Chapter 21 Mark Him
I took things too far last night. Said too much.
“I wish you could sleep here.”
Did reckless things.
“Take it off. Please come inside me.”
I fucked Lane without a condom when I had no business doing such a thing. I put him in danger. He might’ve gotten tested, but I haven’t since before I got locked up.
I had a couple of sexual escapades in prison, and it’s not like we had access to condoms. I was reckless with the partners I had, but it’s not like I cared about them like I care about Lane.
I planned to get tested when I got out of prison, but it slipped my mind in favor of everything else that’s been fighting for my attention.
Lane. Mostly Lane.
I curse myself for being so stupid. Lane’s a good person, a sweet angel, and I’m… I’m a reckless jackass who’s barely worthy of touching him, let alone fucking him without protection.
I’m always in control, but Lane makes me feel as reckless and unhinged as I was when I… when I did the shit that laid waste to my entire fucking life.
I need to get a hold of myself, get back in control, but it’s easier said than done.
Lane’s become more to me than I expected he would.
I just wanted to have some fun; I just wanted to let my dick take the lead and point me like a compass toward what I wanted.
But another part of me—the beating, aching, annoying thing in my chest—is taking the lead, and I don’t know how to feel about that.
It’s strange, to say the least. Terrifying is another word for it.
At the same time, it feels so good I don’t know if I can stay away.
I groan as I sniff the pillows, finding Lane’s scent wherever I turn. I grip my cock and stroke it languidly, remembering the way he grasped for it last night, how desperate he was to feel it bare, with no barriers between us. How fucking reckless I was to let him have it.
He didn’t deserve that. He trusted me when he shouldn’t—especially not in the middle of us fucking, when the rational part of my brain takes a hike more often than not.
The only thing I can do to make this right is to go and get tested and hope I didn’t pass something on. Unprotected oral is one thing, but penetration is crossing the line. I got lost in the moment; I didn’t fucking think.
I withdraw my hand from my crotch and stop smelling the pillows. I feel strangely… undeserving. It’s not a feeling I’m used to; I’m used to taking what I want, consequences be damned, but Lane is so sweet, so fucking perfect, that I feel the need to earn his trust and the privilege of touching him.
Sighing in defeat, I unlock my phone and make the necessary call to my parole officer to ask for permission to go get tested. I can’t believe I have to fucking do this. Ridiculous. Thankfully, I don’t have to provide any details—just tell him I need to go to the doctor’s office.
A few minutes of research tells me there’s a clinic nearby that takes walk-ins, so I get ready to go. Downstairs, I fiddle with my wallet in the hallway, wondering where the fuck Mom’s car keys are. I finally find them, but when I’m about to open the door, I feel a presence behind me.
“Where are you going?” Lane asks. He sounds strangely soft and uncertain.
“Out,” I tell him over my shoulder.
“Can I… Can I come?”
I frown. Why does he sound like that? Almost like he’s been crying? I turn around fully and study him closer. “Where’s Oliver?”
“He’s busy with college stuff,” Lane mutters, gaze downturned. “He’s been talking to his mom for ages, so I told him I’d go buy some more snacks. We’re almost out.”
I hesitate. If he comes with me, I’ll have to explain where I’m going and why. I don’t know if I’m ready for all that.
Lane wraps his arms around himself, and he looks so dejected, so utterly miserable, that I sigh and nod.
“Fine. You can come.”
Lane looks up at me and smiles—unguarded and bright. “Really?”
From that sweet smile alone, I know I’ve made the right decision.
When I was first learning how to drive, it was this car I did it in. Kind of nostalgic, to be honest. When I was a kid of fifteen, I thought I had my whole life ahead of me, but that quickly came to a stop after… that night.
Gritting my teeth, I grip the steering wheel tighter and glance over at Lane. No need to think about my disastrous past now that I’ve got him to focus on.
He’s sitting slumped in the seat and looking out the window. He hasn’t even asked me where we’re going. I suppose he’ll find out soon enough. The clinic is located about ten minutes away, so there’s not much time for chatting. I simply stop in the parking lot and let Lane connect the dots.
“Why are we here?” he asks, frowning.
I sigh and hesitate to get out of my seat. “Why do you think?”
His eyes go wide. “Don’t you trust me? That I’ve… that I’ve gotten tested?”
I raise a brow. “Of course I trust you. I’m the one who shouldn’t be trusted. You should probably get tested too, just to make sure.”
His mouth drops open into a little oh. “So in prison, you…?”
I would smirk and tease him about it, but it doesn’t feel right in this situation, so I keep serious for once, running a hand through my hair. “Yeah, you know how it is.”
