Rebel Hearts

13. Jesse

13

JESSE

T he first few days after we got back from Summersea passed in a blur. I had to work a bunch of shifts to make up for the ones I’d missed over the weekend, and Mark said he’d been busy too. I wasn’t entirely sure what he’d been busy with , but then again, what did I know about hanging drywall?

Still, we managed to see each other. We grabbed a quick lunch with Gigi on Monday between my morning shift at Cardigan Cafe and my afternoon one at the Flamingo. And just last night, Mark had come to hang out with me at the bar while I worked. I’d tried to get him to bring Gigi with him to that, too. Not that I didn’t want to hang out with him alone, but I sort of thought she might like it.

Mark had stayed until I closed the bar, and even insisted on walking me home. I’d teased him for it, but secretly—okay, not so secretly—I thought it was really sweet. Maybe it came from years of dating girls, but he could be so weirdly traditional about things, and it cracked me up.

But then, when we’d reached my door, and I asked if he wanted to come inside, everything got weird. Mark stammered something about being too tired to be fun, and it hit me that he was probably having second thoughts or felt like we were moving too fast. So, like an idiot, I tried to convince him we didn’t have to do anything, that we could just cuddle and go to sleep, which only made it more awkward when he insisted he needed to go home.

Maybe he really had been tired? Nothing else made sense, and I spent the rest of the night tossing and turning, trying to figure it out. Even this afternoon, walking home after an exhausting shift at the cafe, I still wasn’t sure what to do.

Which made me even more confused when I saw Mark sitting on my front porch, waiting for me.

“What are you doing here?” I asked as I walked up the front walk. I cocked my head to the side when I got close. “And why do you look so sweaty?”

He smiled and shrugged. “I wanted to see you. And I knew you were getting off your shift soon, so I ran over.”

“You’re crazy.” I looked at him, bewildered. “You’re already running four times a week to train for a marathon. Why would you add more runs on top of that?”

“Well, it’s faster than walking.”

“So’s driving.”

He grimaced. “I don’t really like driving. Besides, it’s a beautiful day. Maybe I just want to have a picnic with my boyfriend without being given the third degree.”

“Boyfriend, huh?” I said with a grin. “I like the sound of that.”

Mark stood up and wrapped his arms around me. “Me too,” he said, before he kissed me so hard I forgot where I was for a second.

That was the thing I couldn’t work out. How could he be having second thoughts if he was so handsy every time we saw each other? Not that I was complaining, mind you. By the time Mark’s right hand slid down my back and underneath my shirt, I was practically tingling.

“Hold that thought,” I said breathlessly. “A picnic sounds excellent. But I’m covered in coffee fumes and foamed milk. Just give me five minutes to shower.”

He kissed me again, licking my lower lip before pulling away. “I think you smell amazing already,” he said with a smile. “But fine. I suppose I can wait.”

Mark sprawled out on my bed to wait while I hopped in the shower. The thought of him lying there was all the encouragement I needed to be fast. If he wanted to spend time with me, I wanted to take advantage of every minute I could, for as long as I could.

I was just rinsing the shampoo out of my hair when the bathroom door creaked. It only made that sound when someone opened it.

“Hello?” I called out from the shower. Maybe it was one of my roommates?

“I changed my mind.” Mark’s voice filtered in from the hall. “I can’t wait.”

I turned around to see a flurry of blurred movements through the textured glass of the shower door. What was he doing? Was he…getting undressed? Before I could decide, Mark opened the shower door and answered the question for me.

“Hi,” he said, a lopsided grin on his face. “Move over and let me in before we let all the steam out.”

Wordlessly, I stepped back to make space. I couldn’t quite form a full sentence. I was too busy staring at his gorgeous, naked form. Sure, I’d already seen all of him at the Sea Glass Inn. But seeing him again just made me realize that my memory hadn’t been doing him justice. So much for getting clean. His body made me want to do all sorts of dirty things.

“Why are you staring?” he asked, tilting his head.

“I still can’t believe this is real.”

