Honey Red (7 page)

Nick sat, frozen, revved up, and miserable for a few minutes before he heard the conversation make its way toward him. Plates plunked down on Alyssa’s glass table, the delicious-smelling lasagna was doled out, wine poured, and he let the conversation roll around him again. He kept silent, knowing he was coming across as belligerent, but not caring. He could practically hear his therapist chiding that he would never integrate if he stayed mad at everyone around him who could still use their eyes.

Ian sat on his left, Alyssa on his right. His fork rattled when he put it on his plate. The distinct sensation of a hand on his left thigh made him jump, but he bit back the urge to pull away. “Relax,” Ian said, low and easy. Brutus shifted under the table, but Nick moved his foot, indicating the dog should back off. He could sense the animal’s unhappiness, was aware of his tension.

Nick’s cock resumed its painful exploration along the back of his zipper as he tried to sip wine, take another bite, then gave up and just put his hands on the table. He missed Dan, missed his life and everything he used to be. Nicholas Traynor had been strong, sure, loud, boisterous, and in-charge ninety-nine percent of the time. But, right now, he felt like a horny little kid—a blind, useless, handicapped horny little kid. His ears started to buzz with the onset of serious fury. Ian pressed down on his leg ever so slightly. The buzzing receded. Nick turned his face to the left. The dog leapt up then, shoving his body between the two men again, his low rumble sending an ominous and unmistakable message.

“Shit,” Ian said, taking his hand off Nick’s leg. Nick tried not to beg him to put it back. The calm he’d felt for a split second at the other man’s touch, he wanted back.

Nick shoved the dog back under the table with a curse and a warning, but the moment was broken. Alyssa cleared her throat. Nick picked up his wine glass, and the conversation that he no longer heard or contributed to resumed.

The table was cleared. Everyone except Nick had another glass of wine, and he sensed a distinct shift in the atmosphere. His headache was back in its full glory. He pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers, willing it away. He heard traffic, kids playing, early onset of crickets, the earth rolling on its axis, every god damned sound in the entire universe pressed onto his eardrums. That was nothing compared to the scent which screamed “Ian” that had settled into his psyche, nice and cozy and annoying. The malty warmth, slightly astringent tang of him made Nick want to lean over and run his tongue down the man’s neck. He clenched his fists on his knees.
Jesus, Traynor, get a grip
.

“Okay, we’re gonna be late, babe, let’s hit it.” Gavin’s voice broke through the cacophony of noises boring a hole in Nick’s brain. His neck tensed again and his shoulders crept up around his ears.

Alyssa knelt down beside him, took his hand. “We’re going to a movie. You okay here with Ian?” she whispered. He nodded, but he was very much not sure that he would be. The dog whimpered.

“Later brother,” Gavin called out. “Talk soon, Nick. Good luck next week with the new job.”

Ian walked into the house with the couple, leaving Nick alone with his swirling thoughts and pounding skull. Brutus repositioned to Nick’s left between him and the chair Ian had just vacated. He put his huge head on Nick’s hand. “Dude,” Nick said softly. “I think I just figured out why you’re upset. And let me tell you now, it’s okay. I’m okay. I’m … agitated, but it’s normal.” He rubbed the dog’s ears, then leaned back and stretched his legs out in front of him, relieving the pressure building once more under his jeans.

He heard Ian rummaging around in the kitchen, opening and closing the fridge. Nick took a long, deep breath and made a decision. He smiled when Ian pressed the cold water bottle to his shoulder and took it, but then set it on the table that he knew was to his front right. His mind kept roiling, but he kept a lid on his urge to suck in a breath when he sensed Ian pulling a chair up on his other side, avoiding the guard dog. “I don’t think he likes me,” the man declared.

Nick put a hand on Ian’s leg. He heard the other man’s breath hitch, and would swear on a stack of procedure manuals he heard his heartbeat increase.
Don’t be ridiculous, you can’t hear a heartbeat.
He smiled, and leaned back, leaving his fingers trailing along the denim covering Ian’s thigh. “Oh, he’s fine, but I think I figured out how in tune to me he actually is.”

