by A. M. Arthur
The morning blowjob was interrupted a few moments later by a sharp knock on the door. The knocker didn’t wait for a response, just opened the door. Ezra’s dark eyebrows shot up, even as his eyes softened with lust. A red-hot flush crept up Jaime’s face and down his chest, as much from embarrassment as excitement at being caught with a dick in his mouth.
“Was gonna ask if you hotties wanted breakfast,” Ezra said. “Something more filling than a protein shake?”
Emboldened in a way that he couldn’t explain to himself, Jaime held up a single finger in a “give me a moment” gesture, then went back to his task. He didn’t know or care if Ezra stayed and watched; he just wanted to make Alessandro come. He sucked and licked and grazed the sensitive skin with his teeth. Alessandro was making noise, thrusting his hips, doing everything he could to tell Jaime how close he was. A splash of bitter precome made Jaime double his efforts.
He wet a finger with spit, then slid it down to rub the smooth skin behind Alessandro’s balls. Alessandro snapped his hips up, his cock head hitting the back of Jaime’s throat. Jaime pressed against Alessandro’s balls with the heel of his hand while his fingertip slid lower and rubbed over Alessandro’s anus.
Alessandro came with a shout, and Jaime swallowed as fast as he could, taking everything Alessandro gave him. Loving the way his thighs shook and his breathing rasped and his chest heaved as he drifted down from the high of his orgasm. Jaime gave his softening dick one last, long lick, then sat back on his heels.
Ezra still leaned in the doorway, eyes half-lidded as he watched, one hand cupping his own erection through his tented pajama bottoms. “That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve seen in years,” he said, his smooth voice barely a whisper. “Fuck.”
Jaime grinned at Ezra, unsure of the next play. He was hard now, so was Ezra and—Ezra’s eyes broke contact and his gaze dropped. An eyebrow went up. Jaime looked down at his naked chest. Ezra was looking right at his surgical scar. That awareness worked better than a bucket of cold water. He grabbed blindly for the sheet and yanked it up over the scar.
Ezra blinked hard, blushed to the roots of his white-blond hair and left the room. He pulled the door shut behind him.
“Hey, come here.” Alessandro sat up and pulled Jaime into a tight hug. Jaime burrowed into his arms and rested his cheek against his shoulder. He was an idiot for reacting like that. But Alessandro knew the story behind the scar, and Jaime wasn’t really up to discussing it with Ezra.
“I just ruined a perfectly good moment, didn’t I?” Jaime asked.
“Not even close.” He pressed a kiss to the side of Jaime’s head. “You know what I think when I see that scar?”
“No.”
“I think, thank God he’s alive and in my life.”
A wonderful shiver danced down Jaime’s spine. “Really?”
“Definitely. You don’t have to be embarrassed by it.”
“I know. Give me time?”
“All the time you need, babe.”
They sat together a while longer, just holding each other, until they both had to urinate. They found their clothes and dressed before leaving the guest room. Ezra was on the couch drinking coffee when they walked past. The bathroom was barely large enough for both of them to fit, but they made it work as they each did their business and washed up a little.
“Where’s Romy?” Alessandro asked when they both reemerged.
“He left early,” Ezra replied. “He had to get to work by nine.”
“On a Sunday?”
“Retail slave.”
“Ah.”
“There’s coffee in the pot, sugar in the blue bowl.”
Jaime hung close while Alessandro found mugs and poured them both coffee. Jaime dumped a few teaspoons of sugar into his mug, craving the sweetness and caffeine after such a sleepless night. They settled on the couch opposite Ezra, whose space was surrounded by pages of the Sunday paper.
“I apologize if I overstepped this morning,” Ezra said.
“You didn’t,” Jaime replied. Ezra was too beautiful to shut out. “I just get a little uptight about my scar.”
“Understandable. So many people put a high emphasis on perfection, especially among young gay men. The thing most don’t remember, though, is that even the most outwardly beautiful men can be disasters inside.” He spoke with a conversational tone, but a lingering hint of sadness colored the words with experience.
