Starts With a Bang (Redemption Ridge #7)

Chapter Eight

Dom

“S top spying through the window, and come enjoy the fire,” Dad said. “Everything is fine.”

I reluctantly turned away from the back of the house. The warmth from the brick oven tempted me, but I’d rather stand in the cold shadows and keep an eye on Sven. “I’m not so sure about that.” My guy had a murderous expression on his face and a sharp knife in his hand.

My guy. I liked the sound of it so much it scared me. Between my failed marriage and the cynical nature of my job, it felt like a Christmas miracle that I could even consider taking a chance on love again. But Sven made me believe, and I didn’t want to waste precious time twisting hope into doom. It was easier to expect the worst in someone because then you wouldn’t be disappointed when things went sideways. That was no way to live. Hell, that wasn’t living at all; it was barely existing. How had I let such a limited worldview become my norm?

I halted and turned to look into the kitchen again. The pendant lights above the island acted as a spotlight, showcasing Sven in all his beauty. And not just his looks. It was the way he held himself, the confident way he moved, and the joy he brought to those around him. Well, maybe not Emerson with his scrunched nose and grim mouth, but he didn’t count. Nana tilted her head back and laughed at something Sven said, and he beamed like he’d won the lottery. Mom and Christian turned from their tasks with smiles on their faces too. They both contributed to the conversation before continuing their tasks. Everyone looked relaxed and happy. Except Emerson.

He looked up suddenly as if sensing my presence. I didn’t think he could see me from where I stood in the shadows, and it didn’t matter if he did. He’d only been a side note in my observations while Sven had been the center of them. If Emerson had mistaken my presence and intentions, then I’d happily set him straight. That would require me to speak to him, but that was inevitable anyway. Ignoring him and Christian would only make my family feel worse, and it could give my ex a false sense of importance in the narrative of my life. He could mistake my silent treatment as pining or jealousy all he wanted. I thought of the brief but powerful interlude I’d shared with Sven in our room and smiled. Emerson would be so wrong. He was nothing but an asterisk and a footnote in my life story. I wanted Sven to be the main plot, my leading man, and the theme that summed up my life. Damn, I had it bad.

“Sven can handle himself,” Uncle John declared as I joined him and Dad.

“That’s what I’m worried about. And Sven hates the color orange.”

“Why?” John asked.

“He says it’s the only color that doesn’t look good on him,” I replied.

“No, I wanted to know why it’s a consideration,” my uncle explained.

“It’s the standard color of uniform used in jails and prisons these days.”

My remark earned some chuckles, but I wasn’t kidding. Sven had already threatened to cut a bitch.

“He’s good people,” Dad said. He used the fire poker to move the wood around a bit before setting it down and clasping me on the shoulder. “I’m happy for you.”

“I am too,” John said. “The thing that happened between you, Emerson, and Christian was a nasty business.”

“John,” Dad warned.

My uncle held up his hand. “I need to say some things that are long overdue. I don’t agree with the way our family handled the situation. We all chose sides, regrouped to our corners, and came out swinging like prize fighters.”

Dad nodded. “Then we stopped talking at all. We buried our heads in the sand and pretended the others didn’t exist.”

John turned away from the fire and looked at me. “For what it’s worth, I am truly sorry you got hurt. And I regret any part Christian played in it. I should’ve said so when it happened. I was too busy trying to shelter my son instead of holding him accountable for his actions.” John looked at the house. “He claimed things didn’t happen the way you thought they did.” He held up his hands to signal peace. “And I don’t know the truth, but I know Christian has missed you every day of your absence. I sometimes think he only puts up with Emerson’s bullshit because he’s the last connection he has to you. A breakup also means he lost you for nothing. Chris has always loved you like a brother, and if this farce of a holiday affords him even a few minutes to speak with you, then I guess I will suck it up and not be the Grinch.”

Uncle John caught me off guard and left me momentarily speechless. I swallowed down the lump in my throat. I wanted to promise to hear Christian out, but I didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up. “Thank you, Uncle John. That means a lot to me.”

