Twenty-three
Elijah
Silas presses his slick body to mine as I slide a washcloth between his legs, rubbing over his straining cock. He suppresses a moan, leaning his head on my shoulder and water droplets slide down his long dark lashes. The very sight takes my breath away. Holding him closer to me, I pepper kisses to his wet hair and neck, running my fingers over his scar. I told myself I wouldn’t question whether the heart that beats in his chest was once Landon’s.
The thought is absurd. Something was triggered inside me after he told me when he had the surgery—the exact time Landon went missing. Then he said the donor died in an accident and I snapped, the thinning rope that had been holding me together before Silas strengthened it beginning to unravel all over again.
“I like showering with you.” Silas lifts his eyes to me.
“Oh yeah?” I nibble on his ear, pinching one of his pretty pink nubs, and his skin ripples beneath my touch.
“Mhm.” He sucks on his bottom lip and my cock twitches. He’s got me feeling like a damn teenager with this high libido. I’m growing as insatiable as him. Was he always like this? Has Stacey experienced him this way? Jealousy tugs at my chest and then I remember where he is now—with me.
“Showering with you isn’t so bad either.” Spinning him around, I back him into the wall, rocking into his hard length. His mouth fuses over mine and I line my cock up better with his, thrusting my hips. Using my hand, I hold us in place and we both move together, moaning into each other’s mouths.
We writhe against each other, kisses as sloppy and off-kilter as the rhythm of our bodies. Silas lets out a gasp, lips parting around mine, and I roll my fingers, building the perfect momentum. The friction between our skin creates wonderful sparks, striking a fire in the pit of my stomach. Spiraling out of control, my orgasm takes hold of me, leaving me feeling weightless as I coat my hand and our stomachs with white stripes.
Silas lifts his hips one more time, grinding against me as a blissful smile spreads across his face. He comes on a silent cry, lashes fluttering and skin flushed a pretty pink. “Yeah, I really like showering with you.”
I laugh, brushing my lips over his, and I drag him back under the water with me. We rinse off, unable to keep our hands off each other. He’s so damn touch starved and my body can’t ignore his requests, needing to fulfill them every time.
“Ready to go pack everything up and head back? Or am I taking you somewhere else?”
“No. I need to get my meds and a few more things from my house. If you have somewhere to be, I can always grab an Uber to my mom’s.”
My lips bunch together and I shut off the water, reaching for his hand. “No. I don’t have to be at the bookstore until tomorrow and I have someone handling things at the restaurant for me now. He’ll call if he needs anything.”
“New manager?” He snatches the towel from the bar beside us, rubbing over his backside first.
“Yeah.” I dry off too, pushing back the curtain when I see no one else is in the bathroom. “It’s taken a huge load off me having him there.” I lock the door and step in front of the mirror, pulling out my deodorant.
“That’s good. I go back to work tomorrow too. I’m going to start back full time again this week.”
“Oh yeah? That’s awesome. You excited?”
His eyes light up and he sets his towel on mine. “Yeah.” His clothes are resting on the counter and he steps around me to get to them. “I think it’ll be good for me overall, and I miss being around the flowers.”
“You look really happy whenever you’re talking about them.”
“They’re one of the few things that kept me going during rough days. It was pretty shattering when I had to take leave and didn’t have the energy to go into our garden outside.” Hurt flashes in his eyes like a passing storm.
“What else kept you going, aside from flowers and books?”
“Books were an obvious one, huh?” He slips on his shirt and steps into his shorts, looking pensive. “Music and slasher films.”
My eyes widen as I pause mid-dress. “Slasher films, huh? Didn’t see that one coming.”
His head waves back and forth. “I mean, I snuck some comedies in there a few times but yeah, slashers were what called to me the most. The cheesy corny ones from the early nineties are the best too.”
“I did really enjoy Scream and I Know What You Did Last Summer when I saw them in the theater. I didn’t really watch too many movies after meeting Landon, though.”
“Why not?” His brows rise and his hip rests against the sink.
