28. Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Hugo
T his doesn’t mean anything.
Axel could tell himself that. As I closed my front door, I could tell myself that.
But it’d be a lie.
This meant everything .
Axel stood in my living room, slowly spinning. Taking in the couch, the recliner, the television, and the bookcase.
Maybe he’s interested in my reading preferences . Mysteries, thrillers, literary masterpieces, and a couple of gay romances. Most of the ones I read were on my eReader. Occasionally, though, I came across a book I loved so much that I needed a paperback to admire.
None of which would be of any interest to him. “Would you like a drink of water?”
“I want you to fuck me.”
Well, okay then. Nothing like bluntness.
Finally, he met my gaze. “Or I can fuck you. Except I wouldn’t know what I was doing. I mean, I’ve fucked—” He winced. “I’ve made love with plenty of women. So that part I understand. I mean, and I obviously understand gay sex. You don’t live with a closeted best friend and roommate without learning a few things. I mean, I never slept with him, or—”
I raised my hand in an attempt to halt his rambling. “Did you walk here?”
Slowly, he nodded.
“Then you need a glass of water. It’s a warm day and you’re sweating.”
He sniffed his pits. “Shit.”
I laughed. “Axel, I don’t care. But you need to replenish fluids. Especially if we’re going to…do other things.”
“Can I borrow your shower?”
“As long as you take a bottle of water in with you.” I was dead serious about this. I really didn’t care how he smelled—but there was a sweaty sheen to his skin, and I’d worry continuously if he didn’t replace fluids. “Or do you want some juice or something? Hell, I don’t even know if you have a medical—”
Within moments, he was right in my space. “I’ll take a fucking shower and I’ll drink fucking water and then one of us is fucking the other. I’ve waited…” Something flashed in those dark-brown eyes. “A fucking long time.”
“Yeah.” October felt like a million years ago at this point. Every night I’d dreamt of this moment. Many times I’d masturbated to the memory of his skin, his moans, and the memory of his hand wrapped around my cock. But, much as I wanted to, I couldn’t just throw him down on the mattress and fuck him.
Could I?
“We need to talk.”
His gaze turned feral. “I’ll leave.” He poked my chest. Hard. “I’m not here to talk. I’ve done enough talking. And enough thinking. Either fuck me or I walk back out the door.”
To what? What are you running from? Because as much as I wanted to believe my song had driven him here, I didn’t. Believe. No, something had happened. And if I chose to ignore that and just—as he put it—fuck him, I’d be contributing to the problem. I certainly wouldn’t be making it better. “Axel.”
He shook his head. “Either you find lube and a condom while I shower, or I walk out the door and you never see me again.”
Something tells me you’re going to do that anyway . The whole not meaning anything made that a strong possibility.
But, in the end, I knew I’d give in. Even if we only had today, I’d take it. “Lube and condoms.” Tentatively, I stroked down his cheek. “But water and shower first.” I didn’t care about the shower, but clearly he did. “And if you give me your clothes, I can wash them.” Because that’ll keep you here longer.
His eyes flashed with triumph. He toed off his sneakers, then pulled his soaked T-shirt over his head and tossed it at me. He unbuttoned his jeans, lowered the zipper, and removed them—along with his underwear—in one fluid move.
No missing the cock that already stood at half-mast. Apparently this discussion had just been foreplay to him.
Blood rushed to my own cock as I snagged all his clothes. “Grab a water bottle from the fridge. Bathroom is the last door on the right. My bedroom’s across from it. I’ll be waiting.” I didn’t know if taking charge was the correct thing to do—but it felt right.
He licked his lips. “Yeah, I can do that.” He stalked into the kitchen, offering me the most wonderful view of his glorious ass. All round, firm, and with just the right amount of jiggle. I’d seen that ass encased in leather pants or jeans quite a few times over the last few years, but I’d never felt the longing and need that coursed through me now. For just a moment, I took a deep breath.
I can do this. I can make it good for him.
And hell, I might just make it good for myself as well.
After the sound of the bathroom door closing reached my ears, I hustled down to the laundry. I emptied his jeans pockets, carefully gathering everything to bring back upstairs with me. I tossed in a few of my own dirty clothes to make a full load, then I set the washing machine. As soon as that was done, I scurried back upstairs. I found an extra charging cable and plugged in Axel’s phone. I wouldn’t ask if Ed knew he was here. I’d also resist the urge to ask if anyone might worry if he stayed longer than a few hours.
This doesn’t mean anything .
Yeah, except it meant everything.
You need to be naked .
Yet I had a momentary hesitation. I didn’t have the body of a twenty-eight-year-old man who kept himself in shape. Tipping over forty had encouraged me to do more exercise, but I focused on stamina rather than body sculpting. Stamina might stand you in good stead. If he cared what you looked like, he would’ve bolted in Black Rock. Or not come here at all.
I removed my T-shirt, jeans, and underwear. Carefully, I also set my phone on the charger. It might be Saturday, but I was always on call. Especially with Renee nearing her due date.
The shower shut off.
I grabbed the box of condoms and the lube. Didn’t have to brush off the dust—but only because I’d swapped out the old stuff when I’d returned from Nevada. I couldn’t have explained it—but I had zero regrets. The fact I had expired condoms was not a conversation I’d wanted to have.
