The Right Words (25 page)

“No laughing. I’m dying here,” he mumbled in a mock-grumpy voice. He hopped on one foot in an attempt to rid himself of his shoes, making me giggle at his silliness. My heart felt too big for my chest at the sudden bolt of recognition that I was in so much deeper than I thought. He was under my skin. I caught his searching gaze as he stepped back between my legs. My eyes wandered up and down his glorious body before I dared look at him. When I finally met his intense stare, I gulped audibly. He looked so dangerous. So beautifully wicked.

He leaned in to press a chaste kiss on my lips and took hold of my cock before lowering himself to lightly kiss the head of my drooling dick. I swallowed hard and watched my lover carefully lap up the precum in a swirling, sweet roll of his tongue. Then he licked down one side and up the other in the same deliberately gentle manner.

“More, Michael.”

My hips shot forward as he swallowed me whole, taking my shaft into his hot mouth in a tight sucking motion that made my toes curl and my legs fly open. Michael softly chuckled at my reaction but thankfully he didn’t stop. He kept up a steady rhythm licking and stroking me with the perfect amount of pressure.

“Lick my fingers.”

I blinked at the request but obeyed.

“More than that, Lukey.”

I tried again and heard his grunt of approval just as he set his wet digit at my hole. I tensed instinctively.

“It’s okay, honey. Open up for me.”

I licked my lips and concentrated on relaxing as I spread my legs wide and watched Michael work one finger in my hole while he muttered soft words of reassurance mixed with the perfect amount of dirty talk. I groaned when the sensation moved from being intrusive to delicious.

“That’s it, baby. I want to get you good and ready for my dick. I can’t wait to be buried deep inside you. Fuck you so hard.” He added his own saliva and a second finger, making me squirm in a funny mix of discomfort and the promise of ecstasy.

When he lowered his head to cover my cock again, I pulled at his longish hair. Hard.

“No more. Stop. I’m gonna cum if you don’t stop.”

Michael released me with a noisy
pop
as he stood.

“I have to be inside you. Now. Okay?”

I nodded earnestly, too overcome to speak. Michael stepped aside to grab supplies from the nightstand a few feet away. His wolfish grin made me snicker when he held up a condom and a small bottle of lube.

He quickly rolled the latex over his rigid member and poured a generous amount of lube over himself and me. I sat with my legs splayed wide, watching the porn-like show he was staging while preparing us. If I could have talked, I’d suggest we move to the bed, but I was too far gone. And obviously so was Michael.

“Hey. Eyes open,
cariño
. I want to watch you.” His tone was soft and beguiling as he stepped between my thighs and wordlessly guided me to sit even farther on the edge while assuring me he’d hold me. I used my upper arms to lift my ass slightly and help him line his dick up with my entrance. We both sighed as he breached my body. I clutched at his shoulder with one arm and kept the other behind me to help support my weight.

Michael angled his hips and pushed up farther inside me. I groaned and let my body adjust before I pushed down, allowing him deeper access. Michael pushed a little harder and then again until he was buried as far as he could go. We held on to one another for a moment, and then he began to move. Slow and steady. A languid, deliberate pace that required equal participation as we came together in a rhythmic meeting of hips. My skin tingled as I arched forward, trying to get more of him inside me at each pass. His stroke was deep and then shallow as though he were teasing me and waiting for me to beg for more.

“Harder, Michael. Do it harder.”

“Fuck yes.”

Michael savagely gripped my hips, forcing me to sit up and wrap my arms around him or fall. He supported my weight in a tight hold around my waist as he fucked me while standing. I curled my legs around his ass and changed the angle slightly. He moaned and walked with me impaled on his cock toward the bed. Michael laughed as I clutched at his shoulders like a monkey clinging to a tree.

“Bend over.” He slapped my ass hard and carefully disengaged our sweat-slicked bodies.

I hesitated for a second, which earned me an equally hard smack on the opposite cheek. I turned around to give him a dirty look but ended up wearing a satisfied grin instead at the sight of this powerful man practically vibrating with need… for me. If spanking my ass got him that excited, I didn’t think I minded one little bit. I hid my grin and bent over the bed with my ass on proud display. I wiggled it for good measure and was pleased at Michael’s agonized groan as he held my hips in place and roughly entered me again.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Are you okay? Was that too hard?” He ran soothing hands down my back and over my hip.

“Michael, I’m fine. Just fuck me already!”

“Jesus.”

I held on to the duvet with white knuckles as he pummeled into me over and over again. His cock slid over my prostate, sending a thrilling tingle up my spine. My dick bounced freely, begging for attention I couldn’t spare while Michael’s steady barrage of thrusts kept me holding on for dear life. The moment his rhythm faltered, I took hold of my swollen shaft and firmly stroked, squeezing the head of my dick in an effort not to cum too soon.

“Let me do it.”

Michael pushed my hand aside and took over, sliding his warm palm in a tight fist over me as he moved inside my body, covering me and controlling me until I flew apart in his hands. I cried out, trembling as desire coursed through me, shaking me ’til I felt light-headed and unable to support myself. I heard Michael’s low, deep voice somewhere behind me, above me, whispering sweet platitudes.

“I have you, honey. So beautiful. That’s it.”

All was still for a moment, and then he moved again. Slowly at first. And then faster. My breath caught, but I sent my hips back in invitation, urging him on. Michael took the hint and sped up his movement, slapping his pelvis hard against my ass in a punishing cadence. It wasn’t long before he lost his tempo and came with a roar. He bucked into me over and over again, wrapping me tightly in his arms until the shaking ceased. I loved the feel of his weight as he covered my back with his spent body and rested his forehead between my shoulder blades. I could feel his heart beat through my chest until I could no longer tell the difference between his and mine. The connection was intense, and I had to acknowledge it was something I’d never felt with anyone before him. The realization scared me. What was I going to do when this was gone?

