Let It Beatle Box Set - 7 Gay Romance Stories

by J. D. Walker

  Austin chuckled and went inside.

  As soon as I could move without embarrassing myself, I also headed inside to do the inventory. I saw Trent at the register and Shirley working the discount tables as I walked around the store. They both gave me small smiles whenever they caught my eye, and I acknowledged them.

  I was still in a bit of shock that Thorn and I had finally gotten together, but I wasn’t complaining. I hoped we would be able to build something as a couple, but time would tell.

  I was content to wait and see.

  THE END

  All My Loving

  I have enjoyed creating this series and appreciate your love for these men! Here’s a small window into the lives of the characters after their stories ended. My gift to you.

  Chapter 1: Tory and Maury

  Featuring characters from the story, “Love, Love Me Dude.”

  Maury’s sister Sheila was getting married, which was driving him nuts, and, therefore, me, too. The wedding would take place on Saturday, a day and a half from now, and I couldn’t wait for it to be over already.

  Leonard, Sheila’s fiancé, had the patience of a saint, in my opinion. He had to, in order to live with the woman and the mild hysterics that had happened from time to time when something ruined her perfect plans. It had been a nightmare of epic proportions, these past six months, and I hoped to never have to deal with such like again in this lifetime.

  I got why she wanted it to be perfect. The father of her children was a moron of the highest order, and she wanted a do-over, of sorts. Still…Maury and I had watched over his sister’s triplets any number of times as Sheila and Leonard traveled up and down the coast in search of the perfect dress that didn’t cost the earth, a venue that wouldn’t bankrupt them, and on, and on.

  Now, we were at the end of the wedding rehearsal, catered by René, our local pastry chef extraordinaire. Sheila had made the wedding party run through the program three times, and there would have been a fourth if Maury hadn’t put his foot down. Thorn and Brian, who would be providing the music at the wedding, had already left, since Thorn had to work. The triplets were asleep, two in Maury’s lap and one in mine. I couldn’t wait to go home.

  “Tell me we won’t do this on our wedding day,” Maury whispered to me as we watched Leonard and the priest calm Sheila from yet another meltdown.

  I turned to him in surprise. “You want to get married?” It hadn’t even occurred to me such a thing would come up, even after gay marriage became legal. Why did we need to be married, anyway? We were happy together, firm in our love and neither of us was going anywhere, ever. Putting a ring on his finger seemed…superfluous.

  “You don’t want to get married?” he asked, the surprise and sadness—hurt, even—I saw on his face taking me aback.

  “I…I didn’t realize it would be important to you, tying the knot. We’ve never talked about it. Aren’t we fine as we are? Why do we need a ring? I love you and you love me. Is all this hoopla—” I gestured to the madness around us and scowled “—is it really necessary?”

  “Well, I don’t want any madness like this, that’s for certain,” he replied, which I took to mean that yes, the hoopla was a given. Crap. I sighed, knowing I’d do anything to make Maury happy, but getting married? I wasn’t sure I could promise that.

  My parents hadn’t been the demonstrative sort, and though they’d cared for me, I knew they’d felt relief when I left home. They’d gotten married because my mom had been pregnant with me, after all. I’d been a constant reminder of their “mistake.” I hadn’t heard from them since I walked out the door at eighteen, but I hadn’t made the effort for them to find me, either. If I were to use them as a shining example of marriage, it wasn’t encouraging.

  Another hour went by before Leonard and Sheila finally came over to take the triplets and thank us for watching them. Maury kissed his sister on the cheek and assured her the wedding would be perfect. His smile was bright, but I could see the strain behind it.

  Leonard shook my hand with his free one and I could tell he couldn’t wait to be done with the whole fiasco. Why would Maury want any of this? Did he need proof of our love on a marriage license? It disturbed me he might feel that way. And where did that leave me?

  * * * *

  The wedding went off without a hitch on Saturday morning, thank the universe. It was a chilly, cold day in December but the sun was shining. The whole town seemed to be present, and everyone was smiling.

