Bonds of Denial (16 page)

What was probably an easy question for most people wasn’t for Rock. Anyone who’d been rejected by their parents or forced to hide who they were in order to stay in their family never had an easy story to tell.

“It wasn’t bad growing up,” he began. “I’m the middle of three kids. My dad is career Army, infantry. We grew up on army bases all over the country. That wasn’t bad if you made friends easily like RJ and Rachel did.” Carter chuckled, and Rock leaned in to nudge his shoulder. “So you see my problem. I was twelve when I got my first computer. I found it in the garbage and spent four months reading manuals and gathering parts until I got it working. I was in heaven. I’d finally found something I enjoyed.”

“I can so picture that.”

Rock raised a brow but couldn’t stop his smirk. “I didn’t have to talk to anyone when I was behind a computer.”

“You still don’t.”

“The perfect lover.”

Carter threw his head back and laughed. “And I thought that was me.”

Rock waited until he looked at him again. “You are.”

“Shit.” Carter leaned in and planted a hard kiss on his lips before he pulled back, a grin still in place. “When did you first know you were gay?”

The smile dropped from Rock’s face as he turned to stare at the view, seeing nothing. The sick twist and plunge in his stomach was still there. Just like it always was whenever he thought back to that time. He waited, hoping Carter would see his discomfort and give him an out, but he didn’t.

This was the anything he’d said he would share.

“Is five too young?” He shook his head and wet his lips, not expecting an answer. “I had no idea what it meant, but I can remember looking at other boys and liking what I saw, even if I didn’t understand what it meant. I was raised to believe that being gay is bad. I saw how my brother, father and all their friends made fun of gay men and I never wanted to be the guy they were ridiculing. It’s degrading and I wouldn’t put myself there. Couldn’t.”

He expected Carter to say something, but he only gave a light squeeze on his hand.

“By the time I hit my teens I refused to acknowledge what I felt. I dated girls, talked smack and did all the normal boy things. Until I met Nicholas. I was fourteen.” He didn’t want to go back there. He’d buried that memory for a reason.

“There’s always a first one,” Carter said quietly.

Was there ever a last? “It was the easiest friendship I ever had. He was two years older, but it didn’t matter. We became inseparable until the day my dad caught us kissing in my bedroom. That was the last time I saw him.”

He had to pause there as the memories took over and brought with them the same rush of fear, shame, horror and disgust, like it’d happened yesterday and not twenty years ago. His skin was clammy despite the chilly temperature and he was suddenly too hot in his winter jacket. He
tugged the zipper down, but it didn’t help. The sickening swirl of emotions was still there.

“Talk through it,” Carter said. “It’s the only way to get past it.”

The voice of experience. Rock heard it in Carter’s tone and forced himself to finish. He had to swallow twice and stalled once by coughing to loosen the tightness gripping his chest, but he eventually found his voice again. “My dad went nuts. He threw Nicholas out and turned his anger on me. I didn’t fight back. Couldn’t, not when I knew what I’d done was wrong.” The memory of the beating lashed out and he winced. It still ranked as the worst pain he’d ever endured. His dad was a big man and he hadn’t bothered to rein in his strength. “I ended up with two cracked ribs, a black eye and more bruises than I could count. I missed school for a week. When I got back, Nicholas was gone. His dad had been transferred to another base. My dad took away my computer and tracked my every movement for the next year, which was fine. I was done with Nicholas. I wasn’t gay.”

A gust of wind pushed at his back, chilling the sweat on his neck. He took a deep breath and it came back out on a long shudder. How could a memory hurt so badly? It was over, yet the rawness was right there, cutting him with fresh wounds.

“Did your mom do anything?” Carter’s grip was strong on his hand, and that was probably the only thing keeping Rock there. He’d been running ever since that event so long ago. Now Carter was holding him still, finally.

Rock shook his head then shrugged. “She took care of me, but she never said a word about why Dad had lost it. We don’t talk about what’s wrong in our family. You ignore it and it eventually goes away. I doubt if I would’ve talked to her anyway.”

“And your siblings?”

He grunted at that. “RJ was worse than my dad. The first sergeant never spoke of it again. My brother lived to never let me forget it. Rachel was the only one who seemed to understand. She’s a year younger than me.” He gave a wistful smile. She’d always been his champion. Back then he’d hated it. Now he admired how brave she’d always been. Braver than him. “She tried to talk to me, but I shut her down. There was nothing to talk about.”

