A Bluewater Bay Collection

by Witt, L. A.

  In a way I hadn’t expected, coming here felt good. It was hard to see Sean’s grave, but it was comforting to see it with Jesse. And it made me see my relationship with Jesse in a new light. I hadn’t believed it was possible for me to feel anything for a man again, never mind that I’d find someone who understood what Sean meant to me. Someone who didn’t resent him or feel threatened by him. With Jesse, I felt like I had a shot at falling in love again, and I could do it without hiding, ignoring, or rushing my grief. Jesse didn’t just tolerate me talking about Sean—he encouraged it. He didn’t expect us to live in some kind of vacuum where Sean had never existed.

  Jesse was filling some of the space Sean had occupied, but he wasn’t filling Sean’s shoes. His presence didn’t make Sean seem less gone. The similarities between them, those little things my mind kept pouncing on, were just grief looking for something that wasn’t there.

  Sean wasn’t here anymore, but Jesse was.

  Standing there beside Sean’s headstone, I held Jesse a little tighter and kissed the top of his head. My worlds hadn’t collided today. Instead, they’d seamlessly come together, the edges overlapping.

  “You okay?” Jesse whispered without loosening his embrace.

  “Yeah. I think so.” We slowly parted, and I cupped his cheek. “I know I already said this, but thank you. For . . . all of this. Coming with me, letting me talk . . .”

  He smiled and lifted his chin to kiss me. Just a soft, chaste kiss full of comfort and understanding.

  As I drew back, I asked, “Ready to go?”

  “We can stay as long as you need to.”

  I glanced at the headstone, then back at him, and smiled. “I think I’m ready.”

  Jesse nodded, and I wrapped my arm around him as we headed back toward the parking lot. There were a million emotions swirling in my chest, but I felt a lot better than I’d expected to today. I’d take it.

  Someone else was coming up the winding rain-dampened strip of asphalt. As the distance between us closed, I realized it was my brother-in-law, Mark.

  He recognized me a moment later. As we neared each other, I realized he was eyeing Jesse, and my stomach flipped. Shit. This wasn’t how I needed Sean’s family finding out I was seeing someone new.

  But the cat was out of the bag now, so playing it cool was my only option.

  “Mark. How are you?” I released Jesse and extended my hand.

  “Garrett.” He gave me a curt nod as he shook my hand.

  Ignoring my nerves, I gestured casually at Jesse. “This is Jesse. Jesse, this is Mark. Sean’s brother.”

  Mark regarded him coldly, but offered his hand. “Hi.”

  “Hi.” As they shook hands, Jesse smiled uneasily, which gave me a chill. He’d picked up on the undercurrent of hostility too, hadn’t he? Which meant I hadn’t been imagining it. There’d never been a lot of love lost between me and my brother-in-law, but we’d been there for each other in Sean’s final months. The frostiness radiating from him now was damn near visible to the naked eye, though.

  He cut his gaze toward Jesse before looking at me again. “How are you doing?” The accusation was almost as palpable as the cold air between us.

  “As well as can be expected.” I kept my tone even. “One day at a time, right?”

  He grunted softly. “Yeah. One day at a time.” He gestured past us. “Well. I’d better . . .”

  “Yeah. Yeah. We should get going. It was good to see you.”

  “You too,” he said without a trace of sincerity.

  Without another word, Mark continued up the path. Over my shoulder, I watched him go.

  “I don’t think he liked me,” Jesse said.

  “He’s never liked me.” I put my arm around him again, and we continued toward the parking lot. “Don’t take it personally.”

  He was right, though—Mark was not pleased to see Jesse, and I didn’t have to ask why.

  Something tells me I haven’t heard the end of this.

  I didn’t dwell on the issue, though. I was worried, but far too distracted. My mind was a tangle of thoughts, and as we left the cemetery behind, my emotions started going haywire. I’d felt pretty damn good while I was standing beside the gravesite with Jesse, but leaving . . . Christ, that ripped at my seams. It pinged the same nerves that had driven me to fresh tears when I’d left Sean’s funeral. Nothing made his death more final than leaving him there in that quiet, empty park.

