Physical Therapy (13 page)

Eventually, when he wasn"t desperate to get laid, he"d want to look for the right guy, and I was the guy right now. It didn"t hurt so much while he was thrashing beneath my hands, fucking my mouth deeper and deeper, taking advantage of the fact that I could take him where he was determined to go.

I found the lube with one hand while I kept up a rhythm on his cock. He was making these noises, tight, strangled little moans that made me want to keep it up forever. I chanced a glance up and saw him, one hand over his eyes, one fisted in the sheet. His jaw was clenched. I wanted to touch him inside, to find his sweet spot first Physical Therapy

69

with my fingers, then with my cock. I circled the entrance I"d breached with my tongue with a delicate finger. Whatever I wanted from him, however desperately I wanted it, I had no intention of hurting him. I could take my time. As I slipped past that first tight ring of muscle, his hand moved toward my arm and he looked at me, saying nothing. I pushed farther, slickly pumping my finger in and out a few times while watching him carefully, my mouth still on his cock.

Ken"s enthusiasm flagged a little at the invasion, and I redoubled my efforts, hoping to confuse his body with pleasure and pain until they merged and blended and he transcended thought. Until his body took over and gave itself up to me. When his hips shifted and he moved against my hand, I added another finger. It wasn"t long before he was consciously surging between my fingers and my mouth, reaching for the orgasm I wasn"t allowing him to have. He gave a frustrated groan and then cried out incoherently when I added a third finger.

“Yes.” He jerked. “Hard.” He snapped his hips at me. “Mmn. More.”

“Shh,” I told him, after letting his dick go with a
pop
. I pulled my hand away from his cock and then swallowed him down completely, working him with my throat. There was nothing to stop him from coming now, and I felt it rip through him like a storm, the way his body convulsed in my hands, the sudden heat inside the latex. He was muffling his own cries, having snatched a pillow off the bed. I moved up and over him, removing my fingers. I grabbed another condom package and tore it open with my teeth.

“May I?” I asked, taking the spent condom off his cock. I tossed it on the floor next to the bed. His eyes opened wide as he perceived what I wanted. We hung there frozen, eyes locked, breath mingling, still shivering, Ken from the aftermath of orgasm and me from need. I watched his expressive face as he gauged whether he wanted me that way.

“You can trust me to make it good for you,” I breathed against his ear. “And you can tell me no and it will be all right.” I may have confused the issue a little, though, by sinking against the warmth of his body, because I"d never felt anything like the searing sweetness of his skin against mine.

He drew me to him, giving me tacit permission by sliding his hands down my sides to my hips and opening his legs to cradle me in all that heat. His hole was soft and ready but tight, and
fuck
, it felt so good to be that close to him, skin to skin all along the length of that hard body.

I fought his muscles for a minute, but I was kissing him as he lay beneath me, unquestioning and maybe a little blown away. I whispered for him to breathe for me as distress registered on his face. He fought the invasion as the head of my dick pressed against him intimately, but he bumped and rubbed his face against mine and closed his eyes. Suddenly I was swallowed up in heat and sensation. It felt like finding the safest place in the world to be during an earthquake. His body was still rippling and quivering with every slick slip and slide of mine.

So responsive.

70

Z. A. Maxfield

Something lit his eyes as they watched me, some kind of surprise maybe, or passion, as his body gave in and melted under mine, as he bloomed and accommodated me. Moved against me. He gave me everything he was made of with those eyes. I swallowed hard and let go, wanting to take him someplace we could only go like this, just once, together, for his first time. I never wanted to be more, or better, for any man.

My own orgasm was building within me, had been building since he"d let me take him with my mouth, and I reached an arm down and around his hips to hold him to me.

Suddenly I was flying—soaring—toward my release. When I slid into the bliss of it, I took him with me all the way, feeling his body clench hard and quiver against mine again as though each wave of erotic pleasure was happening to both of us in the same exact way. I couldn"t close my eyes, and we shared that as well; he watched me, his eyes going a deep purplish color that I"d only ever seen in the twilight sky back home.