He nodded and clapped my other shoulder before looking at my dad. “The fire looks good. Are we ready to give this a try, Dominic?”

“Ready as we’ll ever be.” He studied the flames a little longer. “We should probably test out a simple pizza to work out the kinks before we get to the good stuff.”

“I’ll go in and put something together,” I volunteered.

“You just want to get back to your man,” Dad teased.

“Guilty.” Why deny it? “You guys coming in to get refills, or would you like me to bring out the next round when I return with the test dummy pizza?”

“I’ll go inside and see if your mom needs help,” Dad said.

“I’ll monitor the fire,” John replied. “But I’ll take a beer when you come back out.”

“Sure thing, Uncle John.”

A wave of heat rolled over me when I stepped through the back door, and not because of the temperature shift. The sensation came from the look in Sven’s eyes when they connected with mine. His gorgeous mouth curved into a Cheshire-like grin because Sven knew he had me where he wanted me, or at least he would once we escaped to our bedroom.

“So you’re a hairstylist, huh?” Emerson asked snidely.

My ex had unwittingly lobbed an insult he would soon regret. If I’d harbored a single ounce of love for him, I might’ve tried to deflect or absorb some of the hell Sven was about to unleash on him. Instead, I snatched a few green pepper rings from the pile in front of Sven. I kissed him square on the mouth before settling against the island next to him. I leaned toward Nana and said, “Watch this.”

She snagged a pepper ring from my hand. “This is a piss-poor substitute for popcorn, but it will have to do. We can’t very well pause live entertainment.”

I noticed Mom and Christian had turned from the counter. The earlier joy I’d witnessed in their expressions was gone. Chris looked worried, and Mom was pissed. She met my gaze, and I could tell she wanted to interfere, but I shook my head slightly. Dad snagged a handful of shredded cheese and settled against the counter next to Mom, looping an arm around her shoulders to either hold her back or give comfort. She smiled up at him and relaxed.

“I am a hairstylist,” Sven said calmly. “Is that a problem for you?”

Emerson screwed his facial features into mock surprise. “A problem? Of course not. It takes all kinds of people and careers to make the world go round.” Emerson sighed heavily. “Some pursuits are cliché and perpetuate stereotypes that are harmful to the queer community.”

Sven sat up straighter. “Harmful? I make my clients, mostly women, feel good about themselves. Sometimes they sit in my chair during the hardest times of their lives. Divorces, deaths, career struggles, illnesses, battles with infertility. I listen as they vent about feeling unappreciated or underserved in a world that sees them as inferior. Most of them are battling exhaustion from raising kids and trying to be everything to everyone. My salon chair is a safe place for them to get it all out. They literally let their hair down and unburden their souls. I’m more than a student of hairstyle trends. I’m a friend, an ally, and an amateur therapist who cheers them up. My one goal is to make sure there’s an extra pep in their step when they leave the salon, and I have never failed. I do home visits for those who struggle to get out, and I make rounds at the senior facilities. Do you have any idea how many women have asked me to make sure they look perfect for their funerals? Do you know how hard that is? Most stylists won’t do it, but I’ve learned from the best.”

“Lucinda,” Mom said.

Sven smiled at her. “Yes.”

“Who’s that, dear?” Nana asked.

“My stepmother,” Sven told her. “She was so kind to my mom when she was sick. It probably seems weird to some, but my mom knew that Lucinda would be the one to see me grow up. And Lucinda wanted to assure my mom that I would be in excellent hands. She turned our living room into a home spa. I’ll never forget the blissful expression on my mom’s face after Lucinda’s careful pampering sessions.” Sven looked at Emerson. “I’m proud of my career path. You might think I’m a cliché or a sellout, but that says more about you than it does me.”

Emerson at least had the good sense to look contrite. “I’m sorry about your mother.”

“Thanks,” Sven said.

I could tell he wanted to say more, but he returned his attention to slicing peppers. He glanced over and saw that I’d eaten the pilfered rings and handed me a few more with a wink.

