Chapter 18 #2
“No, listen. I know you think I’m being a smartass and downplaying danger, but baby…I’m a survivor. I’ve been through hell. They couldn’t hurt me if they tried. Not like I hurt me.”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I tortured myself for years. Years. I was the black sheep in a loving Catholic family. Do you have any idea how brutal it is to go to church and be told every Sunday that I was a sinner, shaking in my boots that someone would figure me out? Gay was a slur. Gay was weakness. Gay was unholy, wrong, and I was going to hell. Twelve-year-old me sweated bullets every night, praying like crazy that I’d wake up interested in Jessica Frawley’s boobs. It never happened.
“My teenage years were agony, Rob. Agony. I know you know what that’s like.
I played a part like an actor in a never-ending movie.
I dated girls and went through the motions like everyone else.
I followed my script to a tee, so much so that I avoided openly gay kids.
I was afraid of them. Big football player, big tough guy scared one of them might guess the truth and give me away.
I lived in fear every fucking day. It was a painful, ugly period, and it scarred me.
“There’s something in me now that’s a little too hard, a little too angry, a little too mean…
and I know it. But I’m in a better headspace now than I ever was.
Sure, I should probably think about getting a big-boy apartment and working less hours, but…
I’ll get there. And yeah, I have regrets that will haunt me forever, but I’m not ashamed to be gay.
No one can hurt me with the truth, ’cause I own it.
So I guess that’s a long-winded way of telling you that if ESPN, People, and Time magazine want to write my story, I’m all for it.
I hope I’d get a chance to tell any kids who might read it to hang in there and never fucking give up. ”
Rob’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. He squeezed my hand again and brought it to his lips.
His face crumpled a moment later and a horrible, gut-wrenching sob escaped.
I stood abruptly and pulled him into my arms. I kissed his face and whispered platitudes in English and Italian as he wept.
Our height difference made for an awkward embrace, but it made us hold on a little tighter.
Rob stepped aside, brushing tears as he moved into the living room and collapsed on the sofa, head in hands. I sat quietly and waited for him to speak.
“I didn’t think I’d be so shook up,” he finally said in a low, scratchy voice. “I didn’t think I was scared, but…”
“Hey, it’s okay. If this feels too heavy, it might not be the right time. And that’s okay, too.”
“No, I want to do it. It was always my intention to come out. I don’t have anything to be ashamed of.
I grew up and did cool things. Christ, the assholes who made fun of me in grade school want my jersey for their sons and daughters, nieces and nephews now.
I liked the idea that I came out on top.
It’s a sweet victory for the little kid who walked with his head down to avoid bullies.
I owe that kid something. I just…I don’t want this to hurt you. ”
“You really like me, huh?” I teased, hoping to infuse a little levity in the conversation.
“Hmph.”
I chuckled. “Well, I like you too. I’m tough. I can handle a little spotlight.”
He met my gaze. “And what if someone insinuates that we’re more than friends? Will you be okay with that, too?”
“Of course.” I punched Rob’s arm when he snorted. “I mean it. I know this—whatever we’re doing—isn’t a relationship. But it’s something.”
“Something special,” he rasped, draping an arm over my shoulders.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “It is.”
Rob smiled and kissed my temple, my cheek, my nose, my eyes, then he crooked a forefinger under my chin, and tenderly fused our lips.
We took our time with slow, sweet kisses until eventually heat and need gave way to a passionate explosion.
Rob grabbed my nape roughly and drove his tongue inside. I tugged his shirt from his jeans and sighed. His skin was warm and soft. I needed to feel all of him.
I broke the kiss and licked my lips. “Bedroom.”
My bedroom was spartan in comparison to the rest of my apartment—a queen-sized bed, a nightstand that doubled as a dresser, and that was it.
Rob stripped his shirt off and unbuckled his belt. “Let me see you.”
I yanked my shirt off, but that was as far as I got. He pushed me onto the mattress, our tongues twirling as we rolled from side to side, making out and grinding in a furious quest for friction until I captured his wrists and straddled Rob’s torso.
“No. I got this.”
“Fuck, you’re strong,” he hummed, testing my grip.
“Don’t fight me. Let me take care of you.”
Rob relaxed for a beat, eyes narrowed. “Huh?”
“You heard me. I want you to do exactly as I say.” I licked the shell of his ear and whispered, “Got it?”
