“Do you still talk?”
“Not anymore. She died eight years ago.”
“I’m sorry. Wait, did you say her last name was Harris?”
“Yes.”
“As in Harris Industries?” Brad asked. Harris Industries was a company that had been formed by oil money years before but had branched off into other areas as well over the past thirty years. The Harris family manor was about an hour away, in the lake area. Twelve years ago it had been turned into a rather upscale bed-and-breakfast. Brad had seen ads for it on TV. The place was beautiful.
“Yes, that family.”
“Not to sound rude, but how did you meet? You wouldn’t have exactly been in the same social circles.”
“We met at boarding school. She was a wonderful person.” Annabelle sat back against the couch. “The reason I’m telling you about this is because the man Maggie married was named Richard Hawkins.”
“Wait, are you telling me that your friend Maggie was—”
“Marguerite Hawkins. She was Patrick’s grandmother.”
“Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“I wasn’t sure. He has Maggie’s eyes—which is what made me think about it in the first place—but that really wasn’t enough evidence for me. After he left, I went through the letters she had sent me until I found the one where she mentioned her only grandson. Maggie was the last Harris, and from the things she said about her son, I think she left everything to Patrick.”
Brad blinked slowly. “Are you trying to tell me that my boyfriend owns Harris Industries?”
“I think he might.”
“I guess that would explain why he didn’t seem worried about being away from work for a month.” Brad sighed and let his head drop back against the couch. “Why didn’t he tell me?”
“I don’t know, darling. You’ll have to ask him.”
“That’s not really a conversation I want to have over the phone.”
“You’ll never know if you don’t ask him.” She ran her fingers over the picture of Maggie. “She was a wonderful woman. She was buried here in the Harris family plot. You went to the funeral with me.”
“I did?”
“Yes. You would have been eighteen at the time,” she replied. Brad sent his mind back as he tried to remember the funeral.
He had vague memories of the event. He remembered that there were a lot of people there. He also remembered feeling uncomfortable with the attraction he felt toward the young man in dark glasses. With a start, Brad realized that the young man had been Patrick. He’d watched his gran give him a hug but had been too scared to approach himself.
“I remember seeing Patrick there.” Brad laughed. “I thought he was cute.”
“You didn’t tell me that.”
“Back then I had trouble telling myself.”
“Maybe you should tell him now?”
“Maybe I will,” Brad responded. He kissed his gran on the cheek and climbed to his feet. “Thanks for lunch, Gran.”
“You’re welcome, darling. Tell your young man I said hello.”
“I will.” Brad gave her shoulder a squeeze and let himself out of her house. Once on the steps, he closed the door behind him and pulled out his cell phone. Barely thinking about it, he hit the speed dial for Patrick’s cell.
“Hawkins.”
“Hey, sugar.”
“Brad! This is a nice surprise. What’s up?”
“Not much. My gran says hello. We had lunch.”
“Next time you talk to her, tell her that I say hi back. So, I hate to do this to you, but I’m at work. Is there a reason you called?”
“I just wanted to tell you that I think you’re cute.”
Patrick laughed. “I think you’re gorgeous. Call me later?”
“Will do. I miss you.”
“I miss you too, Angel. Bye.”
“Bye.” Brad hung up the phone with a smile on his face. It might have been a short conversation, but just hearing Patrick’s voice made him feel better. He climbed into his car with a smile on his face. He was looking forward to his next conversation with his boyfriend.
Chapter 6
PATRICK ran his fingers through his hair, trying to decide if he cared enough to do something with it before he left for work. His annoyance at still being stuck on desk duty helped him decide against fixing his hair. His shoulder was much better now. He really should’ve been allowed to leave the station. Captain Hanson was just punishing him for the altercation he’d had with Burt Holland. Someone had finally told him about the fight they’d had when Patrick had returned from Calgary, so Patrick was stuck at his desk and Burt was checking parking meters.
With a tired sigh, Patrick studied his reflection in the mirror. While he didn’t really care about his hair, the dark circles under his eyes were rather troubling. He hadn’t been able to sleep after being unable to reach Brad on the phone the night before.
