, I realized he was holding his breath.

  “Don’t pass out,” I said, making sure my own breath whispered across his dick. “I don’t want you to miss any of this.”

  “Then quit— Oh God.”

  Eyes locked on his, I ran my tongue from the base of his cock to the head. He watched, eyes wide and lips apart, as I teased up and down the entire length. When I reached the base again, I lapped at his balls while I stroked him with my hand, and he sank back to the pillows with a strangled moan. His hips lifted slightly, then again, like he was fucking the air. Or like he wanted to fuck my mouth. “Jesus . . .”

  I took the head between my lips, and when he lifted up again, he pushed deeper into my mouth, releasing a ragged sigh as he did. My own balls tightened, and my cock got even harder, as if I were the one being blown. Groaning with pleasure, I gave him more, stroking him and teasing with my lips and tongue as he slid in and out of my mouth.

  “Fuck, you’re so good at that,” he ground out. “Oh God, Garrett . . .”

  The sound of my name gave me goose bumps. Something about that, about knowing he was still here enough to remember I was the one doing this to him, was hot. So I gave him more. I gripped him tighter. Swirled my tongue around the head. Squeezed with my lips. He was damn near thrusting now, hips jerking as he pushed his cock into my throat. Whatever he was saying, I didn’t understand it anymore, but I was pretty sure it was profane and peppered with attempts at my name.

  Abruptly, he grabbed my hair and growled, “Condom.”

  He didn’t have to tell me twice. I let him go and sat back on my heels, and we both lunged for the nightstand. Between the two of us, we made short work of getting the rubber on and slicking it up.

  “How do you want me?” I asked, still out of breath.

  “On your back.”

  I did as I was told, parting my legs for him. He pushed them farther apart as he guided himself in. He was more forceful than usual, but he watched my eyes, probably searching for signs of discomfort.

  The only discomfort here was the lack of his dick buried inside me, so I curved a leg around behind him and pushed his ass with my heel. “C’mon. More.”

  “More?” Jesse’s eyes danced with lust and playfulness. “What if I want to tease you?”

  I exhaled. “Oh baby, I need . . . C’mon . . .”

  “Look who’s begging now.” He withdrew a little. “How the mighty have fallen, hmm?”

  I bit back a growl. “Shut up and fuck me.”

  Jesse laughed. Sitting upright, he held on to the backs of my knees and thrust hard. Deep. I yelped in surprise, and yeah maybe a little pain, but it felt so good I thought I was going to black out. He did it again. Then again.

  “Like that?” he asked through his teeth.

  “So much.” I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to breathe as he pounded me relentlessly. “God, yeah, Jesse.”

  “You’re so hot like this,” he said. “I’d take a picture, but this is much more fun.”

  I laughed, and holy hell, I felt drunk. I looked up at him, then reached for him. “C’mere, you.”

  He let go of my knees. I grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him down and me up, and we met in the middle in a messy, hungry kiss. He kept thrusting, and we kept kissing, and it was sloppy and desperate and fucking perfect. He didn’t need any kind of rhythm as long as he didn’t stop. He was on top of me and in me and kissing me—what more could a man ever want?

  A tremor straightened his spine. He broke the kiss with a groan, pushed himself up on his hands, and fucked me like a man possessed. No rhythm. No finesse. Just eager, frantic hunger as he started to fall apart. “Oh Jesus . . . Garrett . . . I’m—” The sound he made was primal, almost pained, as he forced himself all the way in and shuddered. His hips jerked, and he tried to get even deeper, and then he sighed and collapsed over me, panting and shaking. I wrapped my arms around him to bring him all the way down.

  Jesse pulled out, but didn’t get up. Without even lifting his head off my chest, he reached between us and started stroking me.

  I gasped at the contact. Holy fuck, I was close. So close. Breath
coming in sharp, rapid huffs, I kneaded his hair and his shoulder. My hips couldn’t move, not with him still resting between my legs, so all I could do was lie there and let him jerk me.

  “Oh yeah, baby,” I breathed. “Yeah, just like . . . yeah . . .” I squeezed my eyes shut, held my breath, tried like hell to thrust into his fist, and—

  Abruptly, he moved. Before I could make sense of it, my dick was enveloped in tight, wet heat, and when his tongue swirled the head, I saw stars. Just a couple of licks, a couple of pulls, and I was gone, coming so hard I almost levitated off the bed, and Jesse moaned and hummed as he kept me going with more strokes, more teasing, until I begged him to stop.

  He did, and I collapsed onto the bed. A moment later, he was over me, kissing me languidly with my cum on his tongue.

  Only for a moment, though. “Gonna get rid of the condom.” He brushed his lips across mine. “Don’t move.”

  “Not . . . not going anywhere.”

  He laughed softly and stole one more kiss before he got up.

  I couldn’t say if I passed out or dozed off or what, but when I opened my eyes again, his head was on my shoulder, his warm body pressed up against mine under the sheet.

  “Did I fall asleep?” I murmured.

  “Mm-hmm.” He kissed under my jaw. “Think I did too.”

  “Oh.”

  “And hey.” He lifted up enough to look in my eyes. “Look at that—the bed doesn’t feel quite as small anymore.”

  Chuckling, I cuddled closer to him. “Just in case, we’d better stick to the middle.” I kissed his temple and murmured into his hair, “So we don’t fall off.”