Bent Arrow (9 page)

“Boyfriend?”

Luther nodded. “You’ve been more than a lover to me since you rocked my world with that magical soul-opening dick of yours.”

Erik laughed. “Wow. I didn’t know the sex was that good.”

“It was, but more than that. It was… it was—”

“Would you just shut up and kiss me?”

“Yes,” Luther said, relief flooding through him as he pushed Erik back on the bed and moaned as Erik opened to him. It was immediately familiar, comfortable and warm.

Luther sat back so he could kiss up Erik’s belly, over the line of hair in the center of his stomach and up his chest. He wanted to kiss every part of him and felt frenzied.

Erik raised his arms over his head, so Luther helped him tug his shirt off and then licked and bit at his nipples. He sucked at the sensitive spot on Erik’s neck, breathed in his scent, and stood.

With a noisy clatter, Luther undid Erik’s buckle and fly. Erik planted his feet on the bed and lifted his ass so Luther could strip him, and then Luther was on his knees again, kissing the colorful feathers on Erik’s thigh, burying his nose in Erik’s balls, smelling them, licking them while he skinned out of his own clothes.

“I love how you taste. And smell.” He placed nipping kisses up Erik’s side and looked into amused eyes. He trailed the tip of his tongue around Erik’s nipples and sucked hard on them until Erik tugged at his hair and demanded another kiss.

This kiss was slower, and Luther poured all of himself into it. He communicated all those words he never said through each curl of his tongue, each taste he took of the skin on Erik’s throat and chest.

“Let’s get under the covers,” Erik said. Luther nodded and took the opportunity to slip out of his shoes and pants and grab the motel’s handy toiletries. “And you don’t have to be quiet.”

“I’m trying not to be. Old habits.”

“I’m familiar with those,” Erik said as he gave Luther a shy smile and then rolled over onto his stomach.

“The words are gone,” Luther said in amazement as he studied Eric’s tattoo. He sat and trailed his fingertip over where they used to be, and the skin felt perfectly smooth, not scarred, healed. “Did you need a third treatment?” He traced the arrowhead and the shaft until it disappeared under Erik’s hipbone.

“Yep. My boss drove me about a month ago.”

Erik turned to face Luther. His eyes were apologetic.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for that.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not. I should’ve come back here and apologized a hell of a lot sooner.”

Erik shrugged. “You weren’t ready. You needed to do it in your own time.”

Luther traced the bent arrow again, and the truth of Erik’s words rang through him. He hadn’t been ready until yesterday. “You’re right,” he said as he allowed his breath to ghost over the delicate lines of Erik’s tattoo. He kissed it, then traced it with his tongue. “You’re right, I wasn’t ready until I saw my fears weren’t nearly as important as not having you.”

As he palmed over the tattoo and curled his fingers around Erik’s hipbones, the smell and taste of Erik’s skin drew Luther’s focus to the small of his back. Luther paused at the two dimples, lips pressed between them as he centered himself, searching for more words Erik should hear. He kissed up Erik’s spine, counting the vertebrae as he thought, vowing to find his words before he got to the nob on the back of Erik’s neck. Then he’d talk, even if he could only whisper in Erik’s ear with his eyes clamped shut.

Rather than listening for words, Erik arched his back on the third kiss, lifted his hips, and begged, “Not up. Down. Move down.”

Luther kissed tentatively, moving lower, testing to see if this was what Erik truly meant. His breaths were shaky as he inhaled. “What changed?” he whispered.

“You did,” Erik said as he reached back to palm his cheeks apart. He whined, so Luther kept going until Erik’s sweet, gathered skin was under his tongue.

“You taste so good,” Luther said absently against his pucker.

“Don’t talk. Lick me.”

Luther smirked and thumbed Erik’s meaty ass cheeks farther apart so he could get in deeper, flickering around his rim until Erik’s hole started to open and relax. He licked inside, fucking Erik with his tongue and not believing this was happening at all. No ass play was what Erik had said from the start, and this was definitely breaking that rule.

Erik panted into his elbow as he rode Luther, pushing back and forcing deeper and deeper penetration until he asked, “Will you fuck me?”

“Are you sure?”

Erik rolled to his back and scooted under Luther so his legs framed Luther’s hips. “I’m sure.”

“Yeah?” Luther asked, even while rolling a condom on and lubing up. He stroked the crown of his dick back and forth across Erik’s entrance.

“Oh yeah,” he moaned.

He slid inside Erik slow and steady, and words spilled from his mouth before he was even halfway in. “I want to build a life with you. I want to make a home with you. Put down roots. Grow with you.”

“And if everyone knows about us?”

“It’ll be a blessing. I want them to know everything about you, like how much I love you.” He groaned when Erik clenched around his dick. “Oh fuck, you’re tight. I won’t tell people that, but I’ll tell them everything else I’ve learned about you. How great you are. How strong.”

Erik laughed in Luther’s ear and tugged on his ass cheeks, getting Luther to move now. “I’m glad you won’t tell people about my tight ass.”

