Isaiah growled low, meeting him aggression for aggression. His tongue flicked into Mark’s mouth for the first time. And fuck, it was Mark’s turn to tremble, a shiver that started at the base of his spine and worked its way up to his shoulders and neck.
“Hell. We’re gonna end up on the floor if we’re not careful.” Isaiah laughed, and then he was moving again, tugging Mark with him so that they were lying on the couch, Mark on top of Isaiah, who was grinning up at him like he’d been given the best present of all time. “There. That’s better.”
Mark had to agree. Isaiah under him, laughing, mouth inviting more kisses, hands stroking Mark’s back was more than he’d ever dreamed possible. And apparently his body wasn’t done kissing and exploring because his mouth found Isaiah’s again.
“Oh yeah.” Isaiah welcomed him back with a groan. He wasn’t quite so pliable now, taking more of the lead, but Mark was good with that because Isaiah was full of good ideas like getting a hand under Mark’s shirt while he sucked at Mark’s tongue. His big hand was warm on Mark’s back, the skin-to-skin contact exactly what Mark hadn’t realized he needed.
“Shirt off.” Isaiah pulled back long enough to make the demand, pulling at the hem of Mark’s shirt. Taking his shirt off meant more of Isaiah’s touches so Mark was all for that. He sat up just long enough to send his shirt fluttering to the floor. And hey, look at that, Isaiah had taken his off too. But he didn’t have much time to marvel at Isaiah’s bare chest before Isaiah was claiming his mouth again.
And when he settled back on top of Isaiah, their chests meeting, he was the one moaning. Isaiah was smooth, nearly bare pecs, but he had a trail of hair on his stomach that rubbed against Mark’s skin in the most delicious way. Lying this way negated their height difference, and when Mark moved, Isaiah’s hard nipples dragged against Mark’s chest. Isaiah was far more muscled and solid than Mark had expected, and not having to worry about crushing him was nice. In fact, Isaiah seemed to want more, holding Mark closer.
And through it all he was kissing Mark, little sips and nips among deep forays. Kissing had most certainly never been like this. This he could keep doing for hours. He loved the feel of Isaiah under him, loved Isaiah’s strong arms clutching him, loved the sounds Isaiah made. The moans and gasps and growls were awesome because they chased away any worries that maybe he wasn’t doing this right.
Rolling his hips, Isaiah moved so that his legs fell open. And okay, wow. Isaiah rocking against him was a whole new level of nice. Like dancing but lying down with a side bonus of more of that delicious kissing.
“Mmm.” Isaiah made a desperate noise, like he needed something only Mark could give, so Mark kissed him harder, following instincts he hadn’t been aware he had.
“Fuck. I’m close.” Isaiah’s head fell back, face looking tortured. “Can you get off this way or you need something more?”
Oh. Oh. Getting off. He’d been so wrapped up in the kissing that he hadn’t stopped to think about that. But of course, Isaiah would want that. And he was generous and giving and would want Mark to come too and would not want to hear about Mark’s weird hang-ups... Fuck. Mark struggled to sit up.
“Hey. Hey. It’s okay.” Isaiah sat up too, stroking Mark’s arms like he was a skittish dog, which honestly wasn’t that far from the truth. Mark had been here before and it never ended well. “We can totally keep making out. I’m good with that. Didn’t mean to pressure you or rush ahead.”
“You didn’t.” This was totally on Mark, letting things get out of hand. “Shouldn’t have kissed you.”
“Hey. I pretty much goaded you into it. And honestly, I think after the week we’ve had, we both needed it.” Isaiah kept up the gentle massage of Mark’s biceps. “This doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to. Just some stress relief.”
“I don’t do stress relief.” God, he envied people like Isaiah who could be so damn casual about sex. Six years and nothing had changed—Isaiah wanted a quick fuck, something to get out of his system, while Mark wanted...hell. He didn’t even know anymore. “Sex isn’t—I don’t know...it doesn’t work like that for me.”
