by Tara Lain
Apparently neither could Gareth, because he walked up to David’s car door and opened it. He took David’s hand and tugged him into his arms. Their lips met, and a shock of sweetness tingled through David’s nerves. But this kiss wasn’t the sweet meeting of lips they’d shared at the pageant. Uh-uh. Hello, tongue. Gareth plunged into David’s mouth, exploring and igniting. David wanted to wrap his legs around the guy and get their cocks into proximity, but some tiny piece of his mind remembered the neighbors. Probably humping-the-hunk was not a game Mrs. Wildebrand next door most wanted to see. He pulled back. “Let’s go inside. I still have to live in this neighborhood.”
“Yeah, sorry.” But Gareth grinned. Not sorry.
They walked together, holding hands and no doubt looking sappy, to the front of David’s North Laguna cottage. He unlocked the door, flipped on the lights in the entry, and stepped aside.
Gareth walked into the house, gazing around like he was sightseeing. David held his breath a little. This house was his baby, at least as much as his business, and he wanted Gareth to like it.
“This is beautiful. Do you own it?”
David exhaled. “Yes. I bought it as a fixer-upper with some money my uncle left me. Same time I started my business. I’ve been working on it ever since. It’s close to done. Just the upstairs guest bath to finish.”
Gareth twirled around in the small entry and then went into the living room. The décor was what David thought of as comfortable modern—polished maple floors, a nice comfy couch in a deep tangerine color, two print chairs that welcomed slouching and lounging. And, of course, a big flat-screen TV. He was, after all, a guy.
Gareth wandered through the room looking at pictures and touching some of David’s favorite objects like a beautiful pink, luminescent conch shell he’d bought in Hawaii, an antique Imari bowl, and one of the funny clownish dolls David sold in the shop. When Gareth turned over the novel open on the side table by the big chair and looked at the title, David blushed. “I read romance novels.”
Gareth picked it up. “Gay romance novels?”
“Yeah, there are lots of them.”
“Really? I never heard of that. I bet I’d like them.”
David felt the smile spread across his face. Phil used to throw David’s paperbacks in the trash where he said they belonged. So not Phil. “Are you hungry?”
Gareth leered. “Define hungry, love.”
David put his hands on his hips in his best mother mode. “This is your chance to eat before you fuck me into the mattress. I certainly don’t want any growling bellies competing with my moans of delight, so don’t come whining to me later, young man.”
Gareth laughed, grabbed David and swung him around. “God, you are so great.”
“Am I? I’d think a fairy boy like me would be too girly for a big he-man like you.”
Gareth set him down and touched his cheek. “Thing is, mate, I’m gay. I’ve been denying and pretending for so long, being with you makes me feel free. Like there’s no need to pretend. Like blokes can see us together and know we’re… well, a couple. I think you’re beautiful, and funny, and fun, and I love that.”
“You’re pretty freaking special yourself.”
He grinned. “And actually, I’m starving for you, but I’m also damned hungry. I get used to thousands of calories a day when I’m playing, and I haven’t had much since breakfast. So yeah, I’d love something to eat. Besides, this is no one-night stand, so I want you to know me, and I want to know everything about you.”
Yep. Not Phil. David took his hand. “Come on, I’ll make eggs.”
Chapter Six
THE KITCHEN was bright. Gareth figured that in the daytime it would be airy and full of sunlight. Out the window in the backyard, twinkling little lights gave enough illumination to show a small pond and a big tree with a swing. It was all… well, pretty, and very, very David.
He leaned against the counter and watched David move efficiently around the kitchen, preparing an omelet so Gareth wouldn’t starve. God, he was bloody beautiful in his tight jeans that molded to that perfect ass, and the almost shoulder-length, wavy, light brown hair. It was easy to see why Edge had nailed him as a pouf on first glance. Funny, that he was so attracted to that… what? Effeminate quality? Gayness?
David was as handsome a man as one could imagine. Tall—probably six feet or six one—broad-shouldered, lean-hipped. But his hand gestures were graceful, his walk had a sway, his voice was high, and the way he dressed, the bright colors and tight pants, screamed gay. Maybe not as much as the big guy at the art booth, but still very obvious.
