Sunrises and New Beginnings

Chapter 1

The deafening sound of Harlan’s music assaults me the moment I step into our townhouse. When I realize that it's his “Not Today, Satan” playlist, concern washes over me. Music is always a good indicator of the type of day he’s having, and today is clearly not a good one.

The heavy bass reverberates through the ceiling above as I drop my bag by the door.

In my haste to get to Harlan, I kick off my sneakers in the general direction of the shoe rack rather than placing them in their proper spot.

He will inevitably give me shit about it later; a smirk tempts my lips at the thought of his dramatic eye rolls.

Harlan is organized to a fault, and I’m just not.

We’ll deal with my shoes later; right now, I’m eager to be in the same room as him.

He’s been so stressed about the new campaign he’s been working on for Lust & Lace.

He’s put in endless hours at the studio, modeling in anticipation of the release.

It means that between my travel schedule with the Brooklyn Sea Scorpions and his photo shoots, we haven’t seen much of each other in the last few weeks.

The ache of missing him sits heavy in my chest. I’m desperate for his project to be over, for the season to be over, so that we can just be lost in each other for a few months.

Taking the stairs to the second floor, I turn toward our shared bedroom.

Harlan is sprawled out dramatically across our bed, outfitted only in a pair of dark blue lace panties that have my dick taking interest. Harlan hasn’t seen me yet, so I take a moment to admire his beautiful body.

My boyfriend is truly a work of art. He’s muscular, but not overly so.

He’s tall and lean, with the most incredible ass I’ve ever had the pleasure of burying myself in.

His wavy, sandy brown hair is a chaotic, beautiful mess on top of his head, and his face is buried in the duvet.

Approaching the dresser, I power off the speaker, dousing the room in silence. “Sweetness, what’s wrong?” Sitting on the end of the bed, I rub his back while he remains face down and unmoving. He’s awake—I can tell—my body is so attuned to him after over two years of sleeping with him in my arms.

Harlan stays quiet for longer than I expect, but I give him the time he needs.

His anxiety can be a lot to manage. He’ll talk when he’s ready.

After a few beats of silence, he finally opens up.

“There’s an issue with my visa.” Dread swirls in my stomach, every worst-case scenario immediately fighting for space in my head.

Harlan has been in New York for the last six years.

He was born in Beaconsfield, England, and came here on a visa to attend Brooklyn School of Fashion.

After he graduated, he began working with Lust & Lace, both as a model and designer.

The extension process has been pretty easy up until now, and I honestly forgot that he was up for renewal.

“If they can’t get it sorted, I’ll have to go back to the UK. ”

“Jesus, baby. What can we do?” Spreading out next to him, I pull his body flush to mine, my arms wrapped tightly around his well-defined stomach.

Some of the tension leaves his body at our close proximity.

Harlan releases a small sigh when I kiss the sensitive skin behind his ear.

I know his body as well as my own—better than mine—so offering him this quiet comfort is second nature at this point.

It has never occurred to me that he wouldn’t be able to keep living and working here.

Eventually, he was going to apply for citizenship, but it’s such a daunting process.

“I’m not sure if there’s anything we can do.

Shawn arranged a call with the immigration lawyer.

We’re going to appeal it, but with how things are with visas right now, I don’t know if it’s going to make a difference.

” He sounds despondent, and his tone mirrors my feelings. “It’s a fucking nightmare.”

“Fuck, Lan,” I say. My mind is spinning with what this means for him, and for us. Lust & Lace will do whatever they can to keep him here. He’s the backbone of their North American design team. It was always his dream to live and work in Brooklyn, so the thought of him losing that is devastating.

“I hate this. I don’t want to leave you.

” He turns in my arms, burying his face in my neck.

I inhale the strawberry scent of his hair, his curls tickling my nose as I squeeze him.

The thrum of contentment tries to break through the unease suffocating the room.

“I should know more in a few days. If the extension is denied, I’ll be here for no more than a month before my current visa expires, so it’s not a lot of time.

