Bad Influence (33 page)

“I’m sure he’ll have a lot to say on the subject. But I think he will find himself backing the plan, with his usual intensity.”

Silver recognized Zeb’s silhouette the instant it appeared in the kitchen door. He came down the steps. “I thought you had gone up to check on Marco until he came down.”

“How is he?” Gavin asked.

“Hungry enough to finish off the pizza.” Zeb stood behind Silver’s chair.

Silver had no trouble recognizing the next silhouette, either. Jamie banged through the door and out into the twilight.

He folded his arms on the back of Gavin’s chair. “So. I hear you’ve found a new cause.”

Gavin tipped his head back. “I have.”

“Won’t the dwarf wedge mussel people miss you?” Jamie stared down. The two of them might as well have been alone for all the attention Jamie spared for anyone not named Gavin.

“I spare no appreciation for such a noble crustacean, but I’d like to do something with personal meaning.”

“Thought you were.”

Gavin frowned.

“The hospice,” Jamie explained.

“I’ll still be doing that.”

“Not surprised.” Jamie leaned down to kiss him, Spider-Man style. “Come on. That kid ate all the rest of the pizza. You fill me in while I fill up at a drive-thru.” He pulled Gavin up out of the chair and started for the driveway before turning back with a typical Jamie exit line. “Enjoy the air mattress. It’s a single.”

Zeb wasn’t touching Silver, but he felt Zeb everywhere. The grip of his fingers over the back of the chair, the sound of his breath over the cricket chirps, and most of all the solid warmth of him, welcome even in the sticky air. A blend of steady reassurance and tingling awareness. It was something he’d like the chance to get used to.

“Sorry we didn’t make the movie.” Zeb’s words felt weighted like the air.

Silver was too. And then he was surprised at how sharp the regret was. A longing that hollowed his gut and was about so much more than a lame movie. Straight people could take dating for granted. No wonder queers either fucked and moved on or moved in. When were they supposed to learn how to date when being out together in the wrong place at the wrong time could get them beaten up? Eli’s heterophobia made a lot of sense.

“Yeah. Maybe I’m not cut out for dating.” Or moving in, according to Quinn. Not that Zeb had asked.

Was sneaking around—more than only the lie about his age—what had made it so easy for it to fall apart? Even Marco now had a chance to fall in love the first time in the open, with people who would understand.

Silver stretched his legs out. “Thanks for helping out with Marco. Getting in his brother’s face like that.” He paused, staring at a spider scuttling along the table edge. “I know you did it for me.” What the hell. Might as well put the whole thing out there. It didn’t look like they were going to be having sex anytime soon. “And I know it’s because you’re still riding the guilt train.” It was the truth. He wanted to know if Zeb knew it too.

Zeb stepped around the chair and stood between Silver’s legs before leaning back against the table. The spider made it by an inch.

A boat-shoe-covered toe nudged at Silver’s ankle until he looked up to Zeb’s face. “I did do it for you. For a second, I was ready to throw a punch at him for shoving you. And yes, I’m always going to wish I could go back and fix that night, but that isn’t why I wanted to protect Marco. I wanted to show you that I’ve changed.”

“How do you mean?”

“I had a lot of shame back then. About being gay.”

“And that wasn’t shame when you let my parents call you a pedophile?” The first rumble of thunder was only a vibration down in the bones of Silver’s ears, a low, deep warning. He expected Zeb to look away, but he didn’t.

“Even then. I thought letting them confront me was something I owed them. It was a mistake. But I’m changing. I’m learning from men like Eli and Jamie and Quinn and Gavin. And you.”

Silver slumped back in his chair. The sky had gone deep twilight with clouds. “Yeah, well, stick to Gavin as a role model.”

“He seems to think just as highly of you.”

“Jealous again?”

“No. It would be impossible not to like him.”

If Silver didn’t know how dark and deep Gavin’s cynicism ran, the guy would be perfect for Zeb. Polished. Smart. Undamaged.

“You should be with someone like him. A nice guy.”

“I want to be.”

