First Time, Forever
By KC Burn
Derrick and Trevor used to have an incredibly passionate relationship, full of
spontaneity and sizzle. Now that their son is off to college, they want to put their days of
routine, vanilla sex behind them and bring back some of that spark.
Realizing that they’re empty-nesters, Trevor begins to notice their age difference. He
suddenly feels old and unsure of himself, and isn’t confident Derrick still desires him.
When Trevor decides to keep his health issues and gray hairs
down there
to himself,
Derrick is hurt by his partner’s secretive behavior and thinks Trevor must be having an
affair.
Nothing could be further from the truth, but Trevor doesn’t know how to communicate
his fears to his partner. He desperately wants to reconnect with Derrick and rev up their
sex life, but will it be enough to reclaim their marital bliss?
24,000 words
Dear Reader,
It’s hard to get excited about the month of March. The weather in this part of the world
isn’t quite spring, and if it’s still cold, can make a long winter feel even longer. There are
no fun holidays to look forward to except the green beer, corned beef and cabbage of
St. Patrick’s Day, and the school season is at a point where the kids are starting to
whine about having to wake up in the morning and go.
That’s why I’m excited about our 2012 March releases at Carina Press. The variety
and excellence of the stories give us a reason to anticipate and enjoy the month of
March! The rich diversity of these books promises a fantastic reading month at Carina.
Kicking off the month is mystery author Shirley Wells, returning with her popular Dylan
Scott Mystery series. Joining her book
Silent Witness
at the beginning of March is
BDSM erotic romance
Forbidden Fantasies
by Jodie Griffin; Christine Danse’s
paranormal romance
Beauty in the Beast;
and a romantic steampunk gothic horror
that’s like no steampunk you’ve ever read,
Heart of Perdition
by Selah March.
Later in the month, fans of Cindy Spencer Pape will be glad to see her return with
another paranormal romance installment,
Motor City Mage,
while Janis Susan May
returns with another creepy gothic mystery,
Inheritance of Shadows.
Historical
romance lovers will be more than pleased with
A Kiss in the Wind,
Jennifer Bray-
Weber’s inaugural Carina Press release.
I expect new Carina Press authors Joan Kilby, Gillian Archer and Nicole Luiken will gain
faithful followings with their books:
Gentlemen Prefer Nerds,
an entertaining
contemporary romance;
Wicked Weekend,
a sexy and sweet BDSM erotic romance;
a nd
Gate to Kandrith,
the first of a fantasy duology that features wonderful world-
building. Meanwhile, returning Carina authors Robert Appleton and Carol Stephenson
do what they do best: continue to capture readers’ imaginations. Grab a copy of
science-fiction space opera
Alien Velocity
and hot romantic suspense
Her Dark
Protector.
Rounding out the month, we have an entire week of releases from some of today’s
hottest authors in m/m romance, as well as some newcomers to the genre. Ava March
kicks off her entertaining and hot m/m historical romance trilogy with
Brook Street:
Thief
. Look for the other two books in the trilogy,
Brook Street: Fortune Hunter
and
Brook Street: Rogue,
in April and May 2012. Erastes, who can always be counted on to
deliver a compelling, well-researched historical, gives us m/m paranormal historical
romance
A Brush with Darkness,
and science-fiction author Kim Knox makes her
debut in the m/m genre with her sci-fi romance
Bitter Harvest.
KC Burn gives us the
stunning m/m contemporary romance
First Time, Forever.
Joining them are new
Carina Press authors Dev Bentham, with a sweet, heartfelt m/m romance,
Moving in
Rhythm,
and Larry Benjamin with his terrific debut novel, m/m romance
What Binds Us.
As you can see, March comes in like a lion but will not go out like a lamb. All month long
we offer powerful stories from our talented authors. I hope you enjoy them as much as
we have!
We love to hear from readers, and you can email us your thoughts, comments and
questions to generalinquiries@carinapress.com. You can also interact with Carina
Press staff and authors on our blog, Twitter stream and Facebook fan page.
Happy reading!
~Angela James
Executive Editor, Carina Press
www.carinapress.com
www.twitter.com/carinapress
www.facebook.com/carinapress
There are many people whose support has been invaluable to me. This book wouldn’t
have been possible without Alex, Dottie, Chudney and my fabulous editor, Alissa. I also
have to add special thanks to Missy Welsh and Pamela Turner for their help.
Chapter One
Breathing heavily, Derrick leaned against the car. He had no idea how Luke’s stuff was
going to fit in that tiny dorm room. Likely Luke wouldn’t care about the lack of space.
Living on campus would be a hell of a lot more fun for the kid than living at home with his
dads.
Trevor exited the dorm and headed to the car, tape measure dangling from
one hand. He’d looked kind of lost all day.
Derrick moved to meet his husband, tracing a finger lightly down his
forearm. Trevor needed a hug, but a campus full of university students and their
parents was far too public for him.
“How are you doing, babe?” Derrick asked.
“Fine, fine.”
Derrick didn’t believe him for a second. “Where’s Luke gotten to?”
“He said he’d be down in a minute.” Trevor fiddled with the tape measure,
gaze on the ground.
“Don’t worry, babe, we’ll get through this empty-nester thing together.”
Trevor gave him a sad little smile, which helped Derrick smother the giggle
wanting to escape at the thought of them as empty-nesters. Hell, he was only thirty-four
and Trevor was still six weeks away from forty.
Luke ran out and skidded to a stop. “Hey, Dad, Derrick, we done here?”
“Trying to get rid of us?” Derrick ruffled Luke’s hair, getting an embarrassed
glare in return.
“No, but some of the guys are going out for dinner and I want to go with
them.”
“I think we’re done here. I got the measurements for your desk and dresser,
so I’ll have them delivered tomorrow.” Trevor pocketed the tape measure and opened
the driver’s door, wincing slightly as he did so. He’d better not be moving that furniture
himself, not after straining his shoulder earlier in the week. Derrick had tried to take the
heaviest boxes, but Trevor hadn’t taken too kindly to his interference.
“And your new laptop will arrive sometime tomorrow, as well.” Luke was
probably the only guy in the dorm who’d have antique furniture and a fully loaded, state-
of-the-art laptop. Not surprising, when one dad owned an antique store and the other
was a network security consultant.
“Okay, thanks. See ya later!”
Trevor opened his mouth to say something, but Luke was already running
back toward the building.
“Come on, babe, let’s get home. He’ll be fine. We’re only forty-five minutes
away.” Derrick got in the car as soon as Trevor did and they pulled away.
A strange sense of loss tugged at him as Trevor guided the car onto the
highway. The house would be much more silent without Luke’s energy. Hell, he was
going to miss the kid as much as Trevor would.
Luke had been the result of a very young Trevor trying to convince himself
he was straight. Not sure who he’d actually fooled, poor man. While Cassie was alive,
Trevor had regular visitation and Derrick had been introduced to Trevor’s eleven-year-
old son, all very proper, once Derrick and Trevor had realized how serious it was
between the two of them.
Their lives had changed irrevocably the instant an inattentive driver on a cell
phone plowed into the side of Cassie’s car while she was on the way to pick up Luke
from soccer practice. Having to fight Cassie’s parents for full custody had been a
surprise, but his and Trevor’s stable marriage, as well as their willingness to purchase a
home in Luke’s school district, swayed the balance with the judge.
At fourteen, Luke moved into their home, and at twenty-nine, Derrick had to
learn how to become a second father to a petulant, grieving teen.
He’d succeeded, if the desire to tell Trevor to turn around and bring Luke
home was any indication. The silence in the car was almost oppressive, and he glanced
over at Trevor, whose lips were still compressed in a thin line. He had tons of ideas
about how to cheer up his husband, and at least half involved lots of sex in rooms
they’d never had sex in before.