“Ungh…yes.”
“Good. Hold on to the headboard…just like that.”
I tweaked his nipples and slid lower, making quick work of his jeans and shoes and socks. Then I crawled between his legs and looked my fill.
Rob Vilmer had the body of a seasoned warrior with the scars to prove it.
He was a feast to behold. His biceps were enormous, his pecs were toned and taut, and his abs were defined under a thin layer of frosting.
And my God, the light trail of hair pointing south at the bulge in his black boxer briefs was mouthwatering.
I met his gaze as I slipped my fingers under his waistband.
Rob’s nose flared in approval. I lowered the fabric and fuck, he was beautiful—long, thick, and hard as nails.
I bent, inhaling deeply as I licked a trail from his base to his slit. He groaned and lifted his hips. I did it again…and again. I sucked the head and played with his balls, chuckling at his growl of frustration. Rob was too proud to beg, and I was too wired. And too damn hungry.
So I opened my mouth and swallowed him whole.
“Oh, fuck! Yes, that’s it. Oh, fuck, yeah…”
His enthusiastic moans reverberated in my throat and sent shivers up my spine.
I bobbed my head, rolling his balls and tracing my thumb along his crease.
I was pushing my luck and I knew it, but for some reason, I felt in tune to Rob’s body in a way I never had with anyone else’s.
Like I could read his every response from the tilt of his pelvis to the desperate tone in his plea for more.
When he grabbed a handful of my hair, I knew he’d reached the end of his rope.
I sat back and wiped my mouth. “Hands on the bedpost.”
Rob clenched his jaw and growled. “I need to fucking come. Let me suck you, fuck you, let me—oh…shit.”
I devoured him again, picking up the tempo as I massaged a single saliva-slicked digit between his cheeks. He spread his legs wider, giving me better access. I released him with a pop to get a good look at him while I finished undressing.
“Show me that pretty hole,” I purred, stepping out of my jeans.
He stilled. “You want to fuck me?”
“I do. Is that okay?”
“Yes. Fuck yes.”
“You ready for me?” I climbed between his legs, tapped his entrance, and slipped my finger inside his tight channel before he could reply.
He gasped. “Yeah. More.”
I obeyed, gently gliding my fingers in and out, in and out. “Stroke yourself, but don’t come.”
“Oh, my God.” Rob squeezed his cock at the base, his eyes rolling in his head. “Just…just do it already. Don’t make me fucking beg.”
The self-control required not to just suit up, lube up, and mount him was on a superhuman level. I was vibrating with need. No begging necessary.
I added a third digit, working my fingers in and out of his hole a few times. Then I pulled away to grab supplies from my nightstand drawer.
My fingers trembled as I rolled on the latex and added lube. This was my first time topping him and I was nervous, which was silly. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t done this dozens of times with other men. For fuck’s sake, this was just sex.
But sex with Rob didn’t feel meaningless anymore. Scary thought and not one I wanted to dwell on now.
I lined my sheathed cock at Rob’s hole and pushed. We moaned, our eyes locked as I inched my way inside. I moved slowly, savoring the moment. He was tight and hot, and so damn sexy.
“Am I hurting you?”
He grunted. “No. I’m—I haven’t done this in a while. But…I’m okay. You can move.”
I rocked my hips and steadily upped the tempo till the room echoed with the sound of squeaky bedsprings and our soft hums and sighs.
The carnal give-and-take was a perfect dance. I rested my forehead on Rob’s, pistoning double time as he wrapped his legs around me and slipped a hand between our sweaty torsos.
“I’m gonna—I’m close,” he panted, jacking his cock faster still.
Fuck, I was too. I bit his bottom lip and licked it better. “Come for me, baby. Come.”
Rob roared, shooting ribbons of jizz on both of us. That was it for me, too.
I fell apart in a blinding rush of white light, collapsing on my lover, my body quaking through one of the most intense orgasm I’d ever had.
I panted for air, blinking through the residual haze of lust. “You okay?”
“Okay isn’t a strong enough word,” Rob countered softly.
“I know. This is…”
“So good,” he whispered.
I kissed his brow and nodded.
It was…beautiful. I didn’t want to ruin the moment with sappy sentiments, but that didn’t stop the smile from spreading across my face.
Whatever this was felt…real. The way I’d heard it was supposed to feel with the right person.