“I don’t know actually. We just didn’t. Not at the theater or at home. Landon liked rock climbing, going on cruises, snuggling in front of the fire while talking, and cooking for friends.”
“We should go see one then.”
“Today?” My voice rises a little.
“Only if you want. Unless you’re tired of me already.” He leans in closer, tugging on his bottom lip with his teeth.
“Not even a little.” I capture his mouth with mine, kissing him softly before stepping back to put away my toiletries. “What do you want to see?”
“We can decide when we get there. Whatever draws our attention first. Doesn’t have to be anything scary. It’s been a while since I’ve snuck in a rom com.” He slides his hand closer to mine.
“I’ll see anything with you. Can be scary, sad, or funny. Doesn’t matter to me. I doubt I’ll be paying much attention anyway, with you sitting so close by.” I twitch my lips and he barks out a laugh.
I’m right too, at least for the first twenty minutes or so. After we get popcorn, candy, and Slurpees, we find our seats, and I’ve already forgotten what we chose to see when he rests his head on my shoulder. Our hands come in contact several times when we reach into the popcorn bag, and Silas lifts the arm rest to snuggle into me closer.
Laughing and smiling at the screen, he tangles his fingers with mine. I look around the theater before laying a kiss on him, my tongue brushing over his as I invade more of his mouth. When we break a part, I swing an arm around him, dragging him closer, and he goes back to watching the movie.
I do too for a while, and then my attention is pulled back to him. To how he responds to devastating, passionate, and happy moments. He’s so expressive with his emotions, letting me see more of who he is. When he feels, he feels hard. It’s right in his eyes. How they harden one moment and soften the next. Sometimes there are tears and others there’s a blank stare while he holds his breath.
He squeezes my hand, scooting closer to the edge of his seat, and I follow his gaze so I can experience all this with him. I forgot how much I liked going to the movies. Landon had to be moving all the time, and I was always happy to catch up with him, but sometimes it’s nice to sit still. Especially when you’re doing it with good company.
When the credits roll Silas’s grip loosens around my fingers and his smile lights up the dark theater. Standing from our seats, we dispose of our trash as we exit.
“That was really good. The perfect mixture of funny and moving. I haven’t cried during a movie in a long time.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever cried during one,” I say back, steering us toward a door that leads right out to the parking lot.
“Not once?” He loops his arm in mine, following me through a line of cars.
I shake my head. “Not that I can recall. I’m not much of a crier, though. I think I can count on one hand the amount of times I’ve shed a single tear or more.”
“I probably cry more than I should,” he says between chuckles. “I’m a very emotional person, and sometimes it’s over the most random things, like Nationwide commercials.”
I smile, stopping when we reach the car. “I had a nice time. That movie wasn’t so bad either. You have alright taste.”
“You suggested the movie first,” he reminds me, separating his arm from mine.
“I guess I did. But if you liked it so much, that must mean in your eyes I have impeccable taste.”
He rolls his eyes, stepping closer to lift himself up on his toes and kiss me. I close my eyes, leaning in, wrapping my hand around his head to intensify the kiss. Our lips always align so perfectly, and I get so lost in his warmth I forget where we are until loud honking breaks us apart.
“We gotta pick better places to make out.”
He huffs out a laugh. “Probably need to do that for other things we do too. I think we’re getting a little better.”
“Either that or just lucky.”
“Could be both.” He circles the car, waiting for me to open the doors. When I do, we both slide in and he looks at his phone.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” he says, with a little hesitation in his voice. “It’s only my mom seeing if I’m still coming over. I told her I’ll be there later today.”
“To your house, then? Or do you want to stop and grab food first?”
“We can grab food and eat at my house. I don’t think me being gone will lead to Stacey being home more.”
“She’s on the schedule to work today and no one’s called me to tell me she didn’t make it in,” I say reassuringly.
A muscle jumps in his throat. “Really? Then I guess my plan works out then. Worst case scenario, I can hide you in the laundry room again,” he lifts his eyes to mine and raises a brow, and that pulls a laugh from me.
