Quiet Nights

by Mary Calmes

  I tried to smile. “’Cause you weren’t ready, and like I said, you would have never believed me. You lost your self-worth with your arm.”

  He took a breath. “I guess,” he allowed.

  “Do you believe me now?”

  “It’s not like that,” he said hoarsely, and the sound, throaty and deep, was so sexy. “I don’t trust other people but you—I mean, you’re what I know. You’re who I think of telling shit to, who I miss even when I’m busy doing something, and you’re who I want to roll over on top of in the morning.”

  I had to concentrate to keep my heart in my chest.

  “Every morning,” he insisted, leaning in, kissing me like I never had been, before him, devouring, our lips melded together, his tongue rubbing over mine, him holding me close, so tight that it would leave bruises.

  I loved it, succumbed to the feelings of his ownership and dominance, and still the kiss went on, the sensations, the fireworks swimming through my veins back to my heart, making the love swell even greater with hope. His words had given that to me. He wanted me to stay, and that was what “every morning” implied. When he woke up, I would be there.

  “You’re the only one I want to fuck me,” I confessed, and even though my words weren’t as eloquent as his, I saw the heat and hunger infuse his gaze.

  “You’ve never bottomed?”

  I shook my head.

  “You’re gonna give me a heart attack,” he whispered, lowering his face to mine, smiling as I reached for him.

  “I don’t wanna do that. You need that to love me with.”

  He arched an eyebrow as though I needed him to point out how cheesy that was.

  “Just—”

  “Dumbass,” he grumbled. “I’ve loved you since always.”

  His words sent a surge of electricity through me, and the resulting tremble was impossible to hide.

  “Liked that, did you?”

  I nodded like an idiot.

  “Yeah, so,” he said in his sultry growl, running his hand over the top of my head, fingers fluttering through my hair. “This is only a little longer than it was when we served.”

  “You wanna talk about my hair?”

  “No, I just—I don’t wanna make a mess of things.”

  “Messy’s okay,” I teased, hand stealing around the back of his neck. “It’s why I have a white suit. No cum stains.”

  “Oh for crissakes,” he groaned. “Can you be serious, please? What if—”

  “There’s no ‘what if,’ there’s no ‘when,’ there’s no ‘stop.’ It’s just us being us, together, like we are now—quiet nights at home, just better.”

  He scoffed. “You are awfully confident alluva sudden.”

  “Shouldn’t I be?” I asked pointedly. “You just told me you love me. That’s my dream right there. And I know you, if you say it’s one way, it is.”

  His eyes were so shiny as he stared at me.

  “So since I trust you, and you told me everything I’ve ever wanted to hear… what other way would I be but ecstatic and confident?”

  “You’re right; you be confident. I like you like this.”

  I was sure I was beaming at him.

  “But how could things be better than they are now?”

  I laughed at him. “Well, for instance, wouldn’t it be better with you buried to your balls in my ass?”

  He swallowed hard. “Yeah,” he finally answered before grabbing my hand, turning, and nearly jerking me off my feet. “That would be. Come on.”

  It was a big fat turn-on watching the man I loved hunger for me and want me back. I would follow him anywhere he wanted.

  A couple of minutes later, as we walked toward the town square, I glanced over at the ancient mangrove tree that the small coastal community was named for. There were, of course, many of those trees around, but that one was special. I had never seen one before I arrived and had been impressed when Coz first pointed it out.

  During the holidays, the tree was covered in lights; it was decorated on other holidays, too, like Halloween, with pumpkins placed between the branches. It sat smack dab in the center of town and everyone who was new––

  “Oh shit,” I gasped, stopping.

  He turned to me, and it was nice that when he did, he didn’t let go of my hand. “Oh shit, what?”

  “Your mother.”

  He smiled warmly. “You’re carrying my jacket.”

  “Yeah, and? How are you supposed to hold my hand if I don’t? There are better things for you to do with that hand than to carry shit.”

  He snorted out a laugh. “You’re the only one I know who doesn’t give a crap how I would take that.”

  “Because there’s only one way to take it. I want you to touch me.”

  “Which I wanna do right now, which is why I already called my mother when I was chasing you down the street and told her that neither one of us would be back and that I was going home with you.”

  “You did?”

  “I did.”

  I was absolutely charmed by that. He’d told his mother, simply confessed that which had ended everything with my biological family. “What—” I coughed. “—did she say?”

  “She said it was about fuckin’ time.”

  I was stunned. “Your mother swore?”

  “No, my mother didn’t swear!” he yelled. “It was hyperbole to prove a point!”

  “What point?” I asked calmly.

  “That apparently everyone but you and I knew about this and thought it was a good fuckin’ idea.”

  “Yeah? Everyone? Like for certain your mother?” Because she was the most important, after him. “You’re positive she liked the idea of us?” How amazingly wonderful would that be?

  “Yeah.”

  “You’re sure? She was happy?”

  “She is.”

  “Mia’s gonna be pissed we didn’t tell her.”

  “We didn’t know,” he murmured, lifting my hand to kiss my knuckles.

  “I knew.”