It had been two weeks since their reconciliation, and—even though Brad had made comments about it being too stalker-like—they talked just about every night on the phone. When Brad hadn’t called at the normal time, Patrick had been surprised at how worried he had become. It was just a missed phone call. A missed phone call from his boyfriend. A missed phone call from his boyfriend, whom he was really starting to care about—possibly even love—that he might have overreacted to. Overreacted by sending an e-mail. A rather long, possibly insane e-mail full of babble and worry. Patrick was starting to hope that Brad hadn’t received the e-mail.
Giving up on his appearance, Patrick wandered into the kitchen to make sure that Bingo had enough food and water for while he was gone. She walked over and nudged his leg. Patrick reached down and scratched her head before heading to the kitchen to let her out the back door. While the dog did her business, Patrick attempted to remember what exactly he had written in the e-mail. What he could remember did not fill him with joy. It was more like dread.
“Brad’s going to think that I lost my mind,” Patrick muttered. He held the door for Bingo, and she came back into the house. Patrick didn’t like leaving her alone in the yard, so he tried to check on her periodically during the day. He gave her a quick scratch before heading out of the kitchen.
Patrick picked up his packed gym bag, which he had left by the kitchen entrance when he let Bingo out. Being stuck on desk duty left him enough time to hit the gym before he headed home at the end of the day. With a deep sigh, Patrick headed for the door. He had almost reached it when someone rang the bell. Giving the clock a quick glance, Patrick realized that he would most likely be late for work after dealing with whomever was at the door.
Grumbling to himself about people with horrible timing, Patrick continued on his way to the front door, but at a slightly accelerated pace. He opened the door and barely got a chance to see the person on the other side before he was enfolded in strong arms. A hungry mouth descended on his before he had a chance to speak.
Patrick opened his mouth to object, and a tongue forced its way inside. When he got a taste of the man kissing him, he recognized it. It was a taste he would never forget. It was Brad. Patrick moaned into the kiss and wrapped his arms around the other man. When he was forced backward, he went with the motion. Patrick broke away from the kiss as he heard his front door shut. He pulled back slightly and found himself staring into smiling blue eyes. “Brad?”
“Hey, sugar.” Brad ran a hand down Patrick’s cheek with a smile, causing Patrick to shiver.
“What are you doing here?”
“I missed you, so I got on a plane. Sorry I missed your call last night. I had the phone off since my flight left early and I was trying to get some sleep.”
“You didn’t get the e-mail?”
“What e-mail?”
Patrick gave a small laugh. He couldn’t stop staring into Brad’s eyes. “When you look at your e-mail, just delete the one from me from last night.”
“Okay.” Brad ran his fingers down Patrick’s cheek once more. “God
, I missed you.”
Patrick whimpered softly, then pressed himself against Brad once again. When Brad’s mouth met his, Patrick surrendered to the kiss willingly. He opened to the questing tongue, marveling slightly at how their time apart seemed to have made Brad a touch more forceful. It was a change that Patrick liked. He pressed himself closer as Brad nearly ate his mouth. It had been five weeks since the last time he had been in Brad’s arms, and Patrick felt like a starving man who had just been given a ten-course meal.
Patrick couldn’t get enough of Brad’s touch and responded eagerly, almost begging for more. He molded himself to the slightly shorter man while all thoughts of work fled his mind. He couldn’t think of anything except the feel of Brad’s hands on his body. Patrick allowed his arms to drop away from Brad’s shoulders as he felt deft fingers at the buttons of his jacket. Once the jacket hit the floor, he wrapped his arms around Brad once more, burying his hands in Brad’s blond hair. When he felt Brad’s hands on the bare skin of his back, all the desire and need he’d been repressing since he’d left Alberta burst to the surface. He needed to be touched, and he needed it now.
