by Rhys Ford
There were small whispers between their bodies, intimate, sibilant slithers of fabric and skin. Angel chased away the chilly spot between West’s shoulder blades, his toned, hard stomach a welcome warmth to ease away the aches in West’s bruised bones. Their touching resonated, striking hidden wells buried deep inside West’s soul, the comfort of Angel’s breath on the back of his neck soothing away the prickles dug into his troubled mind. Angel’s strange, steady wildness calmed him, an unexpected heart-pounding rapid rush of a ride until a corner turned and he found the serenity in the middle of the storm. West closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and engraved the moment Angel wrapped his arms around his chest into his heart to keep for the rest of his life.
“I wish I’d forgotten how good this feels,” he murmured.
West felt Angel’s soft chuckle resonate up out of him, burying his laughter into West’s spine. Laying his hand on West’s belly, he said, “I’m not sure how to take that.”
“If I’d forgotten,” he explained, shifting his hips to lodge himself tighter into the V between Angel’s parted legs, “I would be able to discover it all over again. How magical that would be. To feel that all over again.”
“I think those painkillers of yours are working. You’re turning all sweet on me.” Angel bent his head down, brushing his lips across West’s cheek. His breath was minty, the tip of his tongue a hot daub on the corner of West’s lips. “So should I yell at Justin or thank him with some cookies?”
“Fuck the cookies.” West craned back, savoring Angel’s deep kiss. “I’m going to buy him a damned car. Maybe a damned pony.”
WEST’S SHIRT didn’t survive the twenty steps it took for them to get to the bed. It tore, snagged around Angel’s fingers, and the thin, silky fabric gave in easily to the tension of being fisted, then pulled. It was understandable. West had every intention of giving in to Angel’s hands, mouth, and everything else offered up to him.
And he wanted to give as good as he got in return.
His ankle complained about the scramble across the polished wood floor, then the sudden grip of the plush area rug around his bed. Not far behind, West’s knee twisted and moaned, but he shoved aside the twinges and pain. It’d been forever since he’d tasted Angel in his mouth, a slap of a kiss in the middle of his foyer and his soul creaked open, shaking off the rusted iron bands he’d forged around it.
“God, you taste so fucking good.”
Angel’s mutter was low, poured hot sugar over West’s tight nerves. His voice, rich and velvety, stroked at West’s balls, cupping them as Angel’s laugh slid down West’s throat. His stomach caught the flutter of Angel’s smooth, silken baritone, ripples of sound feathering down the length of West’s torso, then spreading over his thighs.
Angel’s dark hair ran damp near his skull, leaving wet slathers on West’s fingers when he dug them through Angel’s mane. They fought to kiss, struggling to shed their clothes, but not break apart, a violent dance of fractured symmetry disjointed enough to frustrate, but West soldiered on. He needed to have Angel against him—in him—and the weight of his desire frightened him more than the fire eating through Angel’s bakery or the bullet flying through his foyer.
He’d never given himself to another man. He’d never offered his body up for anything other than his own pleasure. Sure, he’d returned blow jobs and jerked his casual lovers off, but the pleasure he’d gotten from sinking into another man’s body was not anything he’d ever imagined, much less actually contemplated doing.
With Angel—his Angel—West knew he was safe. The enormity of his fear numbed his limbs, seeping into his face, and he bled white, the sensation in his cheeks going dull. Blinking, he stared hard at the man he’d never wanted to lose but lost anyway.
“Do you know I’ve never….” West exhaled. “I’ve never had anyone inside of me. I’ve always been….”
“Tab A?” Angel teased. Then his eyes shone silver, a contemplative mirror West feared to find himself in. “I’m good either way, West. Hell, I don’t care if we rub up against each other like we’re getting splinters off a pair of chopsticks, so long as I’m doing something with you.”
“Hear me out, please. See, I like sex. Don’t get me wrong.”
It was little more of a naughty whisper, but his words made Angel smile.
