17. Wyatt
17
WYATT
Matthias stands, his eyes dark as he thumbs at a drop of cum at the corner of his lips. I watch, fascinated, as he pushes it back into his mouth and sucks. A whimper lingers in my throat at the sight, unsure as to why that’s almost as hot as him being on his knees. I shouldn’t make those sounds. I shouldn’t like this at all.
But I do.
“You taste…fucking good,” he says roughly, licking his thumb one more time. He sees the way my eyes widen, must be able to hear the pounding of my heart because he asks, “You going to run now?”
My eye twitches and I can’t help but take a step closer, bracketing him against the wall with my forearms. “Fuck you. I’m not the one who’s been running or hiding. I’ve been in our bed every night. Right where you told me to be.”
His eyes flick to the side. Is that guilt? Fuck if I know. I can’t read him.
Not like I used to.
“I thought you’d be happier not sleeping with me.”
“You keep doing that,” I murmur, my gaze dipping to his lips. It’s been mere minutes since I’ve had a taste and I’m already thinking of doing it again. “Assuming what’ll make me happy. Ever think of, oh I don’t know, asking me ?”
“Maybe I’m used to you not talking to me.”
It hits like a barb. A shot in the tentative cease-fire between us. “I’m not the one who ghosted our friendship all those years ago.”
Matt finally meets my eyes. “I had my reasons.”
I wrap my hand around his throat. To choke him, that’s what I tell myself. Not because I need to be touching him. That would be ridiculous. I hate touching him. My thumb strokes over his pulse and I feel it frantically pulsing. “Gonna share those reasons, Matthias ?”
He flinches at my return to his full name but doesn’t push my hand away. “Depends. Are you ready to listen now, Wy ?”
We glare at each other, both too stubborn to back down.
Am I ready to listen? To go back to that night? To everything that followed?
No. Doing that means digging up a bunch of bullshit. Opening myself up to potentially being hurt again.
Fuck that. There’s no reason to go there for either of us. We’re stuck together for a year, then we’ll both go our own ways. It doesn’t have to be more than that.
“You know what,” I drawl, letting my hand trail down Matthias’s throat. It stops at the base, finding its home there. “I don’t think talking is what we should be doing.”
He swallows roughly, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “It isn’t?”
“No,” I lean in, nipping at his lower lip until he hisses. “Talking leads to fighting. We don’t need to like each other to survive the next twelve months.”
He goes rigid under my touch. He glares at me, and for a moment, I think he’s going to argue. But just as fast, he collapses back in on himself. “What are you suggesting exactly?”
I shrug. “Well, I don’t know about you, but not having sex for the next year sounds pretty shit.”
Now he’s not the only one with a hand on his throat. Sparks flash in Matthias’s eyes as he flips us. I let him, landing back against the wall with a grunt.
“I told you—no sleeping with anyone else,” Matthias thunders. Something in me expands as he shows me the first emotion I understand since the night of the gala. “I won’t have you cheating on me. You fucking got that?”
My lips curl up in a smirk, drawing a growl from Matthias. I let it grow until I’m grinning at him widely. “Who said anything about sleeping with other people?”
Honestly, it’s comical watching Matthias process that. I can almost hear the screech of his brain coming to a halt.
His hand loosens around my throat, making me scowl.
No, put it back. I want it there. I want it tighter, damnit.
“What?”
I roll my eyes. “Do I need to spell it out for you? You are gay, right? You know how this works between two men?”
My antagonizing words work, a groan spilling from me as his grip retightens. “My sexuality isn’t the one we should be discussing. You are straight, right?”
See, he might think that mocking tone will annoy me, but it doesn’t. It’s a sign I’m getting to him. That I’m as under his skin as he is under mine. “Seems I’m not as straight as I thought. Or your mouth is just that good. Because right now, I have no issue moving forward. Doing more with you .”
His lips pop open and I can’t help myself. I latch on to him and shove my tongue inside. There’s a salty taste that takes me a second to place.
It’s you. That’s what you’re tasting. Your cum.
I moan into Matthias’s mouth, my hands going into his hair. He’s still frozen, letting me just plunder him. I pull away in frustration when he doesn’t give me what I want. “Come on. You want me. Well, here I am. What are you going to do with me?”
My words detonate something inside him. He snaps, hauling me away from the wall and spinning me. I’m being marched backward, my thighs hitting something soft before I’m shoved down on a bed.
Matthias covers my body with his, his mouth lowering to mine. Before our lips meet, he cringes. “Shit.”