“Then again—” He panted as he started thrusting in a lazy rhythm so he wouldn’t come too soon. “Jesus, the way you feel, it might slip out once or twice.”

Erik bit Luther’s jaw, teeth scraping as though he enjoyed the idea of Luther bragging about him.

Luther pulled back and looked into Erik’s eyes. Erik stared up at him and into his soul. “I love you, Erik.”

“Luther, I love you too.”

“But I’m not going to fucking last.” He groaned as he came a few thrusts later and apologized between a hundred kisses on the way to sucking Erik and bringing him off.

Finally Luther collapsed on the bed with the taste of Erik on his tongue and satisfaction in his heart. Erik slipped his fingers through Luther’s hair and tugged on the ends like he used to do, most likely trying to make him look like Billy Idol again.

Luther whispered, “Come for a week or two. Come see if you can handle it up there in the middle of nowhere with me.”

“Okay,” Erik whispered back, as though he didn’t want to lose the intimacy of the moment. “I’ll come for a week, and we’ll see if you still want me.” He leaned in and thumbed over Luther’s eyebrow. He looked so hopeful. “You’re serious about this. About me.”

“More than anything.” Luther rushed to kiss Erik, to hold him closer, savoring the taste and the feel of this strong man in his arms.

“I wasn’t so great at noticing all the times you were showing me. Was I?”

Luther shrugged.

“I’m sorry I missed or dismissed your feelings ’cause the words weren’t there,” Erik said.

“Hey, it’s okay. We’ll work it out. We’ll learn each other better. We’ll have time now.”

“And privacy to do so.”

“I feel like I’ve been searching for you my whole life and then suddenly you were there.”

“Yeah?” Erik chuckled as he circled Luther’s nipple. “Like magic?”

“Something a lot more comfortable than magic.” Luther pushed a dark wave of hair behind Erik’s ear and sighed contentedly. “Let’s go where we can stretch out our arms and look up at bright stars and feel safe. Come with me?”

“Yes,” Erik whispered against Luther’s lips.

TEN

C
OUPLING

E
RIK SLIPPED A
small cardboard box into Luther’s pickup cab, notching it in as neatly as a Tetris piece, then headed back into his motel room, out of the brisk breeze. Luther followed him. “Anything else?” he asked. He didn’t know what was Erik’s and what was Garth’s as he’d never spent time there.

“This is it.”

“Check the bathroom one more time, and I’ll check the drawers.”

“Luther,” Erik said with a smirk, “this is all I have here.”

“It seems like so little. I don’t want you to feel like you have nothing of yours up there and you end up getting bored.”

“Won’t happen. I’ve been hired by this handsome guy to help fix up his house until I can find a job.”

Luther stepped close enough so they were hip to hip, despite the motel door being open. He glanced out to the dusty landscape that obscured whether it was day or night, even to the sleepy men walking nearby. It didn’t matter here. All that mattered was the money and the draw of oil. Not this. Not the feel of a man you loved in your arms. Luther pressed his lips to Erik’s, opening them slightly to sneak a taste. “Only the work you want to do.”

“Mmm. Promise we can take breaks for sex?” he whispered against Luther’s damp mouth.

“We have a lot of rooms that need to be broken in.”

“And so you don’t feel like all I’m investing in this relationship is the clothes on my back, I’ll call the friend who has the bulk of my stuff stored in his hay loft. We’ll bring it to the lake soon, furniture and all.”

“I like the sound of that.” Luther smiled into another kiss. “You read me well.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. This is all new to me, this relationship thing. And yes, the fact that all you’re bringing is T-shirts, jeans, and a shaving kit is a little scary.

“I’m bringing me.”

Luther traced the stubbled line of Erik’s strong jaw. “The most important part in this equation. Ready to go?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Luther watched as Erik did one last rearrangement of his Tetris’d boxes before slamming the tailgate shut. They drove away, oil derricks getting smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror, less and less important.

Erik scooted to the center seat and took Luther’s hand, tangling their fingers together and lightly tracing over the veins in Luther’s forearms. The familiarity of the gesture made Luther let out a contented sigh. He looked to Erik and smiled.

“You ready for us? All this means?” Erik asked.

“I think so. I just hope I don’t get lost.”

“Don’t worry about that. I know the way.”

Luther turned the corner, onto a new highway, and headed toward home.

T
HE
E
ND

POSY ROBERTS

R
EAL LIFE.
G
ENUINE MEN.
T
RUE LOVE.

Posy Roberts writes about the realistic struggles of men looking for love. Whether her characters are family men, drag queens, or lonely men searching for connections, they all find a home in her stories.

Posy is married to a man who makes sure she doesn’t forget to eat or sleep. Her daughter, a budding author and dedicated Whovian, helps her come up with character names. When Posy’s not writing, she enjoys crafting, hiking, and singing spontaneously about the mundane, just to make normal seem more interesting.

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