The Magic in Your Touch

by Sara Bell

  Brandon was having trouble catching his breath. Nate opened the door wide to let some of the smell escape and then ran some fresh water in a paper cup and handed it to Brandon. When he was able to speak, Bran said, “Would you mind explaining to me why it smells like Christmas in here?”

  Nate looked concerned. “You don’t like cedar and cinnamon? I thought everybody did.”

  “I didn’t say I didn’t like it. I’m just not used to taking a bath at Santa’s Cottage, that’s all.”

  “Sorry. I guess I used too much.”

  Brandon’s eyes were so watery, he had trouble looking Nate in the face. “Used too much what? And why is the bathtub so damn slippery? I’ll be lucky to get out without cracking my head open.”

  “I’m sorry, Brandon. Let me just put my clothes back on and cut the music off. Then I’ll help you out of the tub and clean up this mess.” He turned to leave, but Brandon stopped him.

  “Nate?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Come here.”

  Nate walked over to the edge of the tub. He looked so cute with his lip poked out that Brandon almost started laughing. He opened his arms and said, “Get in with me?”

  Nate didn’t have to be asked twice. He climbed into the tub, forgetting about the oil. He slipped and would have hit his head against the side if Brandon hadn’t caught him. Brandon settled him in front of him and looked at him with newly cleared eyes.

  Nate’s face was burning with embarrassment. “I guess this wasn’t one of my better ideas, huh?”

  Brandon was doing his best not to laugh. Whatever this was meant something to Nate, and Bran wasn’t about to ruin it for him. Instead, he said, “Not that I’m complaining, but would you mind telling me what this is all about?”

  “I put cinnamon essential oil in the tub so you would smell it when the tub filled up. Oh, and I got some of those things that fit over light bulbs. These are cedar scented, but I guess you already knew that. You know, those ring things? Anyway, when the light bulbs heat up, the fragrance is released. I wanted the smell to be really strong, so I put three against each bulb, one on top and one on each side. I probably went overboard, huh?”

  Brandon said, “Maybe just a little bit. May I ask why you chose cedar and cinnamon?”

  Nate’s entire body went red. “They’re, uh, supposed to be aphrodisiacs.”

  Brandon wasn’t sure he was hearing right. “You turned our bathtub into an oil slick because you were trying to sex me up? Why the hell didn’t you just ask me?”

  Nate spoke so softly, Brandon could barely hear him. He finally had to ask him to repeat himself. Without looking at him, Nate said, “I’ve made you do without for over a month. I was afraid you might. . .”

  Brandon said, “You thought I might be out for a little revenge. Thought I might make you wait just to see you suffer a little bit.”

  Nate whispered, “Yeah. I wouldn’t blame you if you did. I deserve it.”

  Brandon tilted Nate’s chin until he was looking up at him. “No, you don’t. You’ve been hurting, Nate. I would never hold that against you. Never.”

  Nate nodded. “Rationally, I know that, but I’ve been so mixed up, Bran. I’ve wanted you, and then felt guilty about it. Today I realized the only way I was ever going to feel normal again was just to go on with my life the best way that I can. I need you, Bran. Really need you. I want you to be a part of me again. Please.”

  The CD changed from Closer to Colorblind by the Counting Crows. Brandon pulled Nate up and onto his lap. “You don’t ever have to say please to me, Nate. You don’t have to ask for what’s already yours.” Then he pulled him closer and kissed him.

  Brandon noticed two things. He could feel his dick getting hard against Nate’s leg, and Nate’s mouth tasted funny. It didn’t taste bad. In fact, it tasted good, all sweet and spicy. Brandon pulled back and raised a brow.

  Nate grinned. “Clove flavored toothpaste.”

  “Another aphrodisiac?”

  “Yep. Did it work?”

  Brandon pulled him in again. “Come here and let me show you.”

  Brandon kissed him with all the pent up hunger of the past thirty days. Every minute he’d spent missing Nate, longing for him, went into that kiss. When he finally had to go up for air, they were both gasping for breath and sporting first class erections.

  Nate said, “Make love to me, Brandon. I’m ready.”