I stop by the first place we reach after leaving the theater parking lot, ordering us burgers and fries to go. Silas sneaks a few fries into his mouth before we reach his neighborhood, and I park down the street again to be on the safe side.
“You sure about me going inside?”
“Yeah.” He licks his lips, reaching for the door handle. “I’m sure. Better than you waiting out here freaking out my neighbors. They might start to think we have a neighborhood stalker soon.”
I wave him off, flicking my eyes. “I guess I do fit the look with my dark clothes and ominous personality.”
Shaking his head and laughing, he steps out onto the sidewalk with the food in his hands and I follow him to his house, holding everything while he unlocks the door. All lights are off when we step inside, the air a little warm and the living room empty. Silas flips a switch and we walk to the connecting kitchen. Setting down the food, he looks around, pausing on the heart-shaped post-it notes on the fridge.
Letting out a long breath, he separates the paper on top from the rest, his eyes roaming over the tiny words. “She wants me to stay.”
“What?” I take two steps closer to him, not wanting to invade too much of his space.
He looks at me with heavy eyes, crumpling the note in his fist. “She said if I come by the house again to consider staying, that she’ll drop everything if I message her, and that she’s here and not going anywhere.”
“Are you going to?” My words cut at my throat on the way out.
His lips turn inward and he shakes his head, turning toward the counter and walking back to where the food is. “No. She had all this time to leave me a note like this. To choose me first. Why now, when she’s worried about losing me to someone else? Why did she ever let it get to this? We can’t just go back to how we were. Not after all we’ve destroyed.”
“I can understand that. I know it’s not an easy choice to make.”
“I worry if we keep trying to make something work that’s beyond repair, then we’ll lose each other all together. I don’t want that. I still see her as my best friend.”
I stand behind him, squeezing his shoulder, knowing he needs more of a sympathetic ear than someone to offer him advice. Not that I have any. I was never the guy people ran to when they had an issue they couldn’t work out alone, and there was a reason for that. I’m not good with this sort of stuff. I have a hard enough time figuring out solutions to my own problems as it is.
“Let’s eat.” He finally speaks again, rummaging in the paper bags. He sets out my food first and then what remains of his.
Neither of us stop watching the door as we eat, waiting for Stacey to barge in at any minute the way she did last time. She never does. Not while he’s packing a bag or searching the cabinets for his meds. I browse his bookshelf and movie selection while I wait, the huge shelf of VHS tapes catching my interest.
A smile breaks across my face and I pull out each one. There must be at least a hundred here. There’s a mixture of horror and thrillers from the 80s, 90s, and early 2000s. After placing Scream and January Man back in their rightful places, I circle around the living room. As I’m about to walk toward the large woven basket full of colorful skeins of yarn, fast-approaching footsteps have me coming to a halt.
“Ready to go?” Silas lifts his bag higher on his shoulder.
“You crochet?”
“Yeah. Mainly lopsided sweaters and uneven scarves. I did, however, make some bomb-ass potholders and dishcloths.”
I let out a half-hearted chuckle. “Oh yeah? I bet you have piles in like every drawer in the house too, huh?”
“Pretty much. Drove Stacey crazy.” He looks down. “Then again, not much I’ve done hasn’t.”
I grab his hand, squeezing his fingers. “I can always use more washcloths.”
The corners or his lips twitch and he breaks away from me, taking a step back. “I can always give some more away. Wait here.”
He takes off toward the stairwell, quickly rushing up the steps. Ten minutes later, he returns holding a small stack of crocheted squares. Two blue and three white with pink in the center. “You don’t really have to take them if you don’t want to.” He twists them at the corners.
“I think they’re perfect.” I collect them from his hands, running my fingers over the small holes. “Thank you.”
“You might not say that when you get one of those sweaters I was talking about for Christmas.”
I smile. “I’m actually looking forward to it.”