I drove into him one final time and stayed, pressed as deep as I could reach within him, and we melted together like wax. He made these noises, half moaning, half begging, while I filled the latex. Despite his size, I felt absurdly tender with him, almost rocking him, cradling his body in my arms as my heated skin cooled and my dick softened and slipped from him.

He kissed me again. It was as if we couldn"t get close enough. I ditched the used condom and tucked my face into the junction of his neck and shoulder and was almost tired enough to fall asleep there.

I don"t know when I began to perceive that he was becoming restless.

“What time do you need to be home?” I asked him. It was one, or close to it.

“Probably pretty soon. They worry.” He started to push me off. “More than they did before the accident.”

“You can use the phone to reassure them.” I admit I was all about curling into his warmth and falling asleep.

“I have a phone,” he said. He pulled away, and I thought I saw the first sign of regret. “I can"t call them and tell them I"m staying out all night. Not yet. Not like this.

They have no idea…”

I caught a faint whiff of fear in the way he said that. “Ken,” I began.

“Where are my…?” He looked around.

“I"ll get them,” I told him. I went around and found his clothes. “Here.”

“I"ll need my crutches too.” He didn"t look at me. He
wouldn’t
look at me.

I went and picked them up from where he"d placed them next to the bed. I didn"t say anything either, just handed them over.

“Maybe if you called to let them know you"re on your way. Then you won"t have to rush—”

“They"re probably already asleep,” he said, not even realizing that they couldn"t be asleep and worrying at the same time. I could see he was panicking.

“Look, don"t you think we should—”

Physical Therapy

71

“I"ve been late before, they"ll understand, they just… I don"t know. They might worry more now. Since I got hurt, they baby me.”

“Ken—”

“They don"t even know I"m dating.”

“You"re dating?”

“Smart-ass.” He relaxed a minute and smiled again. “I probably should…” He looked at me. “I"m completely losing it.”

“I guessed.”

“Can I have some time?” he asked. “I"m really going to need some time.” He put his hand on the side of my face and rubbed my lower lip with his thumb. “You
look
like you just sucked me off.”

I snorted. I couldn"t help it. “Dick lips. I know.”

“If I… Are you going to be okay?”

“Sure,” I lied. “You need time, take it.”

“I"ll see you tomorrow at the gym. I have an appointment.”

“I"ll be there,” I told him. I would too. And I wouldn"t even be wearing that

“fucked and fucked over” face I used to get when guys played hit-and-run and I was too young to hide how much it pissed me off. When he was fully dressed, he used his crutches to push himself to his feet.

“Look,” he said. “I just need a little time.”

I stood next to the bed, watching as each move he made sped up. It was as though he was taxiing down a runway in order to, as the McGee poem says, “Slip the surly bond of earth.”

I allowed nothing to betray my emotions as he put his hand to the knob of the motel room door. I could wait until after he left to feel it. His back straightened for a moment, and he twisted, putting his crutch behind him so he could balance. “I guess I"ll be seeing you.”

I knew then I could have said something to keep him there. If I"d betrayed even a hint of hurt feelings, he probably would have turned around and stayed for a while. But this was his date with reality, and frankly, three would have been a crowd.

“Drive safely,” I told him. That was something I could mean with my whole heart, and I"m sure I even fabricated a smile. Like it was the “be the bigger man” Olympics and I was going for the gold.

After he left, I ground my teeth in frustration. It wasn"t exactly the end I"d planned to the evening. I watched the news for about an hour and turned the lights out. Sleep was slow in coming. Tomorrow the maids would come in, eliminating all traces of men and sex and Chinese food from the room.

Just another day in St. Nacho"s.

72

Z. A. Maxfield

Chapter Twelve

Izzie gave me a little sideways glance when I walked into Day-Use, but said nothing. Given her ability, according to my Red Hat ladies, to know when someone had been “getting some,” I kept an eye on her face for clues. Could she tell? Was I reading way too much into local rumor and speculation? I did an extra-careful scrub on the men"s locker room to keep some space between us.