Jaime’s curiosity burned bright. He wouldn’t ask, though.
“So you two are welcome to hang out here,” Ezra said. “But I understand if you need to get going.”
“We probably should head out soon,” Alessandro replied.
“Of course. Let me know the next time you’re in town, and we’ll do this again. With or without a fourth.”
They drank their coffee and made jokes about stories in the paper for another thirty minutes, until Alessandro began to look restless. Jaime took that as their cue to leave. He hugged Ezra a little longer than was probably appropriate, glad to have at least made another friend. Ezra whispered something to Alessandro when they hugged, and Alessandro smiled.
The cool morning air woke Jaime the rest of the way up, and they walked quickly back to the parking lot and Alessandro’s car. They got breakfast at a drive-thru, and Jaime inhaled his food, his hunger awoken by the scent of grease and bacon. The silence in the car felt natural, but it also had an air of tension he couldn’t figure out.
They were less than five minutes from his house when Jaime blurted out, “I’d like to do that again.”
“Which part?”
He nearly said all of it, but that wasn’t quite true. “Pot O Gold. Dancing. Being seen like that was really hot. I felt…powerful. I’ve never felt that way before.”
“You looked powerful.” Alessandro’s voice dropped to a sexy growl. “And so fucking hot.”
He shivered. “I felt hot. Sexy, too.”
“You are, Jaime. I wish you could see yourself the way others see you.”
“I see it when you’re watching me with someone else.”
Alessandro’s hands gripped the wheel hard enough that the plastic squeaked. “Do you like that? Me watching?”
“Sometimes.”
Alessandro pulled alongside the curb, still a block from the house, and he shifted into park. He started straight ahead for several seconds. Jaime’s heart beat harder and his mouth went dry. He turned sideways in his seat, eyes burning with something Jaime couldn’t identify.
“I wouldn’t have been mad if you’d wanted to fuck Ezra, you know,” Alessandro said quietly.
The words sent a bolt of arousal straight to Jaime’s groin. “I didn’t want to fuck him, Alè. I wanted you to fuck me exactly like you did.” His lips twitched with more words.
Alessandro caught it. “What is it? You can tell me anything. I swear it won’t shock me, and I won’t laugh at you. Ever.”
Jaime swallowed hard. “You watching Ezra touch me last night? I liked it. I was nervous, yeah, but I did like it. A lot.”
“Do you want me to watch you with someone else?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe.”
He licked his lips, Adam’s apple bobbing. “Ezra?”
“Him, if anyone.”
“You’re attracted to him.”
“A little, yes. When he watched me suck you off this morning? A little part of me wanted to go over and do the same for him.”
A soft moan escaped Alessandro’s throat. “Were you worried what I’d think?”
“I didn’t get a chance to think it through.” He sighed. “He saw my scar and I lost my nerve.”
“Do you want to go back next weekend?”
“To Pot O Gold?”
“To Ezra’s place.”
Desire shot through Jaime’s guts. “Maybe. Only if it’s something you want.”
“This is all about you, babe.”
“This is about us. You have feelings too, Alè, and they’re important to me. You�
�re important to me.” Getting those subtle nods and signals from Alessandro last night while dancing had meant so much to Jaime. He could relax and get into it knowing Alessandro approved. He’d have stopped in an instant if he ever thought otherwise.
“Is that what you want, though?” Alessandro’s expression changed, going from lustful to intently serious. “Do you want to be with Ezra?”
Jaime tried to imagine it. Tried to picture himself actually doing with Ezra the sexy things he loved doing with Alessandro. Trusting Ezra to penetrate his body the way Alessandro did. Lust was one thing; acting on a fantasy was quite another. “Not like I want to be with you,” Jaime replied. “I could never let him fuck me.”
“But you liked him touching you.”
“Sure. You liked it, too.”
Alessandro nodded, and something clicked for Jaime. Ezra’s words from the bar came back to him, about Alessandro liking to be fucked hard. Was Alessandro trying to suggest a threesome so that he could get fucked in a way he didn’t think Jaime could manage? Or he didn’t want Jaime to try at all?