I sit up as he scrambles backward. “What? Don’t start running again. I’ve chased you down once, I’ll do it again.”
“It’s not that,” he mutters, tugging on the crotch of his boxers as his cheeks turn a cute shade of pink. “I forgot I’ve come once already. These are fucking uncomfortable. I think my pubes are fused together.”
He looks so chagrined, so mournful that he’s had to pause, that it stirs something in me. A reaction I haven’t had in a long time.
It starts as a snort.
Builds into a chuckle.
Before I know it, laughter is roaring out of me.
Matthias’s lips quirk. “Something funny?”
That sends me over the edge. Tears streak down my face as I clutch my stomach. I don’t know what it is. That Matthias is uncomfortable in the boxers I made him come in. That his normally perfectly styled hair is stuck against his head from where I’d yanked him into the pool. That I got him into bed, only for him to need to immediately get back out again.
Or is it the fact that I want him in bed in the first place? That somehow, despite hating him for all these years, I want him? Perhaps it’s just this whole situation. A few weeks ago, I was broke, single, straight, and miserable as fuck.
Now, I have more money than I know what to do with and a husband. And judging by the number of orgasms that have resulted because of said husband, we can knock straight off the list too.
And…I’m laughing. I’m laughing. I don’t remember the last time this happened. Not like this. My breath is wheezing in and out of my chest as I blink away tears. The black cloud that’s followed me for so long…it’s lifting. Maybe not completely, but enough for me to feel.
When the fuck did that happen? And why? Why is it him that makes me feel alive after all this time?
It’s always been him.
You were miserable without him, even when you hated him.
I shake that thought away as I finally pull myself together, wiping at my face with the sheet. When it drops away, Matthias is watching me closely, his eyes soft, his lips lifted in a wistful smile.
“What?”
He shakes his head a little. “It’s been a long time since I’ve heard you laugh like that.”
“It’s been a long time for me too.”
“I’ve missed it.”
For some reason, I offer him a tiny part of myself, a sliver of what I’ve hidden from him. From everyone. “I’ve missed it too.”
The air between us catches and pulls tight. Not with lust or need.
With something far more dangerous. Something I don’t let myself think about.
I clear my throat. “How about we move this to the shower?”
Matthias bites his lower lip. “You still want to…?”
I get out of the bed, completely comfortable in my nudity. More than comfortable. I want Matthias’s eyes on me.
Me, and no one else.
For the next several months at least.
“Well, it is our honeymoon after all,” I drawl, crossing until I’m before him. “And you want this to be real, right?”
His skin pales, and I run over my words again, cursing when I realize what I said. “I mean, to appear real. What could be more real than fucking around on our honeymoon?”
“But it’s not real.” His voice lifts at the end, almost as though he’s checking.
I huff. “Is that what you’re worried about? If so, don’t. I’m not going to catch feelings for you. I might want to mess around, but you’re still the fucker who betrayed and abandoned me. We can have as much sex as we want, but we both know this ends with us going our separate ways.”
“That’s not—” he catches himself, clearing his throat. “Yeah. That’s what we agreed.”
“Exactly,” I dust my fingers over his chest. I seek out his nipple, circling my finger until it pebbles. “We’re stuck in this together, so why not make the most of it?”
“And, just like that, you’re accepting you’re not straight?”
“Why fight it when I have proof that I’m most likely not?” I grab his jaw firmly between my thumb and forefinger. “Why are you overthinking this? Are you going to stand there and tell me you don’t want me? Because if you are, I’m gonna call you a fucking liar.”
“I do want you.” He tugs at his hair, and I frown. Why is he so frustrating? Am I not offering him all he wants on a fucking platter? “But…I need a minute to breathe.”
I try and pretend the rejection doesn’t punch me in the gut. “All right, I guess I’ll?—”
“Not like that,” his hand wraps around my wrist before I can take a step back. His throat bobs as our eyes meet. “I do want you, Wy. I do. Later though. Right now, why don’t we go explore the island?”
“Seriously? I offer you my dick and you want to go explore?”
“I mean…god.” He groans and then his shoulders sag. “You’re fucking impossible. But really, we should explore for a bit. It’s not like either of us is tired, and there’s still plenty of daylight left.”
“So, no sex right now?”
“No. Not yet,” he says as he adjusts himself slightly.
I step toward him, trying to entice him to stay, my hand dragging over the wet spot on his boxers.
He groans and takes a step back. “Come on. Don’t tempt me too much. I might break.”
“I’d like to see you broken,” I reply, and he huffs.
