by Elle Keaton
A gorgeous hunk of man stood there with a goofy grin on his face. “I don’t know if you remember me. Buck Swanfeldt; we went to Franklin together.”
Joey felt a cheesy grin spread across his face. “Yeah?” He looked Buck up and down. “I don’t think I would have missed you.”
“You were a few years ahead of me. You know how it is, upperclassmen never see the minions. Plus,” Buck smirked, gesturing toward himself, “I’ve grown a little.”
After weeks of only a few texts, weeks of Joey being patient and trying so hard to believe that Buck had meant what he said, that he needed time, here Buck was, in the flesh, flirting with him in the seasonal-candy section of Hardwick’s Grocery.
“So, I was wondering—”
“Yes!”
Buck chuckled. “Don’t you want to hear what I’ve practiced? I wrote it down and everything.”
Very carefully, Joey placed the small basket he had been tossing random groceries into on the floor, pushing it out of the way with one foot. He crooked his finger at Buck, motioning him to come closer. Buck blushed but shuffled forward. When he was close enough, Joey hooked a finger through his belt loop and tugged him until they were almost pressed together. Joey stood up onto his toes. “Yes,” he whispered into Buck’s ear.
“Are you free this evening?”
For reasons beyond him, Joey suddenly felt shy. Maybe it was because this amazing man in front of him, the one he was practically climbing in public, was being so sweet and genuine. Treating Joey like something special.
“Well, I was going to go home and heat up leftovers. Maybe binge on chocolate.” He motioned to the shelves brimming with every kind of chocolate imaginable. “But if you have a better offer?”
“Miguel is taking Sara out to dinner.” Buck waggled his eyebrows and smiled broader. Buck had the most amazing smile lines; Joey had missed them so much.
“Your place it is!”
Buck grinned again and took Joey’s hand in his large, warm grip. “Do you actually need anything in that basket?”
“You’re still driving your mom’s car?” Buck asked him. A gorgeous black Mustang was parked in the spot next to Joey’s. He had no doubt whose car that was.
“Well, I was waiting for this hot mechanic I know to help me find a new set of wheels.”
By mutual agreement Buck followed Joey to his mom’s house to drop off the car.
“We can’t go in; Kon will go crazy, and I get first dibs,” Joey stated firmly. He was not going to listen to any argument on this point. Kon asked about Buck every day; if he saw him they would never escape. In the weeks he had been at Maureen’s, Kon had proven himself to be a voracious learner. His English, while not perfect by any means, was expanding every day. He wasn’t looking forward to explaining where Kon had picked up “fuck.” Joey could swear he had never said it in front of him. It was amazing how kids’ minds worked. If Joey were plopped down in a country where he didn’t speak the language . . . well, hand signals only go so far.
Xena refused to leave Kon’s side. When Kon went for interviews with the investigating team or the child psychologist Maureen had found for him, she had to be locked in his room. Twice she had managed to escape the back porch, bolting outside to chase after the car.
Staying there made sense for Joey, mostly. It had felt right. It was a little weird coming home at twenty-eight, but as Joey rolled the idea around in his head, he came to realize that he needed to quit judging his life by other people’s standards. Maybe Joey had needed time, too; his life had been going full tilt.
He did miss the privacy his own apartment had allowed, but he loved having people, family, to come home to. It had made it easier for him to give Buck the time he asked for; Kon kept both Joey and his mother busy. With that thought, he quickly sent a text to his mom letting her know the car was out front and that, hopefully, he would be late. Or, with any luck at all, not home until morning.
A second onset of nerves nearly undid Joey as they arrived at Buck’s house. Though he was normally one to instigate just about anything, his heart was pounding with apprehension. Lost in his own headspace, he started when Buck opened the passenger door for him.
“Welcome to my humble abode.” Buck took his hand again, tugging him toward the front door.
By the time they got inside, Joey’s nerves had ramped up even further. The fear of messing this up, whatever it was, rendered him tongue-tied. He was certain if he tried to speak the words that came out would make no sense at all. He had been so patient; what if he messed up now?
“Hey, are you okay? You’re awfully quiet.” Sincere blue eyes held his own, a little flicker of worry arcing through them. “Do you want to do this?”