Gareth was considered a good-looking guy, but beside David he felt plain—and he liked that. Kind of like a man wore a plain black tuxedo to show off his wife’s gown. He wanted to show David off. Man, mate, you got it bad.
David looked at him over his shoulder. “Shouldn’t you be with your mom tonight?” He delivered two perfect-looking omelets to the kitchen table, then poured glasses of white wine he took from the refrigerator.
“No, she wants me to be with you.”
He grinned. “Actually, she did seem kind of happy to meet me.”
“Aren’t we sassy?”
“Always.” He flipped his hair, which got a corresponding flip from Gareth’s cock.
They both sat at the table. How great was it seeing David across from him? Christ, he’d gone from in-the-closet to sappy gay guy in a few hours. He took a bite. Cheese, herbs, butter, eggs. “So good.” He shoveled in another mouthful.
David lit up. Ridiculous how happy that made him. He took a couple more bites for good measure. “Actually, my mom. She knew I was gay before I did. She worried because it’s not easy being a gay athlete in Australia, plus my dad hates the idea and won’t accept it.”
“Like Edge.”
“Yeh.” He chewed, but a little bitterness seeped into the eggs. “Pretty bloody masochistic to set up my life with a father and a best friend who hate what I am.” Christ, he’d said it in jest, but that really was true, and that truth echoed through him.
When he looked up, David was staring at him with a soft smile. “Are you just realizing that now?”
“Yeh, kind of.” Bloody hell, it seemed to be a day for revelations. He just wanted to eat and fuck David, but man, he couldn’t help remembering. His father raising his fists to two guys in a café just because he thought they might be a couple. Edge with his countless slurs against any man who looked even a little pretty—while constantly ignoring that Gareth was one of those guys. He swallowed hard. “When I was little and started noticing guys, I was so ashamed. I felt sick. Perverted.”
“Do you still?”
Gareth looked up. “No.” Did he? “I had my mom telling me I was great just the way I am.” Had that been enough?
“I love what you are. Not just that you’re gay, but that you were willing to threaten all the realities of your life in order to be true to yourself. That’s big, Gareth.”
A knife he barely knew was there got yanked out of his heart. Hurt like hell, and bled like crazy.
David leaned over the table to touch a finger to Gareth’s cheek, then stood and crossed around the table. He sat on Gareth’s lap and wrapped his arms around his neck.
Twenty-two years of pain flooded Gareth’s chest and tightened his throat. David held him tighter. Suddenly, his shoulders shook and his chest convulsed in a big gasp. Bloody fucking hell, he was crying, like a damned girl. He never cried, but now he sobbed against David’s neck.
David petted his hair and crooned. “It’s okay, let it all out. It’s been awful, hasn’t it? It’s been awful, but it’s over.”
Yes, awful. Not just the shame, but the fear. Fear of discovery, of physical harm, of disappointing everyone who loved him. Being told again and again, though the speakers didn’t know they were talking to him, that he was horrible, laughable, hateable. He hurt all the way to his soul. This man sitting on his lap knew every tiny particle of what he felt. Gareth could sens
e that, knew it for certain. Maybe every gay man and woman knew it to some degree. Maybe the tears weren’t just for himself, but for the 10 percent of the human race that a chunk of the population said didn’t have a right to be.
When his sobs got softer, David leaned back and slipped off his lap, leaving cold behind. He pulled on Gareth’s hands, tugging him to his feet. “Come on, sweetheart. You need some rest. Let’s go to bed.”
Gareth wiped at his eyes and tried to stay upright. He couldn’t believe he’d cried. He couldn’t believe he’d never cried before. “I want to fuck you so bad, if you don’t mind being with a crybaby.”
“I want to fuck you a lot more because of those tears, but first you need rest. It’s not every day you battle the Brazilians, come out of the closet, and realize how painful it’s been in there. Come on.”
“Can I fuck you later?”
“You’d better.”