“You can break me later. After we go out and look around. We came all this way. We should see what’s out there.”
I can’t argue with that, especially because Matthias is proposing spending time with me instead of working. After a week of solitude, of him shutting me out and ignoring me completely, I’ll take whatever I can get.
Someone sounds obsessed.
“All right. Let’s do it.”
* * *
We take turns in the shower, not that the other doesn’t watch. I sit on the marble counter near the sinks as Matthias peels his boxers off and steps under the spray. His body is lean, muscular, and tan. He’s incredible.
Of course he is. He’s always been impeccable. Even when he was young, he had the body of someone who had the time to work out, to hone different muscle groups. Now, he looks like a Michelangelo sculpture.
Except for when I pulled him into the pool and he flailed about, emerging with a wet suit and flattened hair. He looked like a wet fish then, but right now, he’s stepping under the spray and I watch as he rubs his hands all over his body. The sight—fuck, the view of him—it makes my cock hard once more.
Fuck him for turning me down. For telling me to wait.
I look forward to making him pay for it later, I think as my fingers curl around the edge of the countertop, holding me in place.
His eyes catch mine, dropping to my hardening dick, and he closes his eyes with a long-suffering sigh.
His dick is hard too.
Good. I want him to suffer right along with me.
As I sit and watch him rinse off, I wonder if I’ve always been into men or if it’s just Matthias.
Has it always been him?
I don’t fucking know. When I think about the past, I can’t remember ever looking at him like that. But I guess my gaze did linger. I did sometimes wonder what he’d look like as he came, or what his body would look like writhing against another man.
I just never thought that man would ever be me.
Matthias steps from the shower, grabs a towel, and stalks toward me, pulling me from my reverie. I glance at him as he leans toward me, his mouth brushing my ear, his hands on either side of my legs.
“Your turn.”
I feel a deep tremble thrum through me as he steps away and leaves me to shower alone.
But he watches. The entire time, his eyes never leave me.
I make sure to give him a show.
By the time we’re both dressed and outside, we’re still hard, our cocks tucked under the waistbands of our shorts.
“Fuck you for this,” he murmurs, adjusting himself.
“You could have fucked around with me, but you chose this instead.”
“I chose a minute to breathe.”
“Who needs air?” I say with a small grin, and he nudges me.
“Me. I need to breathe around you, Wy, or else I’ll end up consumed.”
After imparting that little nugget, he walks forward, and I’m left to stare after him. Consumed? What the hell? Since when did he become so dramatic? So poetic?
His words move through me as I follow him onto the sand. He’s attractive out here in the light of day. More so than he normally is. Fuck, when did I start feeling attraction toward him like this? I don’t know. Maybe it was always like this.
Maybe it was always just him .
Honestly, him being a man doesn’t bother me as much as the fact that it’s Matthias. It’s like my dick has forgotten how crushed I’d been that night all those years ago. The terror of sitting in that jail cell. Of using my one phone call to call him.
And him not picking up.
He has his reasons, my brain pipes up. There’s a reason he left you there to rot.
So he says. It might make a difference if I could imagine any fucking scenario that made what happened okay.
But I can’t. Bringing it up now…it’ll fracture this fragile peace we’ve built. Right now, I’m getting time with him. Someone who once meant everything to me. I missed this, what we had before that night. I know I’ll have to face up to the past eventually. I can’t outrun it forever. Doing that means stepping back from Matthias. There’s not a single bone in my body that’s ready to do that. Not when I feel alive for the very first time in years.
“Tell me what you’re planting in the yard.”
His question comes out of nowhere. “What?”
“The yard,” he elongates the words. “Full of dirt, worms, and God knows what else. You know, where you’ve been spending all your time?”
Instead of getting my hackles up, it draws a soft chuckle from me and I give him a playful shove. He stumbles forward and huffs in annoyance.
“I know what you mean, dick. I was just surprised you were asking.”
“Why?”
I shrug a shoulder. “Not like you’ve been interested in speaking to me much recently.”
“Like I said, I assumed you’d be happier without my company.” I open my mouth to yell at him again, but he stops me with a wry grin. “I know, ask instead of assume. I’ve learned my lesson.”
“Have you really?”
“I hope so.”
I meet his dark stare and then shrug. “So, you really wanna know what I’m doing in my garden?”
I stumble on that word. My . It’s not really mine. In a year, it will be given back to Corbin, but still, I don’t correct myself.
“Yes. Tell me.”