“I don’t, actually. So, um, you didn’t use condoms?”
I shrug. “Commissary stocked them sometimes, but they were crazy expensive. No one bothered.”
“Oh.”
“So…” I thumb the steering wheel, an unfamiliar sense of guilt swirling through my chest. I’m not used to feeling sorry. I’m not used to apologizing for my actions. “I’m sorry,” I say anyway. “I shouldn’t have let you… convince me.”
“Well, you didn’t need much convincing.”
“You’re right. Can you blame me, though?” I send him a wink and place a hand on his thigh. He parts his legs automatically, always ready for my touch. Fuck, I could just ravage him right here.
“Maybe I should,” Lane says. Then, in a lower, breathier voice, “I don’t regret it, though. It was worth it. Felt so good,” he whispers, and his cheeks turn red.
“Yeah?” I mumble, squeezing his thigh.
Lane leans in, and when our lips meet, it’s a soft peck that turns into more.
It strikes me that this is the first time we’ve been together without the threat of Oliver breathing down our necks.
We can’t let this opportunity pass us by, but we need to get the uncomfortable stuff out of the way first.
I pull back and open the car door. “Let’s go.”
Lane looks a little disappointed but nods and follows me.
The clinic is almost empty, and Lane and I sit down next to each other in the waiting room. Lane fidgets with his shirt while I stare straight ahead, trying not to let the guilt consume me.
I’m the reason he’s here. I did this. He doesn’t seem to acknowledge the severity of my actions. By rights, he should’ve yelled at me and made me feel even more horrible than I already do, but as usual, he’s a sweet angel, and I’m a horrible monster in comparison.
Soon enough, it’s my turn, and I go through the process of testing and all the bullshit forms to sign. I wait for Lane to finish, and when we’re back in the car, I hesitate to put the key back in the ignition.
“Sorry again,” I mumble.
“I told you, it’s okay,” Lane says. “It’s not so bad.”
I sigh, tapping the steering wheel. It’s pretty bad. Not the worst thing I’ve ever done, but it means more when it’s Lane I’ve put in danger and not some random asshole.
“Well,” I mutter, “let’s just hope they come back negative.”
Lane nods. “I think they will.”
We stay silent for a while, and I put my hand on his thigh, stroking it absentmindedly. Lane stays still, not parting his legs this time, and we enjoy this quiet moment together.
“Want to go somewhere?” I ask, not ready to let him out of my sight yet.
“Where?”
I drive us to an old ice cream parlor I used to frequent as a kid. It’s a miracle it’s still running, but the prices have gone up a lot. I’ve only got a spare fiver in my pocket, and they don’t take cards, so I order a single cone with two scoops for us to share.
Ice cream in hand, I sit on a park bench, motioning for Lane to sit next to me and scoot close.
“Want to share, puppy?” I hold up the cone and lick one side of the ice cream, lapping up the vanilla flavor and crushed chocolate flakes.
Lane looks around us. There are children and moms with strollers in the park behind us, and cars are driving by a few feet ahead.
“Don’t look at them.” I cup his cheek, turning his attention back to me. “Just enjoy your treat.”
His cheeks flush with color, but he leans in and licks at the melting ice cream, tongue catching on my finger. I stick my tongue out and mimic him. His eyes flutter closed, but I keep mine open, watching him eagerly while I devour the ice cream between us.
When his eyes open, he gets the same heavy-lidded, dazed sort of expression that he usually gets when he’s sucking my cock.
He rests a hand on my thigh, leaning closer.
The ice cream is running out, so at the next lick, our tongues meet over the cone, and Lane kisses me sloppily, giving an embarrassed giggle as he pulls away.
I stare at him, frozen in my desire. I don’t want ice cream anymore; I just want him.
Lane yelps as I throw the cone into the trash can beside us. “No!”
“Come.” I take his hand and lead him back to the car.
“But I love the cone,” Lane says sullenly. “Where are we going?”
Somewhere private. Somewhere we can do whatever we want without anyone watching. Not Oliver, not the moms eyeing us disapprovingly in the park, not the cars driving by. Somewhere we can just be with each other without the threat of discovery.
I would check us into a hotel, but I don’t have the money. Spent my last savings on renting the gym equipment. The car is all we have. Now we need to find somewhere secluded.
I drive us up a hilltop road surrounded by forest, with a view over the city.
“Oh,” Lane says. “This place is nice.”
I park the car, itching to get my hands on him, but I suppose we can chat a bit first. “Yeah. I used to drink here sometimes with friends.”