A red tainted Silence (37 page)

“Stop complaining. I’ll warm you up.”

“Oh, you will, will you?”

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He nodded, grabbing the waistband of my sweats. “Take off the rest of your clothes and lie down next to me. Face me.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“But --”

He grinned slyly. “Don’t worry. Mutt has orders to keep anyone from disturbing us until we say so. Now, are you going to take off your clothes so I can see you naked, or what?” He looked at me, those incredible blue eyes of his half-closed, heated. “It’s been too long, Brandon,” he whispered. “Too long.”

I swallowed hard and nodded. He knew I wouldn’t resist him. Couldn’t.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I pulled off my sweats, grimacing as I pulled the one leg over my cast. “Damn thing,” I muttered, wincing. I closed my eyes against the tiny but persistent cartwheels of pain.

Nick’s hand touched my back, and the pain was soothed away by a wave of pleasure as he ran his hand up my spine, carefully avoiding my still-healing scar.

“You okay, babe? Still hurts?”

“Yeah. But not too bad.” After a moment, I stood on my good foot and folded my clothes, setting them on the chair.

“You’ve put on a lot of weight. For you, I mean,” he added with a laugh. “How much?”

“About twenty-five pounds or so. A little more.”

“I probably weigh less than you do, for once.” He nodded. “It looks damn good on you.” He reached out and swatted my behind.

“Hey, watch it,” I said, hopping about so he couldn’t smack me again. Of course, I just gave him something else to look at.

“Chilly?” he asked, eyeing my groin with amusement.

I growled and pounced on him. “Told you it was too cold to run around naked in here.

Now, scoot over.”

He did as I said, turning on his side so we were face to face. He reached for the control to the bed and pressed the button that made the bed lie flat. He pulled the blankets over us both so we were cocooned together. Then he reached up and turned off the light. It was mid-afternoon, close to four, and the brief hours of sunshine were drawing to a close. The room was already fairly dark. But I could still see his face.

It had snowed some again that morning, cloaking the hospital in a fresh blanket of white. It was cold, but as I lay next to Nicholas, snuggled against his satin-clad warmth, I felt all my chills fade away. He began to hum softly as he gazed into my eyes. He reached out from under the covers and ran his fingers over my eyebrows, tracing them, stroking the side of my face and tickling my chin.

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“You didn’t shave today.”

“Nope. Lazy.”

I reached up and did the same to him, stroking his eyebrows, trailing down his face, touching the scar across his cheek. A sudden wave of fear washed over me. It must’ve flashed in my eyes, since a look of concern crossed his. He cradled my face and brushed my lips with his own. “Shh, Brandon, it’s okay now.” He rested his forehead against mine.

I swallowed, but shook my head. “It’s not okay, Nick.” I took a deep breath, shuddering as I let it out. “If anything else happens to you, I don’t know how I could bear it.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to me. I worry more about you.”

“Me? Why?”

He ran his hand down my face, trailing his fingers to the back of my neck. He pulled me close, pressing his lips to mine, pulling back and smiling as a small groan escaped me at the too-brief touch.

“Because you’ve been so strong. Held up so long.” He shook his head. “Always so brave, so amazing. There for everybody, for me, for your family and mine. I’m worried it’ll hit you all at once, what you’ve had to go through. I’m worried I won’t be there for you when that happens.”

I gave a miserable attempt at a half-laugh, but it faded as I realized he was serious. I swallowed hard against the edge of fear that now always seemed to hover at the edges of my consciousness. “Nothing’s going to happen to me, Nick. I’m okay.” He smiled sadly. “I know you are. Okay.”

He lay on his back, pulling me to him. I stretched along his length, loving the feel of my bare skin against satin, the feel of his hand on my back. I laid my hand on his stomach, taking care not to touch his scar -- my own on my back was still a little uncomfortable, but most of the time I hardly noticed it anymore. But his still hurt, bad, and would for some time. Nicholas yawned. I could feel his exhaustion seeping through to me.

“You need to sleep,” I said.

“I know, but I sure would like to make love to you.” I looked up at him, unable to hide my pleasure. “It might be a while before you can do that, Nick.”

“Not if we switch.”

“What?”

