A Subtle Breeze

by Bailey Bradford

  Zeke groaned and tilted his ass up, reaching back to spread his cheeks while Brendon grabbed the strip of condoms and tore one off. The sound of that package being torn open had Zeke’s breath quickening in anticipation.

  “Damn!” Brendon muttered the curse as he latched on to Zeke’s hip with one hand. Despite being stretched, Zeke grunted as Brendon pushed hard, seating his cock fully into Zeke’s snug channel. The pain was brief and quickly blotted out by pleasure, so much so that all he could concentrate on was not coming again immediately. Between watching Brendon lick the cum from his fingers and the fullness of the man’s cock in his ass, Zeke was having a hell of time trying to hold back.

  Doesn’t quite seem fair, he thought, so Zeke moved his hips and clamped his inner muscles down tight. Brendon let out a hoarse yell and began surging in and out, one hand still clasping Zeke’s hip, the other pressing down on the small of his back. Zeke’s orgasm blasted through his body, curling his toes and blowing his mind. His muscles squeezed down hard on Brendon’s shaft and heard the man bellow as Brendon shoved in as deep as he could get, pumping jets of hot cum into the condom.

  Brendon’s legs wobbled against Zeke’s own before the man leaned over him, belly to back, using his weight to push them both over onto the couch. There they lay, panting and shivering until they finally could speak.

  “Shit, Zeke, that was…that was… I don’t even know how to describe it. I think the top of my head shot off, no joking.” Brendon sighed, melting against him.

  Zeke didn’t think it was an exaggeration, either. Hell, it was a huge understatement. Zeke chuckled softly. “I know, baby, I don’t think I am going to be able to move for a while.” He groaned, but it wasn’t the sexy sound Brendon had drawn from him only minutes ago. “And somehow, I have to find the strength to clean the couch. Damn.”

  Brendon eased up off of Zeke, his mind spinning with questions now that the blood had returned to his brain. What had happened in the kitchen? He wasn’t sure, but it looked to him as though the man had started to have a panic attack. Enessa had told him she thought her brother suffered from anxiety, but that, well, that was more than just anxiety. Brendon felt an urgent need to help him, a little tweak in his heart when he thought of the man hurting. He felt more for Zeke than he probably should, considering they had only just met. The thing was, since Nessa and Gloria had told him so much about Zeke, had spent the last few weeks telling him everything they could possibly think of about the man, it seemed to Brendon that he had known Zeke for quite a while.

  However, he also knew how cautious the man was—and not without good reason—so he decided it would be best to keep his questions to himself for now. He watched as Zeke stood, favoring his bad knee and grimacing slightly.

  “How about you point me to the bathroom and I go grab a couple of cloths for us—and the couch?” He could, at least, be useful in this one thing.

  Zeke turned and looked at him, studying him for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, okay. Down the hall first door to the right.”

  Brendon left him there, feeling Zeke watching him as he walked away. He was pretty sure the man had been looking for signs of curiosity over the strange behavior that had occurred in the kitchen. Hopefully, he had managed to hide it from him. Stepping into the bathroom, Brendon removed the condom and tied it off before throwing it in the trash. He dug around until he found two washcloths and ran warm water over them, wringing them out once they were saturated.

  Brendon groaned when he walked back to the living room and saw that Zeke had pulled on his jeans. Zeke’s head flew up at the noise, a blank expression on his face.

  “Now, why,” Brendon asked, handing the other man a cloth, “did you go and do that?”

  “Do what?” Zeke asked, washing the drying spunk from his belly. Brendon was sure Zeke knew what he meant and either wasn’t ready or didn’t know how to answer. From what Enessa had told Brendon, she’d never known her brother to have a lover over, or a steady relationship. Chances were good, then, that this whole after-fucking conversation deal was new to Zeke. That thought brought a smile to Brendon’s lips. He kind of liked this whole situation being new to Zeke, it might help Brendon to win the man’s affection—something that had, in the last hour or so, become increasingly important. A quick affair no longer appealed to Brendon, he wanted more for the both of them. And no matter how much he would like to be the first man Zeke actually felt something for, the real problem was that he’d rather be the last.