“Brad, need you,” Patrick moaned. He gasped as Brad pushed him to the floor. With the need for Brad riding him, he hardly felt the impact. His erection was throbbing so hard that Patrick didn’t even consider getting Brad to the bedroom. Patrick fumbled at Brad’s belt as they slid on the hardwood floor. Brad pushed his hands away and with a final, bruising kiss, flipped Patrick around so he was on all fours. Patrick’s final position ended with his forearms half on the hardwood floor and half on the area rug that led farther into the house.
“Um, Patrick?”
“Huh?”
“The dog is staring at us.”
Patrick looked up and saw Bingo standing in the hall looking at them. “Bingo, kitchen!” She stood for a moment more before giving her tail a flick and turning around. Once the dog was out of sight, Patrick felt Brad’s hands on him once again.
Patrick moaned as his pants and boxer-briefs were pulled down to his knees in one swift motion. His hips were tilted to a better angle, and Patrick had to brace his arms against the floor to keep his balance. Brad’s strong hands ran over the smooth skin of his ass, and Patrick shivered under the contact. When he felt a coated finger pressing against his opening, he emitted a needy whimper. He had no idea where Brad had pulled the lube from, but that didn’t stop him from attempting to push back onto the gentle digit.
“Calm down, Patrick, I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Need you.” Patrick knew that Brad was right, but he needed the other man so badly that he just didn’t care.
“And I need you, but I won’t hurt you. Just relax.” Brad pressed a kiss to his lower back and continued his slow ministrations.
Patrick writhed in pleasure and made low moaning sounds in the back of his throat. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been so turned on. One finger became two, and Patrick hissed at the burn. He hadn’t been with anybody since the last time Brad had been inside him. Maybe all of the extra time that Brad was taking was a good idea. Patrick howled as Brad’s stretching fingers found his prostate. He was rapidly approaching the point where he could come without a touch. Brad seemed to be able to bring that out in him without a lot of extra effort. Brad was pushing every one of his buttons, and Patrick was still wearing most of his clothes. He could feel his shirt riding up his back and his pants trapping his legs. Patrick whimpered as the fingers slipped out of his ass, but when he felt hands skim over his sides, Patrick shuddered. He distantly heard the sound of Brad opening a condom. Patrick moaned as Brad’s weight covered his back. As Brad’s chin hooked over his shoulder, Patrick tilted his head to give the other man more room. A nip to his ear caused Patrick to shiver.
“Ready?”
“Yes,” Patrick panted. He hissed in pleasure as he felt Brad start to slowly slide into him. Bracing his elbows and forearms on the floor, Patrick thrust his body back, forcing Brad to enter him faster than the other man had planned. The sudden burn and slight flare of pain caused Patrick to suck in a harsh breath.
“Damn it, Patrick. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Patrick began to tremble as his body adjusted to the intrusion. “I’d be better if you’d start moving.”
Hands latched onto Patrick’s hips with enough force to leave bruises, and Brad started to thrust. The slow movements tore a cry out of Patrick’s mouth as he began to fall apart underneath his lover. He couldn’t remember the last time something had felt so good. It was like the pleasure started at the point where Brad entered him and danced up his spine. Every point of contact between his body and Brad’s just increased his pleasure. He could feel Brad’s thumbs tracing circles on his hips as his lover reamed his ass. When Brad managed to nail his prostate several times in a row, Patrick lost it. He screamed as he sprayed his release over the floor. Patrick felt Brad expand inside of him as his lover called his name in release. Patrick whimpered softly as Brad slowly pulled out of his limp body. Only Brad’s hands on his hips kept him from falling into the mess he had made on the floor. Patrick let Brad move him onto the floor, but to one side of the mess.
“Don’t move.”
“Don’t think I can,” Patrick mumbled. He let his head fall down and found it resting on Brad’s discarded jacket. He didn’t remember getting it off of Brad. He was still in the process of getting his breathing under control again when Brad returned with a cloth to clean him up. The younger man had obviously found the kitchen. His considerate lover even rearranged his clothing for him.
“Sugar, don’t you have to go to work?”