He chuckled. “You should see your face. Don’t look so shocked. You have been top before, haven’t you? I mean, I know not with me, but surely ...” I looked away as I stiffened against him, feeling unaccountable guilt.

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“Nicholas, I --” I stopped, at a loss. Shame rolled over me as the memories of too many late nights with too many faceless partners flashed through my mind. Desperate, grasping attempts to forget the past and numb the present and obliterate the future.

None of it had worked.

Yeah, I’d been top, been bottom, been with two guys, three guys, even four, I think -- I don’t really remember much about that -- all nameless, faceless, some recognizing me, most not giving a damn even if they did. Numbed by grief and alcohol, I’d done all sorts of things, all in the vain attempt to forget the bad times and my role in them. Thank God I hadn’t slipped into drugs, hadn’t contracted HIV despite several very stupid times I’d been so drunk I’d barebacked, only realizing what I’d done the following morning.

My guardian angel had truly watched over me during that time in my life. I’d done all this crap, risked my life, in an attempt to forget. The only thing was, it hadn’t worked, and I’d only succeeded in scarring the memories of the good times, too.

“Brandon. Look at me.”

When I didn’t, he lifted my chin and forced me to. I blinked against the disgrace I felt.

I felt small and so ...

“Brandon. I love you. You know that, right?”

I nodded, licking my lips nervously. “I love you, too.”

“All that matters is now. And what we make of the future. Okay?”

“But I --”

He placed a finger across my lips, shaking his head. “No. I don’t want to know.” He smiled softly at me. “We did what we had to do, you and me, before we found each other again. All right?”

Oh, but the things I’d done. I wanted to tell him, right then, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. My throat was tight, and it was all I could do just to force myself to nod.

He kissed me, releasing my chin. “No problem, then. You’ll do fine.”

“You sure? I mean, about me ... um ...”

He laughed. “Brandon, I swear, sometimes you make me think you’re nineteen again. I always wanted you to, you know.”

“You did?” I said, startled. “But why didn’t you tell me then?” He captured my mouth with his again. “Because you were so damn sexy in your innocence. So shy. So new to everything, and I loved seeing you that way.” He ran his fingers underneath the covers down my chest, circling my nipple and tweaking it gently with his fingers. I arched my head back, pushing my erection against him and closing my eyes as waves of pleasure made me gasp. “And because of that.” I opened my eyes, my breath catching. “What?”

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“The way you respond to me. I loved making you respond to me. And I guess I never wanted to give that up.”

“You wouldn’t have had to.”

He slid his hand down my side. “I know that now. But it wasn’t only that, I guess. You made me feel powerful, where I never had before. But I don’t have to feel that way anymore to be happy.” He looked up at the ceiling, captured his bottom lip in his teeth, and shook his head. “Now, I can ... I can be vulnerable, and not be afraid.”

“You were afraid of me?”

He shrugged. “Not afraid of you, per se, but afraid of what you made me feel. I loved you so much, Brandon. Too much, I think sometimes. And when you started to pull away, I didn’t understand, and so I got afraid and grabbed hold of the only thing I could control, and that was it.”

He laid his forehead against mine as we shared the pain of what we’d gone through.

More words weren’t necessary -- not anymore. “I’m sorry, Nicholas,” I whispered.

“I’m sorry, too.”

“We really fucked things up.”

“No, no, we didn’t. Else we wouldn’t be together now.” He sighed and pulled me closer to him, his hand returning to my shoulder. “I’m so tired. I can’t believe how exhausted I am.” I set aside my disappointment as I stroked his face. Too pale, and circles underneath his eyes. “You pushed yourself too much today. This can wait.”

“But I want you inside me, Brandon. I want to know what it feels like, for me to be possessed by you.”

His words nearly undid me. But I shook my head. “After you take a nap.” He hesitated, but at my stern look, his shoulders sank in defeat. “I’m sorry.”

“No problem. I’m not going anywhere. You rest awhile. Then we’ll fuck.” He laughed at that. “That’s what I love about you, Brandon. So simply eloquent.”

“Works, doesn’t it?”

He yawned and covered his mouth. “Sorry. Yes, it does. All right. I’m not sure I can stay awake much longer anyway. Wouldn’t want to fall asleep on you. You sure it’s okay?