MMMM. OH God. Dreaming? Never wanted to wake up. David felt awash in sweetness. Feather-light touches on his belly, soft little kitten licks up his chest, and, sweet Lord, a hot tongue on his nipples.
Slowly he opened his eyes. The low bedside lamp had been turned on, and before him was a sight he would happily enjoy every time he awoke. Crystal-blue eyes gazed at him with heat, plus an affection that stole his breath.
Gareth was lying half across David’s naked chest, alternately nibbling and grinning. When he saw David was awake, he eased closer and slipped a soft, wet tongue against David’s lips. David opened in ardent welcome, and that hot tongue dove in to take possession. How could anyone taste so good at this hour? When Gareth leaned back from the kiss, David gave him a smile. “Is this my early morning wake-up call?”
“Actually, the wake-up call came from Mr. Cock Underwood down there. I woke up to feel him poking me hard in the back. Thought I’d died and gone to heaven.”
Ah yes, the morning woody was at full attention, and the kiss had added fuel to the fire. “So what would you like to do about the morning marauder?”
“Actually, I was halfway to doing it but didn’t want to take advantage. What say you just lie there and let this Australian cowboy take a ride?”
What? Before David could think, much less protest, Gareth had rolled a rubber on Mr. Underwood junior, lubed him up, and, still facing David, squatted on powerful thighs over David’s hips and fit that woody to his hole. With one deep lunge, he was down.
“Holy shit! Gareth, I thought you were going to fuck me. I don’t… I mean….”
“I am fucking you, love. We wouldn’t want that wonderful hard-on to go to waste. Nothing to do but enjoy.”
Enjoy he did. His cock was swallowed in heat, squeezed into the tightest, most perfect, hot hole. Oh shit. Friction. Friction. Oh… my… God!
He seldom topped, so he’d forgotten how good a tight hole could feel. This one was the masterpiece of asses. They should put it in the pageant.
Gareth threw his head back, eyes closed, with one forearm on the bed for balance while the other stroked his own cock. His breath gasped from his exercise-trained lungs.
David smiled. “Enjoying your ride?”
Gareth’s eyes flew open, and he gave that leer again. “Hell yes, mate. I’d call this stallion a prime pony.”
“Oh crap, that feels good.” David grabbed Gareth’s big, heavy dick from his hand and began to pump it.
Gareth rode David’s cock harder and harder until they were gasping and moaning. David’s hip pushed up as Gareth came down, and he knew his cock must be halfway to the big guy’s tonsils, but he was taking it all, and shit, it was heaven.
“Oh, bloody hell, this is feeling too good. I haven’t had anything this good in, like, forever, and I’m afraid—”
“Don’t worry, baby. I’m the same. I can’t last. Oh shit, Gareth. Oh shit.” The orgasm at the pageant seemed long ago and fading into insignificance. Heat flowed through David until he felt like the top of his head blew off and brains scattered through the stars. Every cell tingled in ecstasy and then exploded right in his cock as cum streamed out of him.
Gareth threw his head back and planted both hands on the bed while he rammed his ass down on David’s pumping dick and wrung the last few shivers of sensation from the climax. “David, David, David.”
So good. So good.
Gareth stayed poised until his legs trembled, then fell to the side, pulling David’s softening cock from the best place it had ever been. David grabbed the condom to keep it from slipping off, pulled it and tied it, then dropped it on the floor. Might stain the finish, but who the fuck cared? This house felt like a home—with Gareth in it.
Gareth chuckled. “That was a lot of cock for a beginner.”
David wrapped Gareth in his arms, pulling his head onto a shoulder. “I was going to mention that. I thought you’d top. My ass is more experienced.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve done a bit of stretching on my own. Call it wishful thinking.”
“I have a mental image of this big alpha-male Aussie hiding in the bathroom with a pink dildo in his ass.”
“Practically that bad.”
Gareth laughed, but David heard the hurt pushing through. Maybe it always would.
DAVID WALKED down the hill toward the center of town with Gareth beside him. David reached for his hand. For a second Gareth looked worried, maybe even scared; then he smiled ear to ear and interlocked his fingers with David’s.
