Chapter 14 #2
I reached for his button, suddenly eager to pass this test—no, to fucking ace it. I reached into his pants and pulled out his dick, slender and long, curved to the left just a smidge. I tightened my grip and stroked him, getting used to the feel of him.
He made a broken noise, and I slid my fist up and down twice more as I wet my lips, ready to dive in and taste him too.
“Fuck!” Hollywood cried, shuddering hard.
His cock pulsed, cum flowing over my hand.
“Shit, I barely touched you.”
His cheeks reddened. “Ah, god, sorry. I’ve just wanted this for so long. I couldn’t help it.”
I chuckled. “Well, hell, don’t apologize. It’s flattering.”
“It’s embarrassing,” he corrected, sitting up to reach for a few tissues in the box on the coffee table.
“I’ve wanted it too,” I said. “For a long time.”
We cleaned up, and he tucked himself back into his jeans, an awkward silence falling. I didn’t want this to be weird, but I wasn’t quite sure how to react now that we’d acted on these impulses I’d pushed down for so long.
I didn’t regret anything—except maybe not getting a chance to do more.
Hollywood was gorgeous. He always had been.
And nothing about his body turned me off, not even his dick.
It was pretty—almost delicate when compared to the angry purple club that stiffened between my legs when I got hard.
I looked like a brute, but Holly…he was something more refined.
“So, uh—” Hollywood started.
“Do you want—” I said at the same time.
We paused and laughed.
“You go first,” Holly said. “Was that okay?”
“Better than okay, Hendrix. Damn.” I cupped his face and leaned in. “Can’t wait to do it again.”
He parted his lips as if to answer, but Ruby cried out, cutting him short.
“Teck!”
Hollywood scrambled off me and grabbed my sweats from the floor. “Shit, get dressed. I’ll go check on her before she comes out here.”
He dropped my sweats in my lap and took off down the hall. I shoved my legs into them, trying to recalibrate from the abrupt mood shift.
I picked up my shirt and slipped it on as I headed toward Hollywood and Ruby’s room. I found him stripping off her sodden pullup.
“She hasn’t wet the bed since the first night,” he said, face drawn tight.
“It’s my fault.” I grabbed a diaper from the stack on his dresser. “Leaving and coming back. It must be confusing.”
He shot a glance over his shoulder, lips quirking. “A little.”
I could tell he didn’t mean only for Ruby.
We traded diapers—Holly helped Ruby pull on the fresh one while I disposed of the soaked one.
“I wet,” Ruby said sadly.
“It’s okay,” Hollywood said softly. “We’ll get you all dry and comfy.”
He fetched her new pajama bottoms, because the pullup had leaked, and helped her get settled back into her bed. Luckily, the sheets were still dry.
“Better?” he asked.
“Yes.” She blinked sleepily. “Teck?”
I lowered my hand to smooth back her hair. “I’m still here, Too girl. I’m not going anywhere.” I turned to look at Hollywood. “You hear me, darlin? I’m here to stay.”
He lowered his eyes, face soft in the glow of the nightlight, and my heart contracted. I’d almost lost him. Almost let fear keep me from the best man I’d ever met.
Never again, I vowed.
I reached for his hand and laced our fingers. I brought his hand up and kissed his palm. “Come on. Let Ruby sleep.”
He followed me out of the bedroom, closing the door softly behind him and leaning back against it.
I cupped his face and leaned in. “Where were we?”
He dropped his gaze. “I should probably shower.”
“Hey.” I put my finger under his chin, tilting his face up to look me in the eye. “Is something wrong?”
Hollywood had asked if I had regrets, but I hadn’t asked him. I’d taken it for granted that he wanted it to happen.
“No, nothing’s wrong, but—” He stopped short, nibbling his bottom lip.
“Tell me, darlin’. Whatever it is, just tell me.”
He drew a deep breath. “You said you wanted to talk before you went to Hayworth. What about? I can’t take the suspense anymore.”
Surprise hit me. “Do you really have to wonder after everything we did tonight? This is what I wanted to talk about. You and me.”
“So, what is this, then?” Hollywood asked tentatively. “You and me?”
I opened my mouth, but the words wouldn’t quite come.
“It’s okay,” he said. “We don’t have to rush into anything. Just promise that if anything is too much, we can talk about it. If all you want is friendship, I’ll take that over you disappearing from my life again.”
“Hey.” I cupped his cheek and met his eyes. “I’m not running. Not ever again.”
“No matter what goes wrong?”
“I promise.” I kissed him gently. Earlier, I was fueled by pent-up lust, but now I could enjoy the feel of his lips, the sweetness of his taste. He was comfort, pure and simple. “Come on. Let’s go back to the living room. We can talk.”
“What about the shower?”
“In a minute.”
I pushed him down on the sofa, fetched one of his froufrou IPA beers for him and a Budweiser for me. Then I took a seat beside him and looked him in the eye.
“I’m here to stay. I’m going to take that job, okay? I’ll make the program work this time. I don’t want to let you down again.”
“You’ll never let me down if you stay,” Hollywood said. “Even if you decide you don’t want all this”—he waved a finger between us—“we can still be friends.”
“Oh, fuck that,” I growled, pressing a hard kiss on him. “I want it all.”
He smiled shyly. “So do I.”
“Then we’ll make it work. All of it.”
“You don’t have to take that job, though. I trust you.”
I wasn’t sure he did. Not yet. And I didn’t blame him. But he was trying damn hard, and I was lucky he was giving me this second chance.
“It’s a good job. I was just…afraid to face it. It’s at a greenhouse. I don’t know if you remember, but I ran one with my dad before I went to prison.”
Hollywood nodded. “You didn’t like it?”
“No, I loved it. That was half the problem. I did stupid things to keep it going. Illegal things.”
“Like selling weed,” he supplied, having heard the story before.
I nodded. “I was afraid this job would only remind me of my mistakes. But I’ve been afraid to face too many things in my life.” I held his gaze. “That stops now.”
Hollywood’s eyes softened. He cupped my jaw, but instead of kissing me, he pulled my forehead onto his shoulder in a loose embrace.
“I’m so proud of you.”
It was the first time I’d heard those words since my mother died. I breathed him in, this man who held me like I was fragile, breakable. No one had treated me with so much care in so long.
Part of me wanted to pull away and assert that I didn’t need to be coddled. The part of me that had been raised to never show weakness, to never admit to any vulnerability.
Prison had only reinforced the need to show my strength, to prove I shouldn’t be fucked with.
But in Hollywood’s arms, I didn’t have to prove anything. I could just be Tex, a man who’d make mistakes and wanted to do better.
A guy who was flawed and imperfect and, yes, sometimes a little weak.
So I stayed where I was, buried my face in his neck, and let him hold me.