Wrath

Chapter 8

Eight

Ezra

H e turns into the parking lot of Waffle House as he says that, and by the time he’s parked, my stomach’s doing somersaults.

“Dude, that’s a memory.” He laughs, looking surprised. “Did you know I played the cello in high school?”

“No,” I whisper. Tears shimmer in my eyes, making halos around the Waffle House street lamps.

“We spent lots of nights in my room,” he says softly. “Where the cello was. I would hold you from the back, like big spoon. As soon as you would let me hold you, it’s the only thing I wanted, too. Well, not the only thing…”

I try to laugh, but tears just spill down my cheeks.

He leans in and kisses them off. “It’s gonna be okay, angel. If you get your memory back, that’s cool. And if you don’t, we’ll just do everything all new now.”

I swallow and nod, wipe my eyes. “It’s so weird,” I rasp.

“What is?” Josh asks softly.

“Not remembering, I guess.” I mess with the hemline of my shirt, feeling like a broken freak.

“It’s kind of weird for me too, but it’s okay. It will really be okay.” I look at Josh out of the corner of my eye, and he adds, “Do you believe that?”

“Do you want that?” I whisper. “Are you sure?”

“I’m so sure. I never stopped loving you, Ez. Ever. All I did since you left was want you.”

He looks like he means it. I lean in and wrap an arm around his shoulders again. He brushes his lips over my temple. “You wanna get the food to go? That way, we can really talk. I’ll fill you in on so much stuff, and you can fill me in, too.”

I nod. Miller leans his head against his seat’s headrest and gives me a crooked smile. “Thanks for finding me.” His voice is just a little hoarse. “I hope it’s worth it.”

“It will be worth it to me. Can you believe that?” I quirk a brow up.

He nods.

We walk to the restaurant’s door, shoulder to shoulder, and while we wait on the food, we sit beside each other in a booth, and Miller rubs his knee against mine. I look at him, at Miller in the flesh, sitting beside me in a Waffle House at 2 a.m., and I just can’t believe it.

It was all real.

“What are you thinking?” he murmurs, leaning his cheek in his hand.

“That it’s real.”

He smiles, all blue eyes and freckles and those soft lips. “It’s so real. You want to ask me some stuff? Or you want me to tell you some stuff? Things we did together?”

I nod, and he takes my hand under the table .

It turns out to be a crazy story. We drive to a trailhead in a wooded neighborhood and eat our waffles in the dark car as he tells me how I tried to kill myself via a train trestle bridge, and how I taunted him for being gay and grabbed his dick on the roof.

When we’re finished with the food, we start down the trail, our eyes catching in the dark, and then our hands. He’s rubbing my hand as he tells me the rest. About my nightmares and the way I fucked with him when he would come to wake me up. He tells me about his seizure, how I took care of him that weekend, but I also said I wouldn’t mess with him again. He got confused, and then things fell apart, and then I got heat stroke or something like it, and he took care of me.

“You wanted to be with me. You were just scared,” Mills tells me. “And now I know why.”

I can’t talk because my throat’s so tight, so I just squeeze his hand and nod.

Apparently I told him I’d been inpatient before, and he saw the pill bottles I had left over from my first stint at Sheppard Pratt.

“Didn’t you think that was weird?” I ask him as we walk back up a hill toward the trailhead where his car is.

“Weird? Nah. I was always worried you would take the pills. Like, overdosing. And I didn’t like the idea of you being alone somewhere, inpatient. So that bothered me too, just to think about it.”

I nod slowly. I believe that, based on what I wrote in that letter I never mailed. I had worried that if I told Josh I was back at Sheppard Pratt, he’d be upset. And it looks like he would’ve been.

I want to use his pills remark to segue into a question about the pills in Miller’s bathroom drawer, but I don’t think the time is quite right. Instead I listen as he tells me about the good times we had. He describes an old house by the lake, and how we fucked around inside and then I laid in his lap on the grass—and I can see it. I can see the mossy trees, the vast, green grass. I almost feel my face against the inside of his thigh as he sits cross-legged. When I check the details with him, he says I’m right.

“Another memory.” He grins, looking buoyant.

“Did we sit on a brick wall…by any chance?”

“Dammit! How did I forget that story?”

In the car, he tells me—with a huge smile—how we first kissed. How we did a bunch of crazy things to one another outside in the grass there in the cemetery.

“You even gave me…” He holds his hand up, wiggling his fingers.

My dick throbs so hard, I reach down and cup it. “I gave you a finger?” I rasp.

He’s backing out of the trailhead parking spot, his face cast in red from the car’s lights. “Yep.”

“And you were…okay with it?”

“I was more than okay. And a finger wasn’t all.” His eyes hold mine before moving back to the road.

“Fuck, Josh. Are you serious? Which one of us—”

“Took a dick?” He’s grinning.

“Shit! Was it you?”

He gives me a comical smirk.

“Was it me?” I ask.

God, I’m getting so hard. He lifts a brow and reaches across the car’s console so he can rub my bulge. As his hand cups it, he’s braking for a light. His eyes hold mine as I suck a breath in.