Floors, furniture and countertops all awaited a christening, and Derrick was
primed for the task. Since Luke moved in, they hadn’t gone on vacation, just the two of
them, gotten rowdy at a strip club or hosted a party for their friends. Well, maybe the
strip club wasn’t necessary at their age, but perhaps an all-exclusive resort somewhere
warm. Make a great surprise gift for Trevor’s birthday.
The Underwood job would be long done—they’d go to the beach, sip rum
drinks and Derrick could ogle Trevor in a swimsuit before taking him back to bed. His
cock twitched. No need to wait until vacation to fulfill part of that fantasy. It had been far
too long since they’d had sex.
As Trevor spun the wheel to make a right, he gasped slightly.
“How’s your shoulder? I could have driven if you’re in pain.”
“It’s fine. I told you that before.”
He bit back an angry response. The day had been hard on both of them,
and he couldn’t blame Trevor for being grumpy on the day Luke left home. The bad
shoulder was only worsening his mood. No acrobatics tonight. A hot bath, a mindless
movie and a muscle relaxant would do his husband a world of good. More active
cheering up could wait for another night.
* * *
Droplets of sweat spattered the treadmill’s display panel. Trevor’s shoulder twinged as
he raised his arm to wipe sweat out of his eyes with the back of his forearm. He’d
forgotten to bring a towel. Yet another example of his slide into middle age. He frowned
at the LED display and stabbed at a button, increasing his speed. Middle age was one
thing, but adding a paunch was quite another. His brain had populated a giant
scoreboard in his mind, steadily counting down the days until he turned the dreaded
forty. It ticked through his consciousness on a constant basis. Running helped drown it
out with sweat and exhaustion.
Gasping, he made it to the end of his longer, faster run, relieved he could
finally bring his speed down to a walk.
“Hey, Trevor.”
He glanced up at the sound of Barry’s voice, but the unexpected movement
caused him to stumble and he grabbed at the bar to steady himself. The earlier twinge
in his shoulder became a sharp jab, and he stifled a grimace as he cut short the cool-
down portion of the program.
“Hey, Barry, what’s up? Thought you weren’t going to show today.” After he’d
hired Barry to work in the store, they’d realized they worked out at the same gym. Their
employer/employee relationship rapidly morphed into a friendship, despite the fifteen-
year age gap.
Trevor enjoyed having a workout partner, something he hadn’t had since
Derrick’s business picked up. Before, he and Derrick would run out the stresses of the
day, lift some weights and talk. Derrick always tried to sneak kisses in the locker room.
Trevor never let him succeed, even when they had the place to themselves, but he
loved being the recipient of Derrick’s attention. After Luke moved in, they’d gotten into
the habit of working out separately because Trevor wanted one of them was at home
when Luke was, but now there was no reason he couldn’t work out at a time more
convenient for his husband. Maybe he’d even let Derrick land a kiss or two. The shower
stall at the far end was quite secluded.
“Seriously, boss, are you feeling okay?” Barry frowned and then used his
towel to swipe at Trevor’s face.
“I’m fine.” Aside from the rivers of sweat soaking the neck of his T-shirt and
the dull ache in his shoulder. Was he wearing a fucking sign saying Antique: Handle with
Care?
Barry’s eyebrows lifted, but he let it go. He might have to give Barry a raise.
“I slept in today. Paul kept me up late last night.” A wicked grin flashed
across Barry’s face, and Trevor grinned back, trying desperately to avoid thinking about
how long it had been since Derrick had kept him up late.
“I can lift before running, if you’re heading in there.” Barry gave the treadmill
a quick wipe-down.
“Thanks. I forgot a towel. Stupid of me.” He lifted the hem of his shirt to dry
the fresh sweat from his brow. The pain in his shoulder flared again. “I’m not going to lift
today. I’ve got some errands to run.”
“Okay, boss. See you later.” Barry swung onto the treadmill and pressed the
buttons to set his program.
Trevor nodded and headed for the change room. Errands. Yeah, like seeing
the doctor again. He’d just been in for his physical a week ago, and now he needed to
go back for his damned shoulder. He’d never seen a doctor this often in a month since
he’d busted his nose and cheekbone playing hockey in university.
Pathetic.
* * *
Home at last. Trevor’s hand opened and his gym bag slid to the floor in the foyer. Even
his fingers were tired, and his shoulder had ached all the way home. When his doctor
had been able to squeeze him in at short notice, he’d been amazed. But he’d ended up
with a lot more than a prescription for painkillers. A simple muscle strain but possible
underlying
arthritis?
And the blood work from his physical had been
conveniently
available.
Trevor sat at the kitchen table, head buried in his hands. Two months to get
his cholesterol down. Jesus. Wasn’t high cholesterol something old men got? Fat guys?
He worked out, was in great shape and watched what he ate—mostly. The doctor had
said watching his diet might work, but probably wouldn’t…for those exact reasons. If he
was fit and ate right and still had high cholesterol, then he was just old.
He lifted his head as Derrick wandered into the kitchen in a tailored Italian
suit, attention focused on the black silk tie he was fastening around his neck. When
they’d met, his husband was a super-intelligent geek with a dream, and Trevor couldn’t
have been more proud of the sophisticated, successful man Derrick had grown into.
“Babe, I thought I heard you come home.” Derrick flicked him a glance
through lowered lashes. “You’d better hurry up and get ready.”
Get ready? Oh, shit. The fancy party Derrick’s last client was throwing to
celebrate the successful launch of their new website. It was a perfect opportunity for
Derrick to network, maybe set up another job for when he completed the Underwood
one that had had him going full tilt for the past couple of weeks.
Trevor wasn’t sure he’d have the energy to find his way to the bedroom,
never mind get changed and spend the evening making small talk with a bunch of
strangers…
“Are you okay going by yourself?”
Derrick’s head whipped up. “But we planned this. You didn’t forget, did you?”
Well, yes, he had, but it wasn’t like he’d forgotten their anniversary. It was
just a stupid party, wasn’t it? A work party.
“I’m exhausted.” And depressed as hell, but he wasn’t admitting that aloud.
Derrick stepped closer, peering at him. “You’ve been tired a lot lately. Are
you okay?”
Shit. How could a thirty-four-year-old understand the weariness of almost-
forty? He’d been shocked by Derrick’s empty-nester comment the previous week
—made him feel even older than he did right now. Was that how Derrick saw him?
He pressed a fist to his chest, hoping the sudden breathlessness and pain
was from his fear.
“I’m fine. My workout took a lot out of me today. I’m fine, just…tired. I’m
sorry, hon.”
“I wish you were coming with me. Feels like forever since we’ve gone
anywhere together.” Derrick gave him a funny little half smile and trailed his fingers
lightly over Trevor’s forearm. “I don’t have to go. We could order pizza, watch movies…
”
Pizza? No way. Sky-high cholesterol, especially buried in pepperoni the way
they both liked it. “No, you go on. It’s a great opportunity for you and I really am beat.”
Maybe he could change his eating habits while Derrick completed this job,
get everything under control before Derrick had a chance to make a big thing out of it.
His shoulder was still sore—more evidence he was falling apart—but he could add
even more cardio to his workouts while it healed, and help his cholesterol levels at the
same time. Then he could figure out where he could take Derrick to make it up to him.
Not a work party. Somewhere fun.
Grimacing, Derrick finished adjusting his tie and buttoned his suit jacket.
“Get some rest and don’t wait up for me.”
With a quick, chaste kiss on the cheek, he was gone, leaving behind a ghost
of cologne. Trevor breathed deep, trying to keep Derrick with him as long as possible
while a nagging sensation of doom filled the void left in the house.
He rubbed a finger over the spot Derrick had kissed.
The whole sex thing was worrying him. Somehow he’d assumed once Luke
moved into the dorm, their relationship would be like it was when they’d first gotten
together—crazy sex in the middle of the day, hanging out and watching movies, lying
naked in bed at night and planning their next vacation. Vacation. They hadn’t gone on
vacation just the two of them since they’d moved into this house.