L
ATER
THAT
night, I was haunted in a very Dickensian fashion by my personal ghost of the past. It had been so long since I’d experienced a full-blown panic attack spurred by a nightmare, I’d forgotten how hellish and frightening the aftermath could be.

I dreamed I was climbing a steep staircase carrying a fragile package. I didn’t know what exactly I held, but I knew I had to be very careful and use both arms to cradle my burden. When I reached the second-to-the-last step, I breathed a sigh of relief. I was almost there. In that strange, surreal place dreams take you, I suddenly knew I wasn’t alone, but I wasn’t immediately afraid. If anything, I was hopeful. I smiled tentatively up at a person I couldn’t yet see. In my head I expected Michael, but I sensed I was wrong immediately. It was Neil. He didn’t say anything, but he reached out to grab the package from me with one hand, and with a macabre snarl, he pushed me backward with the other. I screamed as I felt the ground slip underneath me. And because screaming in my sleep wasn’t enough, I did it aloud too.

“Luke! Wake up! Luke!”

I woke with a start and struggled to sit up. There was a cool sheen of sweat on my forehead, and my heart felt like it was beating outside of my chest. Holy fuck! Panic rose like bile in my throat, threatening to choke the life out of me. I gasped for breath and tried again when I still couldn’t get any air.

“Shh. It’s okay, baby. You’re okay. Just a bad dream. You’re fine.”

I was caught between a groggy, sleep-addled state and one of intense awareness, like all my senses were on fire. I’d been here before. This wasn’t my first nightmare slash panic attack. However, it was the first time I woke Michael like this. When my balance and clarity were restored, I knew I’d be mortified. But I had to get to the surface before I could worry about feeling like an idiot. Michael’s low voice and his gentle circular caress on my back worked like a beacon of light on a foggy night. I cupped my hands and concentrated on taking steady, even breaths while I listened to his calming voice and leaned into his touch. Steady. Even. Steady. Even.

After a few minutes, he pulled away from me, running his fingers gently in my hair.

“I’m going to grab you a glass of water, okay? I’ll be right back.”

I removed my hands from my face and tested my lungs. When I was able to take a couple of deep breaths, I knew the attack was over. I was fine.

“Here. Drink this.” Michael sat on the edge of the bed, holding a glass. I took a small sip and muttered a thank-you.

I took a second drink and handed the water back to him before lying flat on my back. I listened to the sounds of him moving about the studio before he finally came to sit next to me, causing the bed to shift under his weight.

“I’m sorry. You probably think I’m a total fruit loop.”

Michael chuckled softly and ran a soothing hand over my arm. “I kind of like Fruit Loops. Except when they get too soggy. Then they’re a little gross.”

I snorted and turned slightly to get a better look at him. “Believe it or not, this doesn’t happen very often. I think I’m… tired, I guess.”

“Hmm. Maybe so. It seemed worse than a nightmare, though. More like a night terror. Want to talk about it?”

I leaned into him and sighed. “I don’t know. It was weird like bad dreams are, you know? But I guess what got me was the part where I looked up and thought I’d find you, but….”

“It wasn’t me?”

“It was Neil. I haven’t thought twice about him in a long time. It was… unsettling.”

“Did you have nightmares about him before?”

“You mean after I left him?” When he nodded, I swallowed hard, hating the return of unwanted memories. “Yes. I was afraid he’d come after me. And worse, I was afraid I’d go with him. I think you noticed I have a problem calming my mind sometimes. I can’t stop my head from spinning when things get sticky. I used to think I was just fucking nuts, but a good therapist is worth his or her weight in gold. My problem wasn’t really Neil. It was how I was coping with a difficult situation. My imagination tends to go to dark places.” I let out a humorless half laugh. I was embarrassed and pretty sure I was guilty of oversharing.

“I love your imagination. It’s quirky. Like you. It takes on a cinematic quality sometimes but… it’s what makes you, you.” Michael pulled me down to lie next to him and curled his larger frame around mine protectively. He traced the contours of my brows, cheekbones, and mouth with a light touch.

“Thanks.” I smiled up at him.

“What set you off tonight? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but it might help to talk it out.”

I didn’t speak at first, but it wasn’t because I didn’t want to tell him. I simply couldn’t.

Our morning in the park with Tonio and Alex had been on my mind all day. They marked Michael’s past and his future. I was the present, but my time was nearly up, and I couldn’t do anything to prolong what we had. I wouldn’t jeopardize his career nor would I knowingly enter an “arrangement” with a closet case. I wasn’t sure why Neil featured in my nightmare. Perhaps he represented fear. Who knew? I simply needed to find a way to cope with the inevitable heartache I sensed was coming my way.

“I don’t know,” I lied.

Maybe he believed me or maybe he thought I was full of shit. I was grateful he let it be. He tousled my hair and gave me a small smile before turning off the bedside lamp. It was just a slight upturn of the mouth, but there was something in his eyes that grounded me and offered much-needed reassurance. “Go back to sleep, Luke.”

Unbelievably, I did.

“W
HAT
DO
you think about mint chip versus regular vanilla chip ice cream?”

Michael gave me a blank stare before returning his attention to a televised European soccer game in the studio apartment. He sat forward with his legs propped on the coffee table while I sat facing him with my legs draped over his thighs. He massaged my feet in an almost unconscious manner and offered the occasional grunt at the random questions I fielded at him. Otherwise he was glued to the action on the flat screen.

“Or are you more of a plain chocolate or van—”

“Offside!” he yelled at the TV. “Sorry. I get—you’ve got to be kidding me! They didn’t call it.” He threw his hands in the air in exasperation and shook his head.

“What does that mean? Offside?”