Chapter 4 #2
“You see that?” Owen said under his breath to me before standing up. “I had no idea he even knew Green Bay was my team.”
Owen smiled at his son as they passed each other, and Cy said he would be right in.
I waited and was rewarded with his hand on my knee and his shining eyes as he looked down at me.
“What?”
“You look really comfortable in my parents’ home.”
“It’s like a damn hunting lodge. What’s not to like?”
“Can I have that kiss now?”
“Oh hell no,” I growled. “You didn’t want it earlier.”
“You were disgusting earlier, but now you’re all clean, and you smell good, and you’re warm.”
I grunted as he bent toward me, and I lifted for his mouth.
The kiss was chaste and sweet until he gently bit my lip and pressed for entrance.
I made a noise in the back of my throat as his tongue slid over mine, and I took hold of his jacket.
As I pulled him into my lap, his hands flattened on my chest, and he shifted around until he was across my thighs.
“You should go in,” I told him, breaking the kiss before it flared and consumed us.
“I’d much rather stay here and kiss you.”
“Weber!” Pip squealed from the door before launching himself at us.
The kids wanted attention, and only mine would do.
Since the weather had cleared enough to walk, I took three dogs and five kids for a stroll around the neighborhood.
When we got back, it was time to leave, since we had a long drive back to the city.
Lyn and Cy both had to work the following morning.
I was not surprised that Vanessa and Victoria loved on me hard, kissing and hugging me and putting their little heads on my shoulder when they said their goodbyes. Little girls with big hearts just melted me.
I was surprised, however, that Angie and Rachel both hugged me tight as well. Owen clasped my hand and held on to my shoulder, and even Brett gave me the guy clench and said, “Don’t be a stranger.”
“My family loved you,” Cy said as we pulled away from the curb, glancing at me for a second before heading downhill on the long, winding road.
I grunted. “They were just bein’ polite.”
“No,” Lyn said from the seat behind me. “Our family is never polite, and remember what Brett and that guy Ross said about you.”
“Wait, what?” Cy asked, his voice rising, brows furrowed. “Tell me what was said.”
“It don’t matter none,” I soothed him, hand on his thigh, squeezing, then leaning in and kissing him. “Get us home.”
He growled, which was adorable.
Once there, Cy having driven well through pouring rain, Lyn and the boys came in to have dinner, which ended up being spaghetti and garlic bread, salad and wine.
I let Tristan have a sip from my glass because he had learned in class, from one of the girls who did her country report on Italy, that there, kids drank wine from an early age.
I had no idea, but Cy agreed with him, so he got to have a swallow of my Chianti. He decided to stick with milk.
The kids didn’t want to leave, but Lyn insisted, promising them that they could definitely have a sleepover later in the week.
I told them I would see them all the next morning, and Pip wrapped around my leg, so I had to carry him that way back to the SUV.
It was nice that the rain had cleared, leaving a cold, crisp night.
After they were gone, I was rinsing the dishes, and washing the pots, when Cy came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist.
“Tell me what my idiot brother and his friend said.”
“Nothin’ that bears repeatin’.” I kissed his cheek. “Help me dry these.”
“I normally hate stubble on a man,” he told me, his voice low and sexy, “but on you it’s so fuckin’ hot.”
“’Cause you like how it feels on your ass.”
“Jesus,” he gasped, bumping me as he jolted. “Even your voice could make me come.”
I turned off the water, wiped my hands on my jeans, and grabbed him. The second I picked him up, his long legs wrapped around my waist and his arms snaked around my neck.
“How about your full-time job is fucking me?”
I snickered as I carried him toward his bedroom. “I’d be a kept man, would I?”
He opened his mouth to speak, but I squeezed his ass, and he shuddered instead, head back, breath catching as he clutched at me.
“Cy?” I teased him as I dropped him onto the bed.
He looked drugged as he lay there, sprawled across the comforter, staring up at me. “I want to point at you in a crowd and say he’s with me. I want to keep you and put a ring on your finger and come home every night to your face looking at me like I’m an idiot.”
“I never look at you like you’re an—”
“Yeah, you do. When I’ve done something particularly stupid, you do.”
“Well, of course, then.” I squinted at him. “That don’t make no—”
“You’re focusing on one part of what I said to avoid the rest, and I get it, I do. But last time you left, really, Web, my heart barely survived.”
I exhaled sharply and sat down on the side of the bed. “Well, then for crissakes, Cyrus, why didn’t you just tell me to go on and not stop and see you?”
“Because,” he said, sighing, tilting his head to look at me, “one of these days you are going to let me love you, and you’re going to stay.” I opened my mouth, but he lifted his hand to hush me. “Or maybe it’s time I looked for a job in Texas.”
It took a second, but the weight of his words finally sank in.
“Oh hell no!” I roared at him, getting up. “I gotta look for work in places that don’t got no hospitals or—”
“Fine. A clinic. I could open my own.”
I lifted up my hands. “Your life is here. Your family is here. The hospital where you work, that people know you’re at, is here! You don’t just—”
“You can find work, I can find work.”