Sure, Derrick had been working a lot lately, but there was a time that hadn’t
mattered, at least when it came to sex. Trevor would’ve initiated it, but he was worried
he wouldn’t have the stamina to keep up with his younger husband. Right now, he wasn’t
sure he’d be able to get it up, assuming Derrick had even been offering. When they
only saw each other a few minutes a day, how did he bring up their nonexistent sex life
without sounding like an asshole?
He stood and grabbed a glass of water to wash down his prescription
painkillers. Maybe he’d watch one of those ridiculous action movies Derrick loved. The
sounds of the explosions might fill the silence in the rest of the house. He and Derrick
had lived alone before, in their condo on Charles Street, but he’d never been so lonely
there. He missed Derrick, although he hadn’t realized how much until Luke moved out.
And not just the sex either, although… God. The sex they’d had when they first got
together…so hot. Not that Derrick wasn’t still hot. His husband was more gorgeous now
than the day they’d met. It was like he’d been distilled to a dark, heady perfection.
The court battle to get custody of Luke had scared Trevor shitless. As soon
as he realized Cassie’s parents were going to fight him, he’d gotten rid of all their sex
toys and play paraphernalia, except for lube. He was terrified of Luke finding it and
wondering if his father was a freak. He was terrified someone else would find out about
it and help Luke’s grandparents make a case that he and Derrick were unfit parents.
He was so careful about how close to Derrick he stood, how demonstrative
he was, especially when neighbors, teachers, other parents or Luke’s friends were
around. But he’d always assumed he and Derrick had an unspoken agreement to go
back to the way things were before, once Luke was grown and out of the house.
Now it had been so long he was afraid to ask. Was Derrick bored with their
life together…and their sex life? Were they just out of practice spending time together
and having sex regularly or was Derrick no longer interested?
Would he look like a silly old fool if he tried to encourage a return to their
previous relationship? Their old sex life? He missed it, but he’d be absolutely destroyed
if Derrick wasn’t interested, or even worse, suggested taking it easy because of his
shoulder. He didn’t want any confirmation that Derrick thought he was too damned old
to play the way they used to.
Trevor settled on the couch and turned on the movie he’d chosen. With one
of Derrick’s favorite movies on, he could almost pretend his husband was watching it
with him. Almost.
* * *
Derrick bit his lip to keep from telling his newest client he was full of shit. Jason
Underwood had just enough technical knowledge to be dangerous, and he kept mucking
around with the code, figuring he was helping. Already his ham-fisted meddling had
extended this job by a week, with no end in sight. His current lecture—hideously wrong
—had already gone on for an hour, but once Jason got started, he didn’t stop. The guy
was good-looking, about ten years older than Trevor, but his constant need to tell
Derrick his business when he didn’t know dick about it was grating enough he’d begun
to hate the sight of the man.
If Derrick’s mood were better, he might have more tolerance, but he wanted
to get this damned job done, get some sleep and try to stop being pissed at Trevor for
bailing on him last minute before yesterday’s party. Even if it was for work, it would’ve
been nice to go out together. The cold, empty feeling in his gut over Trevor’s rejection
hadn’t faded overnight.
When he and Trevor had gotten together, Derrick had been a total twink.
Now, he was too old and successful to be a twink. What if those changes meant he
wasn’t Trevor’s type anymore?
No, that was silly. Trevor had been tired, had looked tired, and Derrick was
letting his own exhaustion and frustration get the better of him.
“Oh, my, look at the time.” Jason checked his expensive gold watch. “Let me
take you to lunch and we can discuss this further.”
Please, no.
“I was thinking about heading back to the office…”
“Nonsense. You have to eat. I know just the place. You’ll love it.”
Would Jason even notice if he rolled his eyes? Probably not, but it wasn’t
good business sense to indulge, no matter how great a good eye roll would feel.
Honestly, the man ran a multi-million dollar company. Where did a CEO find all this time
to spend with him? And wouldn’t he rather Derrick spent his time oh, say, doing the job
he was contracted to do? But he’d seen that determined expression on Jason’s face
before. It looked like he was going to lunch.
Jason gave his assistant a few curt instructions and escorted Derrick to the
elevator, standing far too close once they got inside.
“I don’t have my car with me and I really do need to be back at the office
early this afternoon.” Derrick drove plenty during his commute, so he walked whenever
he could. If he’d had the foresight to bring his car, he could just follow Jason to a
restaurant and leave when he wanted. He stifled a snort.
Right.
Because he’d been
doing a fabulous job of getting out of lunch. What made him think he’d be able to leave
before Jason was ready to go?
“We’ll walk. It’s close. And I have a board meeting this afternoon I have to
be back for. Don’t you worry.”
Talking nonstop, Jason led Derrick out of the building and down a couple of
blocks. A few inane responses were the only prompts Jason needed. The man walked
like they were racing to the finish line.
They turned left onto Queen Street, and Derrick stopped dead. Computers
on Queen, the tiny computer install-and-repair shop, was still there. The one he’d
worked at while getting his Masters in Computer Science. The one Trevor Winslow had
come into when he’d wanted to computerize his store records. The second Derrick laid
eyes on his reddish-brown hair and wide blue eyes, he’d volunteered immediately to do
the on-site install, even though he normally concentrated on repairs. God. He’d
extended the process as long as he dared, getting to know the gorgeous antique shop
owner, and teaching him how to use the computer and software with the maximum
amount of touching he could incorporate. But his tactic paid off. As soon as the install
was complete, Trevor had asked for his number.
For their first date, Derrick met Trevor at Winslow’s Antiques for closing
time, and went to dinner only after Trevor sucked him off before bending him over a
desk and thoroughly reaming his ass. Derrick spent dinner in a state of orgasmic bliss.
They’d gone back to Trevor’s apartment later that night and did it all over again, proving
the first time wasn’t a fantastic fluke. He’d never looked at another man since.
Derrick cupped his hands around his eyes and peered into the shop. As far
as he could tell, nothing had changed inside, beyond the various computer models on
display or in pieces on the counter.
Even the rickety wooden stool was there, in the same corner where it had
always sat. Trevor’s store closed earlier than the computer shop. When they first
started dating, Trevor would come by, sit on that stool and wait while Derrick worked. If
the repair wasn’t too tricky, they’d talk. During one of those talks, he’d told Trevor about
his dream to start his own business once he finished grad school. Trevor had
encouraged him, mentored him, believed in him. His parents didn’t give a damn what he
did with his life. Trevor was the one who’d ensured his plan was a success.
“Derrick?” Jason called as he strode back.
How long had he walked on, probably still talking, before he realized Derrick
wasn’t beside him?
“Is something wrong?”
“No, not at all,” Derrick replied. “I was just looking inside. This is where I met
my husband.”
Jason raised a brow. “Trouble in paradise?”
“No, why would you say that?”
“You sounded sad when you said that. I thought maybe…”
Trevor was just having a hard time dealing with Luke growing up and moving
out. That was all. “No, everything is just fine, Jason. I’m starving. Let’s find this
restaurant, okay?”
Jason slid a hand over his forearm and he repressed a shudder. The older
man had lost his previous debonair demeanor and had a greedy expression on his face
as he stared at…
Oh shit. He’s staring at my package.
“Well, if you’re wrong about
that, you can always call me. Or even if you’re not wrong. We could have a little fun
together. Your husband would never have to know.”
Ugh. Really? If Jason had presented that same offer to the twenty-five-
year-old he’d been when he worked in this store, Derrick would have told him to fuck off
…in rather more graphic terms. But Trevor had instilled some decorum in him while they
worked together to get his business off the ground. Derrick clamped his teeth down on
the vicious rejection that threatened to spew out.
Instead, he smiled tightly. “Thank you for the offer, Jason, but I’m quite
happy with my relationship as it is.” Even if he hadn’t seen Trevor for more than a few
minutes at a time in almost two weeks. Hadn’t had the opportunity to touch him
intimately in even longer.
Jason shrugged, and gave him a look that said he thought Derrick would
change his mind.