Blushing, his lips shift into a small grin, and when his phone vibrates, he groans. “We better get going. My mom’s texted me ten times since we’ve been here. Doesn’t matter if I’ve already told her I’ll be there soon, it’s clearly not soon enough.”
“She’s worried.”
“Yeah. She’s been worse ever since I got better. Everyone has. I was so ready to be treated like everyone else, only to realize that might never happen. I’m still not as well as they want me to be.”
“You look perfectly fine to me.” Inching closer, I caress his cheek.
His bottom lip trembles and I press my mouth gently to his, shoving my tongue alongside his. My hand snakes around his face and I kiss him deeper, thrusting faster into his mouth until we both have to pull apart for air.
“We really should go,” he says, voice hoarse.
“You mean before I have you naked in your kitchen again?”
“Yes, or somewhere worse.”
“You mean your and your wife’s bed?”
“I . . .” He fumbles his words. “I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to. You think so loudly sometimes, there isn’t a need for words.”
He licks his lips, swallowing hard. “That’s an awful thing to think.”
“Tell me, Sunshine, has anyone ever made love to you in your bed before?”
His voice shifts as if he’s thinking long and hard about it. “We . . . I . . . No. The couch was always easier for me to get to, and Stacey has been too scared to touch me in that way for the last four years. And ever since the surgery, I’ve slept there mostly alone. We have opposite sleeping schedules.”
“You ever wonder what it would be like to be spread out over that mattress while having your hole eaten out or cock sucked?”
His breaths stutter. “I’d never wondered about those things at all until you, and now it’ll be all I think about. Everywhere we are. I don’t think about limits or rules when we’re together and I should.”
“Not always. Not when that’s what you lived by for most of your life. Not when you don’t have to. It’s only us here. Tell me what you want.”
He looks behind him and back at me. “For you to fuck me in my bed.”
“Not only your bed. Your and your wife’s bed. Where she now sleeps without you.” I don’t know why this keeps happening to me. Primal urges take over, and even though he’s been with me these last few days, I want to prove that I’m all he wants while we’re in their home too.
“Elijah . . .” His words trail off.
“That’s what it is, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, but . . . it feels wrong.”
“What else does it feel?”
“Like a decision that’s mine to make, and something that no longer feels impossible like it once did.”
“Let me help you make it more possible. It’s something you’ve deserved to have all this time. I want to show you.” I also want to leave a trail of us behind, hoping she can tell we were there, that I had him in the bed where she’ll never have a chance to again. It’s crazy, possessive, and a little fucked up, but I don’t think she’s been as innocent as she’s pretended to be either. She has dirty secrets of her own that will come out soon enough, and she keeps trying to trap him in a place he no longer wants to be.
I want to say he belongs with me, but as much as half of my heart is screaming for him to be, the other is not sure it’s the right time. It’s too soon for many reasons. It’s really important for him to be on his own for a little while and to not feel like he needs to depend on another person all the time. I also need to not depend on whatever this is to keep me from forgetting about all the pain I’ve been pretending I no longer have when he’s here.
We both have a lot to figure out and work on, but right now I need him to be mine.
“Okay,” he finally says, backing up toward the stairs. “Show me.”
Pressing my mouth to his, I guide him up the stairs, nearly tripping us several times before we finally reach the top. We’re both in a fit of laughter as we stumble into the room, tearing off one another’s clothes. Panting and making our way to the bed, our mouths don’t separate for long. His tongue is ferocious and dominating as he pushes me back on the bed, falling on top of me, his cock brushing hard over mine.
His warm body presses harder to mine, his hips grinding and tip leaking. I slide a hand down his back, grazing his hips with the other before rubbing a finger between his cheeks. I don’t know what will happen tomorrow or the next day. I don’t know if we’ll ever be more than two people needing a distraction, or someone for the other to lean on during the hard days, but he’s making it so damn hard for me to continue questioning anything. Especially when our colliding bodies, shared breaths, and limbs intertwining feel like fucking everything.