  “We need to get out of this tub. The lube—”

  “Already taken care of.” He grinned as Brandon slipped one finger easily inside him. “What do you think I was doing in the bedroom while you were getting in the tub? Besides, if I hadn’t taken care of it, the oil in this water would have. By the way, I asked the lady at the herb store and she said this oil was safe for internal and external use. And before you get all mad about me going out by myself, I took Sam with me.”

  Brandon added another finger. “I’m not mad. And I’m through talking.” With that pronouncement, Brandon removed his finger and replaced it with the head of his cock. He watched Nate’s face for any signs of discomfort. Finding none, he slid inside, inch by inch, until Nate was sitting all the way down on him, completely impaled.

  “Oh God, that feels so good. I’ve missed you, Bran. I’ve missed this.’

  Brandon was finding it hard to form a complete sentence. Nate was so hot, so tight. The warm water lapping up against them and the look of rapture on Nate’s face were too much. Brandon wanted to take it slow, to savor the feelings of being inside the man he loved, but he couldn’t. He grabbed Nate’s hips and raised him almost completely off, then lowered him back down. With each stroke and thrust Brandon felt himself moving closer to the edge. He changed the direction of his thrusts and aimed for Nate’s prostate. He used one slippery hand to stroke Nate’s erection while his other hand guided Nate up and down. When Nate screamed out and shot all over Brandon’s stomach, he thrust upwards one more time and filled Nate with his release.

  Nate collapsed against Brandon’s chest. Brandon wrapped his arms around him and put his lips to Nate’s ear. “I love you, Nate. I’ve missed you so damn much. I thought I was gonna go out of my mind.”

  “I’m sorry, Brandon. I never meant to hurt you like that.”

  “Shh. I wasn’t trying to make you feel guilty. Just don’t shut me out like that again, okay? Whatever it is, we’ll handle it together.”

  Nate nodded, but didn’t say anything. Brandon could tell he was tired. “Come on. Let’s get out of this tub. If you fall asleep, I’ll have to carry you. As slick as this sucker is, we’re liable to slip and break something vital.”

  Nate stood up and got out first. He managed to make it onto the mat without falling. Brandon got out next. He almost made it. He would have, if he hadn’t accidentally put his left foot on the tile instead of the mat. He slid backwards and grabbed for the first thing his hands came in contact with. Nate.

  Nate made a desperate attempt to keep them both upright, but it didn’t work. Brandon fell in a sitting position onto the commode, which was closed, thank God. Nate landed hard on his lap, knocking the breath out of him.

  When Brandon was able to breathe again, he said, “Are you all right, babe?”

  Nate was shaking. At first Brandon thought he was hurt, but he soon realized Nate was laughing. He turned around and gave Brandon an apologetic grin. “I guess next time I decide to provide a little romantic atmosphere, I should warn you first, huh?”

  Brandon snorted. “First of all, I don’t ever need help getting aroused. Just looking at you does the trick. Second, with you being a doctor and all, I’m just glad you didn’t decide to slip me a couple of Viagra. My dick probably would have broken in half when you landed on it just now.”

  * * * Being in bed with Nate and having no barriers between them again was heaven for Brandon. Of course, being completely naked was nice, too. Brandon held back the covers as Nate crawled underneath and leaned in for a kiss. Brandon pulled him down, rolled on top of him and
started sucking on his neck.

  “If you give me a hickey, you’ll have to explain it to your mother.”

  “If she says anything I’ll remind her of all the times she’s had to wear a scarf to church to hide some of the hickeys dad has planted on her from Pastor Oakley.” He resumed nibbling.

  Nate jumped as Brandon moved from his neck to his shoulder. “Does this mean I’m forgiven for oiling up the tub?”

  Brandon licked his way down Nate’s breast bone. “Yes, but I can think of things I’d much rather oil up.”

  Nate gave him a put-upon sigh, but Brandon wasn’t buying it. “I suppose if you must, you must.”

  Brandon moved his hands down Nate’s stomach to the dark blonde hair between his legs. “If I must, huh? I’ll show you just what I must do.” Brandon had just reached the good stuff when the phone rang.

  He fell back onto the bed. “Fuck. What’s a guy got to do to get a little lovin’ around here?”