He’d get through this lunch and endeavor to conduct as many future
meetings as he could by conference call. At least he knew now why Jason seemed to
be extending this job. Always awkward having to fend off an advance while conducting
business, but if he could complete this job, it would be great PR for his company.
Chapter Two
The house echoed weirdly when he was alone in it. With Winslow’s closed Mondays
and Tuesdays, Trevor frequently had the house to himself. But there had always been a
pattern. Waking up Luke, making sure he ate, driving him to practices or whatever,
overseeing homework, making dinner. He no longer needed all that time to prepare for
husband or son returning home, especially when Derrick’s fucked-up hours meant
Trevor didn’t even know when his husband would be there. No point in making dinner for
two. Besides, Derrick wouldn’t be interested in his plain chicken breasts and steamed
vegetables, and he was in no hurry to explain why he was eating them anyway.
He hated the faint, underlying fear that Derrick was avoiding him. He hadn’t
seen Derrick—awake—since the night of the party. He couldn’t tell if Derrick was angry
or hurt or simply working the long, erratic hours he normally did when he had high-profile
jobs. He’d never questioned his husband’s motivations before, and it wasn’t the first
time Derrick had worked like this—he almost thrived on the frenetic pace. Maybe if
they’d had any time together in the past two weeks, they’d have talked, but as it was
he’d just accepted Derrick’s terse messages letting him know he’d be home late.
Even if Derrick wasn’t upset, Trevor needed to do something. Bridge the
gap he sensed widening between them. Was this what all married couples went through
when their kids left home? This relearning how to relate to each other without the filter
of kids between them?
He sat in front of his computer, looking at the calendar, trying to ignore the
ever-looming birthday. A Saturday night was the best night for their work schedules, so
Trevor made dinner reservations for the 360 Restaurant at the top of the CN Tower,
where he’d taken Derrick the night he proposed. It was the first time Derrick had ever
been to the revolving restaurant, and he’d been like an excited little kid. Trevor hadn’t
been sure he’d be able to capture Derrick’s attention from the windows long enough to
ask the question.
Waiting two weeks for date night was agony, but it was the earliest he could
get decent reservations. Be even nicer if the Underwood job were done by then—more
reason to celebrate.
Now all he had to do was figure out how to test the waters, sexually
speaking. Get them both into bed at the same time, while they were both awake.
The sex, always good, had been spectacular before Luke. Trevor didn’t
regret fighting Cassie’s parents for full custody—not for a minute. He didn’t think
Derrick did either. But there was no denying their sex lives changed significantly,
including a reduction in frequency and wildness of their encounters. Most of it was his
fault—the court battle shook him to his bones. Derrick never said a negative word
about the new restrictions.
Tying up Derrick and teasing him had been one of Trevor’s favorite
weekend pastimes. Dark sheets, dark restraints—ties at first, and later soft, specially
made cuffs—Trevor adored the contrast against Derrick’s pale skin. Sometime he
added a dark blindfold as well, but mostly he preferred to see Derrick’s eyes filled with
lust.
Neither sheets nor cuffs escaped his sex toy purge after Cassie died.
Probably he should have at least kept the sheets, but the sheets—black, crimson,
chocolate, navy—all reminded him of the wild, noisy sex they had. Trevor replaced the
sheets with plain white ones and took the cuffs, along with everything else, to the dump.
He hadn’t even been able to throw it out in the normal trash, his mind filled with visions
of dogs ripping the bags open or nosy garbage collectors sifting through it.
Trevor sat up straighter. The sheets might give Derrick a nudge, a little
reminder. If Derrick ignored the gesture…well, Trevor would have a better idea where
he stood.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he was browsing through the bedding
section at one of his favorite stores. Black satin sheets? No way. Too cliché and they
were a bitch to wash. If Trevor were very lucky, these sheets were going to need
washing on a regular basis. A few more mouse clicks and Trevor had ordered dark
wine and dark teal colored sheets, which should arrive in the next two or three days.
He sat back in his chair, eyes closed, imagining what he could do with
Derrick on those sheets. He was hesitant to order new cuffs—seemed a little
presumptuous after a five-year hiatus—but if Derrick reacted well to the sheets, they
had neckties they could use in the interim.
Trevor couldn’t wait.
* * *
He plunged his tongue into Derrick’s mouth, sweeping inside, claiming him. It had been
too long since he’d showed Derrick how well they moved together, how well they fucked,
how much Derrick belonged with him. While Derrick melted under his fiery kisses,
Trevor’s hands were busy stripping him bare.
When Derrick was naked, cock rising proudly from his groin, Trevor threw
him on the bed, wrists tied to the bed frame, before Derrick could catch his breath.
Sometimes, Trevor would restrain Derrick’s legs, too—they’d bought their bed with that
in mind. But this time, he wanted to feel Derrick’s legs wrapped around him while he
pumped into his husband’s tight, willing body.
Derrick writhed, his cock dripping as he stared at Trevor.
“Please.”
So beautiful when Derrick pleaded. Trevor straddled him, then pressed his
fully clothed body against Derrick. With a moan, Derrick rubbed his groin against the
denim-covered bulge in Trevor’s pants.
He placed his lips against Derrick’s warm ear, licking and biting at the tender
lobe before he drew back a few centimeters to whisper. “What do you want? Want me
to fuck you like this, fully dressed? Just pull out my prick and slide it in?”
Whimpering, Derrick used his strong legs to coax Trevor closer.
“Or did you want me to strip, slowly, make you wait for it? Maybe I’ll jack off,
come all over you, and play with you. Make you wait until I’m hard again before fucking
you, letting you come.”
God. They’d done that once…wrung Trevor’s balls dry. Derrick had been
fucking insane by the time Trevor was ready for the second round.
“Please, babe, please. Need you now.” Derrick turned his head, licking and
nipping at Trevor’s ear. He was already so far gone his tongue was wet and sloppy, his
panting breath loud.
Trevor pulled back, to his husband’s very vocal displeasure, and grabbed
the lube.
“Spread wide,” he ordered, pleased with Derrick’s immediate response.
He loved seeing Derrick like this—wanton and slutty and dripping.
Quickly, he prepped Derrick, moving from one to three fingers in the
shortest possible time. He could have stroked Derrick’s cock at the same time, but the
complete lack of friction fired up Derrick’s arousal. His gorgeous cock was flushed dark
red, the slit steadily oozing precome, which pooled on Derrick’s flat belly. His balls,
waxed hairless as always, were tight against his body. He’d lick them, but later. If
Trevor’s mouth went anywhere near Derrick’s sac, Derrick would come. Right now,
Trevor wanted to feel Derrick come while getting fucked.
When Derrick’s tight hole was as stretched as it needed to be, Trevor pulled
back again and slowly unbuttoned his fly. Derrick’s gaze was glued to his crotch, teeth
biting down on his full lower lip.
Trevor extricated his hot, aching cock and slicked it up with more lube.
“Hurry,” Derrick demanded.
If he hadn’t been so aroused himself, he might have made Derrick wait even
longer, but instead he obeyed and moved into place between Derrick’s thighs.
Derrick rubbed his legs along the denim encasing most of Trevor’s lower
body. He pressed the blunt head of his cock against Derrick’s hole, enjoying Derrick’s
struggle to shove himself down onto Trevor’s erection, even as the ties around his
wrists prevented him from getting what he wanted.
But Trevor hadn’t the strength of will to tease him too long and after a few
seconds, he pushed his dick inside in one swift movement.
Derrick flung his head back and groaned, a pink flush crawling up his chest.
“Babe, move.”
Trevor was more than happy to accede to that demand. They’d dispensed
with condoms shortly before their marriage; sinking bare into his husband was a gift and
a promise and something neither of them had done with anyone else. The sensation of
Derrick’s body accepting him, squeezing him, was like nothing else in the world.
Back and forth, still without touching Derrick’s cock, which bobbed with each
energetic hip flex.