“Do you not like it?” Isaiah’s head cocked to the side like he was considering Mark under a microscope. Not wanting that, Mark squirmed away from his touch. “I really didn’t mean to make you do something you’re not into. If you didn’t like the kissing—”
“I liked that.” Fuck. Why was this so hard to talk about? “A lot. It felt...amazing. Better than it has before.” His skin heated with that admission.
“With women you mean? Was that the first time with a guy?” Isaiah was still studying him carefully.
“No. I kissed a guy once. There was this friend at medic training. He wanted...” Mark drifted off. Maybe it would have been better if he’d never kissed Howie at all. Or Julie before him. Or that Rachel chick his friends tried to set him up with a few years back. Disasters. All of it. Isaiah was so much better than those other encounters and maybe he wouldn’t have all this tension if kissing had been like this all along. “I’ve kissed both. Never like that though. Never felt...so right.”
“How about we make it feel right some more?” Isaiah wrapped an arm around him. “We can just kiss until you feel like stopping. Nothing else. You’re in control.”
Ha. Mark had never felt less in control in his life. “That wouldn’t be fair to you.”
“Says who?” Isaiah’s eyebrows went up. “I fucking loved making out with you. Could have done that for hours more. You’re an amazing kisser. I’m sorry I fucked up and pressured you for more.”
God. Why did Isaiah have to be so nice?
“You’ll want...” Mark made a vague gesture with his hand.
“I’m not going to deny being turned-on as fuck. But I’m also not some horny kid anymore. Let me worry about me.”
Oh, if only it were that easy. Mark groaned. “People always want more. But my body...it doesn’t usually cooperate.”
Shame burned through him. He’d never confessed that aloud before.
“You mean you’re not turned on?” Isaiah still had that quizzical look on his face, the face that made Mark feel like a failed science experiment. “Or you mean, you have a hard time getting off?”
“Both.” This was possibly the most awkward conversation in the history of the world. But something about Isaiah had a way of making long-held secrets slip out. “I don’t know. I just—I’m not like other people about sex. It just doesn’t...work for me.”
“Like maybe you’re asexual?”
Mark nodded. It was only the second time another person had said the words, the first being a kind doctor Mark had seen. And he wasn’t surprised that Isaiah, what with his various degrees and advocacy work, knew the term. “Yeah. I—sex has never been easy for me. I even had a doctor test me for low testosterone, but he said that my hormones were fine and maybe I was just not a sexual guy. I did some reading about it after he said that it sounded like I could be asexual, and asexuality seemed to fit except for the part where I get strange crushes every few years and weird stuff turns me on.”
“Like how weird we talking about?” Isaiah sounded curious, but not judgmental.
“Like naked pictures don’t usually do it for me. I’m the only guy in the world for whom porn doesn’t work.”
“Hardly. I’ve known others. What does do it for you, though?”
“Words. Like someone’s voice. Or a glancing contact.” Mark thought about that morning, Isaiah’s long fingers on his waist. Or how Isaiah’s laugh just always worked for him on some deeper level. “Like I’ll know someone a long time, and then they’ll say something nice or do something for me, and all of a sudden I’ll realize I’m turned on. But I have to... I don’t know...feel a connection or something. It’s rare and never happens with strangers.”
“Words and voices can be fucking sexy.” Isaiah’s voice was rea
ssuring. “All genders?”
“Gender doesn’t seem to really matter. It’s more how much I like someone, if that makes sense. More often it’s with guys, but I’ve felt it a few times with women too. My body’s just wired strange—”
“Quit saying that about yourself.” Isaiah punched him lightly on the arm. “It sounds like you’re ace, but maybe you’re more gray ace or demisexual, where you only get turned on after an emotional bond with people.”
Mark’s eyes fluttered back open. He’d seen those terms in his reading up on asexuality, but he still wasn’t sure exactly where he fit. And he really didn’t need Isaiah, amateur therapist, helping him sort out his place on the sexuality spectrum. Frustrated, he released a growl. “Does the label really matter? You and everyone else are always in such an all-fire hurry to give me a label. Gay. Straight. Bi. Pan. Ace. But nothing ever really seems to describe me. I’ve never looked at a random person of any gender and thought, ‘Oh I’d like to do naked things with them.’ But that seems to be how the rest of the world defines attraction.”