  Nate nudged him in the ribs. “Quit bitching and answer the phone. It could be important.”

  Brandon gave up and reached for the receiver. “Nash.”

  “Nash, it’s Howard. If you aren’t already, you might want to get dressed.”

  Brandon sat up. “What is it? Where are you?”

  “I’m at a motel just inside of the Chicago city limits. We’ve found Wilson.”

  Brandon was already on his way to the closet to grab a fresh pair of jeans. “Have you questioned him yet?”

  “Nope.”

  Brandon tugged on his jeans, not bothering with underwear. “Why the hell not?”

  “Because I’m not John Edwards and I left my crystal ball at home. Hate to tell you this, Nash. Wilson’s dead.”

  Chapter 14 Even though Brandon had seen pictures of Wilson, the image he’d built of him in his mind was of a man with almost super-human abilities, able to blend in anywhere at any time. A chameleon capable of wreaking havoc and destruction of mammoth proportions. He’d inflated Wilson, made him into some type of mythological phantom. Now he saw him for exactly what he was: a corpse. Death, the great equalizer.

  The Sunshine Motel didn’t exactly live up to its name, but had the room not been crawling with Howard’s men, it wouldn’t have been half bad. The single bed and double dresser looked new, and the floral wallpaper gave the place a homey touch. The carpet was clean, and the sheets probably had been, too, before Wilson decided to die on them. A table beside the bed held a bottle of whiskey and an empty glass.

  Brandon stood in the doorway surveying the scene when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to see Howard standing behind him.

  “Thanks for getting here so fast, Nash. How’s Doc doing?”

  “Anxious. I called my brother to stay with him until I get back.”

  Howard nodded. “This place has a coffee shop just around the corner. We can talk there while my guys finish up in here.”

  Brandon followed Howard into the brightly lit café. An attractive young waitress came and took their order, smiling and laughing as if it was an everyday occurrence to have a customer die in one of the rooms. Not that Brandon could find fault with her. Personally, he felt like doing cartwheels over Wilson’s dead body. The coffee arrived and he took a bracing sip before saying, “What do you know so far?”

  Howard drank down half of the scalding liquid in his own cup in one long sip. “Wilson had a telephone call up at the main desk sometime around eleven o’clock. The clerk transferred it to his room, but no one answered. The caller, who identified himself as Wilson’s brother, insisted that the clerk go down there and check on him. The door was unlocked, so he went inside. That’s when he found the body.”

  “Any ideas on cause of death?”

  “The coroner didn’t find any signs of physical trauma, but you know as well as I do that doesn’t mean anything. I’ve put a rush order on the autopsy, so maybe we’ll know within the next couple of days. We’re running a trace on the phone call, and of course, doing the whole ‘fine-toothed-comb’ routine on the room. So far, we haven’t turned up anything useful, but there’s always hope.” Howard took another swig of coffee. “At least you know Wilson’s no longer a threat to Doc.”

  “It sure seems that way, doesn’t it?”

  Howard leaned back against the vinyl booth and eyed Brandon with a cop’s perception. “What’s with you, Nash? I should think you’d be damn happy right about now. I know I am, and it’s not even my fiancé that was being threatened.”

  Brandon ran his fingers through his hair. “Am I happy that Wilson’s no longer in a position to hurt Nate or anyone else? Hell, yes. But doesn’t it all feel a bit too easy to you?”

  “Explain.” Brandon pushed his cup aside and said, “I’m not sure I can explain it, exactly. It’s more a feeling than anything.” He pulled a hundred dollar bill from his pocket and laid it on the table in front of Howard. “Ben Franklin there says that the autopsy reveals Wilson died of natural causes. Four more just like him if it isn’t said to be some kind of heart failure.”

  Howard whistled “Five hundred bucks on heart failure, huh? I might take that bet if you didn’t seem so damn sure of yourself.”

  “Right now all I’m sure of is that this whole thing is coming together just a little too neatly for my taste. The evidence against Calder, the connections to Wilson, and now the only witness, the hit man, all nice and dead, almost as if on cue. I’ve been a cop in one form or another for too damn long not to know that cases don’t just come to a pretty little gift-wrapped conclusion.”

