32. Chapter 32
Chapter thirty-two
Chuck
It’s too much. It’s all too much. His body loved every millisecond of the experience. Even through what remained of his thoughts, he ached to have Robinson in his ass again after he pulled out. His body skittered with electricity as he jacked himself off.
The closer he got to cumming, the more his mind drifted away. At first, everything was so good, but something had broken open inside himself when Robinson laid against him, when Chuck felt the throbbing of his cock as he finished. And when that broke, the guilt he’d managed to place away and ignore flooded back in. His husband had died and this was the first time he was getting fucked? By someone who was going to leave in a week? Someone who was great and understanding and who got along with the boys and was willing to clean himself up and didn’t care about all of Chuck’s weirdness…who was just going to be gone soon.
Chuck never even considered stopping. He was so close to an orgasm, felt it rolling over him even as his mind continued to spin. Robinson didn’t deserve to get sucked into this insanity. Chuck couldn’t get over his dead husband…his wonderful dead husband. He couldn’t move on and he couldn’t decide how he felt and Robinson did nothing wrong, but it felt like Chuck did. Like he’d betrayed Andrew.
His orgasm briefly washed all thoughts away. His hips lifted and he sprayed cum across his belly, his bush, almost all the way up to his chest. Yet when it passed and he started to soften in his hand, and his shoulder touched against the wet spot where he came before, it all flooded back into him once again.
“I’m sorry.” Chuck swiped at his eyes—he hadn’t realized he was actually crying over this—and shook his head. “I’m sorry.”
“Hey, it’s okay.” Robinson lay down on the bed next to him and Chuck had to resist the instinct to pull away. After that passed, it felt nice to have a body next to him, and to have someone speaking softly in his ear. “Did I hurt you?”
Chuck shook his head, then realized that probably wasn’t visible to Robinson at that angle. He swallowed hard to try and make his throat work, but even when he did speak, his voice sounded ragged. “No. I just…I’m sorry.” He was apologizing to Robinson…and to Andrew. This wasn’t a betrayal, and every logical part of Chuck knew that, but it didn’t matter if he understood that. “I’m okay. It’s Andrew.”
Robinson nodded, though Chuck could only barely see that out of the corner of his eye. “Andrew.”
I shouldn’t have done this. I should be at home with the boys, not fucking strangers like I’m twenty again . As post-nut clarity continued to ravage him, the pains in his body made themselves known. His hole ached to be filled, but it also just ached. His cock felt worn out from cumming too many times. Even though Robinson was a good size downstairs, his jaw still twinged a little. His hips and back were in full protest against him throwing his legs back like that. And his heart burned, fissures of flame sprouting through it the longer he stayed there, knowing what he’d done.
“I should go wash up.” Chuck groaned as he sat up, and when he tried to stand, his legs gave out and plopped him back into the bed again. “I…I’m sorry about this.” He wiped his face again and, when he went to stand, Robinson stood with him. Robinson was ready to stabilize him, walk him to the bathroom.
Something new snapped inside Chuck, like all these conflicting forces were simply too much to handle. He yanked his shoulder away from Robinson and took a big step back. “I’m sorry. You don’t need to get into this. I shouldn’t have…I’ll clean myself up and be out of your hair.” His belly clenched tight at the thought of walking away, but if Chuck couldn’t even have sex without panicking about Andrew, he wasn’t ready for a relationship. Was he going to burst into tears any time he got laid? What kind of future would that be?
He made it to the bathroom, staring at his reflection, before he put together his own thoughts. We don’t have a future anyway . This was a fling and that’s it, and it proves that I can’t do this. Andrew was the one. The only one.
He wiped off his chest and belly and tried not to stare at himself too much. He was hooking up with someone ten years younger and in way better shape. He’d become a disgusting cliche of a middle-aged man, and every flaw was exposed there in the bathroom mirror of this hotel he hadn’t even paid for.
Chuck steeled himself, then walked back out of the bathroom. Robinson was still standing where Chuck had left him, still naked. And he really was sexy. No denying that, even with that betrayal clear on his face. Chuck’s instincts begged him to smooth things over, but he had to make a hard decision. Robinson would get hurt one way or the other.
Chuck nodded to him and smiled. “Thank you.”
“Chuck, what’s going on?”
He shook his head and slid on his underwear. “I had a great time.”
“You were crying.”
“Yeah. Still had a great time.” He pulled on his pants, then slid into his shirt before looking for where the hell he left his shoes.
“Chuck—”
“I just need to get home, okay?” Chuck shook his head. “This isn’t anything to do with you. You were great. All the way around.”
Robinson sat on the edge of the bed, staring up at Chuck. “If you want to talk about something, I’m right here. I don’t mind.”
Chuck couldn’t keep going down this road. He’d start crying again if they went into anything too deep, and the last thing this night needed was a post-coital sob session. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, then handed a twenty to Robinson.
“Really?” Robinson snatched the bill out of his hand and tossed it on the bed. “I didn’t realize I was getting paid for this.”
Chuck’s body chilled. “No. No . I wiped a bunch of semen off myself. This is for an extra tip for housekeeping when they have to deal with that.” Chuck scrubbed his hands up and down his face, trying not to freak the hell out. When he looked around again, he finally found his shoes. “Just…I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, you keep saying that.” There was a hardness in Robinson’s voice that Chuck wasn’t sure he’d ever heard before. “If you want to make things right, then talk to me.”
He slipped on his shoes, fighting back tears. Didn’t help that his legs were still shaky, so he fumbled and had to try a few times to get his right foot into the damn shoe. “It’s not going to do either of us any good if I talk.” He finally got that last shoe on, then moved toward the door. “Please. Don’t be offended. This isn’t about you.”
“Yeah, but it is.” Robinson’s voice had grown even harsher. Almost angry, which Chuck couldn’t blame him for. This was a whole big pile of a shitty situation for him. “It means you don’t give enough of a crap to spend thirty seconds and give me an explainer.”
Chuck went cold. But not so cold that he couldn’t move, that he couldn’t grab the door handle and let himself out. And not so cold that his tears froze in place.
I’m sorry .