“You weren’t gay.” Carter’s statement hung between, and Rock could only chuckle at how stupid it sounded.

“I wasn’t gay.” Rock repeated the words around another sarcastic laugh as he wiped at his nose. “I believed that for years. I honestly convinced myself I wasn’t. I had a girlfriend in high school. I slept with women. I did everything a straight male was supposed to do and it didn’t matter.” He squeezed his eyes closed, his free hand fisting. “Years of denial. Fucking years of cursing every dream that included a man, every stray thought about a guy that I shoved back, every fucking boner from looking at a guy that I refused to admit to, was all for nothing. It didn’t change anything.”

Carter lifted their clasped hands to place a kiss on the back of Rock’s. The soft press of lips on his skin about did him in. He sniffed and squeezed his eyes tighter, his throat working.

“Being gay isn’t a choice,” Carter said.

“I know,” Rock croaked. He exhaled and blinked his eyes open. “God, believe me I know.”

Carter released Rock’s hand to wrap his arm around Rock’s shoulders. He pulled him close, his head tipping to brace against Rock’s. It was the most natural thing for Rock to wrap his arm around Carter’s waist and hold on.

“People fail to understand that most of us don’t want to be gay,” Carter said. “We’d never choose it. I doubt anyone would jump up, screaming ‘pick me!’ to be the brunt of jokes, spit on,
beaten, even killed—all because of who we love. The only choice we have about being gay is how long we suppress or deny it.”

Rock turned his head and inhaled a full breath of Carter’s scent until his lungs couldn’t expand any farther. He held it, wanting to keep it, keep this, so he’d never have to go back to where he’d been. “It hurts,” he mumbled after he finally exhaled, the admission stunning him but not enough to withdraw it.

“Yeah. And then it gets better. You can never be happy if you don’t accept yourself. Once you do though, the other stuff becomes background noise.”

Rock couldn’t even nod to that. Being with Carter felt good. He was happy with him. But was he man enough to ignore the rest of the world? He still didn’t know the answer to that. “How did you do it?”

“Come out?”

Rock nodded, his head moving against Carter’s where it still rested. The man’s soft laugh startled him enough to pull back.

Carter glanced his way, a wry smile on his lips. “Like you, I knew my parents would never accept it, but I was brazen enough to think I didn’t need them. I was eighteen, young and stupid. I came out after high school. I was heading to college, so the world was mine to take.” He tipped his head back and sighed. “Three years later, I was broke, buried in bills, about to be homeless and desperate enough to call them. They told me to never contact them again. I was dead to them.”

Wow, that was harsh. The pain of being completely rejected by his parents had to have been crushing. At least Rock’s parents hadn’t disowned him.

“And that’s when you got into the escort business.” Rock wasn’t guessing. He knew the dates and did the math. This “why” was the piece he hadn’t had. “Do you regret it now? Coming out when you did?”

Carter stared blankly at the skyline. He tucked both of his hands in his pockets, but Rock kept his arm wrapped tightly around him. “No,” he finally said, the word firm. “I probably should, but I can’t regret being who I am. Most people won’t agree with me or my choices, but regret is useless. I am who I am. If someone doesn’t like it, then I don’t need them in my life.” There was no leeway in his voice. The solid belief was firmly rooted.

“I like you.” Too much probably.

Carter huffed out a laugh. He looked at Rock, his eyes searching for a long moment before he whispered, “I like you, too.”

Rock’s chest swelled and he almost choked when he inhaled too quickly. They were simple words that said so much more. There, with the city stretched before them all shiny and new and the old building decaying beneath them, he knew he was looking at his future—if he dared to take it.

He kissed Carter then, a long, slow search that had him gripping the back of Carter’s neck to hold him closer. Carter’s hand was cold when it pressed against Rock’s jaw, his moan low and appreciative. Their tongues twirled around each other with a softness that touched on all they’d revealed to each other. It was gentle and deep, but not pressing.

He nipped at the softness of Carter’s lip, little bites that teased before Carter swooped in to thrust his tongue into Rock’s mouth. The taste of mint was so Carter now that Rock would always associate the flavor with him.

Carter eased up, peppering lighter and lighter kisses over his lips before he rested his forehead on Rock’s, his deep breaths warming Rock’s cheek. “Damn.”

Rock grunted a single-note laugh. “Agreed.”

