Chapter 10 #2
Emmett flinched, his stained cheeks no longer red from exertion but . . . something else. Shame? “I want you to, but . . .”
Lincoln shifted so he was facing Emmett full-on, concerned now. “You can tell me anything, Em, I swear. I won’t laugh at you or judge you.”
“I know. It’s just . . . you’ve probably noticed I wear jeans all the time, despite the fact that it’s mid-ninety degrees out most days.”
“I had.” And he hadn’t given it much thought until now.
Emmett nibbled at his bottom lip before saying, “During the fire I got some pretty bad burns. On my legs. One was second-degree. Half of my left calf.”
Lincoln glanced at the jeans-clad legs in question. “You have scars.”
“Some really ugly ones. I don’t like people to see them, not even Aunt Beatrice. I even sleep in pajama pants. I’d probably shower with them on if I could.”
He drew Emmett’s hand up so he could kiss the back of it. “Babe, I’m not afraid of your scars. I don’t care that your legs aren’t perfect. All scars mean is you lived.”
His words only seemed to make Emmett more miserable. “I know I lived. They didn’t.”
Lincoln was fucking this up all over the place, and he wasn’t sure how to proceed.
Emmett’s guilt over his family’s deaths was rooted too deeply to be unseated by one intense conversation in the living room.
That sort of guilt had to be exorcised a bit at a time, like a cancer that had spread, taking care that they removed it all.
And it wouldn’t happen overnight. Or maybe in a few years.
But he wanted, more than anything, to help Emmett get to that place one day.
A place of true healing.
“Emmett, let me ask you something. What was the one thing your parents wanted for you and your sister? More than anything else?”
“To live a safe and happy life,” Emmett replied without hesitation.
“To live a safe and happy life. Which means they would’ve wanted you to survive that fire. Dying with them, while protecting you from this guilt now, wouldn’t be what they wanted. You’re alive. You’re safe. You seem somewhat happy, when I’m not dragging you down the painful edges of memory lane.”
Emmett squeezed his hand. “I am happy when I’m with you, even when I get melancholy about my family. I miss them so much.”
“I know. And the loss is still pretty fresh. But you’re here, scars and all, and I am so grateful for you. You have no idea how much you mean to me. How much you’ve helped me want to live again, too.”
“I’m glad.” Emmett lifted his free hand and brushed his thumb across Lincoln’s forehead, the simple touch blazing across his skin. “Your scars are in here.”
“Yes, they are. You don’t see mine any more than I see yours.”
“You haven’t actually seen mine yet.”
“May I? Please?”
Emmett let out a harsh breath, then stood.
He worked first his belt, then his fly with jerky motions that Lincoln longed to ease.
Lincoln genuinely did not care about the scars, but Emmett did, and he was about to share something with Lincoln that he didn’t like sharing with his own family.
Emmett clutched at his jeans a moment, then let the weight of the belt drag the denim down his thighs.
White boxer briefs outlined his erection, but Lincoln didn’t linger on that area.
He waited while Emmett shoved the jeans down the rest of the way, then kicked them off.
His entire left calf was an odd shade of purplish fuchsia, the skin raised in areas, but mostly smooth.
Part of the knee was the same, and a few tendrils of color snaked up onto his thigh.
His right leg was less noticeable—smaller spots of color and raised areas, with more undamaged skin that grew a thin layer of black hair.
Similar black hair crept up his inner thighs and disappeared beneath his underwear.
Emmett’s hands clenched and unclenched by his sides, and his attention was somewhere over Lincoln’s head.
Lincoln stood, keenly aware that he was half naked, and cupped Emmett’s cheeks in his palms. Emmett’s dark eyes blinked at him, a sheen of tears threatening to spill. “Thank you.”
“For what?” Emmett asked.
“Trusting me enough to show me your scars. They aren’t ugly, Em, and anyone who thinks they are isn’t worth your time or energy.”
“Why is it that everything you say sounds so rational?”
“It’s my superpower.”
Emmett chuckled, and so many things in his face and body seemed to ease. “Have I mentioned lately how glad I am we met?”
“Not lately. But same here.” Lincoln boldly cupped Emmett’s erection, soaking in the sharp hiss that earned him. “I also believe I requested something.”
