Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
Jack rolled the condom on and slicked himself up, despite just how badly he wanted to—
No.
This wasn’t about him.
This was about Benny.
Doing it right.
Making it right.
Jack wasn’t sure if Benny had been with anyone after Derrick, but he knew the moment he’d heard Callum’s recounting of the experience that Jack had wanted better for him.
That Jack wanted to be the better was a thought that came later.
Now, he knew it was the truth.
He wanted Benny to enjoy himself.
But not because he was acting.
Not because he was faking it.
Because it was real.
They were real.
Jack settled between Benny's legs and braced one hand beside his head. With his other hand, he guided himself to Benny. He paused before starting.
He could just make out Benny’s face in the dim light.
His eyes were wide, his lips swollen and slightly parted. His cheek was soft and always seemed to be asking for a kiss.
But that was for soft moments.
What he wanted to do next wasn’t soft.
Still, he had to be sure that Benny was okay.
That Jack wasn’t pushing Benny into something that would have them avoiding each other the next day.
“Are you good?” he asked, barely keeping it together even to his own ears.
Benny was beautiful as he nodded against the sheets.
“Yeah. I’m—Yeah, I’m good.”
He was nervous.
But there was something else there in his voice.
Excitement?
Anticipation?
It only fueled the mounting tension in Jack’s body.
He grabbed Benny’s ass and leaned closer.
“If you need me to stop or slow down, you tell me,” he whispered. “Got it?”
Benny nodded.
That’s all he needed.
Jack pushed in slowly, a feat considering how badly his body wanted to plow inside. However, he took it cautiously, using the time to watch Benny's face for any sign of discomfort.
The tight heat was almost overwhelming. It was all Jack could do to keep his focus on Benny.
On the way his breath hitched.
On the tension in his shoulders.
On the way his fingers knotted up the cotton sheet beneath them.
“Breathe, sweet cheeks,” Jack commanded, his hand moving to Benny's hip. “Breathe.”
Benny exhaled. Jack felt him from the inside.
He pushed in a little further.
Christ, he was tight.
Jack paused again, this time to reign in his excitement so he didn’t blow his load like some teenager. He tried focusing again on Benny’s enjoyment.
Once again, even to his own ears, he could hear himself struggling.
“There you go,” he murmured as Benny's body accepted him deeper. “You're doing so good. You’re—You’re doing so good, baby.”
Benny made a sound that went straight to Jack's dick.
He had to grit his teeth against the urge to surge forward.
Not yet.
Not until Benny was ready.
When he finally bottomed out, fully seated inside Benny, Jack let out a breath.
He’d had sex before. With men and women.
But this?
This was different.
It wasn't just the physical act—though fuck, that was incredible—it was the fact that it was Benny beneath him.
Benny, who had asked him why he dreamed his dream.
Benny, who had assured him that his love was worthwhile.
Benny, who had gotten stuck in a goddamn window trying to help secure both.
Benny, who had told him he was afraid of the dark, only to trust and accept him in it minutes later.
Jack tested a slow pull back. Then he pushed in again.
Benny gasped.
“Okay?” Jack asked, immediately stilling.
Benny nodded, his hair tickling Jack’s chin.
“Yes. God, yes. You—You don’t have to stop. Trust me.”
And Jack realized he did.
Trust Benny.
Want Benny.
Need Benny.
So, he listened to the man.
Jack pulled back and pushed back in, deeper. He found a steady rhythm that made him grunt, moving with Benny’s body as he reacted. Knowing when to push harder, understanding when to hold back.
Until every sound Benny made, every time his hands scrambled for purchase on the sheets, went straight to Jack's ego.
And other places.
Jack adjusted his angle, lowering himself so he could feel Benny panting against his cheek.
“That's it,” Jack said against Benny's ear. His back arched, bringing them even closer.
There it was.
“Let me hear you, Benny,” he ground out. “Come on, baby.”
And Jesus, did Benny deliver.
The sounds he made were loud and unfiltered and so far from the quiet, anxious guy who had shown up at the bar a few weeks ago. So loud and effective that Jack felt something fierce and possessive surge in his chest.
This.
This was what Benny should have had the first time.
Someone who gave a shit about whether he was enjoying himself.
Jack wanted to make sure it lasted as long as possible.
He pulled out, earning a gasp from Benny, and turned the man over. Pulling him to his knees, he gave Benny a new angle to take him in at.
Then Jack thrust back inside.
This time, Jack wrapped his hand around Benny’s once-again hard dick.
“Jack—”
“Don’t worry—Don’t worry, I got you,” he assured him. Jack started stroking in time with his thrusts, feeling his own control start to slip.