He stepped forward, backing me up to the wall and bracing his arms against it on either side of my head. He kissed me, slow and sweet, his silky tongue sliding against mine before he pulled back. “Does it seem real now?”

“I mean, a little,” I said. I laughed, nervously, and clamped down on it when I realized it sounded like a giggle. It wasn’t fair. Mark had no right to be so hot and make me so flustered. “Real- er . But I’m still not sure.”

His hands snaked down my body, tracing my sides before moving back to cup my ass. He massaged it gently, and my mouth opened, letting out a gasp of pleasure. “How about now?” he asked, kissing my jaw.

“Almost,” I said, trying to get a hold of myself. “But something still—”

He took hold of my cock, pulling it up and stroking it. I’d been halfway hard already and I was fully erect within seconds. I reached out and found his dick with my hand, stroking it as he leaned down to kiss me again, hot water splashing down around us.

“How likely do you think you think it would be for me to slip and fall and kill myself if I tried to suck you off right now?” he asked, his smile curving wickedly.

I laughed. “I mean, I’m not going to tell you not to try, but you know your own balance best.”

“Yeah, but you’re more of an expert in shower sex, I’m assuming.”

“Oh I am, am I?”

“Well, considering that I’ve never even done anything remotely sexual in the shower, you’d pretty much have to be.”

“You’ve never even jerked off in the shower?” I snickered, still stroking him. “That seems unlikely. Showers are the best place for sexual fantasies. You’re alone. It’s all hot and wet…”

“There was one bathroom in our house growing up,” Mark said, “and the first time I tried masturbating in there, when I was thirteen, my dad walked in on me in the middle. ”

“Oh my God. Scarring.”

“Tell me about it. He walked out immediately, and we never spoke of it again, but for years, I was too nervous to do anything unless the door was locked.”

I leaned forward and nipped at his lower lip. “Door’s not locked now, you know.”

“Maybe you make me reckless. Or maybe I just think it would serve your roommates right, if they walked in on us. Help even the scales for all the nights they’ve kept you awake.” He grinned. “Come on, let me make your shower fantasies come true.”

He started to sink to his knees, but I shook my head. He tilted his to the side in question.

“Not in the mood? Or do you really think I will kill myself?”

“Neither,” I said, my heartbeat speeding up. “I just…well, I wouldn’t call myself an expert in this particular arena, but there’s something I’ve always wanted to try. And you’d be able to stay on your feet for it.”

“You want to suck me off?” Mark said, his brow furrowed. “Not that I don’t appreciate the offer but—”

“No.” I shook my head. “No, that’s not what I meant. What I meant was—” I paused, taking a deep breath, then said in a rush, “Would you fuck me?”

Mark’s eyes went wide. “Really?”

“Obviously only if you want to. I don’t want to push you or anything. But if we’re talking fantasies, well, that’s kind of always been one of mine.”

“Do you have condoms?” he asked. “And lube?”

“Medicine cabinet. Bottom shelf.” I bit my lip. “You’re really sure?”

He grinned. “Slightly terrified that I’m still going to lose my balance and kill myself, or you, but also, fuck yes, I’m sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Should I say it? I didn’t want to ruin the mood or make things awkward, but I didn’t feel right not bringing it up. Besides, Mark had called me his boyfriend. You were supposed to be able to talk about things with your boyfriend.

“I know you keep saying that you want this, but I just…” I swallowed before continuing. “When I asked if you wanted to spend the night last night, you said no. It felt awkward and I just, I figured it was because you wanted some more time, or you weren’t sure about this. About us.”

Mark shook his head. “Fuck. I knew I handled that badly. I couldn’t stop thinking about it last night.”

“Me neither, but—”

“I was just in a bad mood, Jesse. And I really was tired. I didn’t want to be a burden on you. I wasn’t going to be any fun and I thought it was just better if I went home. But trust me. I want you. All of you.”

“Oh. Well I feel kind of stupid now, but I guess that’s good to know.” I inhaled sharply as Mark stroked my cock again.

“Don’t feel stupid.” He kissed me deeply. “Feel amazing. Because that’s what you are. And that’s how you make me feel.”

