by Ana Ashley
He nodded against my neck as he found my sensitive spot under my ear and sucked on it.
My fingers moved quickly to unbutton both our jeans. He let out the most perfect, wanton moan when I wrapped my hand around his shaft and gave it a few strokes. I knew neither of us would last long from the amount of pre-cum leaking from both our cocks.
I pulled my jeans down a little so I could line up our cocks, and then I wrapped my hand around both. With Fernando near enough glued to me, there wasn't enough room to move my hand to stroke us.
I thought he'd sit back to allow me to jerk us off, but instead he started moving his hips and fucking my hand with abandon.
All I could do was grip us tighter and feel as his cock slid along mine, helped by the pre-cum leaking from my cock. Fernando's movements became a little less refined and jerkier, so I knew he was getting close. I put one arm around his waist and tried my best to raise my hips and match him.
"Fernando," I cried as I felt my balls tighten, and all the pent-up energy rise up my spine before I spilled onto my hand. Another few strokes and he joined me in the most beautiful orgasm I'd ever witnessed.
We were both breathless, and like a pile of soft noodles, and I had no desire to make him move. My hand was still wrapped around our softening cocks, and my arm around his waist.
"Fuck, I've wanted this since the day we met," I confessed.
"What? Really?" he said, pulling back as if to check I was telling the truth.
"Hell, yeah," I said kissing him again. God, I'd stay like this forever if I could.
"But you're… but I'm…"
"I'm what, baby? Insanely attracted to you? You're what, ridiculously stunning? All those things are true."
"I'm forty-two and I've barely dated. I come from a small town in the back of nowhere in Portugal. I'm not sophisticated or world savvy—"
I stopped his self-deprecating comments with another kiss until he was moaning against my mouth again.
"Fernando, you're the breath of fresh air I didn't know I needed until I realized how much time I'd spent in the smog of the city. You moved your whole life to be here for your nephew. If I knew nothing else about you, that would be enough to tell me all I need to know."
"But you're from New York, you could have anyone," he said. I hated the doubt in his voice.
"And still here I am, at forty, single and finding myself in the arms of the only person I've wanted in years."
His eyes softened, and his smile relaxed. Since I still had one hand between us, and full of cum, I put the other on the back of his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.
"How about we take a shower and then order dinner?" I asked.
"You don't need to ask twice," he said.
Hopefully, his answer would be the same when I asked him to stay the rest of the weekend.
"Micah," he said as we stood up from the couch. "I'd like to take you on a date."
I smiled wide and kissed him again. "You don't need to ask twice."
Love Again
Finding You Book 3
1
Vítor
The scent coming from the oven told me dinner was nearly ready—roast pork marinated with my secret mix of herbs, accompanied by roast potatoes and salad. This was the Sunday meal I'd had for as long as I could remember.
As a kid, I remembered coming home from Sunday mass with my brother Mário and smelling it all the way down the street.
The first stop was the bathroom to wash our hands before sitting at the dining room table where my father and the neighbors would be waiting for us to get home from church.
I don't remember having a Sunday meal with just the four of us from my earliest memory until the day I left home.
After that, Sunday meals were very different. After an initial period of rebellion where I refused to have any kind of formal meal on Sunday, my upbringing had a stronger influence than I wanted to admit, and I craved the companionship of others on that one meal a week.
It had started with getting some college friends together on Sundays, and we'd each bring something to share. They'd realized very quickly that not only did I cook well, but I also enjoyed it, so they started helping with the grocery shopping as long as I did the cooking, which I was more than happy to do.
It was a tradition that had carried on throughout the years, even when money was no object to those of us who still remained in touch after college. They still insisted on paying for the food, but it was more a symbolic gesture than anything else. In the last three years, I’d started donating the money they’d give to a cancer research charity.
I put a hand on my chest, thinking of the man who came into my life a long time ago and who was taken away too soon because of cancer. We'd thought we'd have a lifetime together.
In some ways, we had. We'd traveled, built a home, raised a child, and loved each other with all we had. But it wasn't enough, and three years after his death, I was still waiting for him to walk through the door complaining that a client wanted him to design a boring house and couldn't see his vision and then how he could design the house of their dreams if only they listened.
A laugh escaped my lips at the thought. He'd always loved the Sunday lunches, and when we'd been away on vacation, he'd always found a way to make up for the lost meals.
The oven timer dinged, bringing me back to the present. I'd come into the bedroom to pick up a shirt after my shower, and hadn't realized that I'd ended up looking through Rodrigo's side of the wardrobe instead.
Maybe that was what brought the memories on. Not that I didn't normally think about him. He was a constant presence in my mind, but the sight of his shirts all lined up and color coordinated was a reminder that I needed to do something with them.
I'd had no problem giving away his suits and other clothes, but there was something about his shirts. Maybe it was because they were the last things left that were truly his.
