Starting with the Unexpected (13 page)

“Your mother may have left the car running, but that doesn’t mean you had to find out what would happen if you put it in drive,” Dad said sagely.

“I didn’t,” I protested. “I put it in neutral first. When I realized the car was rolling backward, I put it back into park.”

“Then how did you end up hitting a freezer?” Marcus asked. He looked like he was trying not to laugh, and I made a mental note to get even later.

“Well, I figured I’d better put the car back where it had been. How was I supposed to know putting it in drive would make it leap forward like that?”

Marcus burst into laughter, and I scowled at him. There was definitely going to be revenge involved at some point in the near future.

“Oh, it got better,” Brandon volunteered from where he was helping Jordan put another piece of furniture together. “He started wailing about how Mom and I should just kill him right then.
When Mom said she had to go call Dad and tell him what
happened, he started screaming not to do that, because Dad was going to murder him.”

“I. Was. Five.” I repeated slowly. Marcus had to make an effort to not fall over, he was laughing so hard. “And Dad had me convinced he was scary. It took a few years before I realized that he was just a big teddy bear.”

“I don’t know, I could have happily throttled you that day,” my father admitted cheerfully. “Not only did I have to get the car fixed, I had to buy your mother a new freezer. If I hadn’t known you better, I would have sworn she put you up to it just for that.”

“I’ll never tell,” I countered with a grin.

“Do you see what I have to put up with?” Dad asked Marcus with a heavy sigh.

“I’ve noticed that people who have to deal with him say that a lot,” Marcus noted. “I’m starting to wonder if I should be worried.”

“If it’ll make you feel any better, I’ll go be useful and start a pot of coffee,” I told them, hoisting myself up from the floor. I suppose I could have started putting together a chair or something, but there was a better chance that it wouldn’t wobble or have missing pieces if I let someone else handle that.

“How do you even know how to make coffee if you hate it so much?” Marcus asked as I started washing out the brand-new pot.

“Because he’s a suck-up,” Brandon said immediately. I turned to glare at him, but stopped when I saw that he was actually teasing. He was actually joking with me like he used to.

I turned back around, not wanting anyone to see the tears in my eyes, and shrugged. “Just because Dad likes my coffee better….”

“Terry’s the only one in the immediate family who likes it,” Jordan explained to Marcus. “Speaking of which, is there any tea up here?”

“Tea and hot chocolate,” I said. “I made the assumption I’d be up here occasionally when I picked up groceries.”

“You assumed correctly,” Marcus said. “At least, I think you did.”

I grinned at him over my shoulder, then set to getting a pot of coffee going. Once it was bubbling along, I washed the few mugs Marcus and I had picked up while we were out shopping for household items. How he’d managed to survive without dishes that weren’t disposable was beyond me, but to each their own. Once that was done, I started some water for Jordan’s tea. At least this way, I felt like I was pitching in somehow.

By the time I started handing over cups of tea and coffee, the bed frame had been assembled and the next piece of furniture begun. I watched for a moment and let out a sigh. “I’m useless here,” I said. “I’ll go set the table in the house or something so we can eat once the biscuits are done.”

“Biscuits?” Jordan asked, perking. “She made breakfast.”

I nodded and laughed when he raised his arms in a sign of victory. “Who knew breakfast for lunch could make one person so happy?”

“Pot, kettle,” Jordan snorted.

“Focus, guys,” Marcus said. “The sooner we get this all put together, the better.” He glanced up at me then and gave me a wicked look that immediately heated my blood. “I have plans this afternoon.”

Right. Plans. Thank God it was my father in charge of putting the bed frame together, because the stability tests we were going to put it through would be pretty rigorous. At least this way I could be fairly certain that the thing had been put together well enough that it wouldn’t collapse under us.

Unfortunately by the time we’d eaten, finished putting together the furniture, moved it where Marcus wanted it, cleaned up, and stood at the door waving as everyone left, I’d reached my limits of wakefulness. Sometimes I hated the fact that I worked odd hours.

“You look like you’re about to collapse,” Marcus noted as Jordan left to head back into the house.

“I’m pretty tired,” I admitted regretfully. “Are you working tonight?”

“No, I called in. I told Gloria what was going on, and she told me to take today to get settled in the new place. She also giggled a lot when I mentioned where the new place was.”