“Oh my god, yes! I’m nervous; I don’t want to mess up,” Joey blurted out, much to his embarrassment.
“Is there, uh, something I can do to make you feel less nervous?” Buck was grinning. Asshole.
Joey’s shoulders bumped against the entryway wall. Buck crowded him with his big body. Taking Joey’s face in his large palms, he leaned down to brush his lips against Joey’s. Maybe he had intended it to be a brief buss, maybe not, but after going dry for weeks Joey felt like a man walking out of the desert. Pushing back, he deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue across Buck’s lips.
The heat of Buck’s mouth against his tongue; the warmth of his hands, one of which had left his cheek to slide down his back and rest at the top of his ass—Joey was on fire from his touch.
“I was going to cook you dinner,” Buck murmured against his lips.
“You can, after.” No way were they putting the brakes on now. No matter how nice a dinner it might be, Joey wouldn’t be able to taste it, would only be able to think about the taste, texture, feel of Buck under his hands, in his mouth, on his body.
There was zero finesse. A tangled trail of clothing led from the front door to Buck’s room, and a few buttons may have been lost along the way.
“You sure Miguel isn’t coming home?” Joey panted, struggling with the snap of Buck’s jeans. Needing to feel skin on skin.
“Yeah, no, out,” Buck breathed before nipping, then licking, Joey’s earlobe.
Pulling away, because otherwise he was going to come, and wouldn’t that put a damper on things, Joey stripped off his boxers and crawled onto the bed. He twisted around onto his back and stroked himself while he watched Buck get his socks off. Buck stood shyly at the side of the bed, allowing Joey to take him in. To look. Joey had to stop stroking himself and instead clutch the base of his cock, he was so close. Precome was dribbling out of his slit, creating a little pool on his stomach.
Buck put one knee on the bed and reached out toward Joey. “Can I taste?”
Like he was going to say no? Joey couldn’t form words, though, so he just nodded his encouragement. Buck swiped his thumb across the tip of Joey’s cock and licked the moisture off with the tip of his tongue. “Mmmmm.”
Finally, Buck crawled all the way onto the bed and lay gently over Joey.
“Am I squishing you?” He sounded worried.
“Oh my god, no.”
Joey loved the weight of a man, Buck, pressing him into the mattress; the heat of Buck’s skin against his own. Buck took his mouth with a ravenous kiss, eating him, sucking his tongue into his own mouth. Joey’s hands wandered down Buck’s muscled back, learning his skin, his gorgeous ass. He squeezed and was rewarded with Buck’s hips and heavy cock grinding into his thigh. A muffled groan.
Buck stopped kissing him and put his head on Joey’s shoulder, his breathing ragged. “Don’t stop,” he said, continuing to push his ass against Joey’s hands.
“Turn over,” Joey ordered.
Joey watched his lover closely for signs this wasn’t what he wanted, but the only signal he was getting was Gogogogo, don’t stop.
Repositioning himself atop Buck like a blanket, he pushed Buck’s arms above his head and whispered into his ear, “Tell me I’m not reading this wrong—you want me to fuck
you?” Buck nodded, groaning, and Joey felt Buck’s cock twitch against him in anticipation.
Most guys assumed Joey only wanted to bottom. What a turn-on, this big man making himself vulnerable for Joey.
“Supplies?”
Buck blushed, pointing his chin toward the nightstand. Purposefully rubbing his hips and raging erection against Buck while he leaned over to grab condoms and lube, Joey was taken by surprise when Buck grabbed his hips, dragging him forward so Buck could suck Joey’s cock into his mouth.
“Oh, fuck, oh fuck, fuck.” The hot, wet pull of Buck’s mouth, his tongue, was almost overwhelming. Almost. He eased himself out of Buck’s mouth. “Have you done this before? bottomed?” Joey had to ask.
Another, deeper blush. He felt Buck’s insistent erection fade a little. Buck shook his head.
“Topped?”
Icy blue eyes glared at him, and Joey grinned back like a maniac. “Okay.” He laughed. “Roll back over and pull your legs up.” Buck rolled over so fast he almost tossed Joey onto the floor. Joey chuckled at his enthusiasm. Because wow, once he got into that gorgeous ass he wasn’t going to last long.