Derrick scrunched his eyes closed, yelled Trevor’s name and orgasmed,
spunk spraying everywhere. Between the musky, beloved smell of Derrick’s jizz and the
tight grip of Derrick’s ass, there was no stopping it. Trevor howled as he emptied
himself into Derrick’s body, the fluid making the last couple of shuddery thrusts a bit
more slippery.
Trevor collapsed beside Derrick, who twisted with him, ensuring Trevor’s
cock remained inside as long as possible. Before long Trevor slipped free, along with a
trickle of semen. He propped himself up on one arm and stared down at his gorgeous,
come-covered lover.
* * *
Trevor blinked. And blinked again. The website page in front of him declared his bed
sheet purchase a success, while his hand remained clamped around his dick, come
slicking his hand and cock and pants.
God.
He glanced around guiltily. This was the first
orgasm he’d had outside of their bedroom or shower since they bought this house.
Luke wasn’t here now, and there was no cause for concern.
But there was cause for a shower. He hadn’t expected purchasing sheets to
prompt such a vivid fantasy that he’d whip it out right here in the open and rub one off,
but even the thought of Derrick was hot enough to scorch. Now all he needed was to
get the man in those sheets for real.
With a grin at his daring, Trevor stripped off his pants, shirt and underwear
right there in the office, wiped his hand on the shirt and, stark naked, took the whole lot
into the laundry room and started it washing. He’d forgotten how much he liked
wandering around nude.
Then he took a long, hot shower, and memories of Derrick at their old
condo, wet and moaning against the tiles, made his dick twitch again. It had been ages
since he and Derrick had showered together…between the echo in the master
bathroom and Derrick’s tendency to get loud, Trevor never wanted to risk it in the
house. But now he did, badly. He wanted to savor Derrick’s moans and whimpers in a
bathroom completely virgin to their sexual exploits.
What first? God, the choices… Shower? Or tie Derrick up in bed? Hell, they
could fuck in the kitchen if they wanted. What he needed was time when they were both
home to convince Derrick, show Derrick what they’d both been missing. They could be
as wicked and wild as they’d been when they first got together.
Perhaps this weekend Derrick would have gotten enough work done that he
could take a breather. They could reconnect, enjoy just the two of them in the house.
He toweled off in front of the mirror. Inspecting his stomach closely, he
determined the workouts had smoothed out a bit of the softness he’d noticed. Posing,
he flexed various muscles. Yeah, maybe the new workout schedule wasn’t all bad.
Then, something else caught his eye. He moved closer to the mirror before
peering down at his cock. Was that…a gray hair? In his pubes?
No. Please, no.
He threaded his fingers through his bush, trying to isolate
the gray among the dark, and saw another. Lifting his cock out of the way, he glanced
back in the mirror. A small nest of them had taken up residence on his scrotum.
Stumbling to the toilet, he sat heavily on the cold lid as sweat beaded on his
forehead. Inadequacy and fear roiled in his gut, obliterating his good mood. If Derrick
saw those hairs, he’d realize a hottie in his prime shouldn’t be fucking an old goat.
Would the new sheets be enough to distract Derrick, or were his plans going to die a
quick death?
Chapter Three
Derrick threw his briefcase on the kitchen table and loosened his tie.
“Babe, you here?”
There was no answer, but Trevor’s car was in the garage. He couldn’t have
gone far, and for once, Derrick was home early.
The day after they’d gotten Luke settled into his new dorm, Derrick started
the new job. He had planned on being done in a week, and it had been two and a half
weeks now of late nights and fielding stupid phone calls and fixing mistakes the client
had pushed through, fucking with Derrick’s code behind his back. Damn Underwood.
If only Derrick believed the issues stemmed from a true desire to learn…but
the desire was more to get in his pants than to gain any knowledge of network security.
He’d bitten his tongue a few times, trying not to be as blunt in his rejection as he would
be anywhere else. The job was almost done—hopefully by the end of the week, two
more weeks at most. Then he and Trevor could start enjoying being empty-nesters.
He laughed as he got a beer out of the fridge. He still found it hilarious to
think of them that way, but Trevor didn’t like it nearly so much. Yet another reminder that
Luke was gone.
Too bad they were both decades from retirement. This working for a living
was shitty; he’d hang out with his husband all day, every day if he could.
Maybe he was greedy, but Trevor was so hot, and Derrick never thought
he’d find someone who fit him so well, someone he loved so much.
Beer bottle partway to his lips, a flash of movement caught his eye. He
moved to the sink and looked out into the backyard.
Oh…there he was. His fucking hot husband.
Trevor was raking the yard, torso bare, sweaty and oh-so-lickable. He
stood, back to Derrick, and wiped his hand across his forehead, brushing the damp,
dark strands away from his face. Earphones snaked from his ears to an MP3 player in
his right front pocket.
A droplet of sweat trickled down Trevor’s spine and disappeared from view
beneath the waistband of a pair of well-worn, tissue-thin jeans.
Derrick’s mouth filled with saliva as he pictured tracing the same path with
his tongue, ripping those jeans right off Trev’s slim hips, allowing him to continue his
tongue’s downward path, tonguing that tight hole open.
Oh, yeah. Then he’d push Trev onto his knees, spread his legs, and Derrick
could get his face right in there. Once Trev started moaning, Derrick would move on to
those low-hanging balls. Trev loved the oral attention and Derrick loved to give it to him.
Trevor started raking again, muscles moving smoothly under his caramel-
colored skin, reminding Derrick of how his back arched and worked when Derrick had
his cock buried deep inside. Or when he covered Derrick, shoving Derrick’s legs back
and slamming like a wild man into Derrick’s waiting, welcoming body.
Derrick blinked. What the hell was he doing? Staring at his half-naked
husband, pressing his swollen, aching cock against his palm for a bit of relief. The
impressionable teen with shitty-ass timing no longer lived in the house. Derrick had
been fantasizing about this day for so long, he’d almost forgotten he didn’t have to
dream about it. With a decisive thump, he set his half-finished beer on the counter and
strode out to the yard.
Because of the earphones, Trev didn’t hear his approach. Derrick remained
behind his husband as Trevor stuffed leaves into giant paper bags. The earthy scent of
autumn blended perfectly with the musky scent of a hard working sun-warmed man. At
his cock’s insistence, Derrick wrapped his arms around Trevor, heedless of what the
dirt and sweat would do to his white dress shirt and blue silk tie.
Trevor stiffened in his arms and yanked out his earphones.
“Hi, hon. You’re home early.”
Derrick mouthed the spot where neck met shoulder.
“Mmm.” Really, what else needed to be said? Derrick slid his hands around
Trev’s waist, grinding his erection into Trev’s fine ass.
But Trev grabbed his wrists, halting his progress to Trev’s fly.
“Shit, Derrick, what are you doing?” he whispered.
Derrick stilled, lips pressed to Trev’s neck. What the hell did Trev think he
was doing? It hadn’t been
that
long since they’d had sex. Granted, for years they’d had
the furtive, silent Saturday night after-the-kid’s-asleep parent sex he’d always thought
was an urban legend. Didn’t Trev want to take advantage of the freedom to touch and
kiss whenever they wanted? The freedom to fuck all over the house…and outside it,
too?
Lifting his head, Derrick eyed the six-feet-tall privacy fence surrounding
every inch of their yard.
“No one can see us, babe.” The grip on Derrick’s wrists didn’t lessen, and
Trev actually moved his ass away from Derrick’s groin.
He pulled his hands back and stepped away like he’d been burned. He’d
assumed their recent dry spell had been simply due to his lengthy work days. But this
was something else.
“Everything okay?” He was careful not to make it sound like an accusation.
“It’s fine, Derrick. But I’m sweaty and dirty and I’d like to get this finished
before sundown.”
“Oh, right.” Because there was a raking deadline? Stunned, cock shrinking,
Derrick went back into the house, grabbed his beer and went into the bedroom to
change out of his work clothes.
* * *
Trevor tensed his body, trying to stop the tremors, trying to calm his rampant cock.