Uncle John opened the back door and poked his head in. “I’m freezing my nuts off out here. Where’s the pizza and my beer?”

“No one told me you were ready,” Mom said. She nudged Dad with her elbow as if he were solely responsible. She carefully transferred the pizza dough to a large paddle and carried it over to the island. “Who wants to go first?”

I told her we’d decided to do a test run to assess our skills before we wasted a lot of toppings.

“You’re so smart,” she said, patting my cheek.

“It was my idea,” Dad protested.

“My bad.” Mom wrapped her arms around his middle and kissed him. “You’re so wise.”

“Married you, didn’t I?”

Sven leaned toward me. “Are they always this cute?”

“Yes,” Nana, John, and Christian replied.

“Well, I see where you get your charm,” Sven told me.

“You’re the only person on the planet who’d accuse me of being charming,” I told him.

“Got that right,” Emerson muttered.

Sven tensed and was prepared to give my ex a good verbal beatdown, but I winked to let him know the barb hadn’t landed. In fact, it seemed like a good time to end the silent treatment I’d started when I moved out of the house I’d shared with Emerson.

“I’m right when it counts,” I said, staring into Sven’s gorgeous blue eyes. The energy pulsing between us was a drumbeat in my ear. “Want to help me make a test pizza?”

“I’d love to.” Sven grabbed the pizza paddle and slid it toward us. “This better not have come from your parents’ tickle trunk,” he whispered.

The notion made me shudder. I leaned down and pressed my lips to his ear. “You’re going to pay for that,” I whispered.

I should’ve known Sven would turn a simple pizza assembly into an art form. He ladled sauce into the center of the dough and spread it out with a spoon, smoothing and adjusting until it formed an even layer of red over the surface. And then he started on the cheese distribution, which took almost as long to get right.

“This could take a while,” Nana said.

Sven smiled but didn’t look up from dusting the pizza with a blend of Italian herbs. “You can’t rush perfection.” He raised his head and met Emerson’s gaze, even though he hadn’t been the one to comment. “And I take great care of the people and things that mean a lot to me.”

Bright pink splotches bloomed across Emerson’s cheeks, and he narrowed his eyes. I could see the moment a biting reply formed on his tongue, but my ex looked in my direction before he released it. I’d let him get away with whatever he’d wanted during our marriage. It had truly been the Emerson Baker-Babb show, but I hadn’t realized it until the damage was done to my psyche. My expression let him know he would not get away with that bullshit any longer. Not that Sven needed me to stick up for him. Emerson dropped his gaze, and Sven reached for the pepperoni.

“I thought we would just do a cheese pizza to make sure we get the crust right first,” I told him.

“It might be a good idea to see how the brick oven responds when the grease from the fattier toppings drip down into the fire,” Sven suggested. “We might have to adjust how much wood we’re using.”

“That’s a fantastic idea,” Dad said.

Sven formed a heart with the pepperoni slices and slid his masterpiece to me. “For you.”

Our eyes met and held. I was once again struck by how poignant the moment felt. Sven had laid more than a pepperoni heart bare. It was a symbol of what I could have if I were brave enough. Our surroundings faded away until the kitchen island felt like a center stage, with the bright pendant lights acting as spotlights. But we weren’t actors going off a script. This was real life—his and mine. I cupped his neck and lowered my head for a soft kiss.

“I’ll take exceptional care of it.”

Sven smiled dreamily. “I know you will.”

“Want to come with me to fire the pizza?” I asked.

“I thought I got to play with the oven,” Dad whined from somewhere in the shadowy background. The pout in his voice made Sven smile. We didn’t acknowledge him otherwise, but Mom hushed him.

“Absolutely,” Sven said. “I better grab my coat.”

I moved so he could slide off the stool. And the rest of the kitchen and its inhabitants came back into focus as soon as Sven’s feet hit the floor. I chuckled and rubbed the back of my neck. “Sorry. The world often disappears when we’re together.”

Mom clutched her heart and melted on the spot. John looked amused, while Dad and Christian looked happy for me. I didn’t bother checking Emerson’s reaction. Sourness rolled from his direction, and I wouldn’t let its stench ruin my mood.