  Brendon finished cleaning the couch, enjoying the blush that stained Zeke’s cheeks. Ah ha, the man was nervous, and hard, too, which made Brendon’s dick harden in response. “I meant,” he drawled, watching that blush tint the tips of Zeke’s ears, “why’d you cover up that gorgeous cock?” Brendon reached down and stroked his own hard-on, feeling its wet head as Zeke watched.

  “I, uhn…I…” Zeke’s eyes were locked, unblinking, on the show Brendon was putting on for him. He hoped like hell he was shorting out Zeke’s defenses.

  Zeke plopped down on the couch as if his legs had given out on him. Brendon might have been worried about that, except Zeke’s gaze hadn’t wavered. He watched Brendon with a hunger that was unmistakable.

  Brendon stroked himself the entire time he walked forward, stopping only inches from Ezekiel. Brendon used his other hand to take the second cloth and dropped them both on the floor before stepping between Zeke’s spread legs. He stopped stroking his cock, guiding it instead to brush the head across Zeke’s slightly parted lips. Brendon almost expected the man to push him away, and nearly fell to his knees when Zeke grasped his hips and engulfed half of Brendon’s cock. Brendon’s head flew back as a strangled sound was ripped from his throat. Zeke drew back, running his tongue along the underside of Brendon’s cock, looking up to meet his stunned gaze. He wasn’t so far gone that he didn’t catch Zeke’s amusement, or the chuckle that vibrated over his dick.

  “Ah, fuck, Zeke, fuck,” he groaned, curling his hands in his new lover’s hair. Brendon’s balls drew up, his muscles tingling and tensing. “I’m gonna…need to come,” he warned, hands still fisted tight in Zeke’s hair, guiding him gently.

  Zeke hummed his approval, swirling and sucking and throwing Brendon right into an orgasm that was almost violent in force. He watched as Zeke swallowed the bursts of semen, and shivered as the man swirled his tongue into the slit to suckle out every drop before backing off the now-flaccid cock.

  Brendon stumbled backwards, plopping down on the coffee table when the backs of his legs smacked into it. Holy shit, he was pretty sure he’d suffered some brain damage or something. He’d never had a blow job that intense before. Brendon’s hands were shaking so badly he grabbed the edge of the coffee table to hide the trembling. He finally managed to raise his head and look at Zeke, feeling his heart pinch a little at the sweet smile on the man’s lips.

  “Maybe putting my jeans on was the only way to hold back so I could suck your cock,” Zeke whispered. He was so hard he felt breathless. Watching Brendon come, tasting his seed… Zeke groaned softly and reached down to rub his own erection through the denim encasing it.

  “I want to fuck you, Brendon.” He watched the man’s eyes widen with trepidation. Zeke knew he was big, but he also knew Brendon would fit around his cock like a tight velvet glove. He wouldn’t push the man, but he would encourage him.

  “I want you to ride me, fuck me until I can’t breathe, can’t think, until we are nothing but two bodies burning for release.” God, Zeke hoped his words were adequate in explaining what he meant. He never had considered himself an eloquent man, hadn’t really worried about it before. Now, though, he wished he had the words to make Brendon understand what he wanted—that blending of two people so completely you couldn’t tell where one left off and the other began.

  Brendon’s mouth opened and shut a few times, and Zeke didn’t know if the man couldn’t speak or simply didn’t know what to say. He waited, watching the doubt and desire flash across Brendon’s
face. Finally, Brendon nodded, though he still looked unsure.

  “It’s, ah, it’s been a while since I’ve, you know,” he stuttered out, studying the floor.

  Zeke grinned with delight, because Brendon looked so damn sexy when he was timid and tremulous.

  “We’ll take it slow, baby, as slow as you want. You’ll be in control of how deep and how fast,” Zeke promised, standing up and reaching for his lover’s hand. “We’ll fit, Brendon, and it will be so good, so right, that every fear you’ve had about it will be forgotten.” He studied Brendon, noting the effect the words were having—rapid breathing, pounding pulse, and that lovely cock bobbing with each heartbeat. Oh, yeah, his man wanted this. Zeke drew the shorter man into his arms and took Brendon’s mouth, kissing him with enough force their teeth clacked together. The kiss started off full throttle and only burned hotter, tongues thrusting and twisting as each man nipped and ate at the other’s mouth.