A shiver rolled through Carter and he pulled back, wiping a hand over his mouth, a nervous laugh muffled beneath it. “We should get going. It’s freezing out here.”

They packed up Carter’s stuff with minimal words, then made their way out of the building. Rock glanced at the corner as they left to see a dark shape huddled under the mound of blankets. It was unmoving, and Rock imagined that whoever was under there was praying they didn’t notice him.

Rock closed the door firmly behind him before following Carter to his car. They took the same path back, but it felt like a completely different trail. Each step was one more away from something and closer to another. That was always true, only this was the first time he was actively looking forward to where he was going.

“Did you get the paperwork?”

Carter bit his tongue to keep the sarcastic reply from spilling out. He tightened his hold around his phone so he didn’t toss it across the room. “Yes.” He wanted to tell Hank exactly what he thought of the new contract and his business, but he wasn’t stupid. Burning that bridge wouldn’t end well for him.

“If you want to keep working, I need the new contract signed before your current one ends.” The know-it-all tone imparted the information like Carter lacked the brains to grasp that. It was an image he let the man have.

“Got it.”

“That’s less than two months,” Hank barked.

Oh, did he know that. Forty-nine days, to be exact. “Yes.” Saying “I know” would only egg the man on.

“Get it to me.” That God-awful sniff came through the line, and he cringed. “Now tell me why your regular cancelled?”

He dropped his head into his hand and rubbed at the headache that was building. He’d known this conversation was coming, but it didn’t make it easier. “I don’t know.”

“What did you do?” The accusation was expected. “Or not do?”

“To my knowledge, I did nothing wrong.” He took a breath and forced his voice to remain steady. “He didn’t say anything to me last month.”

“You’ll have to make up the income loss.” Carter had anticipated that. “I’ll line up some more customers for you since you can’t keep your own.”

He didn’t respond, and the beep on his phone told him Hank had hung up. Thank God. He let out the breath he’d been holding and carefully set his phone down. It was worth it. There was no way he could return to The Den. Whatever Hank threw at him would be better than having Rock watch him in action. Again. He wouldn’t do that to either of them.

Contacting his client and informing him he was done with the BDSM club had been easy. The money hadn’t factored into it at all. The client had been disappointed but understanding. He wasn’t a jerk and had even agreed to keep his cancellation vague with Hank. Carter owed the man.

He checked the time. Rock would be there soon. Another glance around the kitchen showed nothing out of place. He moved to the living room, straightening the stack of photography magazines for the tenth time.

It was just Rock, but it was his first visit. He couldn’t shake the nerves that had him fluttering around like a damn hummingbird. His jitters were worse than his first time with a john, which was ridiculous.

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes.
The bathroom
. He sprinted up the stairs and into his master bath, heart pounding. He grabbed a hand towel out of the linen closet and kneeled down to open the door under the second sink. It wasn’t like Rock would go snooping in his cupboards, but just in case, he threw the towel over his box of enema supplies. Sure, it was something most gay men had around, but his conscience knew it was for work, not pleasure. Even though he’d used the items earlier.

It wasn’t logical. It didn’t matter. None of his reactions all day had been logical. He double-checked the bedside drawer to ensure he had supplies stocked there. He’d never had a man in his room, so it wasn’t something he usually worried about. The butt plugs and dildos
were already stashed in a box in his closet. Again, they were trade tools to him, not toys bought for fun. They didn’t belong with Rock. Not those ones.

The last four weeks had been some of the best in his life and he didn’t want to mess this up. The connection between them had only grown stronger since that day on the rooftop. Yet he still couldn’t kick the sensation that there was a time bomb ticking off the seconds until his happiness was shattered.

A knock on his door had him sucking in a breath.
It’ll be fine
.

He popped in a breath mint and hurried downstairs, pausing to run his hands through his hair and straighten his collar before he opened the door. “Hey, Rock. Come on in. Did you find it okay?”

Rock wiped his boots on the rug as he leaned in and pulled Carter in for a kiss. His lips were slightly chilled, just like his fingers on Carter’s nape. The scent of the cold outdoors clung to Rock, which seemed to emphasize his ruggedness.

The nerves eased out of him as Rock stepped back, a smile on his face. “You forget that Deklan and Jake both live here.”