  Sheila looked beautiful, Leonard handsome, the triplets cute and full of mischief, throwing petals on the guests instead of the carpet, and blowing spit balls at each other.

  Maury gave a speech at the reception that almost had me in tears. He spoke about how close he and his sister were and all they had gone through, then expressed gratitude to Leonard for taking her off his hands, thank Christ. We all had a good laugh at that, but my heart hurt.

  Though Maury and I had continued with our lives as usual after the rehearsal, I could tell he was preoccupied. He hadn’t once brought up getting married again, and I was terrified of discussing it, too. I could feel his eyes on me, sometimes, and wondered what he was thinking. Was it a deal breaker, my lack of interest in getting hitched?

  Every night before we’d fallen asleep, Maury had given me a chaste kiss on the mouth, and nothing more. I didn’t think he was punishing me for what I’d said. He was simply trying to figure things out and probably didn’t want to cloud the issue. I didn’t want to lose him over a stupid piece of paper.

  Once the happy couple had left, and the triplets had been handed off to friends who would watch them until their parents returned from their honeymoon in a week, Maury and I drove back to the motel mid-afternoon. There were no guests booked for the weekend, surprisingly, so we had the place to ourselves.

  Not being hungry, I suggested a walk on the beach after we’d changed into sweats. Maury nodded and we donned our hoodies before heading out to stroll on the sand. We usually held hands, but this time, we didn’t. Though we walked side by side, I could feel the distance of an ocean between us.

  It wasn’t that windy, and we were the only ones out there. I’d gone jogging first thing that morning, as usual, but my footprints had been washed away hours ago.

  “That was a great speech, love,” I said as we strolled along slowly. “Sheila and the kids would have been lost without you all those years.”

  He shrugged the way he always did when complimented. “I’m just glad I could be there for her. She’s strong on her own, but I know she loved having me in her corner, and vice versa. Now, it’s Leonard’s turn.” He winked and I laughed in relief. At least he didn’t seem to be mad at me.

  “Yeah.” I led the way to one of our favorite rocks and sat, Maury doing the same. I took a deep breath, the nip in the air giving me courage. “Something on your mind?” I asked, watching his profile lovingly as the gentle breeze blew over-long strands of hair into his face. I wanted to tuck them behind his ear and nibble on his chin.

  “You’ve been pensive since before the wedding,” I continued, “and I know it’s because of what I said about marriage.”

  Maury sighed. “It is, and I’m sorry that I’ve pulled away from you, a little. It’s just, I never thought we could get married and was happy with the status quo, and then gay marriage was legal, and my sister was planning her wedding…I got caught up in it and assumed you wanted the same thing, too.”

  “I didn’t realize it was something that would be important to you. To tell you the truth, my parents didn’t have a great marriage, and I never thought it would be something I would consider.”

  Hesitantly, I reached out to take his cold hand in mine, and was relieved he didn’t pull away. “If it’s what you want, give me some time to think about it, okay? I want you to be happy, no matter what.”

  Maury grabbed my other hand and looked at me earnestly. “I want you to be happy, too. I won’t lie that I really want to get married, but if you can’t get there, we ca
n remain as we are, too. I love you, and that won’t ever change.”

  What I felt in that moment could only be expressed in a kiss.

  Chapter 2: Murphy and Austin

  Featuring characters from the story, “Happiness Is a Warm Bum.”

  I lay in bed next to my lover and watched him sleep. It was early on a Sunday morning, not even six o’clock, and I didn’t have to work, which meant it was the perfect day to snuggle up to Austin, and get up much, much later. The laugh lines and crow’s feet were not quite as pronounced when he was totally relaxed, and I loved every one of them. His left leg was thrown over mine, and his hand rested on my bicep, his obsession with my muscles still evident even in repose.

  I loved the man, and I didn’t think he would ever understand how much.