Zeb’s easy agreement slammed into Silver’s chest, knocking the wind out of him. Good thing he was already sitting down.

Zeb leaned forward, his hands bracketing Silver’s neck where it rested against the chair. “You
are
a nice guy.”

Silver wanted to brush the praise away, force the reality that nice guys in Zeb’s world didn’t do bareback porn just to stay off the street.

Zeb loomed closer, hands on Silver’s shoulders. “No, screw that. I’ve had nice guys. I’ve dated and taken my time before ending up in bed with them.”

Silver’s skin prickled with gooseflesh.

Zeb’s hands moved onto Silver’s shoulders, intensifying the charge racing through his body. “None of them made me crazy. None of them made me feel like I couldn’t breathe right until we kissed. None of them made my whole body hum with the need to touch. You do.” Zeb’s grip shifted to Silver’s forearms and pulled him to his feet. “You turned my life upside down, and I couldn’t put it back together in any way that made sense without you.”

Silver wanted to believe him, believe in what kept driving them together, that this halo of electricity around them could somehow make everything all right again. But in the meantime… He swallowed back the spark of tears in his throat. In the meantime, they were kissing.

He tangled his fingers in Zeb’s hair, keeping him leashed to an exchange of breath and taste. Zeb parted his lips, drew Silver’s tongue inside. The groan that met him, the hands that dragged his hips forward, whether their connection was special or not, Silver knew what Zeb was asking, even before he tore his mouth free to whisper, “I want you inside me.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Silver knew he should say something back. Something real about his feelings, about having missed this for too long. But with his cock draining the blood from his brain, he could only grab Zeb’s ass through his khakis and mumble, “Okay.”

The sky opened with a solid crack that stunned Silver’s senses like a shot to the back of the head. The instant his heart started again, rain drowned them in an inverted ocean.

Inside the lighted house were towels and safety—and questions and decisions and delays.

Silver grabbed Zeb’s hand and ran for the garage, kicking open the side door and then sealing them inside. He didn’t want time to think, for uncertainty to seep in and wash away how right everything had felt a minute ago. He stripped off his shirt and tossed it. Zeb did the same before they slammed together, mouths and fingers frantic, like they had to find a way into each other.

Silver couldn’t get enough of the rain taste and ozone smell on Zeb’s skin. Sweeter than fresh laundry and shower water, carrying a rush and threat of energy from the storm, it drowned out the moldy-leaf-and-oil odor hanging in the close air. Everything was sharper, burned hotter under clammy skin. Silver raked his teeth across Zeb’s nipple, squeezed his ass through the soggy cotton.

“Yes.” Zeb groaned it into Silver’s ear, hot breath on hair standing on end. “Now, now, now, now.” Zeb tore at the front of Silver’s shorts, impatient fingers yanking the rivet out of the button.

Zeb went to his knees to deal with the rest of the barriers, not even bothering with the boxer briefs as he pulled Silver’s dick through the slit and into scalding-wet heat.

The contrast of mouth with dank, clinging clothes made Silver jump, hips flexing back and forth. Zeb gasped and sputtered, and it took every bit of control Silver had left not to force his way in, make that muscle convulse around the head of his cock as Zeb fought for breath. After a moment, Silver eased back, rubbing the head across Zeb’s lips, while Zeb’s tongue tried to recapture him.

With a floundering hand, Silver found the light switch. One glance at the floor made Silver haul Zeb up and steer him toward the workbench. It was only few steps, but in the space of those seconds Silver’s chest got tight, an anxious wave threatening to flood his brain with a million doubts and questions.

Zeb spun back and kissed him, and there was some proof to Zeb’s earlier words. The kiss fed Silver fresh oxygen, sharp as a winter rush of it when you surrender to need over warmth and peel the scarf from your face. He clung to Zeb’s shoulders, their hair dripping rain into the kiss.

Zeb wriggled a little, and then his slacks brushed damp and heavy over Silver’s legs on the way to the floor. Grabbing Silver’s hand, Zeb shoved a condom and a small lube packet into his palm.

“What kind of movie were you planning on?” Silver asked against the prickle of Zeb’s jaw.

