Chapter 20 #2
I smile and nod, reaching out to pull him closer. I am okay. Denver was safe, and Fayid and I spent the last two hours discussing burial rituals and the art depicted on tomb walls—not just in Egypt, but all over the ancient world.
And Fayid, being a doctor in his subject, knows more than I do, and once he finished his research, he was more than happy to share his knowledge.
He didn’t make me feel stupid either. He answered all of my questions and listened to some of my theories, and for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel like I was unwelcome or didn’t belong.
I think if Denver is his friend, maybe Fayid can be my friend too. Eventually. Once I know he’s someone I can actually trust.
Denver clears his throat and then touches my shoulder softly, bringing my gaze back to him. I missed his hands on me, and I want nothing more than to wrap myself around him and hold him for the rest of the day.
‘Can we go now?’ he asks.
I nod and then set my phone down for Fayid, pointing to it and signing, ‘Phone number. I want.’
Fayid peeks over at Denver, who is frowning, but he lifts the phone off the desk and quickly types in his number. I’m happy to have someone to send my random thoughts to, and I have a feeling he’ll appreciate it.
‘I will text you,’ I tell him.
‘I look forward to it.’ Fayid smiles and shoots me a wave before peering over at Denver.
I feel immediate confusion because Denver doesn’t look happy about this.
He’s pursing his pretty lips, and his brows are furrowed in what looks like anger.
I don’t understand, but I’m tired, and I’m not sure I want to play the game people seem to like so much where they pretend like nothing’s wrong until you dig, and dig, and dig.
When I say nothing, Denver huffs loudly, rubbing at his temples as we wave goodbye to Fayid and move toward the elevator. I want to put my arm around his shoulders, but he looks as if he doesn’t want to be touched.
He keeps an arm’s length away from me as we make it down to the street, and his pace is faster than normal, so we don’t walk together as we head for the car.
The longer it goes on, the more anxious I’m becoming because I don’t understand what the problem is, and Denver doesn’t seem interested in telling me.
I fight off a frustrated scream as I slip behind the wheel of the car, but instead of starting it, I turn toward him. ‘What’s wrong? You tired?’
Denver folds his arms across his chest and stares forward, watching as the sky opens up and rain starts to hit the windshield. ‘Yes. That.’
For the first time in a while, I can’t tell if he’s lying, but I want to believe that if there were something truly upsetting him, he would tell me. He is still recovering from his concussion though, so I give him the benefit of the doubt.
‘Okay.’ I turn the windshield wipers on and pull out of the parking spot. The silence follows us down the road, but although I’m not always the best at reading a room, I can feel the tension growing.
Clearly, I’ve done something wrong, and I feel a growl building in my chest made of frustration and hurt. If I did something bad, why can’t he just tell me what it is?
It’s raining too hard for me to take my hands off the wheel, so I’m not able to push the issue as we head down the lonely, quiet road that leads to all the farms. Denver’s still got his arms crossed, eyes fixed ahead into the stormy evening, but when I turn down our dirt road toward our house, he flicks the overhead light on.
My foot lets off the accelerator as my brain puts together that he wants to talk, so I ease the car to the side, put on the hazards, then turn to face him.
He doesn’t say anything for a long moment, and just when I think I’m going to have to push him to talk, he lifts his hands. ‘Why did you want Fayid’s number?’
Those were not the words I was expecting. My brow dips into a heavy frown as I try to figure out why this is upsetting him. ‘He’s interesting. He likes what I like.’
Denver’s jaw clicks. ‘And he’s hot.’
My eyes narrow at that. ‘What do you mean? I don’t understand.’
I know what hot means. I know that Denver’s implying that Fayid is a good-looking man, and he is. But it’s obvious in this moment that Denver doesn’t understand what he is to me. Or how impossible it is for me to want anyone else but him.
He is my whole fucking world right now, and if he doesn’t turn and walk away from me once he realizes that being with me could be complicated, he will be my whole world for the rest of our lives.
‘You want Fayid?’ Denver clarifies. ‘You want him and not me?’ His signs are dramatic and loud and possessive. He looks like he wants to crawl into my lap and kiss me and put his hands around my throat to remind me who I belong to.
It makes my cock twitch in my pants, and I feel it start to harden. ‘No. Never.’
‘You gave him your number,’ he signs.
The shock of that hits me, and while I don’t personally get it, I understand how exchanging numbers can be an intimate thing.