Why, oh why, did Derrick choose today to come home early, wanting sex?
Trevor could cry, he wanted to fuck his husband so bad but exposing himself to Derrick,
having to explain why he’d mutilated himself, would be humiliating.
After his horrifying discovery in the bathroom the previous day, he’d called
the spa Derrick went to all the time. He took their first available appointment, glad he
hadn’t gotten Chris, who usually did Derrick’s waxing. God. Marco said the first time
was the worst, but shit. It hurt like nothing he’d ever experienced. He’d never realized
what Derrick went through to keep himself so precise down there…although he’d never
waxed it all off, as Trevor had.
He’d planned to pass it off as a surprise, and hope Derrick didn’t question it.
But he’d never waxed anything before. How could he have realized he’d end up swollen,
itchy and sore, with ugly red bumps that hadn’t faded hours later? He didn’t feel sexy,
just stupid. He’d have to avoid being naked in Derrick’s presence until this damned
reaction went away.
Of course, he’d grabbed the first excuse he could think of, that someone
might see them. What difference did that make now?
Sweet fuck all.
No one could take
his son away from him anymore. But citing his need to finish raking? He was lucky
Derrick hadn’t belted him. Part of him wished Derrick hadn’t given up so easily, but he
really didn’t want to explain his manscaping mishap. The last thing he wanted was to
look like an idiot in the eyes of his gorgeous, smart, younger husband. He’d have to
make it up to Derrick as soon as his balls healed.
Morosely, he finished raking the fucking yard, and returned the rake and
extra bags to the garage. Derrick’s car was gone.
He trudged inside to get a bottle of water. Man, he needed a shower.
Perhaps an activity involving a lot of sweating was not the smartest thing he could have
done. Because his groin was on fire. He spied Derrick’s note on the counter. “Gone to
gym. Back later. Will pick up dinner from The Palace on the way home.”
Derrick’s trip to the gym would give Trevor plenty of time to shower, but
dinner from The Palace of Bombay? He couldn’t eat that. Not if he was going to stick to
his doctor’s diet plan. Trevor threw a chicken breast in the oven to bake while he
showered. There was some leftover salad he could eat with it.
By the time Derrick returned, carrying divine-smelling take-out bags, Trevor
had showered, eaten, washed the dishes and sat in front of the TV, dressed in
pajamas. As long as he avoided going to bed at the same time as Derrick, it should be
okay. It would fucking suck, because he loved the sleepy little cuddle as they drifted into
sleep together—their hours were skewed often enough he didn’t get it every night. But
he could wait. He was an adult—hell, he was a middle-aged man.
* * *
Going to the gym had been what Derrick needed; he’d worked out his bad mood on the
machines and now he was starving. He’d brought home dinner from their favorite Indian
place. They’d had their first official date there, and the restaurant had catered their
wedding reception. It was a little out of the way, but the food was worth it. Derrick’s
optimism returned. So what if they’d hit a dry spell? They’d find their way out, and it
could start tonight with a recreation of the meal from their wedding. Maybe Trevor had
just been surprised earlier, or tired or something.
“Hey, babe, you ready for dinner?” He pulled containers from the bag and
set them on the counter.
“No, thanks. I ate already. You go ahead.”
Already ate? What the hell?
He left the bags on the counter and walked into the den. Trevor was curled
up on their sofa watching one of those antique-buyer reality shows. Wearing pajamas.
Pajamas. A surefire sign Derrick wasn’t getting any tonight. He wasn’t sure he wanted it
now.
“Didn’t you see my note?”
Trevor gave him a wide-eyed look before shifting his gaze over Derrick’s
shoulder. Shit. Trevor never could look him in the eye and lie to him, and it had been a
long fucking time since he’d seen that look. What the hell was going on?
“Um, yeah, I was just too hungry to wait. That raking was a lot of work.”
“Why don’t we hire someone to do the raking? I don’t want you to hurt
yourself.” And if someone else did the raking, Trevor couldn’t substitute yard work for
sex.
“Are you saying I’m incapable? I can manage the yard as well as anyone
else. I’m not fragile, you know.”
The unexpected bite in Trevor’s tone made Derrick’s nostrils flare. Fighting
wasn’t going to get them anywhere. Certainly not into bed—especially when Trevor was
wearing pajamas, and being so touchy and eating by himself. Derrick didn’t want to
fight, ever, but especially not now, when this job was kicking his ass.
“No, Trevor. I’m not saying anything of the sort.” He fought to keep
resentment out of his tone. “I’m only saying that a house is a lot of work and if we don’t
want to do it, we can afford to hire someone.”
Trevor gave him a sharp nod. They could discuss this later, when they both
weren’t pissed off. Derrick would be just as happy selling the house and moving back to
their old neighborhood, but he figured Trevor would react even worse to that
suggestion.
What was he going to do with all this food? “You sure you don’t want any
dinner? I got lots.”
“No, I’m good. You can take the extras for lunch tomorrow.”
“Right. Yes. Good idea.”
He slunk into the kitchen and stared at the take-out containers. His appetite
dwindled as he considered eating the meal by himself. Eating separately wasn’t unusual
for them. Between Luke’s intramural sports, and the conflicting demands of Trevor’s
store and his business, they didn’t have a great track record of eating together as a
couple. But he had never felt the lack more keenly. It was like he lived in this house by
himself, like both son
and
husband had moved out. His husband seemed happier not
seeing him as much as he used to in the early days. Was content with their vanilla, old-
married-couple, once-a-week sex. Didn’t want Derrick to touch him any other time.
Derrick had known from the beginning they were very different people, but
those differences had always fascinated him. Problem was, he thought their sexual
styles had been in sync. He’d thought they were both after the same thing, in life and in
their relationship. Was he wrong? Had he been too busy to notice there was something
wrong with their relationship?
Opening the nearest container, the scent of curry wafting out—so appealing
a few minutes ago—made him nauseated. He dumped the lot into the trash, took a
sleeping pill and headed to bed. A good night’s sleep would help, right? Tomorrow he’d
come up with a plan. Figure out how to fix this.
* * *
The credits rolled and Trevor realized Derrick had never come back into the den.
Trevor didn’t like anyone eating anywhere besides the kitchen—even though most of
the furniture in the house wasn’t antique, he had spent a lot of time making the house
into an attractive, inviting place. None of the furniture was cheap and there was no point
in needlessly ruining it. But he’d expected Derrick to at least return after eating and
cuddle on the couch with him, maybe watch a movie.
Stretching out his legs shifted his damned raw skin against fabric and he bit
his lip against a howl. How the fuck did anyone do this on a regular basis? He stood
and shook the folds out of his pajamas.
“Derrick, hon?”
When no answer came, he wandered into the kitchen. Strangely, there
wasn’t a trace of Derrick or his dinner. His husband was good about a lot of things but
dishes wasn’t one of them. The rich smell of curry still filled the kitchen. Maybe he could
sneak a piece of naan. Surely that wouldn’t derail his diet too much.
Head stuck in the open fridge, Trevor couldn’t see any containers from The
Palace. Derrick couldn’t have eaten all of it, could he? Surely not. He’d bought enough
for both of them. A cursory look around the kitchen didn’t solve the mystery, not until he
spied the propped-up lid of the trash can. Lifting the lid revealed the take-out containers
smashed in, so they’d fit. Food wasn’t supposed to be disposed of in the trash anyway
…should be dumped in the green bin for organic waste at the very least. But he didn’t
understand why Derrick had thrown it all out without even opening any of the containers.
Derrick loved The Palace and so did he.
“Derrick? What’s going on?” he called out. Still no answer. He shouldn’t
have snapped at Derrick. The suggestion about hiring someone to do yard work made
him wonder if Derrick thought he was too old, too decrepit, to take care of the house.
Especially after everything else. Even if that’s what Derrick thought, biting his head off
for caring about Trevor’s well-being wasn’t right.