The morning wore on, and my Red Hat ladies came in to work out. If I stayed in Santo Ignacio, there would be a rhythm to my days. The cops seemed to come in on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, except Andy, who stopped by more often. The

“girls,” as they called themselves, from the Red Hat Society came in on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Ken came in Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays for personal training, and he was down on my client list, a chunk of time blocked off after his hour with Izzie each time.

I was beginning to feel the heartbeat of the place; I could see the invisible ties that bound all its inhabitants together. I found out there was a good-natured rivalry between the firefighters and the police that often turned into active combat at the Labor Day picnic on the beach and the Fourth of July baseball game, but then was under strict cease-fire during the “Bears for Kids” and “Spark of Love” toy drives at Christmas.

I learned that Izzie volunteered her time at the local schools in a grassroots effort aimed at eradicating childhood obesity in Santo Ignacio, and that anyone who was hungry and couldn"t afford to pay would get a takeout meal at Yen Chin with no questions asked.

If I stayed in Santo Ignacio, these people would fold me into the batter that made up their community, asking nothing more of me than to be nice and play by the rules.

And from what I could tell, there weren"t that many of those. I was never sure, though, that it wouldn"t go all to hell when people knew about me, which is why since I had Physical Therapy

73

gotten out of rehab the second time I"d generally tried to keep one foot outside of any door.

I heard a voice behind me. “You gonna polish the vinyl off that thing, or can I use it?”
Andy
. Izzie"s boyfriend. I"d been using a Clorox wipe on the pad of a weight bench, and I"d apparently been doing it in an idle way for a while.

“Sure,” I told him. I looked around for Izzie and didn"t find her. “Do you want me to spot you?”

“Yeah, if you think you can.” He smirked. “You"re a bitty thing compared to my Izzie.”

“Yeah, well,” I murmured, standing over him as he began his presses. “That applies to everyone around here. She"s pretty strong.”

“I know. At first I found it kind of disconcerting.” I grinned. I"d dated a gym bunny or two in my day and kind of liked being crushed a little, but not everyone did, especially, I figured, by a woman. “It might take some getting used to.”

“It did,” he confided. “The first few dates I had to keep reminding myself I was armed.”

I snorted. At least he was honest and open to new things. “She"s hot, though.”

“Oh hell, yeah,” he said, doing the last of his eight reps. I helped him put the bar up. He flexed his arms while he waited between sets. “And sweet. When my first wife died, I thought maybe I"d never love anyone again.”

“I"m sorry,” I murmured automatically.

“It"s all right. Time passes.”

“You never forget, though, do you?” I said it without thinking, but it made him look at me in that cop way that made the sweat prickle under my arms.

“No. You never do.”

I looked at him as he lay there, and I felt an overwhelming urge to confess. “Can I tell you something?” I blurted.

“Mmhmm,” he assented, gripping the weight bar in his strong hands again.

“I mean, it"s something I want to tell you because I was thinking about making my home here, and it seems like unless I tell I"ll never feel right,” I nattered on as he counted his reps under his breath. “It"s not like you won"t find out if you ever have to pull me over or something…so…”

“Eight,” he puffed out, and I helped him put the weight bar up again. He gave me his full attention, saying nothing.

“I did some time in Wisconsin behind what they call an OWI felony,” I told him.

“OWI is operating while intoxicated, it"s like a DUI here—” 74

Z. A. Maxfield

“I know what it is, son,” he said. Could he have been more coplike at the moment?

Calling me son like that? All it needed was aviator shades, a rifle, and the words
spread

’em
.

“Anyway, I caused the death of a very young child while under the influence of alcohol. I served time. It"s all in my rap sheet. You might as well pass it around. I don"t want anyone to make any judgments about me without knowing all the facts.”

“Izzie was right; you need a sign,” he muttered, gripping the weight bar again.

I froze. “What?”

“Izzie told me you practically tried to talk her out of hiring you.” He panted.

“Five. You should probably stop leading with your jaw. There isn"t a cop around here who doesn"t see ordinary people do stupid things every day. There"s some really bad people, and then there"s some really decent people who make really bad decisions.” I kept my eyes on his but said nothing, holding my hands out for the bar when he was done.