“Do you want Ezra to fuck you?” The blunt question fell from Jaime’s lips without permission.
Alessandro’s mouth popped open in surprise. “We were together once, a few months ago.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“Do I want Ezra to fuck me? Not really, no. Did I enjoy it when he did? Yes. I like being on the receiving end once in a while, Jaime, but it’s not a deal breaker. I love being inside you too much.”
Jaime wasn’t certain the explanation made him feel any better, but he could accept it. He was slowly learning and accepting quite a few things about himself. He liked sucking cock and he liked having one up his ass. He loved kissing. And last night he’d discovered he kind of liked being on display, being admired and touched. He had a hidden exhibitionist side that he’d never known about. The one thing he was more certain of right now was his inability to share—specifically, to share Alessandro. Even with Ezra.
He studied Alessandro, working up the nerve to put a blunt question across to him, hoping he was observant enough to read his reaction right. “Alè, if I told you I wanted you to watch while Ezra fucked me”—Alessandro’s eyebrows jumped—”is that something you would want to do?” Jaime put as much emphasis on “you” as he could.
Alessandro stared at him, his face perfectly still—too still. The utter, outward calm was a tell. Just like the hardness deep in his eyes was a tell, and a sure sign of him battling his temper. Jaime nearly whooped with victory before anything was said out loud, because he was confident Alessandro didn’t want to share, either. Not deep down. Not really.
“Would I want to see another guy fuck you?” Alessandro asked, his voice too measured. “No. Maybe as part of a planned threesome, but not if I was excluded. Not while…”
“Not while what?”
“Not while we’re involved.”
Jaime grinned. “Good answer.”
Alessandro laughed, then pulled him across the seat for a hard, fast kiss that was over before it could become anything. “You’re trouble.”
“And you’re an excellent mentor.” And an excellent boyfriend. He hoped the unspoken sentence came through somehow, whether in words or expression. “Thank you for everything this weekend.”
“Even the bakery getting vandalized?”
“That wasn’t your fault, and you know it.”
“You really should have called the police.”
Jaime groaned. “Can we not ruin a perfectly wonderful goodbye with talk of that stupid paint? Please?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t like that you were targeted.”
“Join the club. I thought Shannon was going to shit bricks when she saw it.”
Alessandro snickered, then shifted and pulled back onto the street. “I’d have liked to see that, actually. Sounds like a real talent.”
“She can get very impressively pissed if you give her a good reason, trust me.”
The car pulled into the driveway all too soon. Shannon’s car was missing, which didn’t surprise him too much. She’d started having a life of her own again in the last year or so, and he didn’t begrudge her a night out. Sunday was the only morning she didn’t have to be to work by three, which made dating a little hellish. She adored that bakery, though, come hell or high water or burned muffin tops.
“You gonna stop by the bakery tomorrow before close?” Alessandro asked, almost shyly, like he doubted the answer he was about to get.
“I can’t think of a reason to not come,” Jaime replied. He leaned over for a longer, tongue-inclusive kiss that almost had him inviting Alessandro inside. But he had a class to catch up on, and a lot of reading to fill the rest of his Sunday afternoon. Sex had to wait.
Jaime stood on the front stoop while Alessandro had backed up, then disappeared down the quiet street. Two houses over, Mr. DeAngelo was mowing his lawn. Across from him two little girls were playing with some sort of hot-pink badminton set and doing very poorly at the game. A young couple with a stroller walked down the sidewalk opposite Jaime’s house. All components to the picture of a perfectly normal suburban neighborhood.
“And then there’s me,” he said to a squirrel who didn’t even pause in his mad dash for another acorn.
* * *
Alessandro had to force himself to not go hunting for Tony when Eunice said he’d gone to the park again with his friends. He bit his tongue to keep the things he had to say about Tony’s so-called friends to himself. Molly was there, mixing cookie dough by hand with Eunice, and those words were not for precious ears. So he helped them make a few trays of chocolate-chip cookies, then chased a handful with a glass of milk. The distraction kept him from thinking too hard about the two most problematic men in his life: Jaime (a good problem) and Justin (a bad one).
