15. Zach
ZACH
I stare out the window while Nate sees Patrick, my therapist, out.
My therapist.
It’s weird to think I even have one. We’ve agreed to twice-weekly sessions, which feels like a lot, but will hopefully help me sort my messy head out faster. I’m not sure how I’m ever going to repay Nate for this. I know he’s my caregiver right now, but this feels like too much.
Nate puts his arms around me and nuzzles my jaw. “How are you feeling, sweet boy?”
“Drained,” I admit. “It was exhausting.”
“But helpful?”
“Yes, I think so. We talked about what happened and how it made me feel. He’s given me some grounding exercises, and we discussed what I hope to get out of the sessions.”
“That all sounds very positive.”
“It is.” I raise my hand and stroke his beard. “Thank you, Daddy.”
“You’re welcome.”
I gesture to the window. “Do you play?”
“Golf or tennis?”
“Either.”
“I play tennis. I’m not very good, but I play. I tried golf once. One of my clients invited me to play with them.”
“You didn’t like it?”
“No. It was boring.”
I chuckle and lean against his chest. “I’ve never played either.”
“We can go bat a ball around if you want?”
I shake my head. “Not right now.” I turn around and wrap my arms around Nate’s neck, pressing against him. “I just want to be held right now.”
He tightens his grip on me, holding me close. “Whatever you need, baby.”
“I need you, Daddy.”
I press my lips to his, yielding the moment he takes control. I run my fingers through his hair, tickle the nape of his neck, and clutch the back of his shirt. I need to lose myself in him. I need him to be a balm to all the raw wounds the therapy session opened up. I just need him.
He breaks the kiss and uses his thumb to wipe the stray tear winding its way down my cheek.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“What are you sorry for?”
“Being needy. Crying on you again.”
“You can cry on me as much as you need to. Obviously I’d rather you didn’t need to, but crying isn’t weak, sweet boy. Asking for help isn’t weak. Nor is asking to be held.”
“I want more.”
“What do you want?”
I fiddle with his shirt buttons, focusing on them rather than him. “I told you. I need you, Daddy. I need you inside me.”
He cups my cheek. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” I look into his eyes. “I’ve never been more sure about anything.”
“If you haven’t had sex in a while—”
I kiss him. “I’ve played with toys.” My stomach flip-flops. “Oh, God. What if she went through my things? What if she found my toys?”
Nate pulls me closer, stroking and kissing my hair. “Don’t think about that now.”
I press my head against his chest, fresh tears overwhelming me. He holds me as I sob. It’s ridiculous. I don’t know that she touched any of my things. But she did go into my bedroom. I know she went into my bedroom. The rose petals led there.
“I’m sorry. Everything’s fresh and raw from the therapy session and… Fuck! I’m messing everything up. I want you, and I’m fucking it up.”
“I’ve got you,” Nate promises.
“I want to be close to you,” I gasp. “I want you inside me, Daddy. I want… I want to feel something good and wonderful. I want to think about nothing but you.” I pull away and tug my hand through my hair. “And now I sound needy as fuck.”
Nate hugs me from behind, kissing my neck. “I’ve got you. Let me hold you, sweet boy.”
I turn into his embrace again, resting my cheek on his shoulder, my arms wrapped loosely around his back.
Even standing, he manages to rock me from side to side, the action calming.
I close my eyes, allowing everything to drift away except the strength of his embrace, the steady beat of his heart, the soft puff of his breath against my ear and temple, and the spicy scent of his deodorant.
I let him become my rock. My anchor. The center of my universe.
I let him bring calm to the chaos of my thoughts and emotions.
In his arms, I can let everything drift away.
“You’re not fucking anything up,” he says softly. “Did you talk to Patrick about going back to your apartment, or letting it go?”
I nod.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“I told him I was scared to let it go, even though I can’t afford to keep it.”
“Why, baby?”
“Because it means I’d be completely dependent on Phoenix allowing me to stay at Halo House, and that’s… That’s scary.”
“Why?”
I snuffle a weak laugh. “You remind me of me when I was five. That was the only question I ever asked. Every answer led to another ‘why’.”
He chuckles. “My niece and nephew were like that, too.”
“It’s cute.”
“I’m not sure their parents thought it was cute.”
“No, mine probably didn’t, either.” I open my eyes and trace my finger over his shirt’s shoulder seam. “What if someone who needs the room more shows up?”
“Is Halo House full?”
“No, but…”
“You’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“You promise?”
“Yes. What about going back there, to collect your things?”
I shrug. “He said it was my call, that it might help to go back and try to reclaim the space.”
“I’d go with you,” Nate promises. “Whenever you want to.”
“Thank you. Part of me thinks I should just get it over and done with, like ripping a plaster off. Uh, a Band-Aid. The faster I do it, the faster I’ll know whether I’ll be able to live there again.” I shudder. “Although I don’t think I could while I know she’s not in jail. Will she go to jail?”
“I don’t know, baby.”
“I should do it.”
“Go to your apartment?”
“Yes. Not to reclaim it. I don’t think I could ever do that. But to get my things. My toys were expensive.”
Nate laughs gently. “We can always get you new ones, sweet boy. I’ll treat you.”
I lift my head and stroke his beard. “I’d rather feel you inside me, Daddy. Please?”
We haven’t taken that step yet, despite getting each other off via other means. Maybe he doesn’t want to.
“Are you sure that’s what you need?”
“It is.”
“And you’re sure it’s what you want?”
“Yes. Unless… You don’t?”
“Oh, baby. I do. I can’t tell you how much I want to.”
“Then… Why haven’t we?”
Nate kisses me softly. “You haven’t asked, sweetheart. I didn’t want to push you into something you weren’t ready for or didn’t want.”