“Damn. I did.” Sometimes he purposely blanked out the whole club connection. “Here.” He reached for the reusable shopping bag Rock was holding. “Let me take that. You can hang your coat on the hook.” He left Rock to remove his boots and winter jacket and took the bag around the corner to the kitchen.

“You have a nice place.”

Carter turned from unpacking the contents of the bag, but Rock was still in the hallway. “Thanks,” he called out.

“Did you take these?”

He walked back to find Rock studying the line of black-and-white prints he’d hung down the entry wall. “Yeah.”

“They’re nice.” He turned, and his smile kicked at something in Carter’s heart. He was in so much trouble with this man.

“Thanks,” he said again and tried to get himself under control. He was acting like this was his first date or something. “I marked the spot where I took the picture then came back every four months to capture the changes over time.”

“It’s fascinating.” It wasn’t faked interest in Rock’s voice. “This change was all completed in a year?”

“Yeah.” Carter walked up to stand behind Rock. He wrapped an arm around the man’s waist and pointed to the first picture. “I’d read about the demolition on the city planning website, so I scouted out a building that would give me this perspective.”

“How did you know where to look?”

“I didn’t. I spent hours walking city blocks until I found the boarded-up building where I took these from. Then I had to find a way in without getting caught. Most buildings have one if you know where to look.”

Rock cocked his head to glance at Carter over his shoulder. “And you do?”

He grinned. “I do now.”

“How long have you been doing that?” Rock nodded toward the pictures.

“The urban contrast shots?” He stopped and thought back, counting the time in his head. “Six or seven years? Something like that.” He rested his chin on Rock’s shoulder, rubbing his hand absently over the firm lines of Rock’s abs beneath the soft material of his sweater. “I stopped taking pictures when I started…escorting. They were two separate things in my mind.”

“What do you mean?”

“One was who I wanted to be, the other who I had to be.” He’d been so naive once again. He’d believed that if he didn’t mix the two parts of his life, nothing could be tarnished. It was glaringly young and optimistic when he looked at it now.

“What changed that?” Rock’s voice had lowered.

There were so many things that had changed. It was hard to define it exactly. “At some point, I opened my eyes and saw that who I had to be was who I was. Period. And who I was missed being behind the camera.” That first day when he’d dug his camera bag out of the back of his closet flashed to him like he was there again. He could see now that it was what had saved him from getting completely lost in the darkness that had wanted to tear him apart inside. “That’s when I started hunting down the lost buildings. They say so much if you stop to look.”

Rock turned in his arms, his eyes searching. “What do they say to you?”

Carter stared over Rock’s shoulder at the pictures. He knew them by heart, could remember taking each image. “Each one is a different story of lost opportunity.” Damn. He stepped back, avoiding Rock’s gaze, a dry laugh burning his throat as he forced it out. “Come on. I thought you were teaching me how to bake cookies.”

“You sure about this?” Rock asked as they entered the kitchen. He didn’t say anything more about the pictures, and Carter was grateful.

He looked over the supplies he’d taken out of the bag, not at all certain about their task. “Yup. I want to see you in an apron.” He let out a real laugh and spun away when Rock lunged for him.

“I don’t wear aprons.”

He eyed up his man, standing defiant with his hands on his jean-clad hips. “But you’d look so cute,” he teased. Not. Rock was not an apron kind of guy, but it was fun getting a rise out him.

Rock pointed a finger at him. “You’re asking for it.”

God, was he ever. Carter wiggled his brows. “Always.”

“Shit,” Rock said with a roll of his eyes. He waved a hand at the cupboards. “Get some bowls out. I hope you have measuring cups and spoons. I didn’t bring mine.”

Carter bent to dig out a mixing bowl from under the counter. The fact that they could joke about sex without his work coming between them was proof of how far their relationship had come. He set the bowl on the counter, his smile too big to contain. “What kind of cookies are we making?” He’d have to run extra miles tomorrow to make up for this indulgence, but it was more than worth it.

“You said oatmeal chocolate chip were your favorite.” Rock ducked his head and busied himself moving ingredients around on the counter.

“They are,” Carter said, his voice softer than he’d intended. The little ripple of sensation that rose from his stomach to his chest was completely different than the swirl of nerves that had plagued him earlier.

He could totally love this man if he wasn’t careful. It was too early for that. It was too early for a lot of things, but that didn’t stop the emotions from surfacing anyway.

He cleared his throat. “Right.” He rubbed his hands and stepped up next to Rock. “Show me the way, maestro.”