I hopped onto the bed with my barely used bottle of lube—because masturbating hadn’t really been a thing recently—and a single condom. This was presumptuous as all hell, but better that I take the fucking part of the conversation seriously.
Axel entered the room and stopped short. He had a towel, turban-style, wrapped around his head. “Uh, sorry, my hair got a bit wet.”
His hair had grown so damn much since the summer. He was now able to put it in dreads. They gave him a very different feel. His hair more resembled Ed’s. The look was…more…mature? Definitely sexier. But way more work, as I’d learned over the years from students who embraced the look at even younger ages these days. I respected that kind of dedication. I shook away my thoughts. “I have a blow dryer. Uh, somewhere.” Wait…maybe I didn’t. Gavin had taken his, and since I never used one, I likely hadn’t replaced it.
“Uh, Hugo, I don’t think you do. At least not in the bathroom. Unless there’s another bathroom—”
I barked out a laugh. “Two-bedroom, one bathroom. What you see is pretty much what you get. I’ve crammed a single bed in with a desk into the second bedroom. The single bed in case I ever have a guest.”
“Do you ever?” His eyes lit with amusement before they flickered. “I’m sorry, that was rude.”
“To imply I don’t have anyone close enough to me to need a spare bed?” I waved him off. “Everyone close to me lives in Vancouver, so they never need a place. I hosted Renee’s third cousin once. Lovely man, surprisingly straight.”
Axel cocked his head.
I laughed. “Renee swore he was gay and that we’d make a lovely couple.” I snickered. “He wasn’t even closeted. But he was dating a refugee from Bangladesh and afraid his family wouldn’t approve.”
“They’re bigots?”
“Some random family member on his mother’s side. So not Renee’s branch. By the end of the weekend, I convinced him to be honest.” I grinned. “They’ve been married five years, and she was able to bring her kids to Canada a couple of years ago.”
“Oh. That’s amazing.”
“Yeah. I’ve never been so happy to be sort of set up with a straight guy.”
Axel burst out laughing. “Yeah, okay. You did good.” He lowered the towel. “But I didn’t come here to spend my time drying my hair.”
Knowing all the bad things that could happen if he didn’t had me holding up my hand. “You take all the time you need. Or I could run and get a blow dryer.” London Drugs would have several for me to pick from, and the store wasn’t far—
Axel held up his hand. “This doesn’t mean anything.”
“Right.” This isn’t going to happen again. And since blow drying your hair makes it frizzy, why would you want to spend the money on it? “Except I might have guests—” At his amusedly arched eyebrow, I desisted. Amusedly? Sarcastically? Could eyebrows be sarcastic? Focus on what’s really important . “I’ll do whatever you need.”
He left the room.
Well, okay then .
He returned. “I was not going to drop a wet towel on your genuine wood floors. Are these original to the house?”
“Uh, yeah. I had to sand and polish them when I moved it, but yeah, they’re original.” We’re talking about flooring? “Thanks for the consideration.”
His eyes flashed with something I might’ve thought was pain, but the look was gone too damn fast for me to put my finger on it.
“Ed might not say I was considerate.”
Ah. So…pain. “Do you want to talk about—”
“Hugo, I want to fuck. My hair’s fine. My cock is starting to get interested. I figure you’ve got tricks to get me fully engaged.” That might’ve come out on a leer.
My cock perked even as hesitation ate away at me. “We should talk, Axel.” Yet my mouth salivated as his chubby turned into a semi. He took himself in hand and tugged a couple of times.
Memories of October flooded back—shoving thoughts of talking to the back of my mind. We always had afterward…right?
This doesn’t mean anything.
He might not stick around.
That was a chance I had to take. I grasped my cock, giving it a couple of good strokes.
It sprang to life.
Axel grinned. “This is going to be so good.” He spotted the condom. “So…are you good with fucking me?”
I wasn’t a huge fan of the word fucking . First, Gavin had used it a lot. Second, on the few hookups I’d had, that word circled in my mind as I’d gone home with men to get my rocks off. Slowly, I shook my head.
Axel’s face fell and his brow knit.
“I’m going to make love to you, Axel. That’s what I want.”
Slowly, a grin spread across his face. “Yeah, that works for me.”
I waited for him to repeat his doesn’t mean anything comment, but he didn’t. Instead, he pointed to the lube. “So are you going to, you know? Or am I?”
A slow heat rose from my chest and settled in my cheeks. I might’ve hoped hidden under my beard, but Axel’s knowing smile assured me I wasn’t fooling anyone—least of all him. I cleared my throat. “Uh…I enjoy preparing my partners.” I also preferred doing it so I was certain they were adequately prepared. Some guys weren’t interested in that and didn’t mind a bit of pain. Me? I was all about pleasure.
Inch by inch, Axel approached the bed.
I scooted over to what I thought of as my side. Farthest away from the door, but facing the window, I could lie in bed and gaze out over my garden. That simple act was one of my small joys in life.
He cocked his head. “What were you just thinking of?”
“Lying in bed and looking at gardens, trees, and backyards.”
“Oh.” He smiled. “Not what I was expecting. Certainly nothing I’ve ever had experience with.” He winced. “All concrete jungles for me.”
I wanted to promise him a lie-in one day. With the sun shining in through the eastern window and the sun-drenched south-facing garden.
But he didn’t want to hear that. This doesn’t mean anything .
I could hope he was wrong…but something warned me this was a onetime thing.