Fingers brushed the slightly damp hair away from Patrick’s neck, and a soft kiss was placed there. “I don’t think I can move.” That was the understatement of the year. Patrick felt like his spine was made of Jell-O.
“I’ll be here when you get back. I’ll even make you dinner.”
“And clean up the mess you made?” Patrick asked, slowly sitting up. His ass throbbed as he moved. It seemed as though he was going to spend the day with a reminder of his time with Brad.
“Technically, you made the mess.”
“It’s entirely your fault for trying to fuck me through my floor.” Patrick had regained his bearings enough to turn and look at his lover. Brad was lying on the floor, looking up at him.
Brad gave him a lazy smile. “That was fun. I’ll clean up, Pat. Now go to work.”
“Fine,” Patrick sighed. He pushed himself to his feet and looked around for his jacket. Brad got to his feet and helped him to put it on, which Patrick actually appreciated. Brad had blown his mind enough that he was having trouble focusing. Once Brad had him in the jacket, Patrick found himself being pulled into a lazy kiss by his lapels. By the time he pulled away, Patrick felt much better about the upcoming day. “This is the best surprise ever.”
“I’m glad.”
“Feel free to look around. Bedroom’s upstairs if you want to have a nap.”
“I may do that. What about the dog?”
“Bingo will wake you up when she has to go out. I should be back sometime after five.” Patrick couldn’t bring himself to pull out of Brad’s arms. He was afraid the moment he did, what just happened would turn into a dream. “I’ll call the house on my lunch.”
“I’ll be here.” Brad pulled him in for another quick kiss. “Now get out of here.”
“Bossy.” Patrick grinned. “I like it.”
Brad laughed. “Goodbye, Patrick.”
“Bye, Angel.” Patrick stole one more kiss, then forced himself to leave the house. Standing on his front porch, he tried to wrap his head around what had just happened. It had been a while since the last time he had shown up at work with a sex-addled brain. He hoped that Justine wouldn’t be too upset with him.
Glancing at his watch, Patrick swore. He really was going to be late. As he ran to his car, his ass reminded him that it was sore. Smiling, he gingerly slid behind the wheel. Knowin
g that Brad would be waiting for him at home when he finished work made being late less important. It just meant he had less time before he would be able to be back in Brad’s arms.
BRAD woke from his nap feeling refreshed, happy, and sated. And sore. Sitting up in Patrick’s spacious bed, Brad flung the covers off of his lower body. There were red scuff marks on his knees. Brad felt a momentary pang of guilt. If his knees looked that bad, he wasn’t sure he wanted to see what Patrick’s looked like. Stifling a yawn, Brad stretched and let himself fall back against the bed. He knew he should get up, but not only was Patrick’s bed ridiculously comfortable, it also smelled like him. Brad had been without Patrick’s scent for over a month, and he didn’t relish the idea of moving away from it.
Hearing a noise, Brad turned his head. Standing near the foot of the bed was Bingo. The dog had followed him around the house while he had been snooping earlier. Brad wasn’t sure what she thought of him. He knew that she was an ex-police dog, but he wasn’t sure what that meant for how she acted around strangers. He just hoped that the fact that Patrick had left him in the house would indicate that he was safe. Greatly daring, Brad rolled to the edge of the bed and held out his hand.
Bingo padded over and gave his hand a thorough sniff. Her tail gave a small wag when she finished. Bingo put her paws on the bed, and Brad suddenly found himself with an incredibly friendly dog licking his face. He laughed and buried his face in her fur while petting her, attempting to get her to stop licking his face. Apparently deciding that he’d had enough, Bingo stopped licking him and dropped back onto the floor.
“Well, now I need a shower,” Brad murmured. He stretched once more before finally pushing himself out of the bed. His bag was still in the rental car. When he had arrived, he had been too eager to see Patrick to worry about his luggage. Deciding he really didn’t want to go out to the car, Brad started to rummage through Patrick’s drawers, looking for clothes. He found a pair of sweats and a T-shirt. Brad grabbed the items and took them with him into the attached bathroom.
Broken Wings Page 8