I shivered as he opened the shower door, and a blast of cool air entered. I could hear him rummaging around in the cabinet. Was this really happening? I wasn’t kidding when I’d said this was a fantasy of mine, ever since I saw Top Gun as a teenager and couldn’t stop thinking about getting pushed up against a wall and absolutely railed in a locker room by Val Kilmer.

I pushed the showerhead to the side—that was not the kind of pounding I wanted—and smiled as Mark slipped back into the shower, condom packet and bottle of lube in hand. I took them from him, setting the condom to the side and flicking the cap open on the lube.

“So how do we, um, do it?” he asked, smiling nervously.

“Well, Mark, when a man and another man like each other very much, they give each other a special kind of hug, where all parts of their bodies touch, even their bathing suit areas.”

“I know that,” he said, flicking my ear. “I meant like—I mean, don’t you kind of have to prep for it? I don’t think me just shoving it in there is part of the fantasy.”

“You’d be surprised. But yeah, let’s keep things vanilla for now.” I laughed. “Here, give me your hand.”

“Vanilla, huh?” Mark said, extending his hand to me, palm up. “We might need to revisit that topic later. I’m intrigued.”

“Oh believe me, we can revisit all sorts of things,” I said, squeezing lube onto his fingers. “Any time you want. But for now…” I turned around and looked over my shoulder. “For now, I just want you inside me.”

“Fuck,” Mark whispered as he stepped up behind me. His cock rested on my asscheeks as his fingers slid down to my hole. His hand was warm and wet, and he slid one finger inside me easily.

I moaned as he slid it out and back in again. “God yes, just like that. Keep going.”

I meant that he should add another finger, but instead, he kept fucking the first one in and out of me—which wasn’t bad at all. Fuck, it was great. But I needed more of him. I needed all of him.

“Another,” I said, looking back over my shoulder.

“Already?” he asked.

“Already,” I said. “I need it like, yesterday.”

“Bossy, aren’t you?” He nipped at my earlobe and I whined.

“You seem to like it,” I said—and then moaned again as he added a second finger.

“I like all of you,” he said.

It wasn’t long until I was demanding a third, desperate for this part to be over, for him to be fucking me for real, and he’d barely gotten a third finger inside me before I demanded what I really wanted.

“Just fuck me,” I begged. “Please. I need it.”

Mark slipped his fingers out, and underneath the sound of the water, I heard him tearing the condom packet open. The lube made slick, wet sounds as he coated his cock and brought it to my entrance. I braced my arms against the wall, waiting for him to push inside, but he didn’t. I waited for a long moment, listening to his breath mix with the steam in the air, before looking back.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

I flushed with warmth at his words, a good sort of shiver running through me. His features were so serious.

“You’re not going to hurt me, I promise.”

“But we barely took any time to prep.”

“You calling me easy?” I said, arching an eyebrow and hoping the joke would make him smile. But he just frowned.

“What? No, of course not. Shit, did I say something that—”

“No, no, you’re fine.” I shook my head. “I was just joking, like, you know, it didn’t take long to get me ready because I was already loose. Because I’m slutty or—” I broke off, laughing helplessly at the dismay on his face. “Please don’t worry about it. It wasn’t even that funny, but I swear, I was just trying to make you laugh.”

“I just don’t want to fuck this up.”

“You won’t. It’s going to be amazing. Trust me, I’ve been fantasizing about this for so long, there’s no way it couldn’t.”

“Oh, good. No pressure, then.”

I turned all the way around and wrapped my arms around his neck, his cock sliding up against my stomach. I pressed a kiss to his lips, then pulled back to look him in the eye.

“You’re going to be fine. And I’m going to be fine. And if our first time together isn’t all rainbows and unicorns, you know what? We get to do it again. And again. And practice until we get it right, okay?”

Mark looked down at me, a funny look on his face. “You’re great,” he said. “You know that?”

“Right back at you.” I kissed the tip of his nose, then faced the wall again.

He stepped up behind me and I shivered again as the tip of his cock touched my hole. He kissed my cheek, then my neck, then my shoulder blade. And then he pushed himself inside.