“Oh?” Ian touched his fingers, brushed the back of Nick’s hand once, then again, making him shiver.

“Yeah, I think he senses how fucking horny I am. Since he has no frame of reference for it, it’s making him nervous, protective.”

“Wow,” Ian leaned over and Nick could feel the other man’s lips near his throat. “Impressive,” he said, putting his hand over Nick’s erection.

“Yeah,” Nick croaked out, suddenly nervous. “So, I’m typically not….”

“Shh….” Ian’s hand left his cock, made its way up his torso, and wound around the back of his neck. “You are pretty amazing.”

“No, not really. Just blind. Without a real job. Living in my sister’s house.”

“But you look damn good doing all that, trust me.”

“You make a point of seducing blind guys you just met?”

“I didn’t just meet you. I remember you from a few months…before.”

Nick shivered again. This whole thing was somehow right and wrong at the same time. He needed a physical connection, bad, but was unsure if it should be with Ian Donovan. This, of course coming from his now humming and thankfully pain-free brain while his body screeched at him to grab the guy and kiss him.

Nick sighed when Ian’s fingers twined in his newly grown hair. He hadn’t had hair this long in over ten years. He’d forgotten what color it was. He sighed, raised his face to the cooling night breeze when Ian’s lips found his jaw and made their slow way down his neck, then up. “You are…very attractive.” Ian’s words curled in and around Nick’s amped up libido. He ground his teeth, trying to distract his body from what was obviously happening.

He gasped when Ian slid his zipper down slowly then reached in to grab his aching flesh. “Jesus, man, I won’t last long, It’s…been a while.” His head had cleared, his neck no longer hurt and he felt the familiar, pleasant rush of lust wash through him. “I need this…but that’s all though, you know? I’m in no position to start a relationship or anything.” He gulped, felt his throat closing up and his eyes begin to water. “We clear on that?”

“It’s clear. I don’t need anything more from you…yet…but, I think we could both use a nice hard fuck.” Ian whispered against his neck. “I want you…to relax, Nicholas.”

Nick groaned and leaned back, giving into the amazing sensation of Ian’s hand then his lips and tongue up and down his shaft, letting the man’s earlier firm words and no-nonsense commands soothe him. He reached out and threaded his fingers in Ian’s hair. His first thought—that he wished he could watch—was drowned out by the exquisite sensation of suction and the caress. It was even, somehow, better, this dark place where all he knew was lips and hands on his battered and neglected body.

Ian’s lips slid up and off him. Nick smelled the desire between them like a living, breathing thing. “Let’s go inside.” Nick gripped the chair arms as the man forced his tongue between Nick’s lips, swept into his mouth. He tasted so good, sounded so sweet and sexy—those low noises he made in his throat were maddening and amazing. Nick’s cock twitched against his belly, as Ian pulled him to his feet, never releasing his lips.

The two men stood, arms entangled, teeth clicking together with urgency as they stumbled inside. “I don’t need your mercy fuck,” Nick gasped, angry now, on top of the raging lust that was taking over his brain.

“This is no mercy fuck, I assure you. But it will be a good one, if you would just relax and let it happen.” Ian’s low, rumbling voice filled Nick’s ears, making him sigh with pleasure. “I’m a top. That work for you?” Ian grunted when Nick yanked his shirt up and off, popped his jeans button and unzipped him releasing a long, rock hard cock to Nick’s eager hand.

“I cannot imagine,” Nick said as he slid his hand up and down the man’s sex. “Anything better than having this inside me, right now.” And there were no truer words at that moment than the ones he’d said—he wanted Ian Donovan inside him. Everything about the man compelled Nick to open up, to give, let him take what he wanted.

“Uh, I don’t have any…,” Ian hesitated. Nick smiled and felt the dog bump up against his leg.