  I didn’t cry this time. The volley of feelings all seemed to try to cancel each other out. The relief that Jesse was beside me neutralized the pain at realizing Sean had been gone a full year. The crushing sadness over leaving the cemetery took the place where the previsit apprehension had been.

  By the time we were back at Fiona’s house, I was exhausted. From the visit, and also from the onslaught of contradictory feelings. I made it into the guest room, Jesse on my heels, and sank onto the foot of the bed as all the air left my lungs in a long sigh.

  Jesse sat beside me. “You okay?”

  I nodded, but I didn’t look at him. I stared at the carpet, trying to get a grip on the flurry of feelings in my chest. There were places in me that had just been numb and empty for the last year, and now emotions were bubbling up and filling those voids. Suddenly there were words and feelings that needed an outlet.

  “The last month or so before he died,” I said without really thinking about it, “I’d wake up every morning hoping he’d gone in his sleep.”

  Beside me, Jesse’s breath hitched, but he said nothing.

  I swallowed, the mix of emotions trying to tear my chest apart. “It wasn’t that I wanted him gone. I just . . . I couldn’t stand . . .”

  “You couldn’t stand watching him suffer.” Jesse’s words forced a breath out of me.

  Closing my eyes, I nodded. “There was nothing in the world I wanted more than for him to stay with me except for him to stop being in pain. Watching someone you love go through that?” I opened my eyes again, blinking a few times to clear my vision. “That’s a kind of hell I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.”

  Jesse took my hand and squeezed it, that small gesture full of more compassion and understanding than I ever imagined I’d get if I admitted out loud how I’d felt during my husband’s final weeks. In a soft voice, he said, “You feel guilty for feeling that way, don’t you?”

  I laughed humorlessly, for lack of any other way to release this weird energy. “You think?” It came out with much more sarcasm than I’d intended. Gripping Jesse’s hand harder, I wiped my free hand over my face. “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry? Jesus, Garrett.” His thumb ran along the side of my hand. “If I’d been in your shoes, I think I’d have felt the same way.”

  I turned to him, not sure how to respond.

  He held my gaze. “I wouldn’t want to watch someone suffer either. Wanting that suffering to end isn’t the same as wanting the person gone. And wanting the person to hold on isn’t the same as wanting them to suffer.” He brought our tightly clasped hands up and kissed the backs of my fingers. “I’m not going to tell you I know how you feel or what it was like to go through any of that, but . . . what you’re telling me right now?” He nodded slowly. “I get it. And it’s not nearly as fucked up as you probably think it is.”

  I swallowed, relieved in ways I hadn’t imagined I’d ever feel. I’d hated myself every time I’d woken up and realized Sean was still holding on, and I hadn’t thought anyone would ever understand that feeling. What kind of asshole wished his husband would give up and die?

  But Jesse got it. And that was a relief. Not just that someone got it, but that he did.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  I nodded. “I think so. Or at least, I think I will be.”

  Twin creases appeared between his eyebrows. He released my hand and touched my face. “Whatever you’re feeling or needing right now? It’s okay. If you need to be alone, or if you want to go out somewhere, or if you want to talk, or not talk . . .” He t
raced his thumb along my cheekbone. “If there’s anything I can do, all you have to do is ask.”

  I put my hand over his, the warmth of his skin electric against my palm.

  Eyes locked on mine, he whispered, “Tell me what you need.”

  The hand on my cheek was almost certainly meant to be reassuring and nothing more, but it sent something intense crackling along my nerve endings. Today had broken open the mostly numb shell of grief, reminding me how horrible my husband’s final months had been and how lonely I’d been since he’d passed. The time I’d spent with Jesse, rekindling my ability to touch and connect with someone, put a wedge between the present and that painful past, though, separating me from those dark days and tempering the hurt that lingered. It was difficult to imagine how I’d feel right now if Jesse weren’t with me. If he hadn’t been with me for the last several weeks, and if he weren’t sitting here beside me while my emotions flailed. If he hadn’t been there today to listen to me and stand next to me.