I couldn’t contain a moan as his cock filled me up. He breathed heavily behind me, driving into me in a slow, steady stroke. I arched my back as he bottomed out, exhaling deeply.

“Fuck, Jess, you’re so tight.”

“And you’re fucking huge.”

“Is it okay? If it’s too much, I can pull out. We don’t have to—”

“Don’t you fucking dare. Pull out, and you really will end up dead in this shower, but it’ll be because I murdered you for denying me your dick.”

Mark laughed, deep and rumbly. “You really know how to talk dirty, huh?”

The truth was, I maybe had pushed things just a little bit fast. It had been so long since I’d been with anyone, but I’d never been with a guy as big as Mark. I concentrated on my breathing while I let my body adjust to his girth. I could feel my hole stretching to accommodate him, and it felt unbelievably good.

Mark leaned up against me, pressing his chest to my back, and the pressure deepened. I gasped, and he laid his left hand on top of mine, up on the wall. He laced our fingers together as he grabbed my cock with his other hand.

He started to stroke my cock and pump into my hole at the same time, and I just about lost it. He nipped at my earlobe, then bit gently on my shoulder. His possessive touch sent shivers through my body, and I whispered his name as he thrust into me.

Mark’s motions grew smoother, bigger, and I gave in to the rhythm, a pulsing pleasure building at my core. It had been too long, and with Mark jerking me off as he fucked me, I knew I couldn’t last.

“Fuck me,” I begged, my voice ragged. “Fuck me. Just like that. Don’t stop.”

And he didn’t. I surrendered to his grinding, insistent demands, pushing back onto his cock, meeting his thrusts. Water cascaded down next to us, and the steam in the air was so thick that I couldn’t see clearly. But I didn’t need to see. I just needed to feel. Mark’s hands. Mark’s lips. Mark’s cock.

“Don’t stop,” I begged again, right on the edge. “Fuck yes. Yes. Fuck. Don’t. Fucking. Stop.”

I came suddenly, shuddering, my forehead resting against the shower wall as Mark stroked me through it. It was hard and fast, and I was breathless by the end, whimpering in pleasure. The sight of me coming must have snapped something in Mark, because he grew even more forceful after that, his cock plunging into me, erasing every sense except a floating, endless heat. He trembled when he came, his right hand gripping my hip, his cock throbbing deep inside me until, finally, he was still.

A languid glow took me over, and I sighed a little as Mark pulled out. I turned around, leaning my back against the tiled wall, and pulled him in for a kiss.

“See,” I said, pulling back but keeping my arms locked around his neck. “I told you it would be amazing.”

Mark looked into my eyes, his pupils dilated, and he laughed, deep and sweet, like honey over rocks. “I should have listened.”

“Probably a good habit to get into,” I said, flashing him a smile. “I am always right, after all.”

“And it was okay at the end? I wasn’t too rough?”

“You were incredible.”

Mark’s grin grew bigger. “Good. Because you deserve incredible. But maybe we should practice some more anyway. Just to be sure we’re doing the absolute best job we can.”

“Who knows? Give us a year and we might even perfect it.” I stopped, hearing my own words, and tried to laugh it off. “Not that I’m saying we still have to be together—I mean, not that I don’t want to be together, but—God, sorry. I’m awkward. I didn’t mean we have to plan our entire future right now, is what I’m trying to say.”

“Jesse, you’re good. I like it. I see a future with you.”

My heart soared as he kissed me again. Everything was going to be fine. I’d just been overreacting earlier. Mark clearly cared about me. Liked me. Wanted me. And he said he saw a future with me.

Everything was going to be fine.

Right?

“Bartender, I’ll take a thousand-year-old Scotch, neat. Make it your peatiest.”

I looked up from slicing lime wedges to see Brooklyn saunter into the Flamingo a few weeks later, an arrogant look on his face. I raised an eyebrow, and he cracked immediately.

“Or you could just make me something sweet with an umbrella on the rim. Because brown liquor is disgusting.”