  Moaning as he pulled away, Zeke rested his forehead against Brendon’s. A thought that had been buzzing around in his mind finally stilled. “Brendon, is Nessa…”

  Brendon nodded. “Yeah, she’s staying with Gloria, I’m sure.”

  Zeke grunted, slitting his eyes at the man. “Just how much of this did y’all plan out? Seems like you went through a lot for one night.” Zeke didn’t know whether to be relieved or irritated that the three had been discussing his sex life, plotting for him to get laid. Although he couldn’t be too irritated. Maybe he should actually send the girls flowers. Or chocolate. Or both. He smiled, trying to assure Brendon he wasn’t angry about the whole deal.

  “Uh. Well. We didn’t really get into specifics. I mean, that would just be too weird with my cousin and your sister.” Brendon squirmed a little as Zeke continued to stare at him. “I just, um… One night?”

  Zeke laughed at the man’s discomfort, finding it oddly endearing. “You just, um, what?” He started to squeeze Brendon a little tighter, then froze when it dawned on him that ‘one night’ had come back doubtfully. He loosened his hold and leaned back to look at the man.

  “Yeah, one night, or were you…” Zeke didn’t know if he should be hopeful or worried if Brendon was going to be spending a few days in McKinton. If the man stayed here that long, there was no way they would be able to stay away from each other. If he left in the morning… That didn’t make him feel any better, either.

  “Or were you staying a few days?” Zeke tried to keep his tone neutral, because he honestly couldn’t say what he would prefer. Well, he could, but he knew it would be best if this were a one-night thing. Safer for all of them, even if it meant going right back to his lonely existence. The fact that Brendon didn’t answer him immediately, instead averted his eyes, had Zeke dropping his arms and stepping away.

  “What aren’t you telling me, Brendon?” he asked in a soft voice that belied the anger and fear beginning to stir in him.

  Brendon heard the warning in Zeke’s voice and knew he had a couple of choices. He could play along, tell the man he was only going to be here a few days at the most. That would, possibly, result in a continuation of tonight’s fuckfest. Or, he could tell the truth, let Zeke know he wasn’t going to be leaving any time soon, and risk alienating him as well as almost certainly bringing the evening to a close.

  The fact that he didn’t have to debate with himself for long should have frightened him, but the truth of the matter was, he wanted more than tonight, more than a few nights. Brendon wanted a relationship with the magnificent man standing before him. For that reason alone, there would be no lies. He didn’t deceive himself into thinking it would be easy. He would have to fight Zeke and possibly a good number of the townspeople, but he was willing to do it. For whatever reason, he couldn’t let Zeke walk away, couldn’t walk away himself.

  Brendon had never considered himself a coward and wouldn’t let the fear of rejection make him one now. Shoulders squared, he stared Zeke straight in the eyes, letting the man see his determination. When he spoke, he made sure to keep his voice equally soft as Zeke had.

  “Actually, Zeke, I’m not going to be here for a night, a few days, or even a week.” Brendon paused, watching the man pale as he realized what was being said. Showing no mercy, he plowed on. “Not even for just a month. I’ll be here all summer. Possibly longer, if I decide it’s worth it.”

  Zeke shook his head, anger apparent in the gesture as well as in the way his hands clenched into fists. “No, no! You need to leave! There’s nothing worth staying here for. Nothing.”

  Brendon shrugged, unwilling to be intimidated. “I think there is, and I won’t let your fear push me away.”

  “It’s not my fear pushing you away, Brendon, it’s me. This…what happened between us, it’s just fucking,” Zeke snarled, flinging a hand through the air. “You’re just a body, don’t you get it? Any man would have done.” He turned and walked to his room, leaving Brendon standing naked and alone.

  Chapter Three

  Brendon stood in the hallway, trying not to let Zeke’s words hurt him. He was pretty sure that Zeke’d said what he did to try to scare him off, but still, shit, that was harsh! No, he couldn’t allow himself to be hurt this easily, not if he intended to prove to Zeke that he was serious. Hadn’t he just acknowledged that he would have to fight Zeke’s fears to build a relationship? If he ran off the first time he got his feelings hurt, then that didn’t speak well for his integrity or the feelings he professed, if only to himself, for Zeke.