“You’re right. We’re all too hung up on labels. I’m sorry for teasing you about your crush on Cal, implying that you needed a label. I didn’t mean to pressure you in any way. And now I’m feeling extra shitty for coming on to you at the wedding. And tonight. I should have figured you out—”
“I’m not a puzzle.” Mark tried to pull away, but Isaiah held fast. “And...” God, could he really confess this? “I wanted you to. Hit on me, I mean. You’re—you’ve always been...different.”
“Oh.” Isaiah’s eyes went wide. “I’m one of the people you feel that connection with?”
“Yeah,” Mark whispered. “I didn’t feel that way toward you at first. Only once we hung out that week before the wedding. Then your laugh turned me on, and I really didn’t know what to make of that.”
“I’m honored.”
“Don’t be flip.”
“I’m not. It’s really...cool. Special. I’m glad you feel that comfortable with me.” Isaiah pressed a quick kiss to Mark’s temple. “And I’m not going to take advantage of you, promise. No more teasing or goading.”
“What if I want you to?” Mark leaned into Isaiah’s touch. He felt...well, better wasn’t really the right word. But he felt settled in a way that he hadn’t before. Admitting his truth to Isaiah and having Isaiah both believe him and act like it was completely normal was a reassurance he hadn’t known he’d needed.
“You want pressure?” Isaiah laughed. “Nope. Not gonna do anything you might regret.”
“No. Not pressure.” Mark made a frustrated noise. “I just mean... I liked the kissing. And the touching.”
“Oh.” Isaiah’s eyes took on a predatory gleam. “You want more kissing?”
Before Mark could sort out an answer, a loud wail sounded on the baby monitor.
“I’ll go.” Not waiting for a reply, Mark headed for the stairs, thoughts still reeling. Did he want more kissing with Isaiah? It was a bad idea for so many reasons, and yet he couldn’t deny how good it had felt, how much he really wanted to try again.
He reached Liam’s room where the baby was sitting in the crib, crying and rubbing his eyes.
“Here you go, big guy.” Mark lifted him out. This. This was what was really important. He couldn’t get tangled up with Isaiah and lose sight of why he was here, what his priorities had to be.
Chapter Eleven
“Okay. I guess your new ride is good for something.” Isaiah had been pissed when Mark had gone SUV shopping on Sunday, leaving with his Camaro and returning with a black SUV that looked totally worthy of hauling around celebrities, let alone three active kids. But now that they’d filled the back end with purchases from the garden store, Isaiah had to admit it could haul far more than his little car.
“Told you.” Mark effortlessly hefted a bag of soil. “Where do you need this?”
“I’m making a pile right there.” Isaiah pointed to the side of the garage. They’d taken the girls to school, then hit the garden store, ready to put Isaiah’s plans for the yard into action. He’d spent the past few days drawing plans and doing research for the garden plans, but the shopping trip had been Mark’s idea. Probably some sort of make up for ghosting Isaiah all Sunday, not wanting to talk about the late-night kissing session on Saturday night.
It was probably just as well that Liam had interrupted them. And a short time later, Daphne had woken up from a bad dream asking for her parents, breaking Isaiah’s heart all over again and making him glad they had ended the conversation when they had. Plus, it had been some heavy talk and Isaiah wasn’t lying—he really didn’t want to take advantage of Mark. That Mark felt close enough with him to want to kiss was a big deal, and Isaiah wanted to tread carefully. Mark as demisexual or gray ace made a lot of sense, but of course it wasn’t about what Isaiah thought—what mattered was that he be respectful of Mark’s sexuality and his limits, whatever they were, no matter how much he might want a repeat of the hottest make-out session of his life.
So he’d hung back, not pressing for more or pushing Mark to talk. And the kids kept them both plenty busy the last few days. The rest of the week looked to be similarly hectic.
“My roomies have found a guy to take over my part of the lease,” he reported as he grabbed a flat of succulents. “Any chance I could use the tank here to get the last of my crap from the apartment?”