“That’s the Brooklyn I know and love.” I smiled as he walked over. Even on my crappiest days, Brooklyn could make things seem a little brighter.

I decided to make him a whiskey sour, just to prove him wrong about the brown liquor thing. I knew he’d like it—I used my own recipe for homemade sour mix—and I turned to grab the bottles while he took a seat at the bar. Everybody liked a whiskey sour, even guys so intent on proving their masculinity that they would look askance at a drink with any sweetness.

“How’d the meeting with the bank go?” Brooklyn asked as I measured out the whiskey.

“Okay.” I shrugged and turned back to face him, still mixing the drink. “I got approved for a loan, but not the amount I was hoping for. And the interest rate is horrifying to contemplate. If I had a bigger down payment, things would look better, but as it is…”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

I made a face as I handed Brooklyn his drink. “Maybe. Or maybe Cam will decide he wants to sell to that developer anyway. At this point, I’m just rooting for him to take pity on me.”

“Didn’t he tell you he didn’t care about the money?”

“Yeah, but it’s one thing to say that, and another one to actually follow through on it.”

“Yeah, but he wouldn’t jerk you around like that. He keeps inviting you out there, doesn’t he? He likes you.”

“He tolerates me. Which is to say, he looks very uncomfortable whenever I get within five feet of him, and then forgets I’m even in the room, the second he gets distracted by one of his books.” I snorted. “You know, come to think of it, maybe I should tell Cam that Mark is the one who’s really making the offer, because I think Cam does actually like him.”

“Oh, really? Is he as obsessed with how Mark looks shirtless as you are?”

“I doubt it,” I said, laughing. “But on the Sunday morning that we were out there at the Sea Glass, Mark not only insisted on going for a twelve-mile run—which, ugh—but he decided to inspect the water damage Cam had mentioned up on the second floor, and he informed Cam that it’s not as bad as it appears. He also got the air conditioning up and running again.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah. And he insisted on leaving a note explaining what he’d done, telling Cam to call if it broke again.”

“Wow. Did he?”

“Of course not. I’m sure Cam forgot we both existed the minute we left. But I’m still pretty sure he likes Mark better than me.”

“Maybe you really should tell him that Mark is buying the place with you. Bring him to the closing and everything. Keep the ruse up.”

“God, I wish.”

Brooklyn gave me a considering look. “Do you think he would?”

“What? Go to the closing with me?”

“That…or buy the place with you.”

I sighed. “That’s a complicated question.”

“What’s complicated about it?”

“Well, for starters, there’s the fact that buying real estate with someone is a huge deal, and Mark and I have only known each other a few months.”

Brooklyn’s eyes narrowed. “And?”

“That’s not enough?” I asked.

“It would be, except you said ‘ for starters ,’ which implies there’s something more on your mind.”

I sighed again. “Like I said, it’s complicated.”

Brooklyn frowned. “Is something wrong? Are you having second thoughts about things with him?”

“What? No, of course not.”

“Okay, then what gives? I thought things were great between you.”

“They are great. Really. They are. Mark is so sweet. And he’s funny, and kind, and strong, and I know he likes me. And the sex—God, the sex is amazing.”

“Go on,” Brooklyn said with a lecherous grin.

I threw a lime wedge at him. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“What? I’m a little starved for the male body at the moment, sue me. Anyway, it’s fine,” he said, squeezing the lime into his drink. “I can imagine.”

“Imagine someone else, creeper, and not my boyfriend and me together.”

Brooklyn whistled. “Boyfriend. I didn’t realize you were using that word.”

“We are,” I said, grinning. But then the grin went sideways. “But that’s why it’s all so confusing. Everything’s great between us, except it just feels like there’s something…not missing, exactly. But something in the way. Something keeping Mark aloof.”

A round of pint glasses came out of the washer at that moment, and I began drying them off and restacking them.

“How do you mean?” Brooklyn asked.