  I didn’t think I’d ever been as grateful for anything as I was, in that moment, for the man sitting beside me.

  Without a word, I curved a hand behind his neck and kissed him. Hard. Needy. No pretense whatsoever—this was going to end with us naked and spent.

  Jesse didn’t miss a beat. He grabbed on and returned my kiss with equal fervor. In a matter of seconds, we were panting, groping, rutting against each other. It seemed crude and crass, like this was the last thing we should’ve been doing after visiting the cemetery on the anniversary of my husband’s death. But at the same time, it was perfect. It was exactly what I needed. The visit had awakened emotions I hadn’t wanted to acknowledge, and it had pulled at parts of me that were still—and maybe always would be—numb, and I was suddenly desperate to feel things that didn’t hurt. To feel alive.

  And was there anywhere these days where I felt more alive than tangled up with Jesse?

  Especially now. Holy shit.

  All those emotions that had been bubbling up broke loose, tightening my chest and stinging my eyes, and I held on to him tighter. I was hungry for him, his touch, his moans. It didn’t have to make sense. Nothing needed to make sense right now.

  But he’d also been there with me today. Was this weird for him?

  I broke the kiss and looked into his eyes. “You sure you’re okay with this?”

  He licked his lips. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

  “I’m completely okay with it.” I slid a hand up into his hair. “I want you so bad right now.” I need you. God, Jesse, I need you.

  Because you’re you, damn it. Not a reminder of someone else. You.

  Jesse grabbed me and kissed me again, and there was no stopping. He rolled me onto my back and straddled me, kissing me hard, and he groaned as I tugged at his shirt. The more clothes came off, the wilder he got. The wilder we both got, but especially him. Jesse was always aggressive, but right now, he had that aggression cranked up to a twelve, and I loved it. I reveled in it and drowned in it and couldn’t get enough of it.

  We grappled like one of us was trying to gain control, but we weren’t. We were just needy and demanding, digging in fingers and raking nails across skin and throwing each other down, biting hard enough to bruise when we weren’t violently making out. This wasn’t how we usually fucked, but I didn’t care. It was like the only way these emotions would calm down was to find an outlet, and the only outlet was hungry, feverish sex.

  “Fuck me,” I panted between kisses. Foreplay could wait until I wasn’t this desperate.

  He responded with a low, throaty moan and shuddered against me, rubbing my hip with his rock-hard erection. “We’ve got . . . lube . . . everything . . .”

  “Yeah.” I waved a hand in the general direction of my bag. “It’s all—”

  He lunged for the bag, grabbed it off the floor, and dragged it up onto the bed with shaky hands.

  I pulled back the zipper. He went for the condoms while I went for the lube, and after he’d torn the wrapper, he growled, “Hands and knees.”

  Nothing—no amount of weed or booze or any goddamned thing—had ever spun my head as fast as it was spinning right then. Despite my light head and my shaking limbs, I did as I was told, and I bit my lip as I silently begged him to hurry the hell up.

  He didn’t waste time. Once the condom was on, he knelt behind me, and as soon as he’d slicked some lube on me and a lot more on himself, he lined his dick up with my hole. I shivered. Yes. God, yes. It was like he knew exactly what I needed. No prep. No gentleness. I wanted it rough, hard, painful, forceful—I didn’t care if he made me cry as long as he made me come.

  He didn’t thrust in. He pressed his cock against me, and he stayed there, letting me lean back and take him. As he breached me, we both groaned. He wrapped his arm around my waist, quite possibly to steady himself, and exhaled hard against my back.

  “This okay?” he panted. “Not . . . not too—”

  “More.” I squeezed my eyes shut as I rocked back to take him deeper. “God, Jesse . . .”

  He grabbed my hips and withdrew a little. Before I could protest, though, he slammed back in, and the whole world went white for a second.

  “Oh yeah,” I moaned. “More of that. Fuck yeah.”

  He gave me more of that. So much more. He rode me hard, fingers bruising my hips as he forced his cock in again and again.