Looking through the house, he discovered Derrick in bed and already
asleep. Trevor stood in the doorway, just staring. The fine bones of Derrick’s face were
so familiar. Those sharp cheekbones had been the reason Trevor had looked twice.
The equally sharp hip bones had drawn his tongue the first time they’d had sex…and
every time thereafter. Derrick’s wild brown hair was perfect to slide fingers in, perfect to
grip when guiding Derrick’s mouth to his dick. But it was Derrick’s enthusiasm, his
optimism and his razor-sharp brains that made Trevor love him. He knew he’d always
love Derrick no matter what… Why was he having so much trouble believing Derrick felt
the same about him?
Trevor’s cock twitched, but he ignored it, willed it to stop paying such close
attention to the naked sylph in his bed. His prick didn’t hurt, but jerking off would require
more movement than his abused skin could handle.
Poor man had been working such long hours. The few times their schedules
had coincided, Derrick had several sarcastic, uncomplimentary comments about his
new client. They hadn’t even been able to work their regular Saturday night sex date
into their schedule since Luke moved out. Trevor wondered if Derrick had been
avoiding him, but given his attention this afternoon, maybe not. Trevor was tired, too,
and he’d never been more thankful than he was now that his store had never been
open on Mondays or Tuesdays. He wasn’t looking forward to working the next day,
however.
Trevor didn’t know how long he spent watching his husband sleep before he
went back into the kitchen. As soon as he dealt with the trash, he’d slip into bed and
tuck Derrick’s slim body against his.
He pulled the food out of the trash and began separating it and rinsing out
the containers as outlined by the city’s ordinances. It still smelled great—maybe there
was a low-cholesterol Indian cookbook he could get, make some of his favorites
himself. Shit, there was a lot of food here, though. What had Derrick been thinking,
throwing it out like this? Even if Trevor had eaten, there would have been enough to
feed them two or three meals at least.
At the bottom of one of the bags was the receipt. Trevor pulled it out,
glancing at it before tossing it into the paper recycling. Then he paused and then picked
it back up. Read through the excessive list of dishes Derrick had ordered.
Pain speared his gut. Derrick had ordered all the dishes they’d served at
their wedding reception. Every single one. The Palace of Bombay had catered their
reception, and Derrick had recreated the order…not the quantity, but the assortment of
dishes. Oh, God. First this afternoon, and his inability to tell Derrick the truth about why
he didn’t want to have sex, and tonight, Derrick tried to do something sweet and
romantic and he had ruined it.
No wonder Derrick had gone to bed without telling him. God. He’d have to
make it up to him as soon as possible. Somehow. Were his upcoming dinner
reservations enough? A couple days, and he’d make sure waxing his damned groin was
worth it for both of them. He had to. Maybe Derrick would leave him because he was a
decrepit old fool, but it would be even worse if Trevor’s own actions pushed him away.
The day Derrick married him was the best day of his life, aside from the day Luke was
born. The thought of losing Derrick was utterly devastating.
With the kitchen clean and the remains of Derrick’s romantic gesture
disposed of, Trevor slipped into bed. The breathy snores told him Derrick had likely
taken a sleeping pill. Probably for the best. He’d been working hard, and Trevor knew
from past experience Derrick had a hard time shutting his brain off enough to sleep.
When he had a particularly difficult problem or client, his sleep patterns were disrupted,
and he barely slept more than a couple of hours a night.
Trevor curled his bigger body around Derrick’s, letting the warmth of his skin
seep into his bones. He was careful to keep his sore crotch away from Derrick’s
delectable bum, sure the pressure would be too painful. Muscles slowly relaxing, he
tucked his face into the soft skin at Derrick’s nape, inhaling the sweet grassy scent of
shampoo. Eyelids drooping, Trevor was about ready to let go and slip into sleep when
the phone rang.
Chapter Four
Trevor jerked and pulled his arms away from Derrick. By the second ring, he was out of
bed and he scooped up the handset on the third. Derrick didn’t even move, which told
Trevor his assumption about the sleeping pill had been correct. He was glad it hadn’t
disturbed Derrick, but just in case, he took the phone out into the hall and closed the
door behind him.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Trevor, how’s it going?”
“Barry? Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, sure, why wouldn’t it be?”
“Well, you’re calling awfully late.”
Barry laughed. “Dude, you’re becoming an old man if you think this is late!
Or are you just worn out from all the wild sex now that there’s no kid in the house?”
Trevor couldn’t even speak. Embarrassment, amusement and even a wee
bit of shock all warred for supremacy. He certainly didn’t want to discuss Barry’s
abysmally wrong conclusion.
“What? No, I mean…”
“Uh-huh. Whatever you say I won’t believe it.” Barry’s jocularity sounded
forced.
What the hell was going on? Barry wasn’t much older than Luke and
outspoken on occasion, but calling him up to tease him was out of character. Especially
since they’d be seeing each other at the store tomorrow anyway.
“Are you okay?” They hadn’t been friends long, but Barry didn’t sound right.
A long pause followed by a shuddery sniff answered him.
“Barry?”
“I’m fine. Fine. It’s just… Paul broke up with me.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize it was that serious between you.” Trevor
could almost hear the attempt at a masculine, unconcerned shrug over the phone.
“No, not really. Whatever. Anyway, we were supposed to go to the hockey
game on Sunday. Um…would you go with me instead?”
“Sure, Barry.” Barry had been so thrilled when he’d scored those tickets.
What a shame. He knew he wasn’t the guy’s only friend, but Barry’s other friends didn’t
love hockey the way the two of them did. And maybe Barry wanted to spend time with
someone who hadn’t known him and Paul as a couple.
“Seriously, though, will it be okay with Derrick?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t it?” Derrick would probably be working anyway. Be
nice to get out of the house and it had been a while since he’d been to a game; Leafs
tickets were a bitch to get.
“Okay, thanks, boss. Are you going to the gym before work tomorrow?”
“Yes.” Couldn’t let up on the workouts now. No way. Lifting weights was out,
but he could still run with his bum shoulder.
“Right. See you then.”
The call waiting beeped just as Trevor was ready to hang up and he
checked the caller ID before accepting the call.
“Luke? Is everything okay?”
“Hi, Dad. It’s fine. Why?”
“Isn’t it late for you to be calling?”
Luke laughed and Trevor flushed, déjà vu sharp and strong. He was
becoming an old man. It really wasn’t that late.
“Whatever, Dad. Just letting you know I’m coming home this weekend. My
roommate’s got a hot date Saturday night and I could bring my laundry, too.” There was
a hopeful lilt at the end of his son’s sentence, letting Trevor know the laundry was
probably more of a driving force than his roommate’s date.
“Sure thing, Luke. You know you always have a room here. Be nice to see
you. Derrick will be thrilled, too.” Which wasn’t a lie at all. Derrick’s acceptance of his
son when they’d first started dating only made it easier to fall in love. When their whole
lifestyle had to change after Luke’s mom died, Derrick’s support never wavered. It was
only now, when he realized how much older he must seem to Derrick, that he worried
his husband might be regretting the sacrifices they’d made.
“Is he there?”
Maybe if he and Cassie had ever been married, Luke’s relationship with
Derrick wouldn’t have been as easy, but it hadn’t taken Derrick long to secure his own
place as Luke’s other dad. Moving to the suburbs, getting two cars, becoming a soccer
dad and expanding their commute four-fold, were sacrifices Derrick had made with
surprising enthusiasm, helping solidify their little family.
“He’s already asleep.”
“Already?”
“Derrick’s got a crazy client right now, but I think he’s supposed to be done
with them soon, maybe by the weekend.”
“Tell him I’m bringing Orion Attack 3 home and he should prepare to lose.”
Trevor rolled his eyes. He wasn’t going to spend the entire weekend
watching his guys battle on the game console, although he wished, now more than ever,
he had any ability or desire to play. “Sure, sure. We could also go to the zoo or
something on Sunday.” There would be plenty of time before meeting Barry for the
game.
