Hearsay (32 page)

"This place is fantastic," Derrick said on their way back to the first floor. "I don't understand why you don't like it."

"Oh, I like it." Roman wouldn't have paid millions for it if he didn't. "But I said it isn't all that because it has no heart." He helped Derrick out of his suit jacket, took off his own, and placed them on a chair in the first floor living room. "It isn't filled with trinkets and mementos like your place is. Instead of pictures of loved ones, I have paintings that mean nothing to me on the walls." He looked down and lifted the rug with the tip of his shoe. "I like your apartment," he said, peeking at Derrick from under his lashes. "It has enough heart in it to fill up this house ten times."

Derrick smiled lovingly at him before asking, "Did you choose anything in this house?"

"I personally picked everything that's in my bedroom and the library." He placed his hand on the small of Derrick's back and led him to the kitchen, hoping to feed him a sandwich while he was still too distracted to think about going to jail. He turned the kitchen light on and gestured for Derrick to take a seat. "I also bought my own coffee maker. Choosing the right one is not as easy as most people think."

"Well, most people aren't coffee snobs," Derrick teased, closing the space between them instead of taking a seat. He traced Roman's jaw, Adam's apple, and the length of Roman's tie with his finger as he whispered, "Just so you know, I'm dying to French kiss you, but I puked my guts out not even an hour ago. I really need a toothbrush and minty toothpaste 'cause my mouth feels gross."

"The things you say," Roman laughed. "There will never be a dull moment with you."
 

"I want to keep you on your toes." Derrick's seductive tone went straight to Roman's cock.

"Mission accomplished," Roman rasped.

Derrick lifted his hand and grabbed Roman's jaw tenderly. "How are you holding up?" he asked, looking Roman in the eye.

Roman frowned. "I'm fine." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm not the one dealing with a wrongful arrest."
 

"But you're the one feeling responsible for it," Derrick said, startling the hell out of him.

Roman cleared his throat. "I beg your pardon?"

He did feel responsible. He was convinced DA Lovett wouldn't have tried to take things so far with Derrick had he not been an employee of ABC. But he hadn't thought Derrick would notice, considering how upset he was.
 

"I understand how being Lovett's target would make you feel you played a part in my arrest, but you didn't. I'm the one doing pro bono work at the Coleman Safe House," Derrick said firmly. "
I
put myself in the place where this craziness originated. It isn't my fault that a kid decided to make up a bunch of stories, and it isn't yours either. Say it isn't your fault."

Roman opened his mouth to refute Derrick's statement, but no words came out.

"Say it," Derrick ordered quietly. "It isn't my fault."

"It isn't my fault," Roman finally whispered after a few attempts.

"There you go." Derrick gave Roman a quick peck on the lips, followed by what had to be the sexiest smile in the world. "Now, all you have to do is keep saying it until you believe it, because I already do."

Derrick's ability to read him like an open book and make him feel a thousand times better just by whispering a few words made Roman weak in the knees. His chest tightened from thinking of all the ways in which Derrick had made him feel loved in the past few days.

Roman had absorbed all of it like a sponge.

This was exactly what he'd wanted. What he'd hoped would happen when he started meeting Derrick for lunch at The Pond. This connection between them was everything he'd ever wished for, and Roman could've cried because he was so fucking happy he'd finally gotten it.

He couldn't get enough of Derrick's beautiful soul. He admired Derrick's capacity to get himself together even when he was freaked out of his mind, and respected his willingness to always be honest about everything he felt, no matter what.

A year ago he'd left Central Park wondering if he'd ever be able to sit close to Derrick again. And here they were today, standing close enough to inhale and exhale each other's breath despite Roman's HIV status and despite Dennis Lovett's crap.

He gripped Derrick's waist with his hands and pressed their foreheads together. "You make me feel like the luckiest man in the world." He sighed contentedly when Derrick gripped the back of his neck.