I snorted. Yeah, I’d just bet she had. The crafty woman had been trying to set me up with someone for ages. Instead of telling him that, though, I dropped onto one of the two kitchen chairs he’d picked up. “Well then, since you’re not going to work….” I let the words trail off, but the leer on my face made my intent clear.

Marcus rolled his eyes. “Right, because I want my boyfriend to start snoring while he’s fucking me through the mattress.”

Dammit. “But….”

Marcus put a hand over my mouth, effectively shutting me up. “You’re going to bed,” he said, and he glared at me. “To sleep.”

“But….” I didn’t want to go back to my room. I wanted to stay there with him.

Marcus pointed at his bed, still glaring at me. “Now.”

Oh, well, that was different. Here I thought he’d been trying to shoo me back to my own bedroom, but curling up in Marcus’s bed? Yeah, I could live with that and then some. I gave him what I hoped was an adorable grin and not a leer and began to strip as I crossed the room to his bed. “You’re going to join me, right?”

“Maybe,” he said cautiously. “Are you going to molest me instead of sleep?”

I pulled back the covers and took a deep breath, enjoying the smell of freshly laundered bedding. I would have just thrown it on the bed, but my mom had said something about me being a slob before she dumped all the bedding in the washer. I was kind of glad she had, since the smell of the vinyl it had been encased in was gone. Smelled like home. “Not until after I’ve gotten some sleep,” I finally said, realizing I’d gotten distracted from answering Marcus’s question. “Because, seriously I’m about to pass out.” I reached over and held up the blanket on the empty side of the bed. “Come on. The sheets are clean and everything.”

“I can’t believe you were going to put those on my bed without washing them first,” Marcus grumbled as he pulled off his shirt. “That’s gross. Who knows how many people have handled them.”

“Whatever you say, Mom,” I snorted at him.

“Shut up,” Marcus laughed. “Go to sleep.”

I let out a sigh of contentment when I felt him curl up against me, and then I was out like a light.

When I woke up that night, I didn’t meet it with the same sigh. I met it moaning something along the lines of “oh my fucking God your mouth.” As in Marcus’s mouth. Marcus’s mouth and my dangly bits, which were substantially less dangly at that point. As the saying goes, I could have pounded nails with it.

Except, you know, that would hurt. A lot. Not that I’d know from experience, mind you. My sanity may be questionable at times, but I’m not stupid.

Marcus stared up at me, his innocent look completely
destroyed by the fact that his lips were wrapped around my cock. It was a beautiful thing to behold. “That’s a hell of a wake-up call,” I said, my voice a little hoarse with sleep and want. I needed to touch him, so I reached down and ran my fingers through his hair.

He let me go with a wet pop and grinned. “Yeah, well, you were too exhausted to help me test the structural integrity of the bed before you passed out. That’s two days we’ve had to put plans on hold, and I got tired of waiting for you to wake up.”

“It was worth it to get you taken care of,” I told him, patting his cheek.

“Maybe,” Marcus hedged. “But I still need some taking care of here. Where do you want me?”

It took me a minute to get what he was asking me—my brain was still in half-sleep, half oh-my-god mode—but when I figured it out, I grinned. “I’m the one on my back. Why are you asking me?”

“No preference?” Marcus asked, looking surprised. It made me wonder what he expected me to say. Maybe we should have had that conversation earlier, but it was too late to worry about it.

“Nope,” I answered. “I enjoy being on either side of the equation. Do we need to flip a coin to decide?”

He crawled up my body slowly and pressed a gentle kiss against my lips. It seemed almost out of place, considering where his mouth had been, but the tenderness of the act melted me. “No,” he said softly. “I’m just surprised. I thought….” He shrugged and gave me a sheepish look. “It doesn’t matter what I thought. How do you feel about staying where you are?”

“I already told you, I’m fine with just about anything.” I gave the tip of his nose a quick kiss and grinned. “I only hope you have supplies.”

Marcus leaned over at an awkward angle to reach the nightstand’s drawer. “No, of course not,” he said, the smirk on his face reflected heavily in his tone. “I mean, it’s not like I haven’t been eagerly anticipating this for weeks.”

The condom packet he tossed at me landed on my face before I could grab it, and I laughed as I brushed it off my forehead. “Wow. Someone’s feeling cheeky today. I like it.”