“Yes you did.” Emmett tugged his shirt off, and Lincoln did the same, leaving them one article of clothing from being both totally naked together.
Something wiggled unhappily in Lincoln’s gut, but he shut it down fast. Emmett wouldn’t hurt him.
Lincoln dropped to his knees, hooked his thumbs in the waist of Emmett’s underwear, then tugged it down to his ankles.
As he suspected, a thick nest of black pubes surrounded Emmett’s uncut cock.
Big enough to be a mouthful, with a very pretty head peeking out from its hiding place.
He pressed his nose into the crease of Emmett’s thigh and inhaled the spicy, musky scent of him.
Fingers threaded in his hair. Holding.
He jerked back, heart skipping too fast, and glanced up. Emmett’s eyes were wide, eyebrows arched up. He didn’t like Emmett looking so surprised. “Sorry.”
“No, it’s okay.” Emmett touched his cheek, so gentle it almost hurt. “Can I hold your shoulders?”
“Yes.” Lincoln hated that he’d pulled back. He’d never had a problem with guys holding his head during a damned blow job before.
Emmett’s hands rested lightly on both shoulders.
Lincoln kissed the inside of one wrist, grateful for the silent understanding—and for not asking deeper questions.
He licked a stripe up Emmett’s length, savoring the burst of flavor and the sharp gasp from above.
He repeated it several times, loving the way the foreskin slid with his tongue, taking turns to hide and reveal the glans.
The teasing was so much fun he kept going until Emmett’s grip on his shoulders tightened, and he gasped out a nonsense demand.
So Lincoln had mercy and took Emmett’s entire length in his mouth.
That shout was worth the effort of keeping him deep and swallowing several times.
So good. His senses were keenly aware of Emmett—his sounds, his scent, every tremble and shudder that tore through his body.
They fueled Lincoln’s attack with hands and mouth, taking a moment to suck on Emmett’s balls, tease the slit, nibble the edges of his foreskin.
The latter seemed to really drive Emmett nuts, so he spent a lot of time doing that. Licks and gentle bites while his hands worked his balls and teased his taint.
“Getting close.” Emmett somehow turned two words in a single whoosh of sound.
Lincoln pulled back and stood so fast his head spun.
He tugged Emmett into a harsh kiss, letting him taste himself on Lincoln’s lips.
Emmett dragged him to the bed, pulling Lincoln down on top of him, his spread legs cradling Lincoln.
Lincoln spat on his palm, then lifted long enough to arrange their cocks together. Rubbed the spit on them.
Emmett wrapped his legs around Lincoln’s hips, pulling him close.
Lincoln curled his arms around Emmett’s shoulders and started fucking.
Their cocks slid together, eased by spit and sweat and precome, and nothing had ever felt more right.
Emmett kissed and bit at his cheek, throat, and ear, losing himself to the sensation of their bodies moving together.
Lincoln buried his face in Emmett’s neck and snapped his hips, desperate.
Desperate to come. Desperate to make Emmett come. Desperate to make this perfect for them both.
“Lincoln. Oh my. Oh please.”
He rutted faster, skin rubbing, balls slapping. Captured Emmett’s mouth in a harsh kiss. Pleasure zinged from his balls outward, electrifying his entire body. Never had sex been like this. Never. This was . . . indescribable.
“Emmett, fuck.”
Emmett came first on a desperate roar, his release slicking the way to Lincoln’s.
White fire coursed through him, and he shouted his way through it.
Every limb trembled with satisfaction, and he collapsed on top of Emmett, his entire world spinning away in a haze of pleasure and skin and the scent of their combined release.
“Oh my,” Emmett whispered. “Wow.”
Lincoln chuckled, then kissed the side of Emmett’s neck. “Yeah, wow. Big wow.” He lifted enough to see the results of their orgasms. “Damn.”
“It’s all you, Linc. I’ve never . . . not like that. It’s never been so intense.”
“For me either.” He kissed the tip of Emmett’s nose, enjoying the freedom to drop kisses on a whim. “No regrets?”
“Of course not.” Emmett’s slight outrage was kind of adorable. “I wanted this so much. Do you regret it?”
