Chapter Twenty-Three
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
TATE LAY BENEATH Liam, sated and rocked to his core.
“I can feel it.” Christ, that had been the most earth-shattering experience of his life on so many levels.
“What?” Liam mumbled against his chest.
“I can feel your cum dripping out of my ass.”
Liam groaned. “I’m not sure I can move, but there’s no way in hell I’m missing that.” He pushed off Tate’s chest with an efforted groan.
“Oh fuck, look at you.” Tate reached out and ran his hands through the jizz, his jizz, smeared all over Liam’s torso. “That is so fucking sexy.”
If he hadn’t just come like a damn geyser, his cock would be begging for another round.
“Me?” Liam said as he scooted back and encouraged Tate to slide his feet up the bed toward his ass. “Oh, baby, you have no idea how hot this is.” He slid two fingers in Tate's ass along with the cum, preventing more from leaving his channel.
“Luxe,” he groaned. His ass was tender as hell, but he’d rather die than ask Liam to stop.
“You like feeling it, huh? Part of me left behind inside you.”
This time his spent dick did twitch. “Fucking love it, Luxe.”
“Mmm, me too. Can’t wait for my turn.” His eyes were hot and dark, confirming his words.
“Give me a few minutes, and we can get right on that.”
“Perfect.” Liam withdrew his hand and then stared at his coated fingers before swirling them through the cum on Tate’s chest. Liam moaned as he mixed their cum, then slid his filthy hand up Tate’s chest and neck until he gripped his jaw. Then he kissed him, deep and dirty.
Tate grabbed Liam’s ass and ground their flaccid cocks together as they made out. It was fucking sloppy as hell, and he loved every second of it. He’d bathe in their combined cum if he could.
They kissed until his lips ached and his lungs screamed for oxygen.
After finally releasing Tate’s mouth, Liam kissed his chin once, then said, “How are you? Does your face hurt? Your nose is swollen. Are you having any trouble breathing?” The concern in his expression made Tate’s heart flutter.
“Perfect, Luxe. I’m perfect.” And he meant it. Inside this little apartment, life was perfect. The outside world might be a clusterfuck, but that didn’t have to be dealt with tonight. Other things did, however. “Well, maybe not totally perfect. If we don’t clean off, we might end up permanently glued together.”
“Worth it,” Liam said with a chuckle. “Shower with me?”
It was Tate’s turn to laugh. “In your shower?”
“I know,” his man said with a grimace. “It’s barely big enough for one person, but I think we can manage if we stand really close.” He waggled his eyebrows.
The shower was beyond small, but they made it work. Standing chest to chest, they washed each other and played with each other’s dicks until both were hard again. When Tate wrapped his hand around both their cocks, Liam rewarded him with a lusty moan. Despite coming less than half an hour ago, they both exploded within minutes and needed a second soaping and rinse.
After drying off in the itty-bitty bathroom, they fell into Liam’s bed naked and exhausted. Without words, they sought each other out as though they’d been sleeping together for years. He wrapped his arms around Liam and pulled him close. Liam rested his head on Tate’s bicep and snuggled into his chest. Every warm breath wafted across his pecs, proof Liam was real and in his embrace.
It would go down as the best night of Tate’s life. The first night he’d been one hundred percent true to himself, and though there’d be hell to pay tomorrow, tonight, he’d fall asleep proud of himself. He shut his eyes and basked in the simple pleasure of holding the man he loved as they drifted off to sleep.
The man I love…
Tired as he was, his eyes popped open, and the need to tell Liam how he felt expanded through him until it could not be denied. Restlessness clawed at him. The words bubbled up in his throat and refused to stay in his mouth any longer. “Luxe,” he whispered, giving his man a gentle shake.
Liam started. “What? Huh? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Nothing is wrong. I just gotta tell you something.”
Awake now, Liam watched him through wide, concerned eyes. “Oh, my God, did I hurt you?”
“What?” He laughed. “No, not at all. But listen, I have something to say.”
“Okay…” Wariness bled through his agreement.
“I—”
He stared at the man he loved. The three words had never left his mouth. Not a single time that he could remember. Randy and he certainly didn’t say it to each other, and he couldn’t remember ever telling his mother he loved her either. Even worse, he couldn’t remember a time anyone had said it to him.