As we walk along the beach, I push his honesty to the limit, talking in detail about everything I’ve been doing. Each type of seed I’ve planted. The bark I asked Corbin to get me to spread along some of the borders. The benefits of clay soil versus acidic. I talk and talk, waiting for him to interrupt, to show some sign of boredom.
But there’s none. He just smiles placidly, nodding in all the right places.
Just like old times.
Eventually, I run out of things to say and come to an abrupt halt. My hands go to my hips as I glare at him. “Really?”
Matthias stops, tilting his head in confusion. “Really what?”
“You just listened to me blather on about gardening, a subject I’m certain you have zero interest in, for thirty solid minutes.”
His lips quirk. “What’s your point?”
“Why didn’t you stop me?”
“You were enjoying talking, and I was enjoying listening.”
I give him a flat stare. “About gardening.”
“Is it so hard to believe?” His voice drops an octave as he steps closer. “I used to listen to you talk for hours, about all sorts of things.”
The crack in my armor widens a little. I mentally try to patch it back up. “Things have changed now.”
“Not that,” he breathes. “How I feel about listening to you, that’s never changed. Plus, I like watching your mouth move—your lips…”
Our hands brush, but neither of us takes the next step. We just stand there, our breath mingling in the tropical air. Either of us could lean forward an inch, but we don’t.
I don’t know what’s happening between us. I don’t understand it. Yet instinctively, I know I’m not ready. If we kiss now, it won’t be like earlier. There’s no anger. There’s no frustration. We aren’t planning on doing anything sexual.
No, it’ll be for a different reason entirely.
I’m not sure I’m ready for that.
I break first, taking a step back and shoving my hands in my pockets. “We should get to exploring, haven’t seen anything other than the beach yet, and we have those on the coast back home.”
I feel his stare on me, can almost feel the internal fight he’s having. I brace myself, waiting for him to call me out. To ask me what the fuck we’re doing.
But he doesn’t. Instead, he turns on his heel and starts walking back in the direction of the villa, murmured curses on his lips.
I rush to catch up with him. “Wait, where are you going?”
The wind whips through his hair as he nods toward the horizon. “Storm’s coming in.”
I follow his gaze and groan inwardly. Shit. Yep. Those are storm clouds. Is it just me, or is the air suddenly thicker? It’s oppressive, choking me. How did I not notice that?
Because you were so focused on him. Everything else was eclipsed.
Matthias’s lips thin as he glances over at me. “Come on. If we hurry we can make it back before it hits.”
I nod mutely, anxiety robbing me of my voice.
We hurry along the sand, Matthias sticking close to my side. It’s stupid to be scared of storms. Childish, really. Knowing that doesn’t change anything though. Logically, I know the odds of being hurt in a storm are slim.
Emotionally, that means fuck all.
Fat raindrops fall from the sky, soaking us in seconds. The crash and roll of thunder that follows has me flinching. Fuck. How did we get this far from the villa? Neither of us was paying attention to how long we were gone. We must be miles away.
Matthias grabs my hand, firm and reassuring, and I let him. What’s more, I lean into his side as we break into a run. It’s okay. Matt won’t let you get hurt. He never does.
The demon that lives on my other shoulder fires a shot back. But he did, remember? He hurt you deeper than anyone else before. He broke you.
White light crashes into one of the palm trees just in front of us. Another hits. Then another. The thunder is almost continuous now, blocking out the howling wind and hammering rain.
We skid to a halt, Matthias’s arm around my waist like a shield. “This is fucking crazy! We need to get to shelter and wait it out.”
My whole body turns numb. I’m being bombarded from all sides, only Matthias’s touch keeping me grounded, safe.
He looks around us frantically, searching, looking for somewhere we can hide. It’s been years since I’ve seen this side of him. The protective one. The one who’d do anything to shelter me.
I can’t look away. I just wait. I wait for him to make it safe for me again. To be there for me.
Just as he once did.
“There,” he shouts to be heard over the ruckus. “There’s a cave.”
Another flash of light hits and it’s like someone has poured concrete in my feet. They won’t move. I’m planted here in the sand, my roots as deep as the palm trees.
Matthias curses again, and then I’m flying through the air.
It takes my brain a moment to catch up, to realize he’s thrown me over his shoulder. That he’s running with me through the storm.
Taking me to safety.
I know we’ve stepped under cover when the incessant rain turns to a steady drip. He lowers me to the floor, and I sink down, rough stone scratching against my back. My knees pull up, face dropping into my hands.
“Breathe, Wy,” Matt clasps my knees. “You’re safe, baby. Just breathe for me.”