Smoky Mountain Dreams (58 page)

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Authors: Leta Blake

Tags: #FICTION / Gay

BOOK: Smoky Mountain Dreams
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“Not gonna fuck you,” Christopher muttered. He felt Jesse’s
body tense. “Don’t argue about that, okay? Just do what I say.”

Jesse grinned and nodded. “Aye, aye, cap’n.”

Christopher wanted to feel skin on skin, and pain and
pleasure, and he wanted to feel it now. He grabbed lube and a condom from the
side table. He didn’t want to think about anything—he just wanted to live with
Jesse in the here and now, at least for a little while.

Kissing Jesse took his mind back to where he wanted it to
be—hot, slick, good, and sweet. He tore open the condom as he slid into Jesse’s
arms, licking into his mouth. Jesse’s hands guided him as he slid the condom on
Jesse’s cock.

Without any preamble, Christopher pulled out of the kiss and
straddled Jesse’s hips. He jerked his own cock a few times, shuddering with
pleasure, and then he slicked Jesse’s dick and smeared lube against his own
hole.

Jesse put his hands up over his head, crossing them in an
obvious version of surrender. Christopher loved him a little more for it. He
slid one hand up to Jesse’s throat, holding it there gently. It was a little
awkward at first, but he gripped Jesse’s cock with his slicked up hand and
pushed back and down, forcing Jesse in, groaning as his thickness pushed past
his sphincter and a burning shiver rippled through his body.

Jesse’s eyes glowed in the moonlight. “It’s gonna be like
this tonight?” His voice was gravelly and Christopher almost had to lean forward
to hear it.

“I need it.”

Jesse licked his lips and brought one hand down to where
Christopher held his neck. He pushed Christopher’s palm harder against his
throat. “Take it then. Go on.”

Christopher groaned, flexing his fingers slightly—enough to
feel like he was holding Jesse in place by his grip, but not enough to actually
cut off his breath—and rode him hard and fast. The perfect counterpoint of his
dick slapping against Jesse’s stomach and bouncing up to hit is own, and the
thick, fat rod of Jesse’s cock slamming in and out of him, past his prostate,
sent shuddering pleasure up his spine and through his limbs.

“Yeah, babe, yeah,” Jesse egged him on, and Christopher went
harder and faster, gyrating his hips and closing his eyes, taking his pleasure
like it was something Jesse owed him. Jesse’s fingers tightened even more
against Christopher’s on his throat, and Christopher ripped his hand away,
gripping Jesse’s hair in both hands instead, coming down to take his mouth in a
hard, desperate kiss. Jesse raised his arms back over his head, gripping the
headboard.

“That’s it,” Jesse groaned. “You’re gonna make me come,
Chris.”

Christopher whimpered, not close enough to orgasm himself,
but he didn’t want to slow down. He rode harder, faster, his cock aching and
not getting enough friction, but he didn’t want to release his grip on Jesse’s
hair. He wanted to kiss Jesse’s mouth, his ears, his neck. He wanted to bite
his shoulders and earlobes and lick his eyebrows and the divot over his upper
lip.

“Coming…now.” Jesse grunted, and his hips slammed up into
Christopher, his hands flying down and grabbing Christopher’s hips to hold him
steady and still as his cock thudded deep in Christopher’s body.

“God!” Jesse cried before pressing his lips together, his
body quivering and shaking, his legs twitching on the bed.

Christopher watched him come, loving the way his face
twisted up and enjoying the muscle spasms of his stomach and thighs as he
pumped his load. It was almost enough to come too, but not quite.

He pulled off Jesse and crawled up to press his cock against
Jesse’s panting mouth. Glassy-eyed and still shivering, Jesse sat up against
the headboard, and opened up to take him in, his fingers going immediately to
Christopher’s asshole and sliding inside, setting up a fast finger fuck that
made Christopher’s thighs quiver and his blood rush in his ears.

“Yeah,” Christopher whispered. “That’s what I want.” He slid
his hand behind Jesse’s neck and lifted, tilting his head back to a slightly
better angle. He fucked into his mouth, feeling the clutch and gag as he went
too deep, too fast.

After a few desperate thrusts, he stilled, pushing his ass
back onto Jesse’s fingers, letting him push against his prostate until his cock
exploded over Jesse’s tongue and filled his mouth. Christopher shuddered,
leaning forward to clutch the headboard with his free hand and gripping the
back of Jesse’s neck with his other.

“Oh fuck,” Christopher whispered, a heady rush of pleasure
shaking him as his orgasm whited-out his brain for a long, glorious moment.

When he pulled his spent cock from Jesse’s beautiful mouth,
and as he fell beside him on the bed, the horrible sadness and anger he’d tried
to fuck away seemed to chase the orgasm out of his body, and he burst into hot,
horrible tears against Jesse’s shoulder.

“Shh,” Jesse soothed, rubbing his back. “It’s gonna be okay,
babe. I love you. And I know it hurts now, but I swear it’s gonna be okay.”

Christopher didn’t know how it could be when Gran was gone
and his family was a horror movie or a ridiculous, nasty farce, but he wanted
to believe it was true. As he curled up naked against Jesse, their bodies slick
with sex, he cried with grief, pain, and humiliation, holding onto Jesse and
his promises like a lifeboat.

“We need to talk about Marcy,” Jesse said, hoping he
didn’t sound like he was as nervous as he felt. This was the real reason he’d
dropped the kids off with Amanda so that he and Christopher could eat breakfast
alone.

Christopher looked up from the chocolate chip pancakes he’d
been devouring, and then glanced around the Cracker Barrel dining room. “We do?”

“I owe you a massive apology for saying the things I did to
you. It was inexcusable. Saying you weren’t family was the worst of it.”

