Chapter 50
50
ADAM
A fter seeing Brian off, Charles leads us upstairs. He pauses on the landing. “I can make up a spare bed for you. Or…?”
Jonathan’s hand slips into mine and heat races up my spine.
“That won’t be necessary, thank you.”
As soon as Jonathan’s bedroom door closes behind us, he has his arms around my neck and his lips meet mine. I grab at him, hungrily, drinking in the taste of him. It feels like it’s been months since I held him. I feared I might never get to hold him again.
We nearly trip over his suitcase in the dark, trying to get to the bed without letting go of each other. Then he’s pressed against the closet, and he’s pulling at my shirt and I have to take a breath.
“Are you sure you want this?” Even this is whispered against his ear because I don’t want to pull away far enough that my cheek stops touching his soft skin.
He breathes raggedly against me, fingers flexing in the fabric of my shirt. “It’s all I want.”
“Jonathan… you’re vulnerable right now. Last time we spoke, you… I just don’t want you to regret this.”
He turns his head enough that our lips brush again. I kiss him. I can’t stop kissing him. “Please, Adam… please,” he whispers between kisses. “Please, I don’t want to think. I don’t want to hurt. Please. Someone’s going to cut my dad’s brain open tomorrow and I might never get to speak to him again. I just want to forget for a few hours… I just want…”
Comfort. “It’s okay. I’m here.”
We eventually find our way to the bed, where I undress him slowly, covering him with kisses. This might be the last time I get to touch him like this and I want to commit every inch to memory. I never want to forget the silky feel of his pale skin, the light brush of hair across his legs and chest, the precise way his nipples pucker when I lick them, the sounds he makes as he arches his back and begs for more.
“Adam… please…”
“What do you need, baby?”
I’ve never called him a pet name before. What a time to start.
“I need. Please… there’s lotion in the en suite.”
I nuzzle against his temple. “You want me to fuck you?”
“Please.”
I hum. “We’ll get there.”
I kiss my way down from his neck, where his skin is hot to the touch of my lips, all the way down his stomach to the curl of blond hair between his legs. I spread him wide and take him into my mouth. He moans and thrashes, pushing at my head and then tangling his fingers in my hair as I lick and suck and feel him grow against my tongue. I’ve sucked other cocks before. And yet his is somehow sweeter, and this is somehow more intimate than with anybody else.
I can’t seem to stop touching him, even as I work at him with my mouth. I smooth my hands up and down his thighs and around to his ass. I brush a thumb over his hole and he jerks at the unexpected sensation. I do it again. And again. He whimpers as I press in, gently, slowly. I don’t want to go too far without lube.
He tenses against me and I can feel he’s close. I can feel everything. It’s like his body is an instrument and I’m composing a sonata. I pull away.
Jonathan makes a noise of frustration and reaches for me. But he asked to forget for a few hours and that’s the least I can give him, a few hours of distraction.
I do away with my shirt and return to kissing him. He wraps his legs around me, trying to pull me down on top of him. His fingertips press into my shoulder blades as he clings to me. I can hardly bear it. It feels so good. I want to take him like this, give in, fuck him rough and raw just to feel release. Just to give him the release he’s craving.
I manage to shimmy out of my jeans and kick them off. We grind together, feverish now. His hardness against mine, no barriers between us. My heart is galloping in my chest as we thrust together. I pin him to the mattress, devouring his mouth and his sounds of pleasure. He’s heading for the peak and I’m right there with him.
I pull away, force distance between us.
He’s lying sprawled on the bed, panting. All I can see in the dark room is his outline, the glint of his golden hair, his bright eyes and the shine of his swollen lips. I can’t resist kissing him. Every time I kiss him something molten slides under my skin, a need I’ve never felt with anyone else. Anyone.
The realization startles me enough that I manage to pull away again. “Lotion,” I say.
In the en suite, I turn on the light to find the lotion and squint against the sudden glare. I’m flushed in the mirror, my hair a giant mane. I shouldn’t be doing this. Jonathan isn’t capable of making decisions right now. I’m swept up in my own lust. My hand trembles as I find the lotion on the side of the basin.
Jonathan appears behind me and he wraps his arms around my middle and rests a warm cheek against my back. “Are you okay?”
“Am I okay?”
“You seem different tonight. Maybe it’s just because, well, everything is different?”
I turn to pull him into my arms. “Yeah. Also, I’m trying to edge you but I’m not very good at it.”
“ Edge me?” It’s not quite a laugh, but there’s a lilt of humor in his tone.
“Mmm. Bring you to the edge and then?—”
“I know what edging is. Why?”
“To draw things out. So you don’t have to think.”
He looks up at me with those big green eyes and reaches up to cup my cheek. He strokes the back of his hand down the side of my face, through my beard, torturously slowly. “I still can’t believe you’re here. That you came to New York.”
I can’t meet his gaze. “It’s no biggie. I live here. Well, I did.”
I catch his hand in mine and kiss his fingers.
“When… when I found out about the adoption… and that you never told me.” He swallows. “I thought you couldn’t possibly care for me. You couldn’t keep me in the dark about that and care for me. But now you’re here. And you’ve done all this.”
I pull him into my arms again, hold him against me. I want to say something, something profound, something in my defense. Something with the word love in it. But now’s not the time. Instead I kiss him.
He takes the lotion and leads me back to bed.
It doesn’t take hours, but we go slowly and sweetly. I nuzzle against his neck as I thrust into him, feeling the tight stretch of muscles around me, the warm heat of his body accepting me. I miss it even as I’m experiencing it.
After, he lies curled against me with his head on my shoulder. This is how we fit together. In just a few short weeks it’s become normal. I stroke his back absently, tracing circles against his shoulder with my thumb.
“What did you want to talk about?” He asks sleepily. “In the garden before Geoff’s call?”
“Oh… I… well, I know you have no reason to believe me, but I was going to tell you the truth. About the kids.”
He makes a little noise that might be disbelief.
“And… and I was going to ask if maybe you wanted to stay there. With us.”
Jonathan turns his face into my chest. He doesn’t speak for a long moment and I think he might be crying again.
“Obviously things are different now,” I say.
“It’s just… my father.” His voice sounds thick with tears and I wish I hadn’t said anything.
“Of course.” I hold him tightly and kiss the top of his head. “I know. It’s all right.”
I sooth him as he cries and eventually falls still. For the first time, I can let Jonathan sleep in my arms. There are no kids to worry about, no reason for him to leave in the night. For the first and last time, I’ll get to wake up next to him.
I don’t sleep at all.