 
"I'd love to stay here and listen to all the ways you think I'm fabulous and perfect, but I'm going to have to ask you to hold that thought." Derrick kissed him on the lips and gave him a slow, seductive smile. "I really,
really
need to kiss you properly, babe. So, would you please forget about feeding me for the time being and come with me to your awesome en-suite bathroom? I need to brush my teeth, and I could use a shower. Care to join me?"

Derrick didn't wait for an answer. He just grabbed Roman's hand and pulled him out of the kitchen, through the living room and foyer, and up the stairs.
 

Roman wet his lips and let out a rushed breath.

The time had come to get Derrick through his making-out stage.

Derrick started stripping off clothes the moment they entered the bedroom. Shoes, socks, belt, tie, shirt, undershirt... Roman took off his own shoes, socks, tie, and shirt as he followed the trail of Derrick's discarded clothing all the way to the bathroom. He was wearing only pants when he got through the door, just in time to see Derrick reach inside the four-person shower to turn on the faucets. They were far enough from the glass door that he had to lean forward and lift one of his legs to keep his balance while he adjusted the temperature of the water. This gave Roman an eyeful of round, firm ass, and a good peek at hairless, low hanging balls.

Oh, lord
, Roman thought.
This is too much temptation.

Not being able to have anal intercourse with Derrick was going to drive him raving mad.

Roman knew that eating and pounding ass wasn't the be-all and end-all of gay sex. Some guys hadn't tried either, and others simply didn't like it. But that wasn't the case for Roman.

He loved anal, and, in the case of rimming, he loved both doing it and having it done to him. Not being able to share one of his favorite sexual activities with his partner would be extremely frustrating. He just hoped he could handle it.

He rubbed his face with a trembling hand, his gaze sliding over the double sinks, the toilet, and the whirlpool tub as he racked his brain for something to say. He avoided looking towards the shower.
 

"You're starting to look more like yourself," he finally said. He'd noticed Derrick's caramel-toned skin didn't look as pale, and his eyes weren't as puffy or red anymore. "Feeling better?"

"I'm getting indicted on only God knows how many charges," Derrick answered slowly without looking at him, his voice almost too low to be heard over the running water. "Going in front of the judge at midnight instead of noon doesn't change the fact I'll have a rap sheet by the end of the day. I don't know if I'll feel better at some point today, but I know having you by my side really helps."

Roman took a step forward, then came to a halt. He wanted to hug Derrick and tell him how much that comment meant to him, but he didn't dare.

Derrick had his ass up in the air. His
naked
ass up in the air, and there was no way in hell he could go anywhere near Derrick without considering the limitations of their relationship. Not right now; not when Roman was already drooling just from looking at that ass.

"Does it really take this long to set the water temperature?" he groaned a few seconds later, palming his cock through the fabric of his pants and underwear before shoving his hands into his pockets. "Are you doing this on purpose?"

Derrick glanced over his shoulder and gave Roman a slow once over. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the way you're standing," Roman said in a guttural voice, his hard-on pressing against his pants like a club. "Are you trying to make me come in my pants?"

Roman thought that Derrick was, and he knew it could totally happen.

He'd wanted to possess Derrick's lean, taut body for far too long. He'd spent the last hour thinking about fucking him until they were both screaming in ecstasy, and he was consumed by visions of doing it right there in the shower. It wouldn't take much for him to lose control.

Derrick's gaze lingered on Roman's erection, and he licked his lips before rasping, "I'm just trying to decide how hot you would like it." He stuck his fingers under the water for a second, then closed the glass door, and turned around slowly. "Personally, I want it scalding."

Roman breathed loudly through his nose when his eyes made the trip south down Derrick's body. His hard-on rivaled Roman's in length and girth, and it was everything Roman could do not to sink to his knees and suck it.

It wasn't only Derrick's mouth-watering cock that made Roman lose his mind and behave like a randy teenager; it was his confidence. The way he owned up to everything he did and his determination to get what he wanted. Without Derrick's confidence, Roman would still be drowning his sorrows in single malt scotch and wishing he could get Derrick naked instead of actually seeing him naked, like he was now.

He cleared his throat and said, "Scalding might hurt you."