  While Brendon knew he was more emotionally involved than Zeke, he fully believed they had a connection between them that could grow into something exceptional. But what should he do, right now? That was the question. He didn’t want to be too forceful and freak Zeke out, but something told Brendon he would have to be a bit more forward than he was comfortable with, much as he had ever since he’d learned of the man.

  A sweet scent permeated the air—right before Brendon felt a faint nudge on his shoulder blade. He jumped, glancing behind him, but nothing was there. Feeling a little silly and a lot creeped out, Brendon walked quickly to Zeke’s door. The idea of knocking entered his mind, but that unexplainable nudge had him reaching for the doorknob and twisting it without hesitation. Fuck respecting privacy, he was not going to stand naked out in the hallway a second longer.

  Brendon jerked the door open and froze mid-step, his heart breaking at the sight before him. Zeke sat on the floor, back against the bed, arms wrapped around his bent knees. Short, jerky pants were spasming from his lungs. Brendon could see the fear in his eyes, see the struggle Zeke was in the midst of while trying to fight back the panic attack. His lips were tinted a faint blue as his body tried to compensate for the lack of oxygen.

  Anger surged through Brendon. He knew without a doubt Zeke had been suffering panic attacks alone, keeping them a secret from everyone. No more, he thought. Ezekiel was not dealing with this alone any more. Brendon rushed over, nearly sliding on his knees as he dropped down on the floor. Zeke didn’t seem to see or hear him—he was lost in his own private hell.

  Gently, Brendon touched the man’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Zeke, just concentrate on breathing. Deep breaths in”—Brendon inhaled in example—“slow breaths out.” He exhaled and repeated the directions, over and over, trying to reach Ezekiel.

  More of his heart shattered as tears ran down Zeke’s cheeks. Jesus, what could he do to help? He didn’t know, but Brendon would be damned if he’d be in such a position of helplessness again. As soon as possible, he would begin researching panic attacks and learn as much as he could. When Zeke’s breathing grew even shakier, Brendon wiped at his own tears angrily, struggling for control. Finally, in desperation, he wrapped the man in his arms and started rocking him, uttering whatever soothing nonsense he could manage.

  It seemed an eternity before Zeke’s breathing started to even out. The gasping noises as air-starved lungs pumped frantically finally became quieter, steadier breaths. Zeke’s muscles gradually loosened, unclenching fr
om the rigid state they had been in. Brendon stroked Zeke’s back, his arms, chest—anywhere Brendon could reach to try to work the remaining tension from his body. When Zeke seemed to be breathing normally with only an occasional shudder, Brendon could not hold back. He gently cupped Zeke’s chin and forced his head up from where he was trying to bury it against his knees in embarrassment.

  “No,” Brendon murmured, taking Zeke’s mouth in a tender kiss, a gentle sweep of tongue. “No hiding from me, Zeke. I haven’t seen anything I hadn’t already figured out.”

  Zeke tried to pull away but with his body worn from its experience, he couldn’t break free. His throat worked twice in an attempt to speak, and Brendon figured he would just cut him off. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t like what Zeke was trying to get out. Standing, he gingerly pulled the shaking man to his feet, keeping a hand around Zeke’s waist to steady him.

  “Not a word, Zeke. Not a one, not right now. You’re trembling and probably exhausted after what you just went through. Let’s get you stripped and in bed.” Brendon sat him down and unbuttoned his jeans. “All right, on your back, buddy.” He was fixing to give Zeke a little push when the man suddenly capitulated and flopped back on the bed, raising his hips up so Brendon could pull off the jeans. Brendon was more than a little surprised to find him semi-erect after the panic attack. Maybe it was a side effect, he didn’t know, but he would as soon as he could get his hands on his laptop.

  Zeke’s voice, rough and barely audible, startled him out of his musings. “Why didn’t you leave?”

  Brendon glanced at him and figured what the hell. He worked part of the covers over Zeke as he spoke.

  “Honestly? Because I know there can be something between us, something more than fucking. And I know you know it, too. Yes, you do,” he repeated when Zeke shook his head weakly. “I believe you’re an honest man, so I have to wonder why you aren’t being honest now.” Brendon pretended to muse it over as weary green eyes watched him. He grinned at Zeke.