” A month puts us right at the start of the playoffs.

Not that baseball is the biggest priority here, but it could mean that I’m not here when he’s supposed to leave.

That realization sits like a lead weight in my gut.

“A month? That’s it?” The questions come out harsh and much louder than I intended. The rush of my heartbeat in my ears is louder than the music I just turned off, as I let the reality of what he’s saying sink in. Harlan flinches, instantly making me feel like an asshole.

“It’s out of my control, Darío. I’m not sure what you propose I do.

” He pulls away from me to sit up. Frustration and hurt shine in his eyes at my abrasive tone.

Harlan worries his lower lip with his teeth, so I reach out to rub my thumb over the abused skin.

“I didn’t ask for this, you know.” His face is clear of any makeup as I take in his red-rimmed eyes.

The deep blue of them steals my breath, but right now, they’re swimming with sadness.

Something about this feels so much heavier than I’m prepared to examine right now.

He sighs heavily, crossing his arms across his bare chest.

“I know, sweetness. I know you didn’t. I just hate all of this.

” Reaching for his hand, I lace my fingers in his, pulling him closer to me.

He slides his body over mine, leaning down to kiss me.

Forcing myself to focus on him, on the way his lips slot perfectly with mine, I block out the rest. Before Harlan, I wasn’t much of a kisser, but there’s something more with him.

I could spend hours just kissing him like this.

“Distract me, Darío.” His kisses turn needier, tinged with desperation, and I lose myself in the headiness of his desire.

Moving my hands from his face, I slide them down his smooth back until I’m cupping his full, firm ass through the lace wrapped around him like a second skin.

He moans at the contact, grinding his hard cock against mine.

His breathless moans and kiss-swollen lips have me desperate to feel more of his skin on mine.

His hands move under my shirt, smoothing over my abs before he pulls away from the kiss long enough to tug it off.

Suddenly, my athletic shorts feel too restrictive, the fabric abrasive against my heated skin.

Eager to stay connected to him, I arch my back to slide my shorts down while devouring his mouth.

The taste of him on my tongue drowns out the noise of everything else.

“You taste so good, baby. You taste like mine.” Kissing down his silk-soft jaw, his body releases the rest of its tension as I prepare to take him apart.

When I reach his collarbone, I nip at his sensitive skin, making him moan.

He presses his ass against my cock, the soft lace torturing me as I leak precum.

“I need you inside of me, babe,” he pants.

Reaching under the pillow for the lube that got shoved there last night, he pulls it out with a huff.

With fluid grace, he slides the lace off, straddling me.

Moving my hands to his hips, I run my fingers over the small halo tattoo on his left hip bone while he uncaps the lube to pour some on his fingers.

Sadness is replaced by desire in his eyes as I watch him open himself up for me.

While I find a sadistic pleasure in slowly opening him with my hands and tongue, reducing him to a begging mess, there is something exquisite in him preparing himself for me.

His quiet, breathy moans make it nearly impossible for me not to rut into him.

“You’re so beautiful, Harlan.” My hands stroke up his muscled, hairless thighs before gripping him tightly by the hips.

He’s stunning, and I find myself staring in awe at how beautiful he is on top of me.

He opens the lube again, pouring it directly on my cock.

It twitches at the contact from the slick liquid before his firm grip wraps around me.

“Fuck, baby.” I thrust into his fist before rolling him under me.

“Are you sure you’re ready? I don’t want to hurt you. ”

“I want it to hurt.” He pulls his knees up near his ears, putting his perfect pink hole on display.

Fingering himself again, he lets out another needy moan while I grip the base of my aching cock.

With three fingers thrusting in and out, it’s the most depraved, filthy sight as he pleads with me. “Please, babe.”

“You beg so pretty for me.” I push against the tight ring of muscle, and he moves to grab his own erection.

The grip on the head of my cock is incredible as I ease my way in.

Harlan tries desperately to get me to move faster as he attempts to thrust up, but I won’t give him what he wants. Not yet. I catch him wince, and I slow.