“I don’t know. It’s just weird. Like, ninety-nine percent of the time, when Mark is with me, I can tell he’s there. Present. Totally on. But then there’s this one percent where he just kinda…it’s like he goes somewhere else, mentally. And he still never talks about his family or his friends back home. It’s like he’s trying to pretend that the life he had before he came here doesn’t exist.”

“What if he had a fight with all those people? Or what he came out to them, and everyone rejected him?” Brooklyn took a sip of his drink. “Maybe people don’t approve of him being bi. There are plenty of reasons he might not want to talk about his past.”

“Yeah, maybe. But sometimes I’ll ask him to hang out, and he’ll say he can’t, but when I ask him why, he gets sketchy about it. If he really can’t come over at a certain time because he promised Gigi he’d run an errand or something, that’s fine. But I can’t shake the feeling that he’s hiding something.” I paused, embarrassed of what I was about to say. “And then there’s the fact that he never wants to sleep over at my place, or have me stay at his. That’s kind of weird, right?”

Brooklyn cocked his head. “Wait, but you guys are, like, intimate, right? I mean, you just said the sex was amazing.”

“Yes, pervert. We’re intimate .”

“Just checking.” Brooklyn raised his hands defensively. “None of those things sounds like a huge issue on its own. Maybe Gigi needs more help than she lets on and she doesn’t want Mark to tell people. Maybe he’s just a light sleeper and doesn’t sleep well with someone else in the bed. Maybe he has a sleep apnea machine he's ashamed of or something.”

“Or maybe he’s the one having second thoughts,” I burst out. “Second thoughts about me, and us, and about whether he’s ready to date a guy or something. Like, what if you’re right? What if his friends and family don’t approve? I can’t imagine what it would be like to have people who wouldn’t accept me for who I was. Maybe he just wants to go back to dating women.”

“Jesse.” Brooklyn folded his arms on the bar and gave me a steady look. “I highly doubt that. But why don’t you just ask him? That kinda seems like the obvious solution here. Just tell Mark how you feel and use ‘ I statements ’ and all that, and ask if he’s having second thoughts.”

“But what if he says he is?”

Brooklyn’s eyes were kind. “Well, then you’ll know. And it’ll suck. But that’s gotta be better than not knowing, right? Better than just spinning around in circles?”

“Easy for you to say. I’m the one who’d go back to being depressed and alone again.”

“But I’ll be here for you. And you’ll have the Sea Glass to pay attention to. And hey, look at it this way. With your current jobs, you have access to all the vices you need to drown your sorrows. Sugar. Booze. You could take up smoking, just to round things out.”

“Very funny.”

“I am, aren’t I?” Brooklyn grinned. “Hey, he’s coming to my birthday thing, right? Why not ask him afterwards? Get him a little tipsy, give yourself some liquid courage, and then ask him on your way home.”

“Yeah, about that. I haven’t actually, uh, told Mark about your birthday yet. Or asked him to come.”

“What? But it’s tomorrow. And it’s right here. It’s not like you’re asking him to fly to London.”

“I know, but I didn’t want to push him away by being too clingy.” My reasoning sounded ridiculous as soon as I said it out loud.

“Just ask him, you idiot,” Brooklyn said. “He's your boyfriend, isn't he? He’ll say yes. And then you can just talk about it like normal, functioning adults.”

“See, there you go, making assumptions. When did I ever claim to be a functioning adult? I pretty much only fall for guys who end up not wanting to be with me, according to my track record anyway. Why should Mark be any different?”

“Because you seem so much happier and calmer with him than you ever did with Tanner,” Brooklyn shot back. “Look, you don’t have to take my advice. You could just keep quiet, and never say what’s on your mind, and never ask for your feelings to be taken seriously by the one person who’s supposed to take them more seriously than anyone else. You could just wait and see if it gets better on its own, like you did with Tanner. But do you really want to do that?”

“Ugh. No.” I knew Brooklyn had a point. I just didn’t like it. “Why are you always right? It’s so annoying.”

“Just doing my job.” He smiled. “Now you do yours.”

I could do that, right? Just ask Mark what was going on? Just tell him how I felt?

I could totally do that.

So why did I have the feeling it was going to go terribly, terribly wrong?