“Oh, for the love of—”
“No!” he yelled, rolling off the bed, pulling off one of his lace-ups—because of course the man wore dress shoes on his days off—and flinging it at me.
I leaned out of the trajectory as he came around the bed.
“You’re the thing I don’t have, Weber Yates. You’re what I miss. You’re the part I only have when I know I can wake up in the morning and see your face.” He reached for me.
“I will not have you hatin’ me because you can’t be a surgeon no more,” I barked back, lifting my head away and back so he couldn’t touch me. “Bein’ a country doctor in some clinic in a little Podunk town ain’t gonna make you happy.”
“You make me happy,” he insisted, shoving me back hard, and being that close to the bed, I lost my balance and fell.
He was on me fast, straddling my chest, knees on my arms, pinning me to the bed. And though we were fighting, the thought crept in that it was hot being manhandled, and his cock was right there, close to my mouth, just beneath a layer of denim and cotton.
“No.” But he was suddenly smiling, and his voice had lost the sharp edge and was instead smooth and silky, reminding me of velvet.
“What no?”
“I am having a serious discussion with you! Do not gimme that look like you want to fuck me, because it won’t work.”
I smiled at him and saw him shiver. Never in my life had I been the hot guy or the sexy guy, but for whatever reason, I had a drugging effect on Cyrus Benning. I melted him, and he did the same to me.
“You could undo your belt and them jeans, slip down your underwear, and bury your dick in my throat. Whaddya say?”
“I… You… I’m going with you when you leave, Web, make no mistake. I don’t want to live like I have. I’m miserable without you, and I won’t go back. I won’t.”
Why would I argue…why? Well, I would, but later…much later. Not now, not when he had lifted to his knees, releasing my arms and unbuckling his belt and shucking his jeans like his life depended on it.
I pushed him off me and came down on top of him, feeling his hard cock pressed between us, hearing his loud, hoarse moan, and loving the scramble of his hands over my chest as he reached for me. The man was frantic to get a hold of me.
“Now it’s my turn to fill you up, Dr. Benning,” I told him, pulling off his other shoe and yanking his jeans over the long, sculpted legs. “And I ain’t using no rubber.”
He bowed up off the bed and ordered me to hurry in a voice I never heard before.
“Cy?” I smiled at him.
“Oh God, Weber, move! Get the fucking lube!”
No one ever wanted me the way he did, and for a second, before he’d screamed my name, I’d wondered if planning on leaving made me the stupidest man on the planet.
But when I leaned back to him, lube in hand, he walked his sock-covered feet up my chest, levering up off the bed, flipped back like he was doing one of those bicycle kicks in soccer, and held the pose.
The only parts of him touching the mattress were his shoulders, his pink, puckered hole right there for me.
All I had to do was bend forward and taste it.
I put a hand behind his thigh to help with his balance before I ran my tongue over his crease.
“Weber!”
“Love how you yell my name, Cy, fuckin’ love it.”
“Please, Web.” His voice cracked with the strain.
Normally, I stretched him, licked him, prepared him, and made sure he was ready for my dick.
“Just fuck me!”
Tonight that wasn’t what he wanted. Sometimes he liked it rough. He liked me to use him and pound him and make him scream. He had missed me badly.
I shoved my jeans and briefs down together, slicked my hard, leaking cock with lube, smeared some between his cheeks, spread them, and shoved my way inside his quivering hole. His body arched against mine as I drove in to the hilt.
“Fuck!”
His thighs were shaking as I folded him in half, bent over him so his legs slid over my shoulders, and thrust hard and deep.
“Jesus, Cy, you’re so fuckin’ tight.”
“Web… Weber,” he rasped, eyes locked on mine.
I had never been inside him without a condom. “You feel so good. God, so good.”
His harsh whimper tore through me, his arms flung to the sides, fisted in the comforter, trying to hold on, while he begged me to fill him up. The chanting was an endless litany of pleading.
“Grab your cock,” I growled.
“Don’t have to… Going to come with you just being inside… All I need.”
True to his word, as I plunged into him, hammering, pegging his gland, making him cry out with every stroke, he came over my abdomen, his muscles clenching on my shaft like a vise, fisting so tight I roared his name.
We were loud, and it was a gift that we could be, that we were safe in his house and could be however we wanted.
I emptied inside him, flooding his spasming tunnel, knowing it was coating him inside, spreading everywhere.
“Only you, Web,” he whispered. “You’re the only one who gets this. Ever.”
Ever.
The man was mine.
Heart, body, soul. All mine. I was such an idiot.
“Stop thinking,” he yelled at me, holding up his arms. “Kiss me. I wanna feel your heart beating.”
I eased his legs down gently and started to lean back, to slide free.
“Don’t. I need…closer.”
And I knew what he wanted, to be inside my skin, but I didn’t say anything, just rolled forward and wrapped him in my arms, skin to skin, lips locked together as I kissed him, taking his breath, his moan, everything.
I had never been held so tight.