He was fairly certain Justin was responsible for painting “fag” on the bakery’s front window. He was also still nervous about Justin’s vague threat against Eunice and the kids. Eunice said they’d had a quiet Saturday night watching movies and eating popcorn, and he believed her. She knew he was there to help, and he was certain she wouldn’t hide trouble from him.
After their milk and cookies, Molly went to the backyard to read and Eunice began cleaning the kitchen. He stacked the leftover cookies into a Tupperware container that was at least thirty years old and still going strong.
“So how are things with young Mr. Winters?” Eunice asked as she ran a sink of dishwater.
Alessandro fumbled a cookie and it snapped it half as he saved it from falling to the floor. Except for that enchilada dinner, he hadn’t once brought Jaime over to the house while Eunice or the kids were home. Then again, Eunice wasn’t stupid and he never lied about who he was spending time with on the weekends. He stared at the back of her long, perfectly braided silver hair, unsure how to answer.
“They’re going well,” he said. “We’re still kind of discreet about seeing each other.”
“Of course.” Eunice looked calmly over her shoulder, absolutely no judgment there. “You never came out here in Perch Creek. I imagine this is difficult for you, as well as him. Adjusting to everything.”
“I honestly don’t give a shi—crap who knows I’m gay.” He stopped messing with the cookies and moved to stand next to the sink. “I’m not sure how to explain it to Molly and Tony, but the townies? Whatever.”
“So what’s dimming that brightly burning spirit of yours, love? I’ve known you too many years to not know when something’s troubling you.”
He turned the faucet off before the sudsy water overflowed onto the floor. “I guess I’m worried that someone out there still holds a grudge against me for something from high school, and that Jaime will get caught in the middle.”
“You can’t allow those kinds of what-ifs to keep you from opening your heart. We can’t stop the people we love from getting hurt. Take it from a woman who’s fostered kids for thirty years. Heartbreak is a part of life, I’m
afraid.” She wiped her hands on a towel, then began twisting the wedding band around her finger. “Losing Sully was the worst pain I’ve felt in my life, but I’d never give up a single moment I had with that man. Love is a challenge and it’s sometimes a battlefield, but the rewards far outweigh the bad times.”
He paused as long as necessary to show he agreed with her, then said, “Thank you.”
“Anytime, sweetheart.”
He finished putting the cookies away while she washed the mixing bowls and sheet trays. Her words had been beautiful and exactly the right things to say. Only his anxiety was still there, because he hadn’t been talking about some hypothetical threat to Jaime. The threat was very real and living in town with a huge, toxic chip on his shoulder.
And Alessandro had to come up with a plan before that chip turned into a deadly weapon.
Chapter Fifteen
By the Wednesday after their Pot O Gold excursion, Jaime had made a decision. He’d almost made the same decision on Monday when he and Alessandro hooked up after work, and he almost made it again yesterday. He wasn’t going to chicken out again today, though. He’d gone to bed thinking about it and woke up still thinking about it. Time to tell Alessandro what he wanted, and no backing out.
He did everything like usual: arrived at Baker’s Dozen around eleven; chained his bike and its new tire to the lamppost outside; sat in a booth to read while casually watching Alessandro work. Alessandro didn’t seem to notice that Jaime was trying extra hard to act normal, which meant he wasn’t overdoing it. They went through the standard closing routine, and then they were walking the route back to the Deforio house, Jaime pulling his bike along.
They walked into Alessandro’s bedroom, and he was still chatting merrily about Shannon’s offer to let him come in early one morning and help with the baking so he could learn. Jaime stood by the room’s only window and waited, nodding along, happy for his boyfriend’s excitement over learning how to mix apple fritter batter.
Alessandro finally paused and looked at him—really looked at him. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Jaime replied, proud that his voice was steady. His insides were already getting squirrely now that the moment was here.