Benny’s eyes closed, his dick pulsing in Jack’s hand.
Fucking beautiful.
“Jack,” Benny managed again, voice wrecked. “Jack, I’m—”
“Come on, baby,” Jack said, his hand tightening its grip, his rhythm picking up in tandem. His words came out as harsh and raw as he’d ever heard them before. “Let me—Let me hear my name.”
Benny came with Jack's name torn from his throat, loud enough that Jack would've worried about the neighbors if he'd had any brain cells left for worrying. The sight of it, the feel of Benny clenching around him, the sound of his name said like that?
Jack had no focus left. No control in his arsenal.
He followed Benny over, burying his face against Benny's neck as he came into him harder than even he had expected.
For a few seconds, neither of them spoke.
They just breathed.
In and out.
In and out.
Just existing together, warm and wet and tired.
Then, Jack carefully pulled out, tied off the condom, and set it aside to deal with later.
He pulled Benny against his chest as he laid back down, wrapping an arm around him, loose but absolutely there.
“You okay?” he asked, his hand automatically moving up and down Benny's spine.
He felt Benny shiver.
He heard the soft laughter.
“What?” Jack asked, worry pricking at his naked skin.
Benny pressed his forehead against Jack’s chest.
He could still hear him just fine.
“Consider Derrick Kennerly officially erased.”
* * *
The storm lasted longer than they’d expected.
Not that Benny could say he minded. The power had come back on just in time for them to shower, clean up, and settle back into bed with the excuse of rain still falling outside.
“You know, when we played two truths and a lie, I never found out which lie you told,” Jack said, propped up on a pillow next to him.
His hair was wet. His lips were red. Benny decided not to get nervous about either detail.
“You said you worked a wedding where you caught the groom cheating with the sister-in-law, you were going to jump in the water, and that you and Ethan have matching, very-well-hidden Beetlejuice tattoos.”
Something moved past the window. Even though the rain was still strong outside, there was a comfort about it now with Jack next to him. He felt safe. Content.
“Now I guess I know the second truth,” Jack continued. He was grinning. “I seem to recall a Polaroid-shaped something back there.”
Benny’s face flamed on, despite his comfort.
Jack dropped his chin to peer more closely at his change in expression.
Benny pushed at him.
“You know, I think you like watching me squirm,” he said. “Like, you go out of your way to watch my face turn red.”
Jack took the push with a dramatic fall back against the pillows.
“I won’t lie and say I don’t like looking at you, sweet cheeks, but after today, I think I found my favorite way to watch you move.” He winked. He actually winked.
Benny would look back at that moment—that seemingly silly banter—and realize that it was then that Benny forgot.
Not that they weren’t real.
Not that his time in Arbor Bay was coming to an end.
Not that there was an agent with a book deal that needed an ending.
No.
Benny forgot something much more important right then and there.
He forgot he was The One Who Said Nothing.
That he was the boy who typed the first entry with shaking fingers. That he was the man who kept typing with pain, with worries, with regrets.
That he was the one who had hidden from the world on purpose and then, on accident, had forced himself back into it.
He forgot that boy.
He forgot that man.
He forgot that fear.
Instead, in that moment, he was just Benny.
And he laughed.
He honest to goodness laughed.
And then, Jack joined in.
* * *
Two days later, he still didn’t realize how important that detail was. Instead, Benny was bouncing from foot to foot outside of Cassidy’s. He was impatient. He was anxious.
He was also a bit sore.
It was Friday night, a half hour before the bar’s festival party was set to start. Benny and Jack had spent the last few days stuck in a whirlwind of decorating Roger's boat, decorating the bar, and having sex.
Not that Benny was complaining.
Jack was still grumpy about the festival and Benny was still nervous about the internet, but behind closed doors they had found an easy groove of lips, tongues, and thrusts.
So much so that Jack had spent the night before at the house and Benny had a bag in Cassidy’s office, ready to venture to Jack’s apartment after the party.
It was an exciting change.
It was also the reason why Benny was grumbling outside the bar’s door, waiting for Ethan to show up.
Thankfully, he didn't have to wait until the cows came home. Ethan's green Volkswagen barely had time to pull in before Benny converged.
He greeted his best friend in a way neither of them had expected.
“I had sex on a boat today!”
Benny hadn't meant to yell the information, but he opened the driver's side door wider and kept on, staring right into Ethan’s wide eyes. “Jack and I had just finished decorating it and then, well, we had sex on the boat.”
Since boundaries had never been much of a thing between them, Ethan simply laughed.