  “Next time, share. Actually, no, there isn’t going to be a next time. Once I’m in your bed, you’re not getting out.”

  I stopped walking so he’d have to as well. “That’s it, huh? You’re just moving in?”

  “I have a crappy little apartment that I hate—would living with me be so bad?”

  “Of course not, but come on… you don’t even know if this is gonna work.”

  He squeezed my hand tight while at the same time I put my other one on his cheek, caressing him.

  “This has already been working. It’s been five—almost six—years already. This is happening. Do you understand?”

  “Yeah,” I conceded as he pulled me close. “I do.”

  I kissed him breathless, and when he had to pry me off so he could breathe, it clicked in my brain that he needed to get me off the street before I begged him to take me right there.

  “Nobody’s ever wanted me like this,” he said when we started walking again.

  “Of course not,” I agreed. “I’m the only one for you.”

  “You don’t––” I heard the hesitation infuse his voice. He was a worrier, my man, and of course we were to that part of the program. “––I mean, you don’t think we’re changing things too fast, do you?”

  “I dunno?” I replied instead of answering.

  He was clearly deep in thought, not even paying attention to where we were going as I steered us down a side street that would lead to my house. I needed to shock the worry away and get back the guy who wanted to do sexy, dirty things to me.

  “Maybe we are moving too fast,” I mused, dropping his hand, putting space between us. “We should date instead; go slow like you were telling Hutch,” I finished cheerfully.

  “Fuck,” he groaned, retaking my hand, lacing our fingers together. “Really?”

  I shrugged, smiling at him.

  “We both know we’ve been dating since you moved here. We just didn’t recognize it.”

  “Yes, dea
r,” I agreed.

  “We belong together.”

  Just as long as we were clear.

  Chapter Six

  I TOLD him filthy things on the way home: things I’d done, chances I’d taken, how wild and promiscuous my past was. I knew why, of course. Because I wanted him to think that sex was no problem for me, that I was experienced and kinky and could rock his world.

  By the time we got to my front door, he was laughing.

  “What’s so funny?” I snapped, shaking as I tried to open it.

  “You manwhore,” he said, cackling. “Are you done telling me how deviant you are, or should I hear about the time you fucked the varsity football team in high school?”

  It wasn’t funny. I was a textbook case of once the family was gone—meaning home and security—I’d tried first to drown myself in sex, since that’s what I’d given the parents and sisters up for, and second looked for a knight in shining armor in every loser I crossed paths with.

  It was a damn inconvenient time to have an epiphany. “Oh shit,” I groaned as Coz took the keys from me, opened the door, and shoved me through.

  Locking the door behind him, Coz hung my keys up on the hook right beside it before flipping on the lamp. I was surprised by his expression when he rounded on me.

  “You just figure out that Britton’s been playing the part of a villain all these years for no good reason?”

  I could only stare at him.

  He took his jacket from me and laid it across the back of the couch before reaching for my face.

  I leaned into his hand, closing my eyes with the swell of emotions coursing through me.

  Easing me close, he tucked me against his chest, stroking my hair as we stood there and breathed.

  “You’ve told me that story about Britton and how you realized years later that no one rides in and saves you from your life,” he crooned, tipping my head back so he could see my face. “But did it ever occur to you when it was happening that you heard words or intentions that were never actually there?”

  “Not until just right now,” I admitted.

  “I think the reason Britton never showed that day was because what you heard and what he said were not the same thing.”

  I had wanted to be white-horsed so badly that I’d created the whole scenario in my head.

  “Not that he didn’t wanna get in your pants, and I have no doubt that he told you what you wanted to hear,” he assured me. “But now you’d know it was bullshit when it came out of the man’s mouth.”

  Yes.

  “But back then, you took it as gospel.”

  Dear God, I had. “How could I have been so stupid?”

  His laugh was deep and resonant and I liked the sound. “You were just a baby. You were only eighteen—what the hell did you know about anything?”

  “Fuck.”

  He gave me a smile that said I was dumb and dear at the exact same time.

  “Man, Britton Lassiter must think I’m a psycho,” I muttered, pulling away from him to walk around the couch and flop down on it. “Not to mention you.”

  He chuckled as he followed, and I watched as he took a seat beside me, loosened his boots, one after the other so he could toe them off, and then finally stretched out on the other end of my couch, pushing at me with his socked feet until I had to stand up.

  “What’re you doing?” I asked, my mouth dry, looking at him rumpled and comfortable sprawled below me.

  “Take off the jacket and the vest and the shirt,” he ordered gently.

  I followed directions quickly, and he watched intently until I was naked from the waist up, shoes also off, hovering over him

  “Now lie down here,” he finished, patting his chest so I’d know where he wanted me.

  I crawled over him and he didn’t move, letting me settle, drape my body over his, press him down under me. My head over his heart, I heard how fast it was beating, like a drum, even though his voice flowed like syrup on a warm day.

  “So I need you to forgive Britton, since he was actually innocent of being a dreambreaker,” he mused, nuzzling his face against my hair, lifting his knee, wedging his thigh between mine as he grabbed a handful of my ass to bring me even tighter against him. “Douche bag, yes. But he was not Prince Charming in the flesh.”