We were different sizes, so I would never be able to wear them myself. Rodrigo had been taller and bigger than me. I didn't quite have the presence he'd had when he'd walked into a room wearing a tailored shirt with the sleeves rolled up to show his strong forearms.
"I miss you so much, Dri," I said as I closed the wardrobe door to go and check on the food. Today was a smaller dinner than usual.
Luís was the only one of our friends who wasn't an architect, which was why on the weekend of the biggest industry conference, he insisted on coming over for Sunday lunch when he found out I wasn't attending again.
The doorbell rang right on time.
"Hey, sweets, how are you doing?" Luís asked before enveloping me in one of his big bear hugs. I allowed myself to melt into it before I answered.
"I'm okay."
I’d met Luís on the same night I'd met Rodrigo at a student party. I'd been talking to Luís and had thought he was cute, but Rodrigo stole my heart from the first moment our eyes met. When Dri had stolen me away at the party, I'd thought I'd never see Luís again, but when we'd bumped into each other at the university campus a few days later, we went out for coffee and ended up becoming good friends.
"Are you really okay?" He put a hand on my chin to tilt my head up so I could look him in the eye.
"I was going through Dri's shirts earlier and it brought back some memories. Hey, I don't suppose you want his shirts? You're the same size." Despite asking the question, I was relieved when Luís said he didn't feel right taking them, and besides, he didn't have any use for them since he was an artist and spent more time covered in paint than in nice clothes.
"So, where's this dinner then? I haven’t eaten since breakfast in anticipation. And since the others aren't here, I expect a mega-sized portion," Luís said, patting his flat stomach.
I smiled and guided him to the kitchen.
This house was Rodrigo's indulgence. When he'd asked me to marry him, even before it was legal for two men to marry in Portugal, he'd promised he'd design the best house in the country. I never needed anything so large,
but the kitchen was the one part of the house I was grateful I'd allowed him to indulge in the design.
The food was perfect as always. Then again, after cooking this meal most Sundays for nearly thirty years, I could almost do it blindfolded.
We ate mostly in silence, which was welcome because I was feeling out of sorts. I also wondered what was in Luís' mind. In the nearly thirty years I'd known him, I'd never seen him go longer than a few minutes without talking. Even when we were younger, he'd always been the one who would bring someone into the conversation by asking the right questions and making them feel like they were the only person in the room.
That was how he'd got me talking that night in the bar until a single look from Rodrigo had made me feel like he and I were the only people on the planet.
The thought made me shiver. Luís looked at me but didn't say anything.
Since it was just the two of us, I hadn't bothered making dessert, but I had made an effort to get Luís' favorite pastries.
"Have I ever told you how much I love you?" Luís said before stealing one of the mini palmiers that had been partially dipped in chocolate with a sprinkle of coconut.
"Several times."
We took our coffees and a plate with the tiny pastries and sat in the living room facing the garden.
"What's going on?" Luís asked before I had a chance to take a sip from my coffee.
"What do you mean?"
"Something's not right."
I took a deep breath and let out a sigh. What could I tell him? That I felt like part of me had died with my husband and the other part was slowly dying because my son wouldn't talk to me? That I hated going to work because the desk next to mine was empty? Was three years too long to still be missing him? Or not long enough?
"Talk to me, sweets," Luís said, putting his hand on my cheek and rubbing his thumb gently over my skin. I always loved how tactile Luís was, almost as if touching people was part of his language.
"I don't know what to say. I feel lost without Dri and Mateus won't talk to me. I don't know how to handle it all on my own."
"Do I need to go kick Mateus' ass?"
"No, he's not the one to blame. I'm hurt and angry because Dri should have told us the truth about Mateus' mom. He should have trusted me." I got up and walked to the patio doors.
"Do you think he didn't trust you?"
"I don't know. All I know is that he's gone, Mateus won't speak to me, and this house is suddenly feeling too big."
"Maybe you need a fresh start somewhere else."
I looked out to the garden where the fairy lights were now lighting up a few trees, giving the garden a magical feel. We'd spent so many summer nights under those lights, waiting for Mateus to fall asleep before we took a precious moment to ourselves and made out like teenagers under the stars.
"I'm too old and cranky for that."
"Sweets, you are most definitely cranky," he said, coming over and giving me a playful punch to the stomach, "but not too old."
I considered his words, but at nearly fifty years old, the thought of starting from scratch somewhere else filled me with dread. Besides, I wasn't sure I could leave this house despite the growing loneliness. This house was Dri's dream; he was in every wall, every detail. I could only ever leave if Mateus decided he wanted to raise his family here, which didn't seem likely considering none of his girlfriends ever lasted very long.
"Vítor, you can't leave your life on standby for Mateus. Try to reach out and rebuild your relationship, but don't let that stop you from living. You are too young to give life up."
Luís was far too perceptive for his own good.
"Thanks, Lulu. And how about you? You've been quieter than normal. Is everything okay with you?"
"Yeah." He sighed and then chuckled. "No change. Maybe one day I'll be able to take my own advice."