  When I had come roaring into town one winter’s day, angry, depressed, weary, and practically homeless, he’d given me a place to stay, paid work, and shown me a level of caring and concern I’d rarely found in others up to that point. He’d had no reason to help me out, and he did it anyway. Chipped away at my walls until they all came tumbling down. How could I not love Austin, who’d taken me in from the cold and helped me find myself again?

  I leaned in and kissed his forehead, smiling when he snuggled in a little closer. His hair was almost fully gray now, the brown pretty much gone. When he was awake, those blue, blue eyes rivaled the ocean. He was fit and hot, older guy or not, and I counted my blessings every day that we were together, that he hadn’t given up on me.

  Reaching down between us, I gently grabbed his dick, which was half-hard. Austin loved to claim that he was old and couldn’t keep up with me, but he did just fine. And though we didn’t have sex morning, noon and night, it wasn’t about that, anyway. Holding him in my arms all night, making breakfast together, going on motorbike rides, spending our lives in each other’s company, having each other’s back. That was what made me happy.

  “Murphy,” Austin mumbled as I began to pump his cock. I kissed him gently on the tip of his nose, making him wiggle it, which was always cute.

  “Feel good, love?” I asked, reaching out to fist his hair and take his mouth in a hard kiss, nibbling on his bottom lip before I sucked on his tongue, making him moan. Austin pushed his dick through my fist, over and over, chasing oblivion while I fucked his mouth.

  It didn’t take long before he lost it, giving up enough cream I could use to work on his hole. I reached down between us to find his entrance, Austin moving his leg up a little higher so I could access it. He was still loose from the night before, and it didn’t take long before he was fucking my fingers, silently begging me to take him since I refused to stop kissing him. He tasted so good.

  I fit my cock to his asshole and pushed inside, slow and easy until I was all the way in. As I placed little bites on his chin and throat, I moved in and out of his body, setting up a slow rhythm that I kept going for a few minutes.

  “Murphy,” Austin whispered, a slight whimper leaving him before he twisted one of my nipples and said, “Fuck me like you mean it.”

  I took him at his word and rolled us onto his back so I could wrap his legs around my waist and go to town. Sometimes, Austin was loud in the throes of passion. When he was quiet, all pants and little moans, it seemed more poignant. Those eyes of his trapped me in their spell, and I fucked him hard enough he had to put a hand against the headboard so he wouldn’t slam into it.

  “That’s the way,” he said, sweat running down his face, and mine dripping onto his skin. Neither of us cared, heading for the finish line, and when we came? It was like the first time. And I never wanted it to end.

  “I love you more than life, Austin,” I said, nuzzling against his cheek as we lay next to each other, trying to cool down.

  Austin played with a lock of my shoulder-length blond hair, more silver than blond as each day went by. “I know you do, love. Me, too.”

  I closed the scant inches between us, kissing his bruised lips softly before saying, “It’s the start of a beautiful day.”

  Chapter 3: Wheeler and Gregory

  Featuring characters from the story, “Can’t Buy His Love.”

  Will he forgive me?

  I had entered photographs of Gregory’s paintings in a prestigious art competition a couple of months ago. Naturally, my lover didn’t know about it because he would totally freak out. And get mad at me. And there’d be no sex for a week, which was a very effective punishment, I assure you.

  Ever since that heinous assault that had caused him to leave university where he’d been an Art major, Gregory had shut himself off from everyone and doing the things he loved, like painting, until his parents helped him find a way to cope. They had assisted him in opening a daycare business, and working with children gave him some measure of peace. The only painting he’d done since school was the mural at the center, and helping tots with their art projects.

  He used to be known as the “ice queen” by everyone in town, until I came along and, with quite a bit of effort, finally got him to open up to adults, not just children, and let himself be vulnerable and love again. He’d come a long way, and I wanted him to keep moving forward.

