Sweet

20. Will

Chapter twenty

Will

C an’t exactly go clubbing in a small town. And we’re so small, we don’t even have a bar—never mind a gay bar. We do have a bowling alley the next town over and a steakhouse, both of which the local barflies frequent to get their fix. I consider the steakhouse since I haven’t had dinner, but going to a restaurant alone is too damn depressing. At the very least, the bowling alley has other entertainment that’s less pathetic to be seen doing solo.

Jess winds up texting me before I step out the door, saying if I get stood up, he’ll come over. Too sweet. Not in a good way. A tooth-achingly sweet gesture that’s about as pathetic as drinking at a bowling alley after demolishing three separate prospects in rapid succession. That’s got to be some kind of record.

Not only that, but Cas has done exactly this to me before. And every time Jess swoops in to save the day. I’m not falling for it again. Even if Jess isn’t Cas… fuck, I suppose I’ll never know now.

As soon as I open the heavy glass door, the sound of cracking pins and some kind of techno pop blasts over the speakers. All the lights are out except a few flashing colored ones. Sunday night laser bowling. How could I forget? Ugh.

I head to the bar on the other side of the lanes and grab an empty seat on a vinyl stool with padding as flat as a pancake. The noise carries over from the bowling area, but it’s not as if the bartender needs to hear much. Only a couple of beers are on draft and she can easily figure out what I want to order from me simply pointing at the menu.

Stupid fucking laser bowling. All the teens come out, which means the bar is next to empty, and the adults who drift over this way don’t stay. Instead, they head back to their dates or friends or whatever. I’m crinkling the greasy wax paper into a ball and accepting that I should’ve gone to the steakhouse instead of spending money to sit alone and drink shitty beer while eating an overpriced fry basket when—a hand on my back. I turn. It’s Bailey. He’s flashing his smile while keeping a hand on me, but I can’t hear a damn thing he’s saying while his lips move. I gesture to my ear and he slides his hand down to my arm, then tugs me toward the closest exit. Uh, okay.

I’ve already paid my bill, so I throw a tip on the counter and spring to my feet. The second we’re outside, my hot breath hits the cold air and makes a perfect cloud while I exhale in annoyance at myself.

“I thought you had a date?” Yep, he goes there.

“So did I.”

“I’m sorry.” Bailey frowns and takes a step closer.

“It’s okay.” I take another breath, only much shakier this time. This is not okay. I’m not okay with this. It’s only when I have to explain it to Bailey that the truth smacks me upside the head. “I may have overreacted and… well, he changed his mind.”

“He’ll come around, I’m sure.”

“No.” My bitter laugh sounds more like an unhinged cackle. “He, uh, basically, he cut all ties with me and I have no other way of getting in contact with him. We were supposed to meet in person today, but instead, I scared him off. For good this time.”

“This time?”

“Yeah. He’s… well, you might get this. He’s really private, and he immediately backed off once he figured out who I was, because he worried I would do the same, eventually.”

“But you didn’t?”

“Hardly fucking matters now, does it?” I throw my hands up. “I’ll never get to know.”

“You’re really torn up about this,” Bailey says, another frown marring his features.

“Yeah.” I hold his gaze. “I really liked you. For even longer than I liked this other guy. But… I don’t know. Feels like I’ve been holding out for this guy for weeks and he finally decided what he wanted, and we were going to give it a go in the real world. You were like… something I never expected to happen. I spent the better part of the year thinking you didn’t even know my name. So when I finally had the opportunity to get closer, I jumped at the chance. But I never meant for things to play out this way, Bailey. And I feel like shit after you put yourself out there for me.”

“It’s okay.” He smiles, only barely. “I take it you don’t have any plans?”

“No.”

“Well, just so happens my date canceled on me, too.” My face flushes and he snickers. “Let’s get out of here.”

“And go where?”

“Movie?”

I pull out my phone to look at the clock, then quickly check the showtimes online. “The next one isn’t for another forty-five minutes or so. We’ll have to hang around and wait a bit.”

“Come back to my place.”

I almost think I don’t hear him right.

“I’ve got all the good streaming apps,” he says, getting quieter with each word.

“Sure. Yes. Of course,” I babble. “And listen, I meant what I said about wanting to be friends. I know I haven’t been very… friendly , but if one good thing can come out of this mess, I want that to be us becoming friends. Okay?”