Was this a terrible idea?
Unease he hadn’t felt a moment ago washed over him.
What if Liam laughed at him?
What if he didn’t care?
What if he didn’t feel the same way?
“You what, Tate? You’re making me nervous.”
“I love you.” Peace settled over him as the confession left his mouth.
“You, what ?” Liam’s eyes filled.
“I love you. Only you. You are the only person I have ever loved, Luxe.”
“I… oh, Tate.” A tear escaped, and Tate swiped it off Liam’s cheek with his thumb. “I love you too.” He hooked a leg over Tate’s hip, pressing them even closer. “I have said the words before. I love my family, and there are friends I love, but this is an entirely new sensation for me as well. What I feel for you exists on a level I’d only heard about but never came close to experiencing.”
Even though he’d said the words to Liam seconds before, hearing them repeated back stole his breath. Sad as it was, he’d never told anyone he loved them. What was infinitely sadder was the realization no one had said it to him.
Liam stretched to reach his lips. “I love you,” he whispered again before kissing him with a soft, sweet press of his mouth. “I’ll say it so many times you’ll get sick of hearing it.” He seemed to know on instinct that Tate hadn’t heard the words throughout his life.
“I don’t think that’s possible,” he said, his throat thick with all the emotions coursing through him.
“What do we do now? Is it safe for you to go home?”
In the dim light, wrapped up in Liam, floating on a couple of spectacular orgasms, it felt as though nothing bad could touch him. But Tate wasn’t stupid enough to believe Randy would wake up tomorrow morning with a changed heart. And once Ducky heard? Well, shit, he’d be on the warpath.
“Probably not right away.”
Maybe not ever.
“Stay here,” Liam offered without hesitation.
Stay in the apartment with Liam? Fall asleep with him every night, wake to him each morning, and come home to each other after a long day of work? Share their meals and space? God, it sounded like heaven. A granted wish he’d never dared to cast into the universe.
“Luxe, are you sure?”
Liam nodded and kissed his scruffy chin, his cheek, and his lips. “Very sure. I know it’s tiny, but I think it’ll be nice. And if you need space, I can hang down in the studio.”
Snorting, Tate shook his head. “I’m not worried I’ll need space, Luxe. More worried I’ll annoy the fuck outta you.”
“Guess we’ll find out,” Liam said with a sassy grin that had Tate chuckling.
They kissed for a few minutes, sealing the deal. Tate pulled away when things started to get heated again. Three orgasms in an hour would be a record for him, but Liam needed to sleep. He had a full day of teaching dance classes ahead of him.
“Sleep, Luxe. You’ll need a lot of energy if I’m gonna be living with you for a while. I’m a horny motherfucker.”
“You better be,” Liam said, his voice heavy with exhaustion. He pressed a lingering kiss to Tate’s chest and then settled his head against it with a sigh. “I like to listen to your heartbeat when I’m falling asleep.”
Well, shit, that was fucking sweet as hell.
Within seconds, Liam’s warm body went slack, and his breathing evened out. Tate lay awake long into the night, unable to shut his mind down. Countless questions bombarded him, most of them without a simple answer.
Had Randy spread the news of Tate’s sexuality?
Would life in town become difficult for them now?
Were they safe?
What if they weren’t?
Could they move? Where would they go? What about Liam’s business? What about Tate’s job?
Would Liam stay with him if he had to leave?
Eventually, he exhausted himself going around and around without answering a single question. Though he finally slept, it was fitful and plagued by nightmares. Liam woke him once, whispering comforting words in his ear and promising nothing would harm him. He’d shimmied down Tate’s sweat-drenched body and swallowed his cock until he came in a near dream-like state. His final memory before passing out again was Liam straddling him and coating him with cum as he stroked himself to completion. After that, Tate didn’t stir until the sun came up.
The next morning was one of the brightest, clearest, and warmest of the year so far. As he climbed out of the Uber at the trailer park, Tate couldn’t help but feel the universe laughing at him. After the shitshow of the previous day, shouldn’t the sky over the trailer park be filled with ominous gray clouds instead of a perfect blue? Didn’t his trek to retrieve clothing and toiletries deserve a clap of thunder at the very least?
Or maybe he was a pessimist, and the beautiful day was nature's way of giving him a fresh start.