“I’m asking now, Daddy.”
He maneuvers me so he can press me against the wall beside the window, and kisses me hard, his tongue claiming my mouth, his hand sliding beneath my T-shirt to caress me.
I let my hands rove, too, tugging his shirt out of his trousers, pushing his jacket off his shoulders.
I undo his shirt buttons, and he lifts my T-shirt over my head, throwing it onto the floor.
He makes short work of unbuttoning my jeans and pulling the zipper down, before sliding his hand into my underwear to caress my cock, which hardens at his touch.
“Not here,” he says, before pressing desperate kisses to my neck.
He pulls me away from the wall, tugging me into the bedroom, and pushing me onto the bed.
He kneels between my spread legs, kissing me as I tug his shirt sleeves off his powerful arms. I fumble with his belt and then get his trousers undone, my actions frantic.
My body is tingling, my pulse racing. I’m breathless from desire.
His strong presence is all-encompassing.
His mouth against mine, the sensual flicks of his tongue, the nip of his teeth, his body pressed to mine, the hardness of his cock, the power in his arms as he pins me to the bed.
I’ve never wanted someone so much. We’re naked before I know it, our clothes a messy heap on the floor.
“Let me get some lube,” Nate gasps. “And a condom.”
I don’t want him to move, but I know he has to. I lay, breathing hard and staring at the ceiling for the few seconds it takes him to get supplies. Then he’s over me again, kissing me, touching and tasting me. He makes everything fade away. Every fear, every worry. Nothing matters but him.
He squeezes lube over his fingertips and then teases my hole, smiling as I gasp. “Are you ready?”
I press my fingers against his back, holding him tighter, feeling the way his muscles move beneath his silky skin. “Yes!”
He eases a finger inside me. My eyelashes flutter, and I groan. Playing with myself never feels this good, or this relaxing. I pant as he pushes deeper. It’s been so long since another man has warmed me up or fucked me. Far too fucking long.
“You good?” he asks, his brow pinching in worry.
“Uh-huh.” I nod to make up for my inability to speak.
I raise my knees and let them fall to the side, spreading my thighs as far as they’ll go to open myself up for him.
He keeps kissing me, alternating between gliding his tongue into my mouth and pressing his lips against my jaw and neck.
His touch is so tender. He seems to understand every whimper, every groan, every tiny movement I make.
He knows when to push deeper, when to release the pressure, and when to crook his finger to drive me wild.
He knows when I need him to smother my mouth and when I need him to stare into my eyes.
This man is all kinds of amazing and knows how to take care of me in ways I didn’t realize I needed.
He takes his time warming me up, even though I’m desperate to have more than his fingers inside me.
I can’t decide if he’s edging me or making sure I’m ready for his cock.
Probably a bit of both. Whatever the reason, I’m a mushy mess of need by the time he slips his fingers free and rolls the condom onto his leaking cock.
He applies plenty of lube and then threads his fingers through mine, holding my hands against the bed on either side of my head.
He leans down and kisses me harder and more fiercely than ever before.
Then he’s sliding inside me, slowly, gently, filling me up.
I moan against his lips. This is better than I imagined.
He’s better than I imagined. He feels so fucking good inside me.
I wrap my legs around him, moving my hips in time with his, inviting him into me until he’s balls deep.
He starts slow, always kissing me. Our grips tighten on each other’s hands.
I squeeze my legs around him. I need him.
I want him. As my balls get heavier and the tingling in my groin gets so intense I can barely stand it, he quickens his pace, his balls slapping against me.
Our lips break apart, and he stares into my eyes as we grunt and groan, pant and moan.
Something in his eyes makes my heart stutter.
There’s lust in his eyes, but so much more.
A tender softness I’ve never encountered before.
My breath escapes my lungs, and then I’m coming, my orgasm slamming into me harder than I expect.
I arch my back and squeeze my eyes shut as the almost violent wave crashes through me.
He comes right after, grunting as he slams hard into me.
With a gasp, he collapses. We’re hot and sweaty. I’m trembling.
“You were amazing, sweet boy.” He kisses my neck.
“Me? You did all the work, Daddy. That was— Wow! I—” I have no words. I lick my lips and then wrap my arms around him. I let my legs slip onto the bed. I’m tingling and can’t catch my breath. I can’t remember ever feeling this sated. This happy.
He starts to move, so I hold him tighter.
“No, Daddy. Don’t move. Stay inside me.”
He relaxes, shifting just enough that he can lay his head on the pillow beside me. He gazes at me, smiling. “Thank you, sweet boy.”
I frown. “What are you thanking me for?”
He crooks his finger and strokes his knuckle across my cheekbone, before brushing stray strands of sweat-soaked hair away from my face. “For letting me be with you. In you.” He pinches his lips in thought. “Do you ever top?”
“Yes. A lot of the guys I’ve been with have insisted on it.”
“I sense a but.”
“I… I prefer to bottom. I don’t know why. It’s just more… fulfilling for me.” I laugh and cover my face with my hand. “That wasn’t meant to be a pun.”
“I’m happy to top from the bottom, if you ever want me to.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think I will.” But it’s still good to know the option’s there if the need takes me. “One day, soon, will you take me while I’m blindfolded and tied up?”
He smiles. “I’d love to, baby. Just say the word. I’m glad you trust me enough to want that.”
“I do.” The thought popped into my head as a hungry need. I trust Nate so utterly and completely. “Daddy… Will you come to my apartment with me on Saturday?” I know he’s already offered, more than once, but I still feel the need to ask.
“Yes.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, sweet boy. What do you need right now?”
“To stay like this. Hold me?”
He wraps me in his comforting embrace, telling me without words that everything is going to be okay.