“You want to talk about this here? Besides, you already
apologized.”

“We still need to talk about it more. I put it off all
weekend because I’m scared of what you’ll say if I remind you of it.”

Christopher laughed in obvious disbelief. “What, you thought
I’d forgotten what an asshole you were in the haze of my sadness over Gran or
something?”

“Maybe I’d hoped you had?”

Christopher shrugged. “Nope. No such luck. But we all say
stuff when we’re angry. Or when we’re scared. And I know how protective you are
of her.”

“It’s no excuse.”

“No, maybe not. But the truth is I had no business being
there. We both know that.”

“You did. As a performer.
And
as
my boyfriend.”

“Maybe. But I didn’t have permission.”

“You do now. I want you in my life and that means being in
her life too.” Jesse cleared his throat before saying the hardest part. “Well,
unless I…let her go.”

Christopher tilted his head. “What do you mean? I thought it
was her sister who wanted to keep her this way?”

“It is. I mean, I could stop visiting every week. Leave her
care up to Tim and Nova.” Jesse hesitated. “I can do that if you want. If it’s
between continuing to take care of Marcy and having this with you, I choose
you.”

Christopher blinked a little, and took another bite of
pancakes, chewing slowly and swallowing. “What kind of asshole would it make me
if I asked you do that?” he finally said.

“An honest one? I wouldn’t want to share you with someone
else. Not some past lover, and I understand—”

Christopher held out his hand. “She’s Brigid and Will’s mom.
She’s your wife. I can’t…I won’t ever ask you to walk away from what you think
you owe her. If it was me…” He looked away and shuddered, and Jesse knew he was
remembering what he’d seen in Marcy’s room. “I guess if it was me, I’d want you
to move on and not come see me anymore. Because I wouldn’t want you to remember
me like that. I’d want you to remember me the way I am now.”

Shoving aside the grip of unreasonable fear that the man he’d
allowed himself to love might ever end up like Marcy, Jesse assured him, “Christopher,
I couldn’t ever abandon you.”

“I’d want you to, though.” Christopher smiled sadly. “But
she’s not me and I don’t know what she would have wanted. All I know is what
you want and I honor that. I respect it.”

Jesse cleared his throat. He knew that Marcy would be like
Christopher. She wouldn’t want him to spend as much time as he did at the
nursing home. Would she want him to fight for her to be disconnected? Maybe.
But she wouldn’t want him visiting her empty body.

“So, let that go, Jesse. I guess it was good that I saw what
a massive dick you can be when you’re feeling threatened. It showed me what I
can expect if someone ever tries to hurt me or the kids.” He grinned. “You’re a
shithead when you go into mama bear mode.”

Jesse snorted. “I’m just a shithead period.”

“No, not really. Only when you’re protecting someone you love.”

Jesse sighed and poured more syrup on his bacon. He took up
a sweet, savory piece and bit into it.

“I don’t really want to talk about this anymore,”
Christopher said. “It’s over and in the past. I just want to move forward with
you.”

“I don’t deserve your forgiveness—”

“Screw that. I want to give it to you.”

“Not so fast. I didn’t finish. I was going to say I don’t
deserve it, but I’ll take it all the same.”

“Good.” Christopher smiled, his green eyes glowing softly. “Life’s
too short to waste it arguing about whether or not you’re sorry enough for
something I damn well know you’re sorry for.” He shrugged. “Let’s talk about
something that’s an actual emergency.”

Jesse raised his eyebrows. “Your family?”

Christopher scoffed. “Very funny. That’s a disaster, not an
emergency. I was thinking more along the lines of what I’m going to get you for
Christmas. It’s in three days and I’m woefully unprepared. The kids, I’ve got
covered, but you? I have no idea.”

“Don’t buy me anything. The only thing I need is you.”

“But you got me something.”

Jesse shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

“I know you did.”

“Who cares? Don’t waste your money on buying me things. All
I want is you in my bed on Christmas night and I’ll consider it the best gift I’ve
ever had.”

“Jesse Birch, who knew you were such a sap? Here, want to
try my pancakes?”

Jesse waggled his eyebrows. “I sure do.”

They laughed and shared their breakfasts, and Jesse knew
that Christopher’s generosity and forgiveness was his true Christmas present.

The nursing home was not where Jesse had thought they’d
be spending their first Christmas Day together. Christopher placed the
poinsettia on the tray where the nurses could see it from their station, while
Brigid lingered at the door, obviously afraid to come inside.

“You don’t have to do this, B,” Jesse murmured. “We can leave.”

Brigid shook her head firmly, setting her lips in a line. “I
want it to be here. You promised.”

“And your dad’s not going back on his promise, Brigid,”
Christopher said quietly. “He just wants to make sure that you’re really ready
for this. Remember we told you that she doesn’t look like she does in the
pictures and videos anymore. It can be hard to see that.”

Brigid shuddered. She looked down at the piece of gold paper
she’d brought in from the car. She’d cut wrapping paper into the shape she
needed and then brought it to Jesse after breakfast, saying, “Daddy, I’m ready
to make the last crane.”

As it turned out, it’d been a bit more complicated than
that. She wanted to make the crane at Marcy’s bedside so that she’d see for
herself if her wish came true. Jesse had tried to dissuade her, but Christopher
had reminded him that they’d promised to do it however and wherever she wanted,
and it was important that they keep that promise.

They’d discussed whether or not all two thousand cranes had
to be present, and Brigid had decided that the power of the cranes lay in the
making of them, not where each crane was when the wish was made. And so they’d
traveled together, a new family of four, down from Gatlinburg to Sevierville,
and walked into the facility together, Jesse gripping his children’s hands. The
staff had blinked in surprise at Christopher’s presence, but had only wished
them all a merry Christmas.

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