“Fuck no.”
“Good.” Emmett curled a hand around the back of Lincoln’s neck. “We’re doing this again, right?”
“Definitely.” Now that he’d had Emmett, he was hooked. A drug he couldn’t quit.
The ceiling creaked overhead, and Emmett’s eyebrows shot high. “Oh crap, Adrian.”
The mental image of Emmett’s jerk of a cousin listening to them having sex made Lincoln silently cheer. And made him kind of proud, because yeah, Emmett had lost his mind at the end and gotten really loud.
“Who cares about him?” Lincoln asked. “He’s probably jealous, because you’re getting laid and he isn’t.”
Emmett snorted laughter, the sound vibrating right through Lincoln’s chest. “You could be right. We should probably take a shower if we’re going to play any more songs together.”
“I don’t know. Seeing you wearing my come is pretty damned inspiring.”
“Even so. What if Aunt Beatrice comes home?”
Lincoln pretended to be put out by the thought. “If you insist, I guess we can clean up and get dressed.”
“Hey.” Emmett kissed him thoroughly before releasing him. “Don’t worry, we’ll be naked again together.”
“I hope so.” Even though Lincoln wasn’t going to broach the topic of penetration until his test results came back, he desperately wanted to do this with Emmett again. Rub off together. Suck Emmett until he came. Eat his ass until he begged to be fucked. All the things.
His belly quivered with anticipation and dread. The anticipation he clung to, while he mentally shoved the dread down. Away. No place in bed with them.
“Come on, babe.” Lincoln kissed his nose again. “Let’s take a shower.”
The shower included a lot of teasing, groping, and fondling, and it ended with Emmett’s back to the shower wall and Lincoln on his knees blowing him to a second orgasm. Lincoln’s dick stayed soft the whole time, and that was okay. They had all the time in the world.
Lincoln was starving by the time they both tumbled out of Emmett’s room, clean and dressed, and the unexpected scent of pizza gave him hope. He and Emmett followed the scent into the kitchen, where Beatrice was sitting at the four-seat table eating a slice.
“Hey, boys,” she said. “Help yourselves.”
“You’re an angel.” Lincoln plucked a slice covered in pepperoni and sausage from the open box.
“Figured you’d both need to refuel.”
Emmett made a choking sound. He’d frozen near the fridge, his cheeks once again flaming red. The poor guy blushed way too easily.
“Well, we did have fun playing together,” Lincoln said, mostly to see how much redder Emmett could get.
Beatrice lifted a single, amused eyebrow.
“Music, I mean.” Lincoln had pity on Emmett. “I brought my QChord over. Emmett sang for me, and I played. It was a lot of fun.”
“That’s excellent!” She held up her hand, and Lincoln high-fived her. “Speaking of music, a little birdie told me something about an XYZ reunion?”
Emmett startled and turned, a pitcher of something in his hand. “A what?”
Somehow Lincoln had neglected to tell Emmett about the Unbound offer. Then again, today was the first time they’d spent a significant amount of time together since he got the news. Emmett put the pitcher down on the counter and came closer.
Lincoln laid out the call from Emily and the plan for Lincoln, Dominic, and Benji to play together at Unbound’s opening night. “We’re going to find a song that works well for me on the QChord. The real problem, though, is the stage lights.”
“You still have issues with bright and flashing lights,” she said.
“Yeah. I haven’t played onstage in almost a year, never mind with my concussion. I don’t know if my sunglasses will be enough.”
Beatrice’s face scrunched like it did when she was thinking hard. “I may have a solution for that.”
“Oh?”
“You can practice at the club off-hours.”
Lincoln blinked. “I can what?”
“It’s perfect.” She grinned, clearly pleased with herself.
“I’ll give Emmett a key. We don’t open until seven, so you two can go in anytime during the day and practice.
Use the stage and the lights. Get comfortable up there again.
Figure out what works for you, so you don’t get to Unbound and hurt yourself. ”
The solution was so perfect, it was almost too good to be true. Days alone with Emmett, making music. Being together. Lots of time for practice and fooling around.
“What do you say?” he asked Emmett.
“I think it’s a terrible idea.” Except Emmett wasn’t who’d replied.
Adrian had.