I loved Luís but always struggled with his choice to stay in the closet for the sake of his parents.
"Why do you do it, Lulu?"
"You know why. They gave everything up for me. I was the child they never thought they'd have. From the moment I was born, they worked to give me everything they could. I know they are too conservative and their beliefs on homosexuality are wrong, but I respect them too much to hurt them. Besides, you know I'm not a relationship kind of guy, so what's the point of rocking the boat?"
"I get it, but are you in the closet because you're not a relationship guy, or are you not a relationship guy because you're in the closet?"
He tapped his nose and smiled, but there was sadness in his eyes that even he couldn't disguise.
After Luís left, I settled in my office. I turned my computer on to look at my schedule for the week, but my mind was still going through the conversation we'd had earlier.
Despite Luís' earlier encouragement to make a change, I didn't want to admit that I'd been getting calls from an architect partnership in Lisbon for close to a year now.
Even though I was reluctant to admit it, I couldn't deny that lately I found myself more and more tempted to go down to Lisbon and meet with the partners.
I just wasn't sure I could ever go back to Lisbon after making a life for myself in Porto. That city had too many bad memories for me, and while they were in the past, I couldn't deny the sliver of fear I felt every time I thought about the events that happened on my twenty-first birthday and the last time I was there.
Then there was Mateus. Even though he wasn't talking to me, he still lived and worked in Porto. Would my leaving the city be the last nail in the coffin of my relationship with my son?
After doing some work I decided to send Mateus an email. He wasn't responding to my calls or text messages, so maybe he would read an email. I could only hope.
From:ví[email protected]
To:[email protected]
Subject: Your papa was an ass
Hey son,
I hope this email finds you well. You haven't replied to any of my texts, and my calls have all gone unanswered.
Mateus, I can't begin to imagine how much you're hurting right now, but I need you to know that, just like you, I didn't know.
I never thought there were any secrets between your papa and I. Yes, there were little things, which I'm sure weren't secret at all, but I never thought there would be something this big.
You became my son the day Dri introduced you to me, and I've loved you ever since. Please don't let this get in the way of our relationship.
I already lost my husband. Please don't make it so I've lost my son, too. It's more than my heart can bear.
With all my love,
Dad V
2
Tiago
"Hey, mate, are you calling to say you're finally going to take on the running of the center?"
The hopeful voice of my best friend, Isaac, was almost enough to break my resolve.
"I already run the center." I chuckled.
"My point precisely, and that's why I want your name on the foundation letterhead."
I sighed. "You know I can't do it."
We'd had this conversation many times. I'd met Isaac at university when he'd started a student network to provide support and a safe place for LGBTQ students to talk and access support services.
When he'd graduated, Isaac was able to secure some key funding to open Lisbon's first youth-dedicated LGBTQ center, Fundação Arco-Íris. Despite being three years older, I'd taken a break in my studies, so I'd joined Isaac as soon as I'd graduated a year later. It was a partnership that worked well for us. We ran the foundation together, but he was the name and the face behind it all, while I looked after the daily running of the center.
It was as much as I could offer. There was no question about my commitment to it, which was the reason Isaac had been pushing for me to take over running the entire center since he now lived in Manhattan with his husband, Max.
Isaac knew why I didn't want to take on any more responsibility. For the last nine years, any time I'd not been at
college or working, I'd been looking for my missing younger brother, Afonso.
"Tiago?" Isaac called from the other end of the line.
"I'll think about it, okay?"
"Okay," he said with a mix of hope and resignation. "Was there anything in particular you were calling for?"
"Yes. Is your apartment still on the market?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Would you mind if I rent it for the next two months? My landlord is finally going to do some work to my place, and I need somewhere to stay. I'll pay you, of course."
"Don't be silly. You don't need to pay. I'll tell the agency to take the apartment off the rentals list until you don't need it anymore."
"Thanks, Isaac. I really appreciate that. How's Max?"
"He's starting school for his specialization in pediatric nursing, so he's a bit stressed, but nothing we can't handle."
I couldn't help being a little envious of Isaac and the relationship he had with Max. In another lifetime, I'd have loved to have been in a committed relationship with someone I could share my life with, the challenges and the victories.
Unfortunately, my experience was that my burden was too much for guys to handle, and after a string of failed attempts at dating, I'd decided to stop trying. Waking up to someone whose first smile of the day was for me was, at the moment, just a pipe dream.
"You're happy in New York, right?" I asked before I realized how the question might sound.
"Of course, why do you ask?"
"Never mind, sorry, I don't know why I asked."
I heard a shuffle on the other side of the line before Isaac said, "I gotta go. Lucy's home from school, but we'll speak again soon."
"Okay, thanks again for letting me stay at the apartment."
"Sure, no problem. There's a spare key in the office safe at the center. Bye, Tiago."
"Bye, Isaac."
It was a relief knowing I had a temporary place to live, and if Isaac didn't want me to pay rent, I could save some money to use toward the search for my brother.