You’re kinda stiff down there.”

“Of course it’s okay,” I hastened to say. “I’m fine.” He nodded, then snuggled against me. When he spoke again, his voice was soft with weariness. “Remember our first time? First time I took you? That was one heck of a weekend, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, how could I forget?” No way I could forget that weekend -- the beginning of the most wonderful and most terrible time of my life.

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He smoothed his hand down my side and spread his hand over my backside. He yawned again, half turned to me, and cradled my face with his hand while he kissed me, a chaste, sweet kiss. I could feel his exhaustion, just through his kiss alone.

“This will be like our first again.”

“I hope it goes better this time,” I said wryly.

He chuckled and brushed my nose with his lips. “It will.”

“But not right now, Nicholas. You seriously need some sleep.” He nodded, closed his eyes, and leaned his forehead against mine. Within seconds, he’d fallen asleep. I shifted position, taking care not to wake him as I moved my broken foot where he couldn’t kick it on accident -- he can be a rather violent sleeper.

It felt so amazing, lying naked against him when he wasn’t, feeling his chest rise and fall steadily beneath my palm. His hand, still and warm, on my bare backside.

I couldn’t sleep, though. My mind wouldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said about him wanting me to make love to him. He wasn’t near ready for such hijinks yet, I didn’t think; though when I slid my hand down to his groin, he was semi-erect. He pushed against my hand in his sleep, and it was all I could do to not respond.

My mind drifted back to that weekend, the weekend of our first time. A wave of gloom washed over me, and I pulled Nicholas tighter to me. It was an odd thing, being at this very point in writing my memoirs, as Nicholas called them, to have him mention our first time together beyond a mutual jerk-off.

How difficult that weekend had been, for both of us. It had all begun with the party, of course. The party had started out so shitty, then turned into something so beautiful as Nicholas and I experienced for the first time the incredible power of our partnership over an audience.

But that joy had been short-lived. Seth Miller had seen to that.

* * * * *

I was so startled, I didn’t see his foot coming for me until it impacted my stomach. I fell forward, dizzy and in shock over the pain. I sensed rather than saw him draw back -- then his fists crashed across my shoulders. I fell to the ground in a heap, gasping for breath, desperate for air ...

I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t catch my breath. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck Nicholas please don’t come out please oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck ...

Hands grabbed me and hauled me to my feet. “Come on, little fucker.” I tried to fight, but that just earned a hard slap across my face. My head whirled; I saw stars were there 218

Carolyn Gray

weren’t any, felt blackness stealing over me as Percy’s buddy threw me onto my back behind a car.

I gasped for breath, trying to steel myself for whatever was about to come. I couldn’t move. It was as if my arms were frozen, my legs pinned to the ground. My attacker straddled my hips and leaned over me, grinning as he pushed my arms over my head.

Then, he kissed me.

I fought back as his tongue invaded my mouth, but he pulled back and slapped me across the face again. He wore a ring, I numbly realized as it cut me.

“Lay still, lover boy,” he said, his voice low and ominous. He fished in my pockets, pulled out my keys, and hurled them away. Then he pulled out my wallet and opened it, grinding his butt into my hips and laughing as I continued to lie still, defeated.

“Forty fucking dollars. Is that all, lover boy? That’s not nearly enough.” He tossed my wallet aside and leaned over me again, pinning my arms down once more. “You and me, we need to talk. Or rather, I’ll do all the talking. You’ll listen.” And that’s when I heard Nicholas calling for me. Panicking, I tried to buck my captor off -- I had to warn Nicholas and tried to call his name -- but that was the wrong thing to do.

He hit me in the face again.

“Do that again, and I’ll shove my fist up your ass. Or maybe you’d like that.” He leered at me. “You and pretty boy fisted each other yet?” He drew closer to me, so his face was only inches from mine. I glared at him, refusing to yield -- at least in my mind. My body wasn’t cooperating too well as I struggled to catch my breath, struggled against the pain. He grabbed my hair with one hand and wrenched my head to the side, exposing my throat and the mark Nicholas had made there. He latched onto it, sucking hard, laughing as he pulled back and admired his handiwork.