Chapter 20
Oakley
I set my empty pint glass down on the bar top, the dull thunk barely audible over the chatter inside The Barrel.
Virginia raises an eyebrow. “Another?”
“No thanks,” I say.
I’m not looking to get drunk. I’m just…
I don’t know what. Trying to figure out how to broach the topic of relationships with my longtime friend I happen to be fucking who admitted he doesn’t even know how he feels about the idea of romantic attachments right now?
Christ.
“Is it the Darlings?” Virginia asks, her voice low enough not to carry.
My eyes whip to her. “What?”
“I know that look,” she says, waving a finger in front of my face. “It’s the I’m in over my head when it comes to a Darling brother look. I’ve seen it before, you know.”
“With Ash?” I ask, accepting the water she passes me. She and Ash were friends from before he came to town, as I learned from the man himself. They met back in college.
Virginia nods. “With him. And with Noah.”
I grunt, sipping the cold water.
“Y’all have been friends forever,” she says, not even needing to name Lawson. We both know. “Have things changed recently?”
“Is this not a little cliché?” I joke. “Me airing my problems to the bartender?”
Virginia’s lips quirk. “Pretend I’m still your neighbor if you want. Either way, I’ll keep my mouth shut about it. Even to Ash.”
I nod slowly, fingers getting wet from the condensation on my glass.
I draw a little horseshoe in the moisture before wiping it away with my thumb.
“Here’s the thing. I haven’t spent my life pining.
I really haven’t. I’ve been fine. Lawson was my friend and nothing more.
I didn’t feel like…like I was missing out on my one true love or anything like that. I…”
God, how do I even explain it?
“I lived my life, and I was fine. Until Lawson changed everything, and now I’ve got feelings, and there’s no shoving them back down again.”
“And the problem?” Virginia asks.
I swallow down another gulp of water. “The man just got out of a nineteen-year marriage. He’s figuring himself out, and he’s not there yet. I know he’s not. So I either push the issue for my benefit, knowing he’s not ready, I wait, or…”
“Or?”
“Or I protect myself,” I say, the mere idea of ending things with Lawson filling me with heavy dread. I don’t want to do that. Not in the least.
But if Lawson decides he wants to date men who aren’t me? Or…if a relationship isn’t something he’s interested in at all?
What then?
Could I let Lawson keep a hold of my heart, knowing he couldn’t offer the same?
Virginia hums softly, the sound barely audible. “What would be the worst-case scenario if you told him how you feel?”
“He’d do everything in his power to make me happy, even to the detriment of his own well-being and happiness, ’cause the man is too damn loyal for his own good.”
The second the words are out of my mouth, I freeze.
I… I hadn’t even considered it as a possibility, but it’s the absolute truth. If I told Lawson I wanted more from him, he’d give it to me, even if he wasn’t ready. Even if it wasn’t what he wanted inside his own heart.
I’d become his next Laura.
The thought is enough to have a cold sweat breaking out over my body.
I can’t rush him in this, can I? Either he’ll love me in his own time and his own way or…he won’t.
“Fuck,” I mutter, dropping my face into my hands.
Virginia gives my shoulder a squeeze. “Love’s a bitch, huh?”
“It’s the absolute best and worst thing.”
A vibration from my phone has me pulling the device from my pocket. Virginia shoots me a small, sympathetic smile before moving off down the bar to serve other customers. It’s a text from Lawson. Of course it is.
Law: Where are you?
Jesus, is the man at my house?
Me: Just grabbing a drink. I’ll be home soon.
Lawson sends me a picture. It’s him and Bell…on my goddamn couch.
Me: Lawson Darling, you get that cow off my furniture!
Tugging out my wallet, I throw a ten down before giving Virginia a goodbye wave. Another text comes through as I’m heading out the door. One that has my feet drawing to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk.
It’s a picture of a coil of rope lying casually over the top of my couch.
Jesus fucking Christ.
My pulse is a swift staccato as I head toward my truck. He wants me to tie him up? Truly?
I wish I didn’t want that as damn badly as I do. It’s not even the thought of Lawson bound that has my blood pooling hot. It’s the fact that he trusts me. That he wants to lie on my bed, boneless with nowhere to go, while I turn his world inside out.