Rock shot him a look. “I’ll show you the way.”

“I’m counting on it.” Carter bumped his hip into Rock and laughed when Rock couldn’t keep his smile from breaking through his scowl.

The next hour was spent measuring, mixing and kissing. Yeah, he couldn’t resist dropping kisses on Rock’s nape when he bent over, his concentration on leveling sugar in a cup or kissing the quirk of his lips when he didn’t like the consistency of the batter. Even the wrinkle on his brow that formed when he tried to glower at Carter was worth kissing. Touching. It was fun just to touch him freely whenever he wanted without worrying about intentions or outcomes or reactions.

“You’re not even paying attention,” Rock accused after he’d turned the mixer off, the room going quiet after the loud burr of the motor.

“Yes, I am.” Carter was leaning against the counter, completely focused on the man.

Rock grabbed a towel and snapped it at Carter. “On the cookies. Not me.”

“Why not you?”

“I thought you wanted to learn how to make these.” He motioned toward the bowl of cookie batter.

Carter crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged. “I did. But I really wanted to watch you doing something you enjoy.” Rock’s gaping stare was too comical not to chuckle at.

“What?” he sputtered, his cheeks turning that pale red that Carter found irresistible.

He stepped up, circling his arms around Rock’s neck. “You got to watch me doing something I love. I wanted the same chance.”

“Hell.” Rock looked down, his hands going around Carter’s waist. “That’d be kind of boring.”

“Why?”

“What I really love is computers.”

“I know.” He nudged Rock with his head until he tilted his face up enough for Carter to kiss him. “This seemed more interactive.”

Rock’s small hum vibrated into Carter’s mouth. He picked up the faint sweetness of soda over the flavor that was only Rock. Sucking on his tongue, he searched for more while savoring the heat that bloomed within him.

“I agree,” Rock murmured between small kisses down Carter’s jaw. “This is better.” The man traced a wet line around Carter’s ear that sent goose bumps down his neck.

Carter had to agree with Rock.
This
was better.

Rock tugged him closer to grind their groins together. He rocked his hips, the hard outline of his growing erection nudging over Carter’s. Carter closed his eyes and welcomed the rise of his hunger. He could never get enough of Rock.

He ran his palm over the bristle of hair at the back of Rock’s scalp and angled his head back until he could capture Rock’s mouth in another kiss that went on forever. What started out slow and searching eventually turned into urgent and demanding.

Rock backed him up until he hit the sharp edge of the counter. He groaned at the impact, his erection pressing against the confining fabric of his jeans. With effort, he jerked his mouth from Rock’s. “Bed?” Carter panted.

“Where?”

“Upstairs.”

Rock’s heavy breaths raced over his neck. He still couldn’t say what it was exactly about this man that wound him up and held him so tight, but he’d stopped dissecting and chose to enjoy whatever it was for as long as it lasted. Because no matter how good it was, history had shown him it would end. He wasn’t naïve and young any more.

He leaned into Rock until the man stepped back. “Come on.”

“Wait.” Rock grabbed the bowl of cookie dough, quickly covered it and shoved it into the fridge before he turned back to Carter, his eyes glinting with mischief. “We can bake them later.”

“That’s an excellent plan.”

The short trip upstairs took less than a minute, but each step seemed so very important. They’d had sex multiple times by now, each time better than the last. But they’d always been at Rock’s place.

He turned to Rock as he backed up toward his bed, undoing the top buttons on his shirt before pulling it over his head. He caught Rock’s quick inhale of breath and his slow scan over Carter’s bared chest. He wasn’t as muscular as Rock, but he didn’t work out for nothing.

Rock stripped his sweater off in one smooth move that had his abdominal muscles flexing in a delicious way. Holding Rock’s gaze, Carter undid the snap on his jeans and slowly eased the zipper down. The rip of the teeth cut through the silence, a tease for what was coming.

The tension building between them was incredible. They were feet apart, just out of arm’s reach but close enough to hear each breath and low sound of appreciation Rock made. They’d seen every inch of each other by now, but this deliberate smoldering of anticipation was erotic and sensual.

Purposeful.

Carter dipped his hand into his jeans. A moan escaped and his eyelids lowered when he fisted himself. Man, he wanted to dive into the man standing there, eyeing him like he was the most amazing thing he’d ever seen. Carter could relate.