“Yeah, Dad, whatever. The zoo sounds great.” Luke was clearly humoring
his dad, but Trevor didn’t mind. It wouldn’t hurt them to spend a bit of time as a family,
find out in-depth how Luke was dealing with school and living on his own. If he’d met a
nice girl.
Trevor’s son was unabashedly straight, and had more than once said
having two gay dads was great for scoring. A fact Trevor could have done without
knowing, though it amused Derrick to no end. To be honest, it was a bit of a relief for
Trevor, as it would have created an even bigger rift between him and Cassie’s parents,
who believed homosexuality was an immoral and reprehensible choice.
“Did you need anything else besides the washing machine when you get
here? Food, clothes…”
“Well, I
am
hoping you’re going to feed me while I’m there, but no, I don’t
need anything special. It’s okay, Dad, I’m doing fine. You don’t have to worry.”
Easier said than done. The irony of him and Derrick living in the suburbs
while Luke lived in a downtown dorm, only a few short subway stops from their old
condo, was not lost on him. Trevor had good reason to know the mischief a university
kid could get up to, and the myriad of diversions and potential dangers the downtown
area offered. “Want me to come pick you up?”
“No, of course not. It hasn’t even been a month—I haven’t lost my key, you
know. If Derrick’s working during the day on Saturday, I’ll probably get there while you
guys are at work.”
“Right, well, be good, study hard, and we’ll see you this weekend.”
Luke’s only reply was a long-suffering sigh before he hung up.
Trevor returned to bed, noticing with amusement Derrick hadn’t moved an
inch. He wrapped himself around his husband again and let Derrick’s radiating warmth
lull him into sleep.
* * *
Derrick stretched. The bright sunlight was almost painful to his sleep-heavy eyes, but
felt good warming his body. He sat up and glanced at the clock.
Holy fuck. Eleven already? He needed to get into the office if he wanted to
have a prayer of getting home tonight at a reasonable hour. Although, yesterday that
hadn’t worked out as well as he might have hoped. He flopped back into the pillows and
scowled.
Had Trevor slept beside him last night? He hadn’t been happy with Trevor,
but he wasn’t angry enough to want to sleep apart. Besides, if he’d
told
Trevor he’d
planned to do something special for dinner last night, Trevor wouldn’t have messed it up
for him.
Unless Trevor was actively avoiding him.
He didn’t think Trevor would actually sleep with anyone else while they were
still married, but what if he’d developed feelings for someone else? Wasn’t one of the
signs decreased sexual activity? Avoidance of intimacy? And Derrick hadn’t been
around much, giving Trevor lots of opportunities to get his head turned by someone
new.
Just thinking about it made him cringe. If it weren’t for Underwood’s
overtures, the thought would never have entered Derrick’s mind. Underwood had made
another pass at him yesterday, right after Derrick had found out the guy was already in
a relationship, making it doubly abhorrent. It made him worry, messed with his head.
Shit, he had to get this job out the door. Next job it didn’t matter how much money he
was offered—if there were any come-ons, Derrick would be shutting them down like he
would a troll in a club, then subcontract that fucker out.
Sighing, he swung out of bed, and walked naked to the room he and Trevor
shared as an office. Neither of them used it for much besides checking email, paying
bills and shit, but Trevor did keep a computer there, and Derrick’s laptop was usually
there, as well.
He sat down on Trevor’s chair, the suede soft against his ass. Trevor would
fucking freak if he knew Derrick was sitting naked in his fancy desk chair, but today,
Derrick didn’t care. This was the penalty for wearing pajamas to bed last night. Before
Luke, they’d both slept naked. As a concession to Trevor’s son’s sensibilities, they’d
both taken to wearing underwear to bed, but the day after Luke moved out, Derrick had
returned to the buff. Not that Trevor seemed to notice. And pajamas were only reserved
for when one of them was ill, for God’s sake. Trevor hadn’t been sick, not that he could
tell.
Derrick turned on Trevor’s computer. Was he really going to do this? Had
he suddenly become one of those insecure, jealous, too-old-to-be-called-a-twink twinks
he’d always made fun of when he was younger?
He stared for long minutes at the login screen. He stared so long it blinked
out into the screensaver. He couldn’t fucking believe it, but yes, he was going to do it.
Trevor’s behavior was making him neurotic.
Swift fingers flew over the keyboard. His husband wasn’t exactly a mystery.
Derrick had known all of his passwords forever. None of them had changed, which was
a good sign. Trevor might not be great with computers but he knew how to change a
password. Changing passwords would have been the first concrete indicator Trevor
was hiding something.
He couldn’t stop himself from checking Trevor’s email and calendar, though.
After sifting through a whole lot of garbage—clearly he needed to update Trevor’s spam
filters and probably his security software—the only emails from people he didn’t
recognize were all work-related. There were a number of emails from one of their
friends, Scott, who’d tried to get them to engage in a threesome more than once.
Derrick didn’t trust Scott for a second, and he read all of those emails going back a
couple of months, but he didn’t see anything suspicious in the correspondence. There
weren’t any emails from gay dating sites or hook-up sites. Nothing of a sexual nature at
all.
The only things out of the ordinary were a notation in the calendar for
someone named Marco and a doctor’s appointment for Trevor’s yearly physical. The
only Marco he knew was the one working with Chris at the spa, but Trevor never went
to the spa and he’d never heard Trevor speak of a Marco. Derrick wavered between
jealousy and the more logical response that Trevor wasn’t anal enough to actually book
an affair into his calendar. He’d probably attempt to be a little more clandestine. Marco
had to be a customer or a possible hire for the store.
He should be relieved. Trevor wasn’t devious enough, nor tech savvy
enough, to hide incriminating emails. In fact, judging from the ridiculous contents of both
sent mail and trash, his husband was not even aware of the existence of those folders.
There wasn’t one suspicious email in the lot. Derrick checked their home phone
records online, as well as Trevor’s cell phone, but there was nothing out of the ordinary.
Unless Trevor was doing it totally old-school, making assignations over his work phone,
his husband was not cheating. Strangely, the knowledge didn’t ease his mind as much
as he thought it would.
Derrick sighed. He was fucking pathetic. He should just confront…no, not
confront. He didn’t want to accuse Trevor of anything. He just wanted to know what the
fuck was going on. If everything was okay. But he couldn’t bring himself to ask, because
even though their relationship felt strained, and they’d had nothing but infrequent, vanilla
sex—good, but plain—Derrick was afraid bringing the issues out into the open would be
accompanied by a truth he didn’t want to hear.
In the early days, he’d been skinny—scrawny, even—but Trevor had looked
at him with such desire, such love. It was like winning the fucking lottery. Derrick hadn’t
filled out much in the years since. The gym helped some, but he’d never be buff like
Trevor. Lately it seemed as though Trevor only gazed at him with uncertainty and
Derrick couldn’t pinpoint when that change occurred. What if it wasn’t an affair? Maybe
Trevor just wasn’t attracted to him anymore.
Even worse, what if Trevor didn’t love him anymore? It hadn’t been easy to
accept that a gorgeous, interesting, successful guy had been interested in a skinny
geek like him, but Trevor had convinced him. Now, the old doubts and insecurities were
creeping back in, getting stronger every day. Relationships weren’t clear-cut like
programming and he wasn’t sure what the right approach was. Next time they had more
than five minutes of face time together, he’d have to determine if they needed to talk,
although he dreaded the conversation.
Crap. He’d spent over an hour spying on his husband. He was a shit, and he
was going to be late for a meeting. They were heading into the final stretch on this
project and Derrick had no intention of letting it go on any longer than it had to.
Chapter Five
God. Saturday already. It sucked working ten hours on a Saturday, although it was a
shorter day than any this week since Tuesday. The rest of the week wasn’t shaping up
to be any better, but he should be done by the coming Friday. He’d better be done by
Friday or he might actually kill Underwood. Derrick maneuvered his car into the garage
beside Trