SICARII: Part III

by Adrienne Wilder

  “That’s not true.”

  Jacob nodded. “Then why didn’t anyone care? Why didn’t anyone help me? Why did they leave me there? Why did they walk right past me? Young, old, none of them…none of them would help.” For so long, Jacob told himself it was that part of town, but he’d known. Deep down, he’d always known.

  He just hadn’t been worth anyone’s pity.

  Not even worth the seconds it would have taken to call 9-1-1.

  Rain slapped the brickwork. Shattering droplets collected in Jacob’s hair. Ben continued to pet him, his exhale warm against Jacob’s ear.

  His muscles loosened. His joints relaxed

  Ben continued to hold him.

  “I’ve never told anyone before.” Jacob inhaled a full breath, cooling the fever inside him. “I couldn’t.” And he still wasn’t sure why he could now. Why at this moment, he’d felt both safe and strong.

  The rain pelted Ben’s back. Each droplet cold enough to sting, yet the air remained warm.

  But nothing like the man in his arms.

  Jacob’s flesh burned under Ben’s hands—where their cheeks touched, where the length of their torso’s pressed together.

  Even layers of clothing couldn’t bank it back, and Ben welcomed it.

  “Thank you.” Jacob spoke with his lips close to Ben’s ear.

  “For what?”

  “Just being here.” Jacob pressed his face into Ben’s neck.

  Ben almost said he’d always be there, but he feared it would be a lie. At some point, he’d have to go back to his life, and Jacob would go back to…

  Marcel.

  Ben ground his jaw.

  Then the only time Ben would see Jacob was when Marcel summoned his presence. He doubted he’d have the opportunity to actually hold a conversation with Jacob, to be with him, to simply enjoy his presence.

  Both of them would be together for one purpose, to entertain a sick-in-the-head old man.

  A man who’d save Jacob when no one else would.

  Not a single person on the street found value in Jacob’s life, but a man who made his place in the world by taking life had.

  The truth stood in Ben’s arms, yet he didn’t want to believe it. Because then he’d have to admit he owed Marcel for saving Jacob. That the fucking world owed him.

  And that maybe, just maybe, there was a rhyme and reason behind the people he killed. Lives he took because they had no place and while managing to see how valuable Jacob was.

  A man who’d been a whore, a drug addict, a son, a brother, a boy, a young man, a human being who’d had life stolen from him due to circumstance.

  Because the family who should have loved him didn’t.

  Because the people in his world who should have cared failed.

  “I think the rain has stopped.” Shadows carved out highlights on Jacob’s face. “You still want to call a cab?”

  What Ben wanted was the heart of the man in front of him. He didn’t know why. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to.

  But it would never happen. Even if he let himself fall in love with Jacob. He’d already bestowed that gift to someone else. Whether or not Ben felt Marcel was worthy didn’t matter because clearly, Jacob did.

  At least Ben hadn’t lost that part of himself yet, and his heart would recover.

  The thing was, Ben wasn’t so sure he didn’t want the pain. Because the scars left behind meant he’d known what love felt like.

  If he didn’t bleed to death from the wounds.

  And if he did? It could only be worth it.

  Besides, could he really stop something like that from happening? Was he strong enough? Was anyone?

  “Ben?” Jacob stood straighter. “You okay.”

  No. His world was too messed up.

  Ben rested his cheek against Jacob’s temple and sighed close to his ear and counted his exhales.

  Points of warmth slid under Ben’s shirt, tracing his ribs, moving to his chest. He turned his head a little, and Jacob’s mint-flavored sigh ghosted Ben’s lips. Dark pools watched Ben. There was nothing to see but the glint of ambient light. Ben wanted to believe there was more.

  Jacob tipped his chin, brushing his lips close to his eye, again, close to his ear. The contact gained weight following the line of his jaw, reaching his mouth where the velvet changed places with hot and wet.

  Ben didn’t resist the intrusion of Jacob’s tongue in his mouth.

  At that moment, he had at least one answer to his list of questions.

  No, he wasn’t strong enough.