And fuck, I want to give him that. I want to give him everything. I want to take care of his pleasure, soothe his pain. I want Lawson to rely on me, to know he’s not alone in this world. I want to tuck him in at night, my body surrounding his, the man’s heart beating beneath my palm.
I want till death do us part with Lawson Darling.
I’m his. And no matter what else, there’s simply no changing that.
The drive home is short, even as every scant mile seems twice as long as usual. The lights are on inside my house, Lawson’s truck waiting in the spot beside my own. The stars are out tonight, faint flickers, reminding me of Peter Pan and flying on until morning.
My front door is unlocked, Lawson seated on the couch but Bell absent.
“That didn’t take you long,” he says in greeting, the rope still draped over the couch next to him, anything but innocent.
“Well, I had to make sure you weren’t letting my cow ruin the damn house.”
“Really? It didn’t have anything to do with this?”
Lawson taps the rope, his face impassive enough but a slight gleam in his eye.
“You’ve gotten cheeky,” I note, letting my boots hit the front mat.
He shrugs, tracking my movements. “Maybe I’m curious to find out what you’ll do to me when I’m tied to your bed.”
It feels as if my lungs have forgotten how to function. “That so?”
“I think if I asked for anything at all, you’d give it to me.”
I swallow, the motion rough. “I think you’re right.”
“But I’m not gonna ask.”
“No?”
“No,” he says, turning my way as I round the couch. “Because I know I’ll like whatever you do to me, Oak. You’ll make me feel good.”
I breathe through my racing pulse, his faith in me causing my head to swim. “Do you needa take care of anything first?”
In answer, Lawson stands, swiping the rope and heading toward my bedroom.
Fuck.
He’s undressing when I enter the room, the bedside lamp already on.
Seeing the man revealed piece by piece is an exquisite kind of torture.
The small of his back as he lifts his shirt.
His shoulder blades, flexing with the upward movement of his arms. The back of his neck, an arm free and then two.
He drops his shirt to the floor before reaching for his pants.
The swipe of a button, a zipper being lowered.
A push, and then his ass, covered by his boxer briefs.
Hairy thighs, thick calves, pants hitting the floor.
My breath is harsh in my lungs when Lawson hooks his thumbs under the band of his underwear and tugs.
He’s entirely unabashed about his nudity.
Not cocky. Not presenting his best angles or even seemingly aware of my appraisal.
He simply doesn’t care. And perhaps part of that is his own viewpoint on physicality.
He doesn’t find people appealing in that way.
Or, maybe more appropriately said, a person’s appearance isn’t what turns Lawson on.
But I wish I could tell him how beautiful he is to me. Every scar, every imperfection. Every line that makes up the person I’ve grown alongside for the past four-plus decades.
Lawson said loving someone means loving all of them, past, present, and future. It means protecting who they are. Being a safe space for them, always.
Maybe I can’t say the words yet, but I can show Lawson I’ll protect every single piece of him. I’ll worship him. Love him. For as long as he’ll let me.
Lawson tosses the comforter down before settling in the middle of my bed, the rope lying beside him.
His cock is soft, and I never realized how appealing I’d find that, but there’s something about being the one to coax him to hardness that makes my protective instincts go into overdrive.
I don’t want anyone else to have that privilege.
I want Lawson to trust me with it. Only me.
Lawson watches as I get rid of my clothes, tossing my t-shirt beside him on the bed instead of elsewhere.
My own cock is hard as I approach. There’s simply no avoiding it where Lawson is concerned.
His gaze catches there, an appreciation in his eyes that makes me want to beat my damn chest. His focus returns to my face as I kneel at his side, picking up the shirt.
“The rope isn’t the smoothest,” I explain. “So I’m gonna wrap this over your wrists first so you don’t get hurt.”
He nods once, offering his hands.
My heart beats like a drum as I wrap the soft cotton around him, tying it into a gentle knot to keep it in place.
The rope is next. I secure Lawson’s wrists with a knot I can release quickly, making sure the rope is sitting comfortably over the shirt, not pressing into any one spot too hard.
Lawson nods his approval once I raise an eyebrow.
Looping the tail end of the rope around the headboard, I pull it taut and tie it off.
Lawson’s arms are stretched high above his head, only an inch or so of wiggle room in which he can move.