I swatted Sven’s pert backside playfully and said, “You won’t need a coat. Just grab a throw blanket off the back of the couch.” Then I grabbed the pizza paddle off the island and looked at my guy. “Ready to test your skills?”

He clapped his hands together and rubbed them vigorously. “Oh boy!”

“I’m coming too,” John said.

“And me,” Dad called out.

The four of us headed outside, where I ceremoniously presented the pizza paddle to my dad. “With this privilege comes great responsibility. Can you handle it?”

Dad snorted and shook his head as he took the paddle from me. “I knew that damn speech was going to come back and bite me in the ass someday.” He looked both irritated and impressed. “You’ve kept that on ice for twenty-two years.”

“Sure have.”

Sven joined me with a throw blanket wrapped around his shoulders. It was gray, chunky, and inviting. “What’s happening here?”

“It’s the same speech I gave Dom when he got his driver’s license,” Dad said. “He’s been biding his time to use it on me.”

Sven met my gaze. The moonlight turned his dark blue eyes into sparkling gems. “Is that true?”

I smiled and kissed his upturned lips. “I can be extremely patient.”

It’s how I survived tedious stakeouts, combing through proverbial haystacks to find the needles and putting all the pieces together to form complete pictures. But my patience could be a hindrance—a crutch to lean on—when I should really throttle down. Like with Sven. I should’ve never waited two years to make another move on him. And I sure as hell shouldn’t have procrastinated coming clean with Kerry all this time. I had some mending to do, but one of those would have to wait. Tugging the blanket off Sven, I wrapped it around my shoulders and opened my arms in invitation. Sven stepped into me and buried his nose against my chest. I wrapped us in the soft cocoon, and the world faded away again.

And as it turned out, my patience came in handy throughout the rest of the evening. Dad’s test pizza turned out great and only required a few adjustments to the process. We built several more pizzas, ranging from meat lovers to veggie lovers and everything in between. We sampled each new pizza when it came out of the oven instead of waiting until they were all baked. Some were bigger hits than others, but none of them were duds. And the energy in the house was high but good. Maybe Aunt Janet had been onto something with her idea, and I thought it was a real shame that she was missing out. Mom had gone to check on her, but she was asleep, as John had predicted.

I’d hoped that the pizza experiment would be the end of the festivities for our first night. We’d navigated some tense moments but had gotten through them without fighting. Why not end the night on a high note? Mostly, I wanted to get Sven naked and under me. I even volunteered for kitchen cleanup duties to speed things along. My mom had a different idea. She’d found a closet full of games when she scoped out the chateau on arrival, and Emerson, the asshat, encouraged the idea. He’d never liked board games, and I knew his response was retribution when he suggested we play Monopoly. I grudgingly played along and was glad I had when Sven bankrupted his ass in record time.

John, who’d made a fortune as a financier, was impressed. “I think you should come work for me. You’d make a killing.”

“Thank you, but no,” Sven said. “I enjoy overseeing my investment portfolio, but I have no desire to advise others.”

Enthusiasm for family game night waned once the next person fell to Sven’s superior skills, and I capitalized on their low energy with an exaggerated yawn, an arm stretch, and a head roll. I thought I’d carried off the act well, but I caught my parents smirking and elbowing each other.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Emerson snarled from the sofa he’d retired to after losing. “Take your lover to bed already.”

It could’ve been awkward if we let it, but I pushed back from the table and extended my hand to Sven.

He took it and stood up. “Thanks for a fun evening,” Sven said.

“Good night, everyone,” I called out over my shoulder.

Sven’s carnal expression made my heart pound hard enough to drown out their responses and my own insecurities. He wanted raw and honest reactions from me, not staged performances. Sven’s eagerness became even clearer once we were alone in the room. He had his sweater up and over his head before I closed the door.

“Whoa!” I moved in and captured Sven’s hands before he could unbutton his jeans. “Half the pleasure comes from undressing you and revealing your stunning body.”