Derrick fisted himself and closed the distance between them. "I'm sure we can find ways to enjoy the heat without getting third-degree burns." He pressed his lips to Roman's chest, right over his heart, but moved away from Roman suddenly. "Are these your medications?" he asked softly.

Roman jerked his head to the right. Derrick had one of the bottles in his hand, and was reading the label. Before he could think of a better way to handle things, he launched forward and snatched the bottle from Derrick's hand.

"What the hell?" Derrick's startled reaction made Roman feel like the biggest douche on Earth.

He knew he owed Derrick an apology, but he was too agitated.

"I forgot to put these away," he mumbled, opening one of the vanity sink doors and throwing the bottles of medications and supplements inside. He then rummaged around until he found a sealed toothbrush, a new tube of toothpaste, deodorant, and body wash, none of which had ever been used. "Here you go," he said, placing all the products on the top of the vanity sink without looking at Derrick. "These are for you." He rubbed his face, grabbed the body wash, and placed it in the shower, and then he walked over to the armoire located on the opposite wall. His hand was shaking when he reached inside for a couple of clean towels.

Calm down,
he ordered himself, letting go of the towels and gripping one of the shelves.
There's no reason to feel this way around him.

Rationally speaking, he knew he was overreacting. But this was the first time Derrick was seeing tangible proof Roman was harboring a killer in his body, and he couldn't help feeling like a fucking monster.

"I highly doubt I'll get HIV from using your soap, but I won't even glance at your toiletries, if that makes you feel better," Derrick said in a strained tone. Roman couldn't tell if he was mad or hurt. "Also, I know the reason why we can't have wild monkey sex just yet, so what difference does it make if I see your meds?"

Derrick's question cleared things up. He wasn't mad or hurt. He was frustrated.

Roman squeezed his eyes shut and counted to ten. "You're right," he murmured. "It shouldn't matter at all."

"But it does," Derrick guessed with a sigh. "We
so
need that appointment with the therapist," he grumbled, walking over to Roman's side. "I'm considering taking
Truvada
for pre-exposure treatment. I'm sure you've heard of it. Are you going to freak out if I start taking it?" he asked with a sideways glare.

Roman bit the inside of his cheek, not entirely sure how he felt about Derrick taking prophylactic medication. It was something they needed to discuss.
 

"I completely understand your feelings of anger and despair. I'm as pissed off as you are, and I'm scared." Derrick grasped Roman's shoulders and turned him around. Roman's heart jumped to his throat. "I can handle fear." He smiled slowly into Roman's eyes before looking down and focusing on stripping Roman of his pants. Roman held his breath and watched. "What I can't deal with are your attempts at hiding your emotions from me," he carried on in a lovingly scolding tone. "I'm the one who's going to wipe your ass when you're seventy and unable to take care of yourself…" He used his foot to push Roman's pants and underwear out of the way. "And you're the one who's going to be there for me." He took Roman's glasses off and placed them on top of the armoire, then he grabbed Roman's ass and fused their groins together. "That's something you ought to remember the next time you feel too embarrassed to look me in the eye."

"I'll remember," Roman breathed out roughly, wrapping his arms around Derrick's back. "I'm so sorry I overreacted…" He brushed butterfly kisses over Derrick's face. A loud groan tore from his lips at the sight of their hard cocks tightly nestled together between their stomachs. "I'll always remember," he promised because he knew he would.

He'd do anything to keep Derrick Swain in his life.

Roman had had feelings for Derrick for well over a year. He'd thought about him constantly. He'd wanted him to the point of insanity. Even though he'd stayed away from Derrick, Roman had been in love with him the entire time, but everything he'd felt back then was
nothing
compared to what Roman was feeling right now.

His heart was beating so fast he thought it might explode in his chest. His lungs didn't seem to be getting enough air. His hands were tingling from the need to touch. His brain kept whispering Derrick's name and telling Roman that this was his second chance
.

Roman had every intention of making good use of it. He was ready to take on everything at once. Starting with the therapy sessions that would help him deal with his HIV status, the treatment needed to lower his viral load, and even District Attorney Dennis Lovett.