“Sounds good to me.”

After we both walk to our vehicles, I follow Bailey out to his place. I’ve never actually seen the house aside from pictures. That’s how far back from the road his home is set on the property. After a slightly bumpy and twisty ride down a driveway long enough to be a private road, we reach our destination. He parks in the pebble driveway near the front porch and there’s more than enough space to leave my vehicle beside his.

“Nice place,” I say upon exiting my car. He’s got a two-story farmhouse that’s definitely older than both of us combined, but in great shape still.

Bailey thanks me and I do not mention the whole “you had me drop you at a different address last time” bit. Bringing me here is clearly a huge leap of faith on his part, and I’m not going to make him even more nervous. We climb creaking wooden steps to a screen door and Bailey walks right in to an open floor plan. He’s got a modern farmhouse meets log cabin interior. Except the furnishing appears more logical and less homey, as if intentionally following a stylish trend.

“Didn’t realize the honey business was so lucrative,” I mumble.

“It’s not. Pays the bills, though.” Bailey takes his coat off and hangs it by the door.

“That’s such a rich person thing to say.”

“Not rich. I’m—”

“I swear, if you say comfortable, I’m slugging you.” I laugh and he chuckles with me.

“Okay. I’ll be upfront. I got lucky. A young couple bit off more than they could chew, and halfway through renovations they moved back to the city. Bank foreclosed and I got this place for a steal. But I also worked my ass off from the time I was thirteen and hoarded about every penny of it for this to happen.”

I hum and take off my shoes by the door and follow him over to a couch set in front of a wide flatscreen. “So, what do you want to watch?” Bailey asks while he grabs the remote.

“There’s a new thriller streaming that I wanted to see.” Actually, horror, but I’m not sure he will agree if I say so. We spent the entirety of the last one making out, so I never got to enjoy him curling into me out of fear. I’m despicable, I know.

“Okay,” Bailey readily agrees.

“And I’ve got another one of those ideas,” I say with a smile, eyeing all the furniture he has to divide the space.

“Oh?” Bailey chuckles. “Am I allowed to know this time, or do I have to endure another surprise?”

“Was the last one so bad?”

“No.” He smiles. “I trust you.”

“Good, but I’ll tell you anyway, because I’ll need help.” I take his hand in mine. “Any chance you’d want to build a blanket fort?”

Bailey suppresses his surprise and still fails terribly to convince me when he says, “What… uh… what makes you think I’d want to do something like that?”

“Forts are fun.” I shrug. “Not to mention cozy. And sometimes romantic.”

“And make popcorn?”

“Sure! Why not?” I thread our fingers together while gazing into his eyes, and he lights up brighter than a galaxy of stars. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing Bailey happy. Like really and truly happy and not just a charismatic and charming customer-service type fa?ade he puts on all the time. The kind of happiness where he doesn’t stop to think about it or how he should react.

Over the next hour, we get building. Bailey drags out a mattress pad for the floor and uses some extra thick blankets for even more padding. He gives me a whole stack of sheets and clips to construct the sides and roofing. Soon we’ve got an excellent fort made, with enough space for both of us to comfortably sit or even lie down if we prefer. Bailey goes to the kitchen to make popcorn on the stove with real butter while I lean back against some pillows we brought inside our cozy hideaway and flick through the new releases. The only light comes from the television until Bailey’s silhouette cuts across the screen. He sets a large bowl down first, then crawls in the fort to snuggle beside me. Oh boy. I hand over the remote and he presses play without any reservations before tossing it down between us.

Maybe thirty minutes into the movie, when it’s undeniable we’re watching a horror flick, I get the reaction from him that I’d hoped for. Bailey’s arm coils around my waist while he presses himself into me, not hiding his face but burying himself closer for security. I dip a hand beneath the hem of his shirt, comforting him while gently tracing his spine with my fingers. A small sigh escapes and he stays relaxed, which is a pleasant surprise, considering he’s proved himself to be hit or miss with physical contact. Or maybe I should say, he can’t always decide if he wants to agree with his body or keep fighting the pleasure he’s feeling. And tonight, he’s agreeable.