“But I’ve never loved sex. It’s always been… something I need to get done because I needed it. Like eating a sandwich because I needed food, but not really tasting anything. Just enough to keep my body going so I could get on with my life. It was never on the table. Like I was giving too much of myself. It’s not that I didn’t want it. I just—”
“And now?” Angel ventured softly. “With me?”
“I want you so fucking bad, I can taste it.” He shifted in Angel’s arms, their bare stomachs slightly slick from the heat of their touching skin. “I want you inside of me. And I want to be inside of you. See, I just figured out I’ve been afraid this whole time.
“It was easier to keep what I wanted in a box. Hell, I didn’t need my father to shove me into a closet. I built one around me.” Caught in Angel’s arms, West pulled his lover in close, curving Angel against him. “I’ve trusted no one. Let no one in… and none of them were… you. God, I’ve been a shit to a lot of guys because I’ve never given them anything except sex. This? You and me? It’s different. It feels different. I’ve spent my whole life holding my breath, waiting for us to happen, and I’m so very sorry it took me this long to find you again.”
“How about if we take our time and see where we end up?” Angel’s dimple flashed in his cheek.
“I’ve got a better idea.” West swallowed the lump in his throat. “I like having a goal, something to work towards. Helps me keep focused, and I like knowing where I’m going, so how about if we take our time and you fuck me so I work on my trust issues with the only man I feel safe with?”
“Well, then,” Angel murmured, dipping his head down for another kiss. “That sounds like a hell of a great plan.”
THERE WAS a taste to a man. It was hard to describe, a sweet musk tickled with an elusive erotic note meant to seduce and entice. Angel loved the scent of men, savoring the uniqueness of every one he’d been with.
Being with West was… different. As he licked up the inside of West’s thigh, the dapple of masculine essence left him needing more, aching for the glide of another inch of skin on his tongue. West’s tang filled him, quenching a desire he’d buried deep inside of him. Naked and laid bare to the stars glimmering through the bedroom’s massive windows, Angel sculpted his tongue around West’s velvety cock head and suckled off the slick fluid pearling at its slit.
It was the first true taste of West’s body, and Angel held the drop up against the roof of his mouth, reveling in the salt-bitters of his lover’s spend. He gripped West’s hips, digging into his lover’s soft skin, then went in for more.
“Angel,” West moaned, writhing under Angel. “God… damn it.”
Angel was torn, desperate to envelop himself in West’s heat and longing to explore every inch of the man’s long, strong body. There was a sleek power to West’s length. Hidden beneath the pressed button-up shirts and cuffed linen slacks was a study of planes and ridges, sloping muscles stretched taut over a graceful form. His pale skin flushed pink across his belly when Angel ran the tip of his tongue around West’s navel, the blush chasing up West’s chest to stain his cheeks.
West’s fingers dug into his hair, then his shoulders, brief sunbursts of burred pain and want. His body trembled under Angel’s mouth and fingers, his firm cock pressing into the dip in Angel’s tongue. Angel swallowed around him, then lightly dragged his teeth down West’s shaft, drawing out another shaky, rasping sigh from West’s kiss-swollen lips.
“Not… shit.” West’s nails sliced into Angel’s skin, his back bowing into a tight arch. Shuddering in Angel’s mouth, he twisted to get loose. “Damn it… Angel. Not….”
“Want me to stop?” Angel pulled
free, catching West’s sensitive cock ridge with the barest nip of his teeth. “Or—”
“Swear to God, if you don’t fuck me—”
“That’s all I was waiting for,” he promised. “I just needed to hear you wanted me.”
“What do you think I’ve been saying since we started this?” West lifted his head, scowling down the length of his body at Angel.
Angel sat back on his haunches and grinned at his lover, his sharp features turned saturnine from the pools of shadows, the faint golden light gilding the edges of his deep blue eyes. With his shock of inky hair rumpled around his face, West looked younger than his years, an echo of the innocent, soul-injured teen Angel’d met on the carnival’s thoroughfare.
“God, I love looking at you,” he whispered, crawling up West’s body.