David showed Gareth his favorite outdoor café, where he bought them breakfast—lattes and hot scrambled egg sandwiches—and carried them to the gallery. He didn’t want to be late. Since he’d taken yesterday off, he’d told JJ he could sleep in today.
He opened the gallery. Gareth sat munching at the counter as David turned on the computer and set up the cash drawer.
“Hi, pretty.”
He looked up as Wanda, one of his favorite people, made her grand entrance into the shop. Dressed in a brilliant green dress and striped stockings that clashed fabulously with her fuzzy red hair, Wanda was an official Laguna Beach character.
He air-kissed her wrinkled cheeks. “Love your outfit, darling.”
“Just trying to compete with yours, gorgeous.” She waved at the short, flowered kimono David had layered over a tight tank top and skinny jeans. She glanced at Gareth, and her whole face lit up. “Who, may I ask, is this gorgeous hunk of humanity?”
Gareth, falling immediately into the grandeur of the situation, gave a small bow from the waist. “Gareth Marshall, ma’am.”
“You’re Australian, aren’t you?”
He nodded.
“Australian men are my very favorites. No offense, David darling.”
“None taken, Wanda. They are now officially my favorites too. Gareth, this is Wanda, Queen of Sheba.”
Gareth took her small, wrinkled hand in his. “Pleased to meet you, Your Majesty.”
She gave a cackling laugh. “So, you’re queer?”
Gareth looked startled. David laughed. “Yes, Wanda, he’s gay.”
“Well, Lord love a duck, wouldn’t you love to parade him past all those flaming assholes who claim they can spot a homo a mile away? He’d put some gaydar to the test, wouldn’t he?” She laughed again.
“Yep, I didn’t know he was gay until he told me.”
She stepped closer to Gareth and took his muscled arm. “Well, handsome, you got yourself a good man here. David’s one of the best people I know, gay, straight, or undecided. See you take good care of him. There’s this flaming asshole that likes to beat up on him, so you look after him.”
Shit. He didn’t want to even think about Phil. “Wanda, no need to bring up ancient history.”
“No, that’s why I’m here, honey. History is repeating itself. I saw that flaming asshole a few days ago on the rooftop. He was with some real slick-looking flaming assholes like him.”
A frown crossed Gareth’s face, and though ice coated David’s spine, he said, “It’s no worry, Wanda. You know I have a restraining order agains
t him. He’s too smart to go against that.” Oh God, he hoped.
She wrinkled her nose. “Never noticed that flaming asshole had an IQ higher than his penis size, and I figure that’s less than four.” She wiggled her little finger, which made David laugh in spite of the goose bumps her news had produced. She smiled. “But I expect you’re right. No need to worry. I wanted you to know. Good to meet you, handsome.” She stuck out a hand to Gareth. “Bye, honey.” Another air kiss and she was gone.
David smiled brightly at Gareth. “Isn’t she something? One of our official Laguna eccentrics.”
“Who the hell was she talking about? What guy did you have to take out a restraining order on?” Obviously, Gareth hadn’t been distracted.
David stared into the remains of his latte. “Just an ex.”
“Sounds like it’s damned good he’s ex. If you even see a hair on his head, you’ll tell me, right? You’ll call if I’m not here. No one will ever hurt you if I’m around.”
Should he accept the gallant comment or say something? Gareth said he wanted to know David, so…. “Actually, I want you to know that I’m thrilled by your desire to put your safety on the line for me. But despite the fact that I was in an abusive relationship, I’m no victim, and I’m damned good at taking care of myself. I left that bastard even though he threatened everything including my life, and I got a restraining order against him where others said I was nuts to try. I know I’m queeny, and I enjoy being Queen, but I’m also a man who’s been looking after himself since I was sixteen. I appreciate the thought, but I don’t need you to take care of me.” He exhaled loudly. “Sorry about the speech.”
Gareth cocked his head and slowly smiled. “Humor me, mate. I never thought you needed me, but I’d like to take care of you a little if you’ll let me.”
David rubbed his cheek. “Might be too addictive, you know. Australia’s a long way away.”