  I dropped to my forearms, which shifted his angle inside me, and everything blurred as he hit that sweet spot just right. The sounds I was making weren’t words anymore, but he must’ve understood them as encouragement because he didn’t let up.

  Distantly, I was aware that my head had been a confusing mess of thoughts and emotions, but all that was gone. Nothing existed except here and now and this, and nothing mattered except the steady cadence of more, more, more, punctuated by Jesse’s brutal thrusts.

  His rhythm faltered and he cried out as he drove himself in and stayed there. “Oh . . . fuck . . .”

  I thought he might’ve come, but then he nudged me all the way down to the mattress and started riding me again.

  “You feel so good,” he panted, fucking me hard enough to rub my cock against the sheets. “God, Garrett . . .”

  I murmured something that kind of sounded like, “So do you,” but English wasn’t high on my priority list. My priority list was blank except for lying there and taking Jesse’s thick cock while his hot, sweaty skin pressed against mine. It was too much, and it was painful, and it was the most perfect thing I’d ever experienced in my life. I was on the brink of sobbing and I didn’t even know why. Overwhelmed and . . . Fuck, he was just so good. So, so good.

  Jesse moaned into my hair and thrust harder, his rhythm falling apart the way it always did when he was close. “Come, baby,” he whispered. The combination of demanding and desperate in his tone was too much, and the shudder that went through me could’ve registered on a Richter scale.

  “Oh God,” I breathed as he thrust deep, my entire body shaking as he drove me over the edge. “Fuck, yeah!” Jesse groaned hard, and he pounded me for all he was worth as I came, and then he was coming too, dick pulsing inside my tender ass as his raw, raspy cries echoed off the walls.

  One last hard tremor rocked me from head to toe, and I was still. I was already facedown on the mattress, but I felt like I’d collapsed anyway. Then he collapsed over me, shaking and panting. I loved it. The heat of his skin. The weight of him. The ragged gusts of cool breath across sweat. Somehow it all added up to everything in the world being right and perfect, even if it was just for a few minutes.

  He kissed the back of my neck, and goose bumps prickled all over me. With a soft grunt, he pulled out, then flopped onto the bed beside me. “Holy fuck.”

  “Yeah.” I turned on my side. “I was thinking the same thing.”

  Our eyes met. He was the very picture of blissed-out perfection. Tousled hair. Sweat dripping down his face. Skin flushed. Chest rising and falling with harsh breaths.


  How are you mine?

  I touched his cheek with a trembling hand, and he kissed my palm. Then we just gazed at each other and smiled.

  After a long, sweet moment, we finally rose, cleaned ourselves up, and sank back onto the bed. He rested his head on my shoulder, and neither of us said anything for a while. The silence was hardly awkward or uncomfortable—just the two of us lying together and letting the dust settle. My body felt spectacular. Even my head seemed clearer, and I didn’t care if it was temporary. It felt good right now.

  “Doing all right?” he finally asked.

  “Yeah.” I pressed a kiss to his forehead, which was still warm and damp with sweat. “I feel pretty good, actually.”

  “Good.” He tilted his head up to kiss under my jaw, then nestled back under my chin.

  I stroked Jesse’s hair and gazed up at the ceiling. Our hungry, needy fuck had scattered some of those overwhelming emotions and calmed others, but a few more were heading to the surface. Feelings I hadn’t expected to ever have again. Some I’d only had for one person before now.

  I tried not to compare him to my late husband, but the way I felt right now with Jesse was uncannily similar to the way I’d felt in the early days with Sean. There’d been a profound realization, a foundation-rattling epiphany when I’d looked at him and simply known. There’d never been any questioning or angst about it. I’d known the moment I’d started falling for Sean, and I’d surrendered to that fall like an eager skydiver. It wasn’t something I’d experienced before him or after him . . . until right now.

  I didn’t say anything. This wasn’t the time to think like this, never mind say it out loud, and I still had way too many emotions to sift through before I was sure-footed enough to make any big declarations, but I couldn’t deny it—I was falling for Jesse. Falling hard for him.

  And I didn’t want to stop.