Chapter 10 Matthew
MATTHEW
On Saturday, Joshua woke up in a good mood.
He seemed present from the first moment I saw him, and it was a nice change.
There wasn’t any hesitation or insecurity about still being in my home.
He knew I wanted him to stay, and even though he offered to leave, we both agreed to this living situation for a while, and that gave me as much peace of mind as it seemed to for him.
It was almost like a switch had been flipped, and now that he had something exciting to look forward to, he was a whole different person. Maybe the person he used to be before life got hard for him.
“Do you think we could see a whale’s spout from here?” He stared out at the water that was a few miles away.
“Probably not from here, but that’s why we run. Whale spotting is kinda like our reward for all that sweating.”
“No kidding. Oh, that reminds me...” He grabbed my tablet and did a quick search. "You were right. We saw a humpback yesterday."
I grinned. "It’s the season for humpbacks, but in a few months, we’ll see more gray whales out here."
He put the tablet down, and that reminded me about something else I wanted to talk to him about.
“I need to go to the phone store to upgrade my phone, and I’d like to give you mine so you have it for work.”
Joshua’s eyes went wide, and his happy temperament dropped for a second. “Oh, um, sure. Thank you.”
He didn’t like to accept financial gifts from me, but he also had nothing left in the world other than his motorcycle. He’d given it all up with the assumption that he wouldn’t need it past Sunday night. Now, he had to rebuild all of his basic life possessions.
He held his mug and looked out toward the tree line with an expression I was starting to recognize as the one he wore when something was turning over in his head.
As usual, I didn't push. I just drank my coffee and let him think.
After breakfast, Joshua settled into the corner of the sectional with his knee up and one of the many sketch pads I had lying around the house.
I was reviewing some permit requirements on my laptop, and when I looked up, it almost took my breath away to watch him draw with his tongue poking out as he concentrated.
Even though I was tempted to find a reason to walk behind him and see what he was drawing, I kept my eyes averted so he didn’t feel self-conscious.
If he decided to show me what he was working on, I would appreciate the moment for what it was.
A show of trust. And if he wanted to keep it to himself, I respected that.
My email inbox was fuller than usual because I’d only worked a few hours each day since Joshua joined me. But having a shit ton of work to do didn’t keep me from sneaking glances now and then.
I just liked looking at him.
"You like to draw?" I kept my voice easy, like I was just making conversation.
He didn't look up, but he shifted his head to the other side. "I guess. Haven't done it in a while." His hand stopped for a moment, and he looked up. "I found the pad in the drawer. Hope that's okay."
“Of course.” I loved that he helped himself to things he was interested in. "Use as many as you want."
He smiled but kept his focus on the paper.
By early afternoon, he'd filled several pages and then left the pad on the coffee table when he went to the bathroom. As he rounded the corner, he stopped and looked over his shoulder. “You can look if you want.”
I did want. Very fucking much.
The first pages were trees. Just rough sketches as he warmed up. Then there was a more detailed drawing of the deck railing with the ocean behind it. But the one that stole my breath was the last one. It was a quick sketch of two mugs side by side with trees and the water in the background.
My throat was tight as I stared for another minute, and when Joshua came back, I pulled him into my chest and hugged him tightly. “You’re so good, baby. Thank you for sharing that part of yourself with me.”
On Sunday, the fog stayed low all day, so we stayed in, and I taught Joshua to make my famous tomato sauce.
Not famous in the traditional “known outside of my house” way, but the few people I ever cooked for were very familiar with it.
Joshua didn’t have a ton of patience for stirring and waiting, but I wouldn't let him rush it.
He stirred and complained and stirred some more, and when it was done and he tasted it off the spoon, his whole face changed.
“Wow.” He tore a piece of bread off the loaf I’d baked and dipped it in for a second taste. "That's not fair."
I grabbed some bread and tasted it too. "What isn't?"
"That something so simple tastes so delicious." He closed his eyes and did a little wiggle. "How did you learn how to make this?"
"My mom taught me when I was in high school. Before she got sick." I drained the pasta and put it in a bowl with a drizzle of olive oil. “After that, I did most of the cooking for me and Dad.”
"I didn't learn anything from my mom." Joshua wasn’t looking for sympathy. He was just stating a fact. "Just how to avoid her and her boyfriends when they were drinking."
"I’m sorry." Joshua had mentioned that his mom didn’t allow him to go home when he was at rock bottom, and now I was realizing that might have been a good thing. At least for me it was. “You deserved better than that.”
"Maybe, maybe not." He put down the spoon and picked up his glass of water. "I used to imagine what it would be like to have someone cook for me and teach me things like this." He was quiet for a moment as he looked off into the distance. "Better late than never, right?"