Quickly slicking his fingers up, as well as pouring a generous amount onto Buck’s ass, Joey went to work. As much as he wanted to just put the condom on and go, he needed to take his time. He caressed and stroked Buck’s hole, listening to the grunts and groans forced out of him, loving the feel of the muscles bunching and relaxing under Joey’s ministrations. Reaching between Buck’s legs, he stroked Buck’s erection while gently pushing a finger inside him.
“More,” Buck ground out. “More, harder, more.”
Joey complied, lost in a haze of slick sounds, scent, heat, responsive man. Fuck. Joey pulled back and rolled on the condom. Praying he didn’t come the moment he was inside Buck, he began to push his erection against the ring of muscle. “Push back against me.”
His titanium-hard erection popped past Buck’s entrance. Fuck, fuck, fuck. It had been way too long since Joey had done this. Too many lovers, boyfriends, hookups assumed because he was small he only wanted to have his ass pummeled. Nothing could be further from the truth. Joey loved fucking as much as he loved being fucked. The fact that it was a guy who could snap him in half with a thought making undecipherable groans of pleasure under him only intensified the experience.
Slowly, inexorably, he pushed forward until he was fully seated against Buck’s ass. He made himself stop, and then, when he felt Buck relax a little around his cock, he began to move gently and deliberately, searching for the sweet spot. He’d know when he found it.
Buck jerked, slamming himself back onto Joey, gibberish flowing from his mouth. Ah, yes.
“Touch yourself.” Joey couldn’t hold back a moment longer. He had waited so long, so patiently. Electricity slid up and back down his spine, sparking lightning flashes of tension in his balls and along the underside of his cock. Fuck, fuck, fuck. His rhythm went to shit, his hips raggedly pounding against Buck’s beautiful ass, and he was vaguely aware of Buck shouting and arching under him as Joey emptied himself into the condom. He came so hard he finally understood why they called it the “little death.”
Several lifetimes later, Joey came back to himself. He pulled out gently, removing and tying off the condom before tossing it aside and snuggling back against Buck. Buck had to be covered in drying come but didn’t seem inclined to move. Joey pulled what he could of the comforter over the two of them.
“That was incredible,” Buck mumbled.
Joey’s stomach rumbled. They burst into giggles and Buck rolled away, disturbing their blanket cocoon.
“I did promise you dinner. Come on, let’s grab a shower.”
“Together?” Joey squeaked. “I don’t know if I can handle that much. If we get in your shower together, I can’t be held responsible for my actions.”
Buck laughed and grabbed his hand, tugging him to the edge of the bed. Joey couldn’t even pretend to struggle.
“Is shower sex overrated? I think we should experiment,” he whispered into Joey’s ear. Oh.
No, shower sex wasn’t overrated. It shouldn’t have taken thirty minutes to test, but they’d had to figure out how to fit the both of them into Buck’s tiny shower stall.
“I was going to start working on the upstairs, but I think a new bathroom just moved to the top of the list,” Buck said as he toweled himself off.
The kitchen was as beautiful as Joey remembered. If it weren’t pitch black outside they would be able to see what looked like a large backyard. Buck hummed while he dug around in the stainless-steel refrigerator for ingredients. Joey ogled his ass, gorgeous under a pair of worn sweats. Buck wouldn’t tell Joey what he was making except to ask if he was allergic to anything, and did he mind garlic?
“Where did you learn to cook?” Joey couldn’t cook his way out of a paper bag.
“Self-taught. I watch a lot of cooking shows,” Buck replied, deftly slicing chicken and veggies before tossing them together with some sort of sauce. Soon the aroma of garlic sizzling along with chicken and peppers filled the kitchen. Buck opened a cabinet and pulled a couple of plates down, placing them on the counter.
Instead of setting up the plates opposite each other, Buck set them side by side and scooted into the little nook next to Joey. They ate in companionable silence. Buck had a 1970s classic-rock station playing in the background while their forks clinked against the plates. Sex made Joey hungry. Sex twice in a few hours—he was starving. Buck must have been hungry, too; they both finished in about ten minutes. Buck pushed his plate away and turned to him.