Zeb’s breath came out in a huff, and he lifted his head to give Silver better access. “Anything that got us here.”

As Silver reached forward to put the condom and lube on the bench, Zeb turned away, hands braced wide on the plywood, lean back and muscular ass on display. Silver ran a hand down Zeb’s spine. Drops of water from his hair sparkled as they found paths along that length. Silver lapped one with his tongue, and then followed another all the way down, until his lips rested in a silky patch of hair at the top of Zeb’s ass. They’d tried a lot of new things together in those six months. But not this. A teasing flick of Silver’s tongue made Zeb groan and arch his back.

A flash lit up everything like one of Eli’s polarized images, and then a shock wave of thunder shook the building, the echoes and rumbles lasting another minute. After another blast that shook the windows, the bare light bulb popped and went out.

When Silver’s hearing came back, the rain was a solid wall of sound until Zeb’s harsh plea came out of the dark. “Don’t stop.”

Silver licked the little indentation. “I think I can find my way by feel.”

Spreading Zeb’s cheeks, Silver swiped the crease with his tongue. The muscles under his hands quivered. Another lap, wetter, a long, flat press against the hole. It was hard to tell if Zeb’s shocked gasp being audible over the rain meant that he’d never been rimmed or that he really liked it.

Pushing down on Zeb’s back got his ass up higher. Silver stopped teasing and focused his licks on the tight space he wanted into, breathing in Zeb’s sweat, his ass, all of it flavored by the cool rain. The taste was almost like his cock and balls, but darker, more intense. Zeb’s legs shook, and Silver wrapped one arm around Zeb’s hips to keep him steady. Silver moved his mouth like in a kiss, darting just the tip inside, the muscle shifting and twitching in response.

Zeb’s ragged breathing reached Silver over the rain, changes in length and pitch helping guide him on how much, how far to push. Zeb’s ass was soft and open, breaths deep when Silver kissed and sucked. The stab of his tongue made Zeb shake, his breath almost a whine.

Wetting a finger, Silver used it next to his tongue, humming and licking until the pressure eased enough to slide it in. He dropped to his knees so his mouth could reach the smooth skin right behind Zeb’s balls, then ran his tongue over the sac, drawing one and then the other in his mouth while fucking with his finger.

“God, Silver, please.” The drawn-out last syllable disappeared in another blast of thunder.

Zeb’s pleading and the burst of electricity drenched Silver in power, confidence. Blood rushed everywhere hot and full and loose like he’d had a hit of amyl. Silver flowed up Zeb’s back, lips below his ear. He pressed a second finger to Zeb’s hole, rubbed then pushed the tip in.

“Please.”

“Please what?”

He didn’t know which of them liked it more. Zeb being forced to say it, or Silver hearing the filthy words from Zeb’s mouth.

“Fuck me. Please fuck me.”

Silver did his own groaning when he had to tuck his cock back in to get those too-fucking-tight boxer briefs down his legs. Slapping his hand around on the plywood, he picked up a sliver and finally the lube and condom.

Another moan from Zeb distracted Silver enough that he forgot to worry about how his cock would react to the latex sheath until it was already rolled down to the base. It felt a little weird coating it with lube, the slick glide on his hand but not feeling it on the skin, like trying to jack a mirror image of his cock.

He used every last bit of the lube on his fingers and around Zeb’s hole, working it inside him as his back bowed and he pushed up.

“Fuck. Now.”

Silver grabbed Zeb’s circling hips and held him steady, using the other hand to line them up.

He’d thought the condom would make things harder. But in the pitch-black with nothing but the feel of their bodies and the sound of Zeb’s breath to guide him, Silver was even more aware of the pulse and twitch of muscle that told him how fast to go and when to back off.

He sank in, only the head and then the clamp of muscles telling him too much, too soon. He eased out and smoothed a hand down Zeb’s back and over his hip. Rubbing the tip over Zeb’s hole, Silver felt Zeb relax again, ass softening enough to let Silver in. Another breath as he waited for the pulse and softening that would let him slide home.