“Oops. My bad.” He bent to reach for his sweater, but I stopped him again.

“Let’s not get crazy.”

I pulled Sven into my arms and captured his lips in a slow, sensual kiss. The urge to devour arose, but I swatted it down like a pesky gnat. The orgasm Sven had given me earlier took enough of the edge off so I could enjoy and savor every inch of him. I released his lips and moved my mouth over his neck, kissing and nipping the sensitive skin there. Sven practically purred like a kitten when I kissed my way down to the curve of his neck. I sank my teeth into his tendon, and he moaned loudly.

“Oops,” he whispered. “I’ll try to be quieter.”

“Since when?” I teased as I went to work on his button and zipper.

Sven chuckled and angled his head to give me more access to his neck.

I took a hint and returned my mouth there. “I don’t want you holding back,” I said between kisses. An awkward family breakfast was the furthest thing from my mind. I nipped his jaw and trailed my tongue over his bottom lip. “I want you just as you are.”

Sven reached for the hem of my sweater, and I raised my arms to help him remove it. The urge to suck in my gut was strong until Sven growled low in his throat and stroked my belly. “My Grizz.”

Sven swiped his tongue over my nipple, and my train of thought shattered into a million pieces. He liked my reaction and did it again. I cupped the back of his head, and he sucked the hardening bud into his mouth. Trailing my free hand around his waist, I gripped his sweet ass and hauled him even closer. I couldn’t get enough of him and wouldn’t be satisfied until I was finally inside him. Two years of pining turned a swirling eddy of desire into a tsunami of need that threatened to override everything else. But my patience persisted.

We kissed and touched for a long time, pausing long enough to kick off our shoes and remove our socks before getting on the bed. As much as I wanted to strip off our jeans, it would test the limits of my control. Sven was bare beneath his denim, and my thin underwear wouldn’t offer much barrier to protect me from myself. I tucked Sven under my body, making myself right at home between his spread thighs. His hands roamed up and down my back, grabbed my ass, and slid under my waistband. He thrust up into me, rubbing his erection against mine. But my patience persisted.

I worked my mouth down his torso, nipping and kissing as I went. Having Sven’s dick in my mouth once already wasn’t enough. I needed to taste him again. And maybe I wanted to drive him to the edge of insanity, like he did me. I unbuttoned his jeans and pulled the zipper down enough to expose the head of his dick. I tongued him there until his hips bucked, and he yanked my hair. His eagerness was evident in his verbal cries and his salty essence on my tongue.

“Is this what you meant when you said you’d make me pay?” Sven asked breathlessly.

I remembered saying those words but couldn’t remember why or what I’d intended. That he felt punished was enough. I raised my head just enough to make eye contact. “Just getting started.”

And I meant it. I unzipped a half inch at a time and paused to lick the revealed flesh before continuing down. I didn’t rush the process, no matter how often Sven cursed me or yanked my hair. He was good and crazed by the time I worked his jeans down to his upper thighs, and so was I.

“Don’t make me come yet,” Sven pleaded. “I want you inside me.”

I wanted that too, so I abandoned his dick to lick and suck his balls and taint. While blowing against his pucker, I debated rimming Sven within an inch of his life. But I’d already worked myself into a frenzy. I eased away from Sven enough to pull his jeans down his long, toned legs and remove the rest of my clothes.

“Are the condoms and lube still in your bag?” I asked.

Sven’s gaze was locked on my jutting erection, and I didn’t think he’d heard me until he pointed to the nightstand. He blinked and met my gaze. “It’s the only thing I unpacked so far.”

“Priorities,” I teased as I opened the drawer. There were even more condoms than he’d shown me. “You packed enough for us to be stranded here for months.”

Sven snorted. “That might be true if you hadn’t edged me for two fucking years.” He jerked his head toward the drawer. “Suit up and slick up. Tonight, you ride.”

“Yes, sir.”

Sven’s eyes watched my every move as I rolled the condom on and smeared lube up and down my shaft. He pulled his knees back to his chest, exposing his hole as I climbed back onto the bed. His pucker flexed when I drizzled the cool liquid over it, and Sven gasped when I massaged the lubricant into his sensitive rim.