I grab a pillow, and he automatically lifts his head.
Wedging it beneath him while Lawson looks up at me with nothing but utter trust has my chest squeezing so tight I have to work hard not to do something stupid. Like kiss him and never, ever stop.
“All right?” I ask.
Lawson nods in a slow roll, even as there’s a slight pinch between his brows.
“What is it?” I prod.
“You don’t… I mean, you don’t want me turned on my stomach for this?”
I inhale a short breath, surprised by the question. “That’d be pretty uncomfortable with your arms raised above your head, don’t you think?”
“It’s just… I figured you wouldn’t want to be face to face. We haven’t been before.”
My mind rushes through our past encounters, and I realize…he’s right. The first couple times I fucked him, in my kitchen, in our tent while camping when it was too dark to even see his face…
Has that been intentional on his part? Because he, what, thought I wouldn’t want to see every damn flicker of pleasure that crossed his features? Because he figured it’d be too personal for what we are?
Which is friends. Who fuck.
I take Lawson’s chin in my hand, my hold gentle but unyielding. “I want your eyes on me, Law. I’m not pretending it’s anyone but you in my bed.”
His chest rises with his breath. “All right.”
I can’t help but huff my amusement as I let go, easing down Lawson’s body. “You start to cramp, you tell me. I don’t want this hurting you.”
His eyes never leave mine. “I’ll tell you, Oak.”
“Good,” I murmur, running my palms up Lawson’s thighs, his hair bristling my skin. “And feel free to use that mouth of yours, princess. I’m at your service.”
Lawson’s indrawn breath is sharper this time.
Liquid brown eyes hold mine, flaring wide when I dip my head to run my tongue along the length of his cock.
His thighs tense, the man jolting and his mouth popping open when I do it again, soft, wet brushes of my tongue sending blood through his body to stiffen his cock.
I take him into my mouth, wanting to feel him lengthen on my tongue.
Lawson’s responding moan sounds as if I caught him off-guard.
“F-fuck,” he mutters, a disjointed sound.
I grin, sucking gently until Lawson is filling my mouth, the man by no means small, erect or not. His head rolls back as I slide my lips to the tip of his cock and back down again.
“Jesus,” he says, his arms tugging against the rope before he lets them hang loose. “Why the fuck does that feel so much better when it’s your mouth?”
I pop off of him, sliding my fist up and down his cock, feeling a fierce sort of pride at his words. “Two fucks in under half a minute. You must really like it.”
“I do,” he says easily, his head coming back down to see me better. “So carry on.”
My laugh feels a little wild. A little joyous. “As you’d like, princess.”
Lawson groans when I replace my fist with my mouth, his hips bucking out of reflex. I don’t hide an ounce of my enthusiasm, wanting him to see how much I like this, wanting him to, maybe, realize this is so much more than friends fooling around.
I let my hands wander as I bob my head, blunt nails raking over his thighs, his stomach, tweaking a nipple and then two.
Instead of getting tenser the longer I tease him, Lawson melts into the bedding.
It’s a remarkable thing to witness, how something as simple as physical touch and affection can relax him, body and mind.
As much as I’d love to suck his cock until the man empties down my throat, I don’t want this over so soon.
Lawson grunts as I lever off his dick, dragging my tongue along the sensitive tendon of his inner thigh and up to his hip before biting lightly.
His eyes slip shut at the nip of pain, as if he finds it just as relaxing as a gentler touch.
“I can’t decide what I want to do with you,” I mutter, dragging my lips up to his belly button. His stomach muscles flex, the tiniest twitch, but the man remains limp on my bed.
His response is somewhat slurred. “Yeah?”
“Mm. Which is why I think I’ll do it all.”
“All?”
“Kiss every inch of you I can reach. Your cock, your chest, your elbows. Finger you for a while until you start dripping onto your stomach. Find each spot on your body that makes you moan. And then fuck you until you come for me. How’s that sound, princess?”
Lawson’s eyes find mine, the man looking dazed as I drag my lips over the dips of his stomach. “Sounds like I must be dreaming. If I am, stay here with me, Oak?”
My breath stutters out of me, Lawson’s skin warm and solid and real beneath my touch. I promise him what I know to be the absolute truth. “I’m not going anywhere.”