He didn’t dare delve deeper than that for how he felt about West. Already trembling inside by having West naked under him, Angel couldn’t risk any more of himself, not when things were too nebulous, too fragile between them. As much as West talked of second chances and destinies, they were sitting in the ashes of their past, stoking the fires of the now between them. Angel wasn’t sure if he would survive the night, much less rise from the sear of their heat with everything still intact.
But West was worth the risk. He knew it in his gut. No, after what happened between them, he’d hold on to the night he shared with West and treasure it to his grave.
The mattress dimpled under his outstretched hands when Angel straddled West’s hips, his kiss stealing the air from West’s chest. They fought through the touch of their lips, delving in deep until they had to break apart, lungs tender from the strain of holding a single breath between them.
West brushed his fingers over Angel’s cheek, a feathering, soft caress tracing over the bone, then skimming over a small triangular scar near his right eye. Angel’s lashes caught on West’s thumb, flicking over the plump flesh’s ridges.
“I am so sorry about this. You know that?”
His smile was bashful, white and perfect against his faintly golden skin. Angel loved that smile, with West’s eyes crinkling at the edges. It was a face he could watch grow older, mellowing with age.
“I can’t believe how many scars I gave you in just a few months.”
“Felt like we were together forever, didn’t it?” Angel whispered against West’s palm. “All these years… and I didn’t regret one single second we had. Although, maybe less fish hooks and bottle cap duels in the future.”
“God, we were stupid kids.”
“Can’t say we’re much smarter now,” he admitted slyly. “But we can certainly find something better to do on a cold, crisp night than see who can fling a beer top into the fire.”
It was a slow dance, one filled with quiet laughter, bobbled lube splotches, and heated kisses. The condom was an exercise in patience, and Angel caught the tip of his tongue between his teeth when West slid it down Angel’s shaft. A few kisses later, Angel chuckled against West’s belly when the skin-warmed lube slid around on his fingers instead of slicking West’s body, and West teased him about taking his damned sweet time, then sucked in his breath when Angel rolled his balls around, making them draw up into the hollow between his thighs. Stroking his knuckles against West’s taint, Angel worked the lube into the tight ring below.
The hiss he drew out from West made him smile, as did the muttering threat he was given as he slid his fingers into West’s clenched hole. Angel lightly bit at West’s hip bone, drawing a bit of his attention away from the press against his rim. West was tight, nearly too tight, and Angel took his time, sliding and teasing West’s entrance.
“Angel—”
“Right here, West,” he murmured.
His lover’s body held his fingers tight, his oil-wet ring giving easily when teased apart. After coating his latex-covered cock with a handful of lube, Angel pressed against West’s rim and gently pushed in. West’s eyes were nearly black, and he caught his lower lip in between his teeth, huffing once when Angel guided his head past West’s ring and into the clenching heat beyond.
“Relax, babe,” Angel cautioned. “If it’s too much—”
“It’s not enough,” West ground out. Raising his hips, he grabbed at Angel’s side, skimming his hand over Angel’s hip. “Fuck, I need more of you. Please.”
There weren’t words for how delicious West felt around his body. He was a delectable wrap of warmth and velvet, engulfing Angel’s length, but it was the shuddering of pleasure West did when Angel worked in deep that drove Angel wild. Pulling out, he paused for a moment, then went back in, drawing another shaking response from the man under him.
With West’s legs hooked over his hips, Angel fell into a rhythm, and West rose to meet him, their bodies slowly moving to touch, then drawing away. The window near the bed fogged up, the silken dew from their joined heat masking their reflection, but the other panes left them open to the sky and its dark drape of sparkling cobalt.
Digging his knees into the mattress, Angel held West’s weight up and snapped his hips, driving harder into his lover’s body. They were quickly losing the beat they’d found between them, a tingling building as Angel’s balls roiled and danced. His cock throbbed, its head almost painfully tight from the stimulation of West’s tightening hold. Twisting his hips, Angel drove in deeper, harder than before, and a drop of sweat fell from his chest, splashing down on West’s sleek, bare belly.