  “Why’re you caring about Britton?”

  “Because I don’t want anything or anyone between us,” he explained as he tilted my head up so I could see him. “I want to be the only one in your head and in your heart and… just… you know.”

  “In me?” I teased.

  His glower was hot. “I’m trying to have a fuckin’ moment here and—”

  “Shut up,” I said affectionately, smiling as I stared at him, memorizing every line on his face, the clench of his sharp, square jaw and the mostly blown pupils. “I may have been mulling over the past, but I’ve been securely standing here, in the present with you, for a very long fuckin’ time.”

  “What does that mean?” he asked, jolting under me as I sat up, dragging my ass over his groin before I straddled his hips.

  “That means there’s only been room for you for years.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I promise,” I said as I leaned over and kissed him, feeling lighter, freer, and more than anything, full of voracious, consuming need.

  More than anyone else, I wanted Cosimo Renaldi. Britton amounted to a childhood crush in comparison. To have Coz under me, wanting me, already my best friend and poised now to become my lover, nearly overloaded me with happiness. It had to be what winning the lottery was like, except it was a win for my whole life, every part.

  I kissed him hard and deep, wanting all of him, feasting, claiming, and biting when he tried to pull away even for a heartbeat.

  “Fuck, I knew you’d taste good,” he gasped, rolling me to my back, powering me down, letting me feel the strength in his long, muscular body before he took control and delivered one ravaging, drowning kiss after another.

  I lost time because the end of wanting, of yearning, was buried down so far that excavating it, dredging it from the well of my heart made everything else fade to nothing. There was only his hot, hungry mouth and his hand tugging at my belt, working open the fastener on my suit pants and sliding down the zipper. When he slipped his hard, callused hand under the elastic of my briefs and wrapped his long fingers around my length, I bucked into his grip, wanting more.

  “God, you’re gorgeous,” he husked, stroking me as he kissed up my throat to my jaw and up behind my ear. “Your gold skin and your big beautiful eyes that I hate to say are green ’cause that’s not enough when I tell people, and your mouth and your perfect round ass.”

  Oh dear God, he thought I was pretty?

  “I can’t stand how everyone stares at you and wants to touch you because I want that to be just me. I wanna be the only one.”

  “Yes,” I whined in the back of my throat. “Just you.”

  “Where’s your lube?” he whispered into my ear.

  I muttered the answer about the nightstand, and he unceremoniously dumped me on my side as he rolled off the couch.

  “You—”

  “Get up,” he rumbled, grabbing hold of my hand and pulling me to my feet.

  He dragged me behind him to my bedroom and shoved me down onto the mattress, my feet on the floor, as he went to the nightstand.

  “What do you want me to—Coz!”

  I wanted to know what he liked, if he wanted me to blow him first or if he just wanted to fuck me, but he’d grabbed the lube and returned faster than I was expecting. He dropped to his knees, shucked my unfastened pants enough to let my cock bob free, and then took my hard, leaking shaft down the back of his throat.

  The movement was seamless, fluid, and the suction brought a hoarse cry from my chest, his name torn out of me.

  “Fuck,” I yelled, writhing under him, hearing the cap of the tube snap open and shivering with anticipation.

  “We can wait,” he said, his voi
ce deep and ragged after he let my cock slip free of his mouth. “I can make you come just like this or you can fuck me. I don’t care. I just wanna touch you.”

  In answer, I rolled to my stomach and arched my back, showing him what I wanted, needed to have.

  His hand trailed down my back before his lips followed, all the way to my ass. He pushed my face down onto the bed before his fingers were at my entrance, spreading me for his tongue.

  “Oh fuck,” I moaned loudly, my voice decadent, filled with longing. No one had ever taken such time with me. I’d never been rimmed in my life, never experienced the soft, wet muscle sliding into my hole, swirling, pressing, the languorous licking that made me want more.

  He sucked and laved and ordered me to grab my dick and pull. My words were gone, only sounds remained. When he replaced his tongue with first one lubed finger and then a second one, I began babbling, pleading, needing him before I came, the edge of my vision going white with the throb of my imminent orgasm.

  I felt him at my entrance a moment before he pressed inside. The wide head stretching me caused a twinge of pain that quickly became an engulfing burn that sucked and leeched the pleasure from my body, leaving me trembling as I struggled to accept his girth, huge enough that it could rip me apart if we weren’t careful.

  “Wait.” He gentled me as his slick hand wrapped around my cock, squeezing tight, sliding from balls to head, over and over as he kissed my shoulder and up the side of my neck.

  The roll of arousal became a thrumming in my chest, spreading warmth through my body, making me shiver in his embrace, my balls drawing up tight as he pulled out an inch or so before thrusting back inside.

  A second retreat, and he slid deeper into me on the return, the angle dragging him over my prostate, and I actually saw stars.

  “Do it again!” I demanded, pushing back, wanting him in, not out, desire driving my body and nothing else.

  He eased back and drove forward, hard, fast, and I gasped with how full I was, how stretched, how used.

  “Please,” I begged.

  “I want to be in you, all the time, forever—do you understand?”

  I did. “I do.”