  Ben worked his mouth against Jacob’s, and a moan reached Ben’s ears. He wasn’t sure it was from him or Jacob. A hungry sound begging to be fed. Ben worked his hands under Jacob’s clothes, pushing his way between Jacob and the wall, tracing the muscles along his back, then following the dip of his spine to the globes of his ass. Ben ignored the scrape of brick over his knuckles and pulled Jacob closer. Jacob rocked against Ben, and tears smeared over Ben’s face.

  The reason for those tears made Ben freeze. Did Jacob really want this or had Ben somehow made him think he had no choice. That like all the other people in Jacob’s life, Ben was only there to use him.

  He knew he wasn’t, but did Jacob? And how did Ben ask a question like that?

  “Don’t stop.” Jacob nipped Ben’s bottom lip. “Touch me, please.”

  “I want to do more than that.” And again, did Jacob?

  As if he’d heard the question, Jacob undid the front of his jeans, loosening them enough for Ben to slip his hands down Jacob’s hips, taking his underwear low enough to free the man’s cock.

  Jacob arched against Ben, and he didn’t resist the urge to latch onto the soft place under Jacob’s jaw, sucking up a bruise. A tug and pull on the front of Ben’s jeans popped the button and parted the zipper. His boxers trapped his swollen cock.

  “Step back a little.” Jacob slid his fingers through the gap in Ben’s boxers, grazing the tips over the underside to the head. “Ben, step back.”

  His joints creaked with the effort. An eddy of cool air moved between them, following the elastic of Ben’s boxers as they were pushed lower, allowing their cocks to rub together. Heated flesh, the trail of precum, the sensitive head bumping the rigid length.

  Ben had no idea something so plain could feel so good. Then Jacob wrapped his long fingers around both of them and stroked.

  Ben groaned.

  “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

  “God, yes.”

  Jacob shuddered. “I don’t know how long I’m going to last. It’s been too long since I’ve done this. It has been so long since—” He sealed their mouths together, plundering Ben’s with a fierceness that didn’t match the gentleness he radiated.

  Jacob jerked his hips, and jets of cum smeared over Ben’s cock ignited a new wave of pleasure that shoved Ben toward the edge. The grip on his dick vanished so quick Ben shouted. Jacob raked his teeth down Ben’s neck drawing a sharp line that dulled beyond the neckline of his shirt, returning under his navel, exchanging places with Jacob’s tongue at the base of Ben’s cock to the tip where an inferno of pleasure engulfed the head until the entire length plunged down Jacob’s throat.

  Ben’s coat slid from his shoulders and mist coated his skin, dampening the crackling fever crawling down Ben’s legs.

  “Oh, God…” He heaved in breath after breath. “Jacob…Jacob.” Ben slid his fingers into Jacob’s hair, and he bobbed his head. Every so often, he’d pause at the head and probe his tongue against Ben’s slit. Each time, a new layer of bliss threatening to crawl inside, then disappearing, giving way to suction.

  Ben’s knees tried to fold, and he abandoned his hold on Jacob in favor of bracing himself against the wall.

  “Oh, fuck, fuck…” Ben’s balls pulled tight, and again, he was there at the edge. A vice grip around the base of his cock threw up a barrier Ben hit full force. His lungs seized up, and for several seconds his body didn’t seem to know what to do. There was only
the exponential rise, an earthquake vibrating his bones, and strike of lightning tearing him in half. A feral panic blazed through Ben, obliterating anything human, whittling him down to a desperate rabid animal.

  And just as Ben thought he’d lose his mind, the vise around the base of his dick let go.

  Euphoria crushed Ben and ecstasy finished what the insanity started, leaving him shredded.

  “Hey.”

  The man in front of Ben smiled, but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember his name. He couldn’t remember where he was, at least until the tide of pleasure withdrew.

  “What the hell was that?” Ben didn’t mean to sound angry, but damn it, he was. Not because Jacob had done it, but because he knew he’d never be able to deliver.

  “I take that means you liked it?” Jacob nipped Ben’s bottom lip.

  “I think I saw God.”

  Jacob laughed, and Ben tried, but he didn’t have the energy.

  And he didn’t care.

  “I’m not sure how much longer I can stand.” Ben leaned against Jacob.

  “I’m guessing that means I’ll have to call a cab.”

  And find a wheelchair to get Ben to the door.

  8

  For the third morning in a row, Jacob woke up to Ben spooned against his back. Ever since that night in the rain, they’d fallen asleep in the same bed, exhausted, but content.

  Not because of sex.

  Ben hadn’t so much as tried to kiss Jacob since that night unless Jacob offered or made it clear it was welcomed.

  No, they’d slept after hours of talking, holding each other, touching, but never beyond the rise of comfort.

  As many times as Jacob had had sex, he’d never just slept beside someone. He’d never talked until his words slurred. Until inhibitions fell away. Until all the bad things in a man’s life faded enough to be ignored.

  He’d never had anyone satisfied with just his presence.

  He’d never known how sharing the soul could be more pleasurable than flesh. Jacob was sure if he told Ben he never wanted sex again, the man would oblige him without complaint.

  Who would do that?

  Who would want to do that?

  And what would make a person so willing even if they craved it?

  Jacob knew people who were asexual, fulfilled by the company of another, even touching, kissing, but never to the point of sex. He’d always wondered how it could be enough.

  Now he had a small grain of understanding.

  But these moments didn’t explain why Jacob had lost track of the hours without the well of anxiety opening up.

  Without Marcel to take it away.

  As long as Jacob didn’t think about it, even the guilt of not missing the man left him alone.

  And that was what frightened Jacob the most. The hollowness now surrounding thoughts of the person who’d saved him.

  Jacob’s cell phone rang. His mother used to warn him, thinking about the devil would summon him.

  Streaks of cold raced down his limbs. Ben stirred beside him. The phone continued to ring. Jacob had to force himself to answer it.

  “Tonight. Eight o’clock.” Marcel’s powerful voice cinched around Jacob’s chest. “Bring Ben with you. Make sure you are groomed, slick, and you will not fuck each other until I say.” The phone went silent, and the screen winked out. Jacob laid it back on the table.

  “He’s back.” Ben pushed up on an elbow.

  “Yeah.” And where was the anticipation Jacob should feel?

  “When?” Because Ben didn’t need to be told what Marcel wanted

  Jacob swallowed several times. “He wants us there at eight o’clock tonight.”

  Tension creased the corners of Ben’s eyes.

  “I’m sorry.” Jacob was.

  “What? Why?”

  “Because…because I know you don’t want to be there.”

  “And you don’t sound like you want to be there either.”

  The truth of those words struck Jacob right in the heart. “I don’t.”

  Ben sat up a little more.

  Jacob shook his head. “I don’t. I don’t want to be there. I don’t want him to be there.”

  Because Marcel offered the coldness of stone where Ben cradled Jacob in warmth.

  But the scar on Jacob’s hand, the scar on Ben’s hand, meant they didn’t have a choice. Something Jacob was used to.

  But Ben wasn’t.

  Already retaliation burned in his eyes.

  Would disappointment in Jacob be next? Would Ben ever look at him like he had these past few days? Like that night at the arcade, in the alcove shielding him from the storm?

  Worshiping Jacob’s mouth, despite knowing his deepest secret.

  Willing to touch him after Jacob laid out his shame for judgment.

  Grateful enough that he’d taken Jacob’s company over pleasure without complaint.

  Ben smiled and pushed back a wayward lock of hair from Jacob’s eyes with all the gentleness of butterfly wings.

  After tonight would he ever look at Jacob that way again? Touch him again?

  Jacob clenched his jaw.

  Or had Marcel taken it all away with just a few words?

  Jacob tightened his hands into fists.

  Would Jacob let him take it away?

  Jacob turned, shoving Ben onto his back, slamming their mouths together hard enough to make their teeth scrape.

  Ben moaned, and Jacob pulled back enough to yank off his shirt. He pushed up the hem on Ben’s, and with a little help, it was gone.

  Jacob fell over him again, their bodies sliding together, the caress of flesh teasing Jacob’s nipples. Ben’s cock climbed over the waistband of his boxers, and Jacob yanked them down, exposing his balls. He rolled the heavy sacs in his hand, and Ben lifted his hips, pushing his underwear lower. Somehow they coordinated enough to strip the rest of the way down, Jacob’s briefs a momentary knot of material in Ben’s hand before it was on the floor, with the pillows, the sheets.

  “I want you.” Jacob breathed the words against Ben’s ear. “I want you because I want you.”

  Ben’s breath hitched, and he turned his head enough to meet Jacob’s gaze. Did the desperation show in his eyes? Did the fear of what would happen if Jacob disobeyed?

  It would be worse than being edged and denied. Worse than any physical pain. Because Jacob was sure doing this would be a betrayal of Marcel’s trust.

  It would break the vow he’d made.

  Ben combed his fingers through Jacob’s hair. “Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

  Jacob closed his eyes, concentrating on the sensation of Ben’s touch gliding down his cheek, his neck, his ribs. When he looked at Ben again, the awe was still there.

  Jacob descended, claiming Ben’s mouth, and he arched off the bed, gripping Jacob’s ass, grinding their bodies together. Jacob licked a line to Ben’s neck and latched onto Ben’s ear lobe.

  “Jacob…” His name was barely an exhale.

  Jacob opened the drawer of the bedside table. A pen, a note pad, the pages caught his fingernails. Smooth plastic pressed against his palm. The bottle of lubricant Jacob kept there was almost full. He took it out.

  Ben tracked Jacob’s hand with his eyes.

  The snick of the cap somehow too loud.

  Jacob sat up on his knees.

  “Where do you want me?” Ben said.

  “Right there.”

  Ben started to draw up his legs.

  “No, just lie there.”

  “How…” Ben chewed his bottom lip.

  “I’m going to ride you.” Jacob covered his fingers in glistening oil.

  A flush darkened Ben’s face.

  “Is that okay?”

  “God, yes.”

  Jacob set the bottle aside. “Stay, all right?” Jacob gave Ben his back, moving his weight to one leg so he could watch Ben over his shoulder. Jacob reached back and pushed two fingers in his ass. The quick entry made him gasp but not as loud as Ben.
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  Jacob thrust, going as deep as the position would allow. Ben parted his lips, panting. His gentle touch turned into a firm grip on Jacob’s ass. He pushed apart Jacob’s cheeks.

  “That’s got to be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” Ben moved like he wanted to get closer but stayed on his back. “I want to…” He put a hand over Jacob’s. “Can I…” Ben clenched his eyes shut for a moment like the request hurt. “Can I do that to you?”

  “Yeah.”

  Ben picked up the bottle of lubricant. His hand shook under the line of glistening fluid.

  “Nervous?” Jacob rocked back, putting himself in easy reach.

  “With you? Always.” He left the bottle in the folds of the sheets and rubbed his fingertips over Jacob’s opening.

  “Why?”

  “Because I want it to be good for you, and I don’t exactly know what I’m doing.” Ben pushed, and Jacob sucked in a breath.

  Not from discomfort, but because of how good it felt. How right it felt. Ben thrust and Jacob met each movement.

  “Tell me what to do, Jacob. What feels good.”

  The fact he even cared had Jacob trembling. “Another finger, then curl them. Not too much, but enough to rub the inside; you’ll feel a lump, about an inch big—” A shock of pleasure ripped a cry from Jacob’s lips.

  “I take it that’s the spot?”

  “Y-Yesss.” Another surge had Jacob twisting his hips. “Again. Don’t stop. Till I say.”

  Ben obeyed, and Jacob let his weight increase the pressure. The crash of pleasure became sleeting rain. Ice under his skin. Fire gripping his cock. Jacob rubbed the head of his dick with his thumb, using his nail to pinch the slit. Precum slicked his fingers with the threat of release.