Either way, he needed some shit from the trailer and had waited until Randy was in the middle of a job before venturing home. His senses were on high alert as he climbed the three steps into the trailer. Every damn noise had him bracing for an attack. He’d refused to fight Randy, but that’s where it ended. If Daryl, Ducky, or any other lowlifes who lived there came for him, he’d send them back home, limping and with fewer teeth—though some of his neighbors already had a mouth full of smooth gums.
Thankfully, the trailer park was quiet at nine forty-five in the morning. He pulled the flimsy door open—of course, his mom hadn’t bothered to lock it—and strode in, only to come to a dead stop at the sight of his mother sipping coffee at the table.
He didn’t have much to say to her, considering she’d offered to blow and shove something up his boyfriend’s ass yesterday. He’d finally gotten that little tidbit out of Liam as they sipped their coffee in bed that morning. Tate never would have imagined himself a possessive lover, but the thought of anyone touching Liam had him seeing red. The fact that it was his mother?
Yeah, he walked past her without so much as a good morning. Packing his stuff took less than five minutes. Once satisfied he wouldn’t have to come back for a while, he slung his backpack over his shoulder, grabbed his duffle, and made his way back to the kitchen.His mother hadn’t moved.
At some point between being rescued off the street by Liam and now, she’d showered and done her hair. The dirty blonde locks hung past her shoulders and needed a trim, but her eyes were clear, her clothes covered all her assets, and she looked the healthiest he’d seen in a while. Amazing what skipping the whiskey in her morning coffee could do.
“I had a feeling, you know,” she said as he reached the door.
He turned with a sigh. “What?” Back in the day, before the years of drugs and booze, she’d been a beautiful woman. Years ago, he found a photo album from her early days with his father. She’d been young, happy, and free back before he left her in the lurch with two children and no job skills, education, or money. That was when she started her downward spiral and never stopped.
“I had a feeling you liked dick. Saw the way you looked at our mailman back when you were a teenager.”
“Good for you.” Well, shit. She sure as hell wasn’t known for being attentive, but her observation was spot on. Back when he was eighteen, he’d crushed hard on their very hot mail carrier. Hell, that guy had been the first dick he’d sucked in the very club where he’d met Liam, thanks to a fake ID and raging hormones.
“I don’t give a shit, you know,” she said, staring into her chipped coffee mug.
“What?”
She shrugged. “Lotta people in the world. All kinds. Some good, some shit. Most fall somewhere in the middle. Who you like to fuck don’t matter.”
“Yeah?” He turned until he fully faced her and set the duffle down.
His mom nodded. “Don’t bother me none. Love is love and all that.”
“Wow.” He snorted, folding his arms across his chest. “How fucking enlightened of you. You know what mighta been helpful, though? Maybe if you’d taught that to your sons when they were growing up. Maybe if you’d mentioned it, even once, your oldest son wouldn’t be a fucking bigot, and your youngest wouldn’t have suffered for fucking years, living in the closet because he was terrified to come out.”
“Maybe,” she said with a shrug, but her voice was devoid of any of the guilt or regret he’d have loved to hear. Something, just a morsel to show him she gave a shit about him. But instead, she plowed on. “Sorry, I offered to peg your boyfriend. Had I known—”
“What?” he asked with a harsh laugh. “Had you known, you’d have stopped at the offer to blow him?”
She shrugged again.
“Un-fucking-believable,” he muttered as he gathered his duffle. “I’m staying away for a while. Until Randy simmers the fuck down. If you ever decide you wanna do something maternal, maybe you could help with that.”
She didn’t respond, so he rolled his eyes and turned to the door. Just as he had it open and stepped through, she called out, “Tate?”
A large part of him wanted to ignore her, but he stilled. “What?”
“Be careful.”
It was the first time in his entire backlog of memory that she’d issued a warning like that. The first time, she’d said something to give him a flicker of hope that she maybe, deep down, cared a little bit. “Get yourself some help, Mom,” he said before pulling the door shut behind him and jogging to his car.
Now that he had his shit, he could get moving on the long list of stuff he had to take care of.
First, he planned to return a call to the housing developer who left him a message yesterday asking for an in-person meeting to discuss him doing some custom tile work. After one night of living away from the trailer park, things were already looking up.
Maybe I should have left years ago.