I put the lid back on the pot and didn't say anything because anything I said would come out wrong, and what I really thought he needed weren’t stupid platitudes. He needed someone to take care of him.
He needed a fucking Daddy.
I’d been trying to ignore the attraction between us, but it wasn’t possible anymore.
It was constant and tangible. A pull in whatever direction he was standing.
When he handed me things in the kitchen, our fingers sometimes lingered like they were stuck together with magnetic force.
And the distance between us on the couch was getting smaller and smaller.
I was holding the line, but just barely. And with every glance and smile and carefree laugh he graced me with, that line was getting harder and harder to acknowledge.
That night, I waited until the light under the guest room door had been off for a solid hour before I went to the kitchen to pump. We hadn’t discussed it again after that first night, but we would. At some point, probably very soon, we would talk about it again.
And when he asked for more, I wouldn’t deny him.
I couldn’t.
I settled onto the counter stool and got the pump set up.
I needed at least ten minutes on each side, and then I could go to bed.
I opened my book and tried to ignore the memories that the familiar tugging and pulsing conjured up in me.
The memories of a sweet boy practically begging me to give him more.
The detective was about to discover a key piece of evidence when I heard Joshua behind me. Instead of looking back or hiding the pump, I put the book down and waited.
From the corner of my vision, I could see him standing just far enough back from the doorway that he probably thought I wouldn’t notice him. He wasn't moving closer, but he wasn’t bolting either.
When the non-pump silence felt too loud, I looked over at the hallway.
He stood there and held my gaze with the most honest expression on his face I'd ever seen. He didn’t look embarrassed or guilty for getting caught. He just wanted to get closer.
"Come here, sweetheart." I held out one arm while I disconnected the pump and moved it out of the way.
He crossed the kitchen and stopped between my knees as I turned toward him. “I can’t sleep.”
“I’m sorry if the noise woke you.” I rubbed the side of his arm. He’d had nervous energy all day, both excited and nervous for his first day at work. “I’m done now.”
“It didn’t wake me.” His hand lifted like he wanted to touch me, but he quickly lowered it. “I wanted to…see you.”
“Let’s get you back in bed.” I left everything on the counter and stood up.
Joshua didn’t back away, so he was essentially pressed up against my bare chest. This time, when his hand came up, he carefully traced my lower pec and then ran his fingertip up to my nipple. There was a drop of milk at the tip, and he brushed it off.
His soft touch on my sensitive nipple sent a spike of electricity down my spine, but watching him study the white drop on his finger like it was fascinating made my dick twitch. Against his hip. “Come on.”
I shifted him to my side and practically dragged him back to his room by his hand. From the corner of my eye, I saw his fingertip slip into his mouth for a quick second, and that twitch in my flannel pants immediately turned into a full-blown hard-on.
We moved in silence, and when we got to the side of the bed, Joshua sat down but didn’t let go of my hand. “Matthew?”
“Yes.” I ran my fingers through his hair, brushing it out of his eyes. “What do you need?”
He took a deep breath and then looked up at me. “Milk.”
I cocked my head, almost afraid to let my mind wander to the point of knowing what that actually meant. “A glass of milk?”
Joshua shook his head and reached for my chest again. His fingertips lightly grazed my swollen nipple. “Not a glass.”
Fuck. My dick was now pointing straight at him, and I was suddenly grateful he was focused on my chest and not my crotch. “Joshua.”
He finally let go of my hand and leaned back. “Please.”
I promised to give him what he needed. I just had no idea he might want the one thing I tried to hide from most people in my life.
Letting someone directly feed from me wasn’t something I’d ever tried before. Never expected to receive a request like that. But from the first time Joshua hinted that he wanted to share the lactation experience with me, I’d let my mind go there…and it stayed there.
Before I could remind myself of all the reasons it was a bad idea, I put one knee on the edge of the mattress and lowered myself until I was lying beside him.
We didn’t speak as Joshua leaned in, giving me every chance to change my mind before his lips found my skin, and he drew the soft tip into his mouth.
A rush of air filled my lungs as I silently gasped for breath. My palm found the back of his head, and I held it close as he figured out a smooth sucking rhythm.
"This okay?" He pulled back just far enough to murmur against my skin, rubbing his cheek in the valley between my pecs as he looked up.
"Perfect." I lightly scratched his head, and his eyes fluttered shut before he pressed his face to my skin again. "How is it?"
“Mmm…” He hummed against my sensitive flesh, making goose bumps cover my body.
Focused on just enjoying this moment, I closed my eyes and let him do what he wanted to do.
The night I found him on that cliff didn’t happen, the fears I’d been holding back every time he was outta my sight didn’t exist, and the consequences of giving into my baser needs were officially tomorrow’s problem.
Tonight was about us.
Feeling. Holding. Being.