“Check Alyssa’s room, left side top drawer. She and your brother have been staying here some, and they sometimes forget I can still hear.” Ian drew a finger down Nick’s face, cupped his chin and pressed a soft kiss to his lips before walking away in search of a condom. Nick sat, his hand on his own cock, wondering how in the hell he’d gone from friendly dinner with this man to wanting to fuck so bad he could taste the need on the tip of his tongue. The dog whined, but Nick leaned up, grabbed the creature by the scruff. “Back off. Go lay down. I’m fine, get it?”

Brutus shoved his nose under Nick’s hand once, then sighed and padded away. Ian was in front of him, pulling him up, and tugging off his dark glasses. Nick panicked, grabbed the man’s hands, unwilling for him to see the undoubtedly horrible mess of his ruined eyes.

“Let go,” Ian sighed into his neck. “Nick, I am not going to have sex with you if you’re wearing these things.”

Nick’s breath seemed to catch in his throat. He couldn’t do it. This was…wrong. Ian kept whispering to him, and finally the glasses dropped to the floor. Nick wrapped his arms around Ian’s neck, kissed him and pressed his needy sex against the other man’s, loving the roll and press of warm, hard flesh against his own. Music hit his ear, coming from the next-door neighbor no doubt. Nick let Ian run his lips and hands all over him. The sensation was exquisite, painful, fantastic and horrible all at once. A different darkness started to descend, more intense than the one he’d lived with for over a year. It was accompanied by panic, as a fight-or-flight reaction kicked in when Ian dropped to his knees and deep throated Nick’s cock once more. He gripped Ian’s hair, thrust his hips, and fucked the man’s mouth until he couldn’t wait another second. “Now, Ian.”

Ian got to his feet, flipped Nick around and bent him over the back of the couch. Lube oozed across Nick’s ass, as Ian positioned himself. “I am gonna fuck you, baby,” he muttered, reaching around to grip Nick’s quivering cock. He used his lubricated palm to caress, slowly teasing, as he slid into Nick’s ass breaching the tight muscle ring with a single thrust and reaching high, stroking his gland as he gripped his head, hard.  “You go first,” he grunted, pressing deep and giving Nick’s cock a quick jerk of his hand.

Nick cried out, grabbed the back of the couch and arched his back, letting go as Ian whispered to him and gripped his hips. His entire body seemed to flex with it, to convulse and spasm so hard he yelled out, not even realizing what he said as he kept coming so much he nearly fell as Ian pounded into him.  “Yes,” the man hissed, “That’s it.” He sighed and collapsed over Nick’s back, holding him close, their sweat slicking their torsos, filling Nick’s nose with an erotic combination of man and lust.

He shivered, put his hand against his bare eyes, and the unwelcome panic returned, settled in his gut. As if sensing it, Ian slid out of him stood and handed him his glasses without a word. Nick shook all over as he tried to put them back on. He heard all the noises again, after the blessed relief of silence for the last few minutes. Ian took his hand, led him around to the front of the couch where he fell down as if suddenly boneless. Ian sat next to him, took him in his arms, kissed his forehead, cheeks, lips. Nick’s teeth chattered and he started to resist. “Stop it,” Ian said into his hair. “Relax.” He commanded for what felt like the fifth time that night. And Nick did, falling into a near immediate sleep while Ian whispered to him and held him close.

Chapter Eight

Hannah

Hannah hated hanging around the EMU placement office as much as she had been recently. It made her feel like such a colossal loser. Of course, most things did these days. Here she was with a shiny, sought after MBA in hand, with honors, for the last six months and she still worked in a day care and ran the gauntlet of avoiding creditor calls every day. Hell, one of them was practically her best buddy, and they all were sympathetic to her plight, even encouraging, but they needed to get paid.

She blew out a breath and studied the virtual jobs bulletin board again, tucking a lock of curly red hair behind her ear and willing someone to hire her. After an hour of collecting yet more leads and jotting down endless lists of new LinkedIn contacts she leaned back, pressing fingers to her forehead. Her stomach rumbled, her eyelid twitched as she checked her phone for the elusive call from one of the hundreds of resumes she’d sent and nearly as many interviews she’d endured. Nothing.