“Two fingers,” he demanded. “Let’s go.”

My cock throbbed, and I knew I wouldn’t last long once I was inside him. I needed Sven to be just as wild and ready as I was. Ignoring his instructions, I played with his opening, only slipping one finger in. I watched the flush spread over his face as I worked it in and out. I moved into position and propped his ankles on my shoulders, but I kept toying with his hole. On the next thrust, I curled my finger and pegged his prostate.

Sven cried out and undulated his hips. “Dick.”

“Are you demanding my cock or cursing at me?”

“Get that thick dick inside me now,” Sven clarified. “And, yes, you’re acting dick-ish.”

I threw him a bone—not the one he wanted—and added a second finger. I alternated between pegging his prostate and massaging it. Sven’s eyes turned desperate as his dick pulsed and drooled.

“Please,” he begged.

I kissed the inside of his knee and removed my fingers from his ass. We locked gazes as I lined the head of my dick to his hole and pushed inside him. Sven’s mouth opened on a silent cry, and my breath caught in my throat. I was desperate to bury myself inside him, but he was so tight, and I refused to hurt him.

“Okay?” I rasped.

Sven shook his head. “Not enough.” He reached up and cupped my face. “Give me all of you.” And I knew he meant more than my cock.

I turned my face and kissed his palm. Then I gave him what we both wanted. I let down my defenses and sank all the way home, pausing so he could adjust to my girth.

Sven lowered his legs to my waist and crossed his ankles above my ass. “Come down here and kiss me.”

I covered his body with mine and captured his lips in a smoldering kiss. Sven, who’d probably never followed someone else’s lead a day in his life, rutted beneath me, rubbing his dick against my stomach and riding my cock in shallow bursts. My resistance broke. I pulled back and snapped my hips forward. Sven’s eyes rolled back in his head, and my articulate man muttered gibberish. His entire body tensed, signaling he was close to orgasm, so I pulled out and thrust back in. Harder this time. Hot cum jetted against my stomach, and my control snapped. I rutted inside Sven, milking every drop from him while chasing my orgasm. Then I buried my dick to the hilt and followed him over the edge.

Sven held my face in both hands and watched me lose myself inside him. I couldn’t close my eyes or look away. He wanted to see every raw emotion, and I gave it to him. He pulled me down on top of him when the last shudder ebbed, and we clung to one another until our breathing eased. I worried my weight was too much, but Sven tightened his legs around me every time I tried to move.

“We have to clean up sometime,” I teased. “We’ll be stuck together if we’re not careful.”

He sighed and released me. “I don’t want you to lose a single belly or chest hair on my account.”

I eased my dick out of him and rolled to his side. My legs weren’t ready to support me yet. I looked down at my torso and tried to see myself through his eyes. Any definition I used to have from playing sports or working out was gone. I struggled to believe Sven, who could have anyone he wanted, found me sexy. A niggle of doubt wormed its way into my afterglow. Kerry had said that Sven loved a project. Was that how he saw me? I closed my eyes and exhaled. Nope. Not going there.

“That heavy sigh sounded ominous,” Sven said.

I opened my eyes and met his worried gaze. “Traitorous thoughts trying to ruin this magical moment.”

“Is it so hard to believe this is real?”

“It’s becoming easier every minute.” I leaned forward and kissed his lips. “That’s what makes it scary. If this was fake, there would be nothing to risk. We could screw around and go our separate ways. But I don’t want that.”

Sven rested his hand on my cheek. “I don’t either.”

“I want the real thing with you.” Admitting it out loud was scary as hell. My heart was in my throat, even though Sven had already confessed to having deeper feelings for me.

“You don’t know how happy that makes me.” Sven kissed me with a tenderness that stole my breath. He pulled away and searched my eyes. “Believing might not come easily, but someday, you will trust me with your heart. I won’t ever let you down.”

The truth of his words shone in his steady gaze. Nothing I received for Christmas that year could top the present that Sven gave me.