“This okay?” he whispers.

“Fuck yeah,” I groan.

His palm rubs over me, his fingers gripping around my cock as best they can through my pants. I lift my hips .

“Feel good, angel?”

I close my eyes, shocked by how good as he drags his fingertips over me. “Might come in your car,” I manage.

“Come in your pants. I can’t think of anything that’s hotter.”

He starts sort of loosely jerking me through my pants, his grip dragging the fabric of my boxer briefs over my hard cock. My hands are hovering above his, wanting to grab onto something. Somewhere under my lust, there’s a bite of nervousness to be hard with him, to mess around with a guy for what feels like the first time since the football bus, but what he does feels so good…

Mills pulls over in the parking lot of a flower nursery, and I laugh between hoarse moans.

“You laid the pipe, Ez,” he whispers. “And I took it. How does it make you feel to think of pushing this big dick into my little tight hole?” He reaches his hand into my boxer briefs, wrapping his fingers around my cockhead.

“Mills…” It’s whimpered.

“Put your seat back, angel. Shut your eyes and let me lean over this dick and suck it for you. It’s been a long time.”

“Forever,” I manage.

Then his mouth is closing hot and tight around the swollen head of my cock. He sucks me in, and my whole lower body jerks as his tongue curls around me, lapping gently at the little notch under my flanged head, and then taking me in deeper, so my thick tip is pressed into the velvet of his throat and his soft lips are rubbing down my shaft, so tight and slick and warm it makes me dizzy.

“God.” My hands find his hair. I’m gripping lightly, my glutes clenching, my legs flexing as I struggle not to fuck his throat. All I can say is, “Oh God”—just a chorus—while he licks and sucks me and his hand cups my balls, rolling them then tugging gently. I feel his free hand grip the base of my shaft, pumping as his mouth gets slicker and sucks harder on my cockhead. It’s so good my body starts to tremble. I feel zoned out, wracked by raw bliss in a way I’ve never felt. His tongue laps over the little slit in my tip, trying to push inside there; then it’s tracing my rim, and I’m pretty sure I’m leaking pre-cum.

“Fuck, you’re so good.” He’s off me for just that second, and then back on, swallowing me so deep that he chokes. I can feel saliva dripping toward my cock’s base as he deepthroats me. Then I’m pressing in—pressing a little; I’m not thrusting —and he’s groaning, and I worry it’s too much until his hand starts stroking my balls, tugging downward, squeezing. He’s moving on and off me, taking me so deep my toes curl and then pulling off and licking all around my slick cockhead.

He slides his hand up my shaft, gripping just under my head, and I can feel him breathing hard as he pumps.

“You’re spilling lots of yummy pre-cum for me,” he says in a voice that sounds hoarse. “I’m gonna take you shallow, but you fuck my mouth and I’ll suck in my cheeks. You used to love that.”

Miller wraps his lips around me, and I tell myself I won’t thrust into his mouth—half a second before my hips move, and I’m doing just that.

“God, Josh…” I’m gripping his hair, breathing so frenzied it sounds like gasps. Mills keeps himself far enough back so he’s not choking, but he’s still deepthroating me. His other hand is tickling my balls. I feel him moving, and I realize he’s thrusting his hips, he’s fucking the air while he blows me —and it’s all over on that thought.

I come hard, my body quaking as hot pleasure swells all through me and then spasms in an explosion of mind-bending bliss. And he’s swallowing it down. When he’s finished lapping at me and I’m glowing from the aftershocks, Miller lifts his head, grinning like the cat that ate the canary.

“How’d you like that?” he drawls. His eyes are heavy-lidded and his mouth is so smug.

“God.” I look down at myself. “Fucking amazing. That was—” My throat tightens, and I have to swallow to speak. “Thank you,” I manage. I glance down at Josh’s lap. “What about you? You got blue balls?”

He laughs. “Uhh… well .” He makes a sexy little “o” with his mouth, and I reach out and rub my hand over his junk. He winces, and a damp spot appears on his pants. It’s so fucking hot, my spent dick gives a hard throb. I can’t help a laugh. “God, that’s fuck hot, Miller. Someone need to change their pants?”

He covers his face with his hand. When he pulls his fingers off his eyes, he’s giving me this little shy smile. “Damn, dude. I missed that dick.”

“I want to see yours,” I say.

“I’m sure that can be arranged.”

I feel surreal again as he pulls my underwear and pants up and rights my twisted seatbelt. Then he kisses my cheek.

“All good, angel?”

I swallow and nod. “All good.” I could cry with how good I feel, but I breathe slowly and try hard not to.

Josh looks down at his lap and shakes his head. “No fixing this mess till we’re home.” Still, he’s grinning as he pulls out of the parking spot and reaches for my hand. “I feel kind of bad for doing that here. Your first time… I got—” He shakes his head, looking rueful.

“Fucking horny?”

“Fucking horny.” He lifts his brows and pins me with a wide-eyed look. “For you.”