Bailey eases into my touch and sinks closer and closer until his lips brush my neck. Maybe he really is hiding now. I’m about to ask him if he’s okay when I realize how close my hand is to the gap at the back of his jeans. I’m expecting a whimper when I plunge my hand inside. His body snaps closer to me as usual, except he’s rock hard now and the sound he emits is more of a groan of sexual frustration than anything else. His hips rock against me again, and he sighs right in my ear from the friction, making my cock swell, too.

Without an exchange of words, Bailey pivots and swings a leg over me. His hips roll against me with sudden urgency while he brings his lips to mine. All of that feels impossibly good: having him so close, his tongue probing my mouth, and my cock grinding at the rigid bulge at the front of his jeans. The desire igniting in him plays out like the stuff of my fantasies.

Bailey gets harder with each thrust of his pelvis against me until he works himself up so much he pants into the sliver of space between our lips. His fingers creep up to my nape, curling inward when he finds nothing to grab then settling on either side of my neck. A thumb strokes up my throat from my clavicle, and all of a sudden, I’ve never wanted anything as badly as I’ve wanted to fuck Bailey. He whimpers in the way I love so much when I grab a tight fistful of his hair, sending shivers of excitement through us both. He’s always had that effect on me. And now that I have this much of him, I only want more. Maybe Bailey has wanted more, too.

Bailey tears at my clothes and I’m more than happy to oblige, as is he when I’m fumbling with his belt. I’m about to ask if we should head to the bedroom when I decide I can’t even wait that long. Floor will do.

As soon as I get his jeans off, I nudge him back onto the padding and blankets beneath us, then bury my face between his thighs. His back instantly arches in response, but he keeps his legs open for me this time. I want to lick every bit of him and then some, until he’s writhing for more. His thighs jump when I wrap a hand around each one, almost the way someone does when ticklish. Instead of more squirming, he settles momentarily before releasing a sharp breath when I drag my tongue across his hole.

Just when I’m internally lamenting a lack of lube potentially limiting our options, Bailey claws toward his pants then gives up and frantically points. I take the hint and reach his jeans for him and—would you look at that. Travel size lube stashed in a front pocket. Someone wants to get fucked , and he came prepared.

Once I’m shoving fingers in him, he’s eerily quiet. Not protesting, but only barely panting the entire time. I’ve never taken so much time fingering someone, and it’s only because I want him collapsing into pleasure instead of fighting it. My finger grazes the most sensitive areas inside him, but he doesn’t give me more than a needy whine. Okay, not going to worry about that. Can’t expect everyone to be a screamer, and the times we’ve been together he’s never been loud.

“Can I fuck you, Bailey?” I am really hoping the answer is yes, considering the point we’re at.

“Yes,” he whispers. “Please.”

Normally, I’d just fucking go . Fuck him to the point of tears and then some. But it’s Bailey. So I’m doing everything in my power to suppress the urge to push him past his limits, because that’s almost always what I want. Instead, I try to be… gentler. Not gentle per se, but my equivalent: going slower and moving more carefully. His soft panting picks up while I tease him with the tip of my cock, but there are no complaints when I ease past the resistance of his body. Slowly, I bury my shaft all the way into him inch by inch while he’s gasping. Everything seems good until a few thrusts in when I lower myself down against him. Bailey bucks his hips and squirms against me like he wants to get away. And I’m starting to worry he’s not into it. But fuck me and my fucked-up brain, because him struggling so much under me only makes it better for me.

“Bailey, breathe—” I whisper.

But I don’t get a chance to spit the rest of my comforting words out. Bailey’s about the same size as me—so not huge but not lacking muscle either—and yet, damn me for underestimating him still. He clamps down on me and throws us sideways. Before I can even register what he’s doing, Bailey wrestles me onto my back and sits with his legs on either side of me. I’ve never really had the tables turned on me, and the unexpected outcome is a raging fear boner.

Despite the arousal, I react close to the same way as he did, thrashing to get out from under him while he sits on me like an expert bull rider refusing to be thrown. Until Bailey tires of my fighting, and swings his hand back to smack me across the face so hard my ears ring and… that really shouldn’t excite me even more, but does it ever send white-hot desire through my veins. I’m too stunned to do anything more than stare up at him. Bailey simply smirks down at me, only one half of his face illuminated by the soft glow of the television.