“Sure. Tomorrow I’ve got a meeting in the morning, then I can get the girls from school. We can do a car seat swap. I’ll just take the BMW.”
“Just.” Isaiah rolled his eyes at him. Mark’s dad’s car might be older, but it was a sweet ride. “I might need to store some stuff in the garage, if that’s okay?”
It was weird, packing up his old life, moving into this weird limbo land where he was living in Mark’s house, yet not exactly a guest or a roommate. However, he didn’t want to have to pay for storage if he didn’t have to. Every penny of his savings would need to go for getting a place for him and the girls once Mark sold. And hopefully the lawyer wouldn’t drain too much of that savings either—the family lawyer Dylan had recommended was filing his petition for guardianship this week, and each billable hour had Isaiah sweating.
“That’s fine. The garage has an attic too. There’s plenty of room.” Mark stopped swinging bags of soil around to make a face for Liam. They’d put his car seat under the awning of the garage, so he could watch them unload without getting overheated. Watching Mark become more comfortable with the kids was one of the coolest things, every bit as good as planting a row of seeds, waiting for the sprouts to show up, then finally turn into full-fledged flowers.
Saturday, by the time Isaiah had made it upstairs, Mark had already got Liam quiet, and he’d been the one to give Liam his bottle after Isaiah changed him. Seeing the big, tough SEAL in the rocking chair with the sleepy baby had made Isaiah’s heart do this weird stutter-step. And he’d backed out of the room. He did not need to get any more feelings for Mark. Things were complicated enough.
Since Mark was distracted with making the baby laugh, Isaiah grabbed the last two bags.
“Ow.” The same neck muscle that had been sore since Saturday pinched, pain radiating down his arm.
“Here.” Mark took the bags from him, easily adding them to the pile. “Let me see?”
“It’s nothing. Too much lifting and carrying lately.” Isaiah waved him off, but Mark had his medic face on, all serious as he prodded at Isaiah’s neck and shoulder.
“You should see a doctor,” Mark chided him.
“Seeing one right now.” Isaiah laughed. Damn, Mark’s fingers felt good. “And it’s nothing a good massage wouldn’t fix.”
He really hadn’t meant that last bit as a hint, but Mark’s fingers switched from poking to rubbing. “Like this?”
“Yeah.” Isaiah had to stifle a moan. “But I wasn’t ang
ling for one from you. I can probably barter with a friend—”
Mark made a scoffing noise. “I’m here now. Let me help.”
“Okay.” Isaiah really wasn’t going to tell him not to touch him, not when his fingers digging into Isaiah’s sore muscles felt so damn good.
“I’ve never done this before. Tell me if I go too hard.” Mark’s thumbs dug into a particularly tight knot and Isaiah groaned.
“No such thing.”
“Still, I don’t want to hurt you.” Mark was standing close enough that his breath ruffled Isaiah’s hair.
“Do what would feel good to you. And trust me, I’m loving this.” Isaiah stretched to chase more of the touch. His tone was maybe a little too flirty. He couldn’t help it though. He’d waited so long for Mark to touch him like this.
“This?” Mark tried a deep, rolling massage motion and Isaiah whimpered with pleasure.
“Yeah. That for like a hundred years.”
“You work too hard,” Mark chided. “Dragging the kids around all day. Let me do more of the lifting.”
“Okay.” Isaiah would have promised him anything to get more of Mark’s strong hands.
“And there’s a steam shower in the master with multiple heads. Try either that or a hot soak in the deep tub. I’ll watch the kids so you can do it later.”
“Can’t. Haven’t been able to go in their room,” Isaiah admitted.
“I know.” Mark stopped rubbing to hold Isaiah close, and it took Isaiah a second to realize that this was a hug. As in Mark was hugging him. And probably didn’t even realize what he was doing. Didn’t know that Isaiah’s heart just trembled. “But we have to move on. And they’d want you to feel better. Tell you what, I’ll air it out later when you go get the girls from school. And when you’re ready, I’ll go in with you.”
“It’s just a bath in their bathroom.” Isaiah’s chest burned. “Shouldn’t make me this worked up.”
Squared Away Page 10