Bending over, he laved at West’s plum-hued nipples, drawing the nubs up into tight buttons with his teeth. He bit, perhaps too hard, because West arched up, his stomach pressed into Angel’s, and his hard cock wept, trapped between them. Balancing carefully, Angel shoved his hand down to grasp West, then pulled up, falling into a counterbeat. West’s fingers covered his palm, and he murmured at Angel, urging him to help him finish.
Angel knew the moment West reached his peak. His face lost all its guard, and West simply sighed, opening his expression until he was peeled apart, his vulnerable and bruised nature breaking free of the chrysalis West’d built up around himself. The hot stream of cum from West’s cock was all Angel needed. The aromatic sting of West’s scent filled Angel’s senses, and he growled, his own release breaking free and gushing into the tight envelope around his shaft.
It became too much for Angel to bear. Thrown off-balance from their bodies’ spasms, Angel fell forward, resting his shoulder against West’s chest as they emptied themselves. Heart pounding through a roar in his ears, Angel panted, body slick with sweat and West’s spend. His lover’s neck was wet, and Angel licked at a spot beneath West’s earlobe, then bit at the sweat-dewed skin he found there.
“I’ve missed you so fucking much, Angel,” West whispered. “I’ve missed you since the day you left me.”
“I’ve missed you too.” Angel eased out of West as he stretched over his lover’s still trembling body. “I’ve missed the friend I had in you. And as much of an asshole as you are at times, you’re one of the best people I know. And I’ve kind of missed that too.”
“Stay with me.” West’s plea was soft, but Angel heard the frantic, hard desperation hidden in his rich tones. “Let me wake up with you. At least… just tomorrow morning.”
“I’ll be here, West.” He kissed West lightly. Their bodies were sticky with release and sweat, but Angel nuzzled in closer, feeling West’s need to be touched and reassured. “Tomorrow morning and any morning you might need me, okay? For as long as you want me, I will be here. I promise.”
Twelve
ANGEL WOKE up alone and in the dark. He was comfortable, oddly so. Nothing poked up into his back, and his feet seemed to be on the mattress. A soft mattress, firm enough to support his body, and when he stretched, he didn’t hit his head on a couch cushion or snag his toes into a minefield of exposed coiled springs.
The heady scent of sex and West slithered into his brain, and Angel blinked, his tumultuous thoughts settling down long enough for him to remember the yesterday he’d endur
ed and the glorious hours he’d spent with West before sleep finally claimed them.
“Okay, being alone is okay,” he told himself. “West owns a huge company. Probably has to go do mogul things at—” Angel checked the clock. “—five in the morning. Totally normal. And… oh shit, Rome. Okay, get up, Daniels. Your baby brother can’t find you in—”
It wasn’t as if Roman didn’t know Angel preferred men, but Angel’s dating pretty much dried up long before his brother moved in. Between taking care of Rome, covering the motel’s infrequent issues, and the bakery, his life was a tumble of work and sleep set on a rinse-and-repeat cycle. A niggle of guilt at leaving Pablo to take care of the morning baking load slipped down to a dull roar when he reminded himself the scrawny older man was not only competent but hated when Angel needlessly hovered.
“Less hovering,” Pablo would say, shaking a spatula at Angel’s nose. “You need to live more. You do the batters, and I bake. Now is baking time. So get out of my kitchen.”
“Okay, so right now it’s Joey’s kitchen. Again.” Angel took a quick peek at his phone, but Pablo hadn’t reached out for help. “Do what the man tells you. He does this all the time. Years now. Just… let everyone do their job… and take a shower so Rome doesn’t find you naked and raunchy.”
His shoulders and arms hurt, stings of prickling pain sharp enough to remind him of working the heavy shovel to fight the fire, and places along his neck throbbed, bruised from West’s lust-driven bites. He was marbled in black and blue along his chest, purpling welts scattered across his skin in a trail from his nipple to his upper arm.
“Okay, you need to eat more food if you’re going to stick around, Harris,” Angel muttered to himself as he scrubbed their night off his body. The shower spray was a battering of needles along his back, and even accounting for the strain along his shoulders from fighting the fire, there were too many sore spots along his spine for him to count. Twisting around, he frowned at a pinked bite mark on the back of his left thigh. “Really? Even there? Dude.”