“I feel like I owe you an explanation.” Joey opened his mouth, but Buck stopped him, covering Joey’s hand with his own. “Let me, please.”
“Okay.” He tucked himself into Buck’s side. Buck smiled down at him, his ice-blue eyes kind, warmer than the sun.
“I’m not going to bore you with the whole thing.” He paused, taking a deep breath. Joey squeezed his thigh, encouraging him to speak. “Like I told you before, the fight with Andriy freaked me out. It put me somewhere I never want to go back to. My family life wasn’t good growing up. My dad was a bully, both with words and his fists. My mother was a ghost, a shadow. After he died, she packed up the few things she wanted and moved away, as far as she could get.”
Buck twisted around, and after some fancy contortionist moves he slid back to lean into the corner of the nook nearest the window, tugging Joey onto his lap. “After the fight I got all twisted up and worried that I would hurt you. I could hurt you. I’m a big guy. My dad was big like I am. I’ve never, ever been angry like that before. I snapped and basically went berserk. When I came to my senses I knew I needed to talk to someone, because I want to be with you, Joey, if you still want me, but I needed to sort out my attic first. I don’t ever want to hurt you.”
“You would never hurt me. I trust you. I trusted you from the very beginning. Yes, in case you didn’t hear me at Hardwick’s. The answer is yes.”
Buck’s arms tightened around him. Joey felt as safe as he ever had. Even if they hadn’t said the words to each other yet, he knew he was loved.
Forty
When Buck woke up the next morning he felt lighter than he had in years, maybe ever. Fascinated, he watched the sleeping man in his bed, a man who was both spider monkey and bed hog. How a smaller person like Joey managed to claim ninety percent of the bed, Buck wasn’t sure. Joey slept on his stomach with one arm tucked under him and the other splayed out, his hand just touching Buck. As if reassuring himself Buck was still there.
He was starting to wonder if he should slip out of bed and start coffee when Joey turned, rolling into him, snuggling against his chest. Much like that mean green children’s-book character, he felt his heart thump harder at Joey’s unconscious trust. Emotions he couldn’t name swelled, threatening to overwhelm him. His vision grew a little blurry, and before he knew it a traitorous tear had worked its way out. He took a deep breath, trying to get himself un
der control.
“Hey?” Intelligent hazel eyes peered up at him through thick lashes.
Nodding, because if he spoke he would cry harder, Buck tightened his grip on Joey.
Seeming to understand his inability to speak, Joey smiled up at him. “You know I’m not going anywhere, right?”
Buck nodded again. “I know,” he whispered. “I . . .” another deep breath, “I’m happy for the first time in a long time and I got a little scared. I am a little scared.”
“It’s okay to be scared. I am, too. What if you can’t stand my bad habits or decide I’m too drama-prone? My previous boyfriends have—”
“Nope.” Buck smiled at Joey again. “Nothing about previous boyfriends. I’ve discovered a jealous streak I didn’t know about.”
Joey giggled.
“What? No one ever been jealous before?”
“No.”
“My psychologist says to try not to go too fast. To let myself process things and allow myself to say no to stuff. Well, she uses phrases like ‘give yourself permission’ and ‘self-care.’” He wrinkled his nose. “Anyway, I’ve got more therapy ahead of me. But one thing my dad didn’t take from me was my ability to trust my instincts. Dr. Clark pointed out that I trust Miguel at work and now he is basically living here. I trust you, too, Joey. I hope it isn’t too much too soon. I’m not ready to move in together, but when I think of us it’s not just right now, it’s in the future too.” Damn, his heart was still beating. He’d said all that to the handsome, sexy man in his bed, in his arms, and hadn’t melted from embarrassment.
“Buck Swanfeldt, are you asking me to be your boyfriend? Didn’t you hear me say ‘yes’? Because the answer hasn’t changed. If you’re worried that I’m going to learn some terrible truth about you that’s going to drive me away . . . well, I’ve got my skeletons, too, and I hope they don’t scare you away. You said you trust me. Trust that I’m not going anywhere.”
“Okay.” Another surge of emotion welled up, expanding Buck’s heart almost painfully. He held Joey close, breathing his scent in, feeling Joey’s weight pressed against his side, his soft, warm skin under Buck’s palms.