“Yeah?” Marcus asked, looking pleased as he settled himself over me again. “Some would say it’s annoying.”

I had a feeling that “some” meant “Davis” but I wasn’t going to invite memories of that asshat into the occasion. “Well, some people are idiots,” I answered instead. “And I’d like to think I’m not an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot,” Marcus said fondly, opening the tube of lube he’d retrieved from the nightstand and slicking his fingers. “You’ve got the most intelligent posterior of any guy I’ve ever known.”

I gave him a look of complete disbelief as he settled himself between my thighs. “Did you seriously just call me a smartass?”

Slippery fingers found my crease, and I was suddenly too busy moaning to care what he called me. He probably could have called me Bunny Foo-Foo at that point, and I wouldn’t have protested. I would have gotten even later, but I wouldn’t have protested.

I had also been anticipating this situation for weeks. I’d practically worn out my right hand thinking about it, and having his fingers sliding inside me felt like some sort of miracle. He took his time and moved slowly, as if memorizing the feel of me. I’d lost the capacity for rational thought by the time he fit a third finger in my hole.

I let out a choked half sob at the feelings that welled up in me, overwhelming my senses, and he immediately stopped moving. “Are you okay?”

I nodded, reaching out to grab his shoulders and tug him closer. “Want you,” I keened. “Please.”

Marcus watched me for a long moment before his fingers slid out of me, making me moan at the loss. “You’ve got me,” he promised. He leaned up to grab the condom he’d thrown at me earlier. “I’m not going anywhere.”

I nodded again, hoping he understood that I’d picked up on the promise behind his words. When his lips slid over mine, I figured he knew that I understood, and I closed my eyes with a sigh.

He was just as careful when it was his cock and not his fingers pushing into me. In fact, I’m sure I yelled that he needed to “stop with the goddamned stopping,” because he’d freeze in place every time I so much as twitched. It was sweet, but it wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted him in me, and I wanted to feel him there for the next week, so I felt more than a little relief when he got the message and sheathed himself fully inside me.

I was pretty sure I saw God. I was also pretty sure I saw him give me a thumbs-up and a wink, but then I heard Marcus moaning, and I was brought back to reality. “Ollie,” he gasped. “My Ollie.”

“Yours,” I rasped. “Move, gorgeous. I want to feel you move.”

He moved. Oh God, he moved, and it was pure poetry. He knew just what angle to take to ping my prostate, and after he’d done it enough times, I wondered if it was possible to die from the pleasure. When I felt his hand wrap around my cock and tug, I was no longer wondering. I was definitely going to die from the pleasure.

“Please,” he grunted. “I’m so close, but you first.”

I could understand that. I’d feel the same way, if I were in his position. “Tighter,” I gasped. When his grip on me tightened, it sent me over the edge like a barrel over Niagara Falls. I screamed out Marcus’s name and shot hard, my back arching up from the bed. I could feel my muscles clench around Marcus’s shaft, and he plunged into me once, then twice more, and then he threw his head back with an expression that would have had me coming again, if it were possible.

Just like the previously mentioned barrel, I shattered when I reached the bottom, but not in a bad way. I couldn’t even move as Marcus carefully pulled out of me and discarded the condom. I had no idea where it landed, but I didn’t care. It was his apartment, and he’d be the one trying to clean dried spooge out of the carpet later.

He landed on his side next to me and pulled me close, and we stayed in silence like that for a long time. When he finally broke the silence, it was to say “That was….”

The words trailed off, like he had no idea how to finish the thought. Luckily for him, I did. “Perfect,” I whispered. “That was perfect.”

A
PRIL
CAME
in like a lamb, not a lion, and that made me nervous as hell. That wasn’t to say things weren’t going swimmingly. On the contrary. Things were fantastic. Marcus and I spent most of our free time together, both with and without Jordan, though we still remembered to take time for ourselves. We agreed it was important to have occasional alone time. That was probably the reason we hadn’t yet gotten into an argument, though we both knew that would happen eventually. Things were going so well that something had to go wrong at some point, and we were only human, after all. This was something I proved by forgetting about Valentine’s Day until the last minute, when February fourteenth rolled around. It could have turned out really badly, except Marcus forgot about it too. We went out to dinner the day after, instead, and didn’t have to fight the crowds. Then we decided we’d do the same thing every year following, like it was a given that we’d be together on a permanent basis.