His hand moves back to stroke my shaft with one tortuously slow pull before lining up and shifting backward onto my cock again. My mouth is still hanging open once he’s riding me like our lives depend on it. Then both his hands slide up my chest, reuniting near my neck before his thumbs simultaneously graze my throat again. Bailey’s panting builds harder and faster than ever before while he hovers above me until he moves one hand to drop his weight. He leans his face down to mine, kissing me frantically and then…

A single soft moan slips past his lips and right into my ear like he’s planting it there. I’ve never heard him moan before. And that’s all I need for the realization I should’ve had long ago to come crashing into me.

It’s him.

“Oh, fuck. Cas,” I gasp.

He moans harder at the sound of his name, and that’s all the confirmation I need.

With renewed fervor, I kiss his shaking lips until he pulls away and sits upright again. Clearly, we need to work on a compromise. I don’t want him so far away from me and he obviously doesn’t want to be under me. We can and will make this work, so help me.

With my hands on his hips, I shift him back farther and sit up, then throw him off my lap altogether. He comes right back, but doesn’t fight when I clamp onto his arm and twist to get him to turn his back to my chest. Cas hooks an arm around the back of my neck and squats back on top of me, and I wrap my free hand under his thigh to keep him there. We’re pressed so close his entire body drags against mine when he moves, and I can kiss him the entire time. My other hand no longer needs to pin him in place, so I brush across his torso, since I’m content to let him treat me like a warm dildo. He’s so into this and for once, that’s all I need.

So much so, when I hear the telltale moans of him getting close to coming, my cock recognizes a sound it knows all too well and twitches while still in him. Our mouths break apart while we’re breathing hard but I still manage to whisper, “I’m so close. Take me with you.”

And if that isn’t the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen: him glistening slightly from beads of sweat and in sheer bliss while fucking himself with my cock—and moaning my name the entire time. When his hole clenches down on my cock, he’s got me groaning his name on repeat, too.

Right when my orgasm hits, his head throws all the way back and spurts of cum erupt from his cock to cover him. Does it ever feel amazing to have my pulsing cock in him, and to see him come so hard from a good, rough fuck and nothing more. Best of all, the man leaning back against me is most certainly Cas.

“You sneaky fucker,” I say, setting his leg down and moving to ruffle my hand through his perfect hair.

“Are you surprised?” His ragged breathing interrupts his question and I can’t believe I didn’t hear the similarity sooner.

“I don’t know,” I say. “All I know is it feels too good to be true.”

He snorts.

“Baby, you don’t even know . I was obsessed with a guy who didn’t even notice me, until I found the perfect guy and moved on, only to pull my crush finally and… now they’re literally the same person.”

“I noticed you.” His thick voice drips across me while he speaks right in my ear. “And I wanted you.”

“Then why didn’t you…” I can’t finish that thought when the question seems foolish when spoken. Between what he’s told me and what I’ve witnessed firsthand, I can see how dating may be an issue for him.

“Even after you admitted you liked me , I wasn’t so sure you liked Bailey . I thought so, but I wasn’t completely sure and I don’t like unknowns,” he says.

“That’s another thing,” I exclaim. “How the hell does one get Cas out of Bailey? It’s almost as bad as getting Dick out of Richard.”

“Well, that… uh…” He blushes a bit. “Bailey is my middle name and what I use professionally. Casper is my legal first name.”

“Well, Bailey Bee does have a certain ring to it.” I sigh. “And I wouldn’t blame you for not wanting to be totally honest right away.”

“Everything I told you has been true.” He shifts to rest his head on my shoulder while still holding on to me. “But there’s still a lot you don’t know.”

“That’s okay,” I whisper, kissing his head. “Plenty of time to figure more out.”

“Is there?” He snorts again.

Something about his attitude irks me, so I ease him back onto the floor and swiftly pin him under me so we’re nose to nose. “I mean it. There’s no getting rid of me now. Not when I finally have what I want. You’re mine , baby.”

“Sounds like someone’s fallen in love,” he says with a smirk.

“No. You fucking came along and tripped me.”

I claim his lips in a kiss again, savoring the sound of him moaning into my mouth. Seems like now that I know who he is, he’s not bothering to hold back. Neither am I. With him right where I want him, I kiss down his neck and leave a trail of marks, all while slowly grinding my hips into his so our cocks brush. He reacts better to the friction than he ever has to being touched, but I still pull that sweet, tortured sound out of him.

“Fuck,” he whimpers.

Yep. Perfect. Almost as if he were made for me.