How it could make him think that my attention had strayed elsewhere.
The thought is absolutely fucking ridiculous, but how could he possibly know how I feel when I haven’t used words or signs to tell him?
I reach for his hand and press a kiss to the center of his palm before scraping my teeth over his fingertips. His breath leaves his chest in a trembling rush. ‘I’m sorry.’
He huffs and draws his hand back. ‘No more flirting with other men.’
My brows shoot up. ‘I wasn’t flirting. I was talking.’
‘No. No talking. No talking to anyone else but me.’ He stops, his hands trembling. ‘I know it’s irrational, but—’
I stop him and shake my head. ‘It’s okay.’
My chest is expanding in excitement. His jealousy is like a fucking aphrodisiac. He’s possessive, territorial, and it’s exactly the way I feel. If the situation had been reversed and Denver had given something personal to Fayid and not me, someone would be walking away with fresh scars.
I reach over and unbuckle his seat belt, watching as it falls away from his body. He makes a face at me as my hands reach for him, grabbing onto his chin and turning him toward me. Our eyes meet for a second, and I see the flare of desire flash through his.
‘Tell me it’s just me.’
‘Only you.’ My finger hits his chest as I convey that. ‘You are mine.’
He huffs, and I smell the mint on his breath. ‘Fine. Good.’
I hold on to him tighter, my fingers splayed across his cheek as I tilt his head and kiss his pouty mouth. He opens easily for me, our tongues tangling in a frantic kiss. It tastes of jealousy and greed, and I consume it, swallowing all of his emotions down.
My free hand drags down his chest and hits the bulge in his pants, the heel of my palm dragging down his cock.
He groans into me, his hands sliding through my hair and tugging as he arches up against me.
With a soft moan, I bite down on his bottom lip, sucking on it roughly before finally letting go.
Denver blinks at me, his cheeks red, his chest heaving. ‘Archie,’ he signs.
I point to his pants and sign, ‘Out.’
He does as I say with trembling hands, pulling his beautiful, hard length from the confines of his slacks. I don’t even hesitate the moment he’s exposed, leaning over the console and pulling him into my mouth. His fingers curl into my hair as I swallow him down, tasting every inch of him.
He doesn’t last long. I feel him thicken, feel his fingers spasm against my head, and his hips start to fuck upward as I tighten my lips around him and suck harder.
When he stiffens, I know he’s seconds away from letting go, so I hum and swallow, and he spills into my mouth a moment later with a soft cry.
I’m still feeling a little wild and possessive, so I suckle him as long as he lets me, only pulling off him when he tugs on my hair and makes a soft noise of protest. Kissing my way up his chest, I press my lips to the corner of his mouth, then pull back to find him staring at me.
His gaze slips to my mouth, and he reaches out and cups my cheek. ‘Thank you.’
I dip my head as he wipes the mess from my chin. ‘I didn’t mean what I said,’ he signs when he takes his hand back. ‘You can talk to whoever you want. Not only me, but…I want to know that I’m yours.’
I take his hand and nibble on his fingertips as I nod. ‘Mine.’
He sighs and slips two fingers past my lips, all the way along my tongue until the point I’m almost gagging, and then he pulls them out and swipes them on his shirt. His eyes are a little dazed, pupils still blown, and I’m hard and ready to get home so I can fuck him properly.
‘Happy?’ I ask as I settle back into the seat.
He smiles softly at me. ‘Yes.’
Satisfied that the issue is solved, I put the car in drive and take us home.
A couple of hours after we got home and fucked long and thoroughly, Denver heads into the study to work, which leaves me on my own.
I don’t mind it. I have always liked space, but it feels a little strange that I’m not touching him. I know it’s not rejection, but his need to focus on something that isn’t me leaves me feeling slightly unsettled.
Even climbing into my coffin and attempting to nap doesn’t help, and I don’t like that. I’ve been an expert at self-soothing most of my life, so the fact that he was able to flip that upside down bothers me.
Not enough to send him away, but enough that I know I need to focus my brain elsewhere.
Wandering out back, I head for the shed, where I have several old caskets I bought at an auction. Three of them are filled with dirt, and beside that is my small greenhouse, about waist-high, that opens from the top. I have several seedlings germinating that will be ready for planting soon.
I love gardening almost as much as I love graves. Everything comes from the earth, and everything returns to it. It is a simplicity of the universe that makes sense to me.