  Howard said, “Not that I’m disagreeing with you, but you should know that once the autopsy’s done, my office is going to call me and my team back to Washington. With Wilson dead, we’re officially out of it.”

  “No offense, Howard, and don’t think I haven’t been grateful for the help, but I believe I can take it from here.” The gleam in Brandon’s eyes was savage, feral. “If Calder isn’t Wilson’s money man, I’ll find the bastard who is. And God help him when I do.”

  * * *

  Nate was sitting at the table when Brandon came in the next morning. The minute Bran walked through the door, Nate got up and fixed him a plate of eggs, sausage and biscuits. Brandon walked over to the stove and gave him a slow kiss. He pulled back and took his plate over to the table. Nate brought over two fresh cups of coffee and sat down beside him.

  “You look like you’ve had a rough night.”

  Brandon took in Nate’s bloodshot eyes and uncombed hair. “So do you. Did you sleep at all?”

  “A little bit.” He gave Brandon a sheepish grin. “I have trouble sleeping when you aren’t with me.”

  Brandon thought back to his long month in the guest room, and to all the nightmares he’d had before Nate came along. “Believe me when I tell you, I know how you feel.” He looked around the kitchen. “Where’s Keith? Come to think of it, I didn’t see his car outside.”

  “He got a call from the hospital about an hour ago. One of his MS patients was having an episode, so he had to go. And before you have a fit, Deputy Mason has been on duty all night long. If you look through the kitchen window, you can see his car.”

  “I’m not going to pitch a fit, but I didn’t want you to be alone. I know how hard this has been on you.”

  Nate reached across the table and took Brandon’s hand. “I’m alright, Bran.” He took a deep breath. “Is Wilson really dead?”

  Brandon stood up, bringing Nate with him. He led him into the living room and sat down on the couch, pulling Nate onto his lap. He wrapped both arms around him and said, “He’s dead, baby. I saw the body myself.”

  Nate laid his head against Brandon’s shoulder. “Your breakfast is getting cold.” Brandon rubbed his hands up and down Nate’s back. “I’m not worried about food right now. All I care about is how you’re taking all this.”

  Nate drew in another deep breath and let it out again slowly. “I’m not sure, Brandon. I mean, as a doctor, I was taught that all life is sac
red. At the same time, I feel like doing flips in the back yard because the bastard who put poor Marjorie Newman in a coma and killed Amy won’t be able to hurt anyone ever again.” He caressed Brandon’s shoulder and fingered the ridge of scar tissue under his shirt. “The stitches may be gone, but you’ll always have a scar from that knife Wilson tossed at you. I wanted him dead for that alone.”

  Brandon un-tucked Nate’s shirt so he could massage the small of his back, skin to skin. The contact with Nate’s warm flesh helped drive away the chill of the last few hours. “I had to force myself not to do a gymnastics routine over Wilson’s corpse, so I imagine those feelings are normal. Even if they aren’t, nobody’s gonna fault you for them.”

  Nate sighed as Brandon worked the tension out of his muscles. “Any idea as to cause of death?”

  “Howard put a rush job on the autopsy. We should know within the next couple of days.”

  “What about my dad? What’s going to happen to him?”

  Brandon tipped him back over his arm so he could look into his eyes. “I’m not going to lie to you, Nate. There’s enough evidence for a good prosecutor to put him away. Are you going to be okay with that?”

  Nate’s face hardened. “Yeah. Before, when it was just me, I had mixed feelings, but with you getting in Wilson’s way and Amy gone. . .” He trailed off as tears filled his eyes.

  Brandon brought him against his chest again. “Shh, baby. We don’t have to talk about this right now.”

  Nate shook his head. “Actually, we do. Now that my father is in custody and the investigation on what’s left of my office has been concluded, the insurance agent is anxious to settle. He called me yesterday afternoon. Apparently Howard filed his report and my insurance company wants it all over and done with.”

  Brandon kissed Nate’s forehead. “Why didn’t you tell me last night?”

  Nate leaned back and gave him a grin. “If you’ll remember, I had other plans last night.” His expression grew serious again. “Then Howard called, and you had to leave. This is really the first chance I’ve had to discuss it with you.”