  I had seen some of the pictures of his old artwork, pieces he’d worked on in school and before. They were exquisite. I encouraged Gregory to pick up his brush again and paint on canvas because art was how he bared his soul and he was so, so good at it. Also, it would help him heal that part of him he’d ignored for so long. After a long while, he began working on a few pieces which were absolutely magnificent. He’d recently finished a series on the town and the ocean, and I couldn’t stop looking at them.

  I wanted the world to know about Gregory’s talent, and it was a shame his work was languishing in the house somewhere. Which was why I had decided to be slick and underhand. I hoped he wouldn’t hate me when he found out. The decision would be made soon, and I would have to figure out how to tell Gregory and convince him it was a good thing, whether he won or not.

  I’d even gone so far as to contact his old professors—I’d done some research on the sly, including talking with Gregory’s parents, who were almost in tears when I told them my plan—to let them know what was going on. His former teachers were ecstatic I was doing this, and they raved over the images I sent them.

  And now here I was at the gym, looking at the message I’d opened in my email box while working at the front desk. Gregory had won first place, and he’d been invited to attend an event where he would receive his prize, which was a check for five thousand dollars and a gallery exhibit.

  I looked across the street and saw Gregory talking to a group of parents as they collected their kids from daycare. His hair was a little bit longer than when we’d met, and he wore his glasses, which always made me hot. When I heard him laugh, it melted my heart. He hadn’t done that very often before we’d met, and it was a matter of pride he did so freely now, with everyone.

  He caught my gaze and waved at me briefly before going back inside. I’d have to tell him tonight. The event was a week from Saturday, after all.

  “If you’re done mooning over your boyfriend, Wheeler, how about you spot me with the weights?” one of the patrons, Mr. Hastings, said as he stood before me, a smirk on his gently wrinkled face. I refused to blush.

  “Can you blame me?” I replied as I walked around the desk and followed him. “The man is hotter than fire.”

  “You’re not biased at all, are you?” he said, smirking as he lay on the bench.

  “I absolutely am,” I replied, grinning as we got down to work.

  * * * *

  “You love me, don’t you?” I asked Gregory, who was seated next to me on the couch, a laptop each in our laps.

  When I didn’t get a response right away, I looked at him. Gregory’s eyes were narrowed. “What did you do?”

  I huffed. “Why did I have to do anything? I just like to hear you say it, is all.” God, he knew me so well.

  Gregory still didn’t appe
ar to believe me, but he said it anyway. “I love you. Now, spill it.”

  I mock-pouted. “It was for your own good, I promise.”

  And now Gregory closed his laptop and set it on the floor before turning to me. “I worry whenever you say that.”

  Sighing, I handed him my laptop. “Read the email. Please.”

  He gave me another look before focusing on the screen. I nibbled on a fingernail while watching his facial expression. He didn’t blink or show any emotion when he handed the computer back to me, though I thought his chin wobbled a little. He leaned back against the cushions, crossed his arms, and stared at me unflinchingly.

  “Why’d you do it, Wheeler?” Okay, he wasn’t yelling. That was a start.

  I closed the laptop and set it on the coffee table before us. I gathered my thoughts, trying to keep my leg from bouncing with nerves.

  “I love you. I want you to be happy and will do anything to make that happen. You love to paint, Gregory. It’s a part of your soul and you create such beautiful things. I probably should have asked for your permission, but knowing you, you probably would have said no.”

  He started to argue and I held up my hand. “It’s the truth, and you know it. I wanted to prove to you that you are good—great even, and that the world agreed with me. I want you to be whole, love. And I’m sorry if I overstepped, but as I said before, it was for your own good.” My leg bounced, but I stopped it. “Do you hate me now?” I asked in a small voice.

  Gregory was silent for a long time, and all I could do was sit there and fidget. When he finally spoke, I almost jumped out of my skin.

  “I really, really should be pissed at you. You went behind my back and did something that was…unbelievably cool and wild and crazy, like you always do.” He laughed a little, though tears ran down his face. “You always push me just enough to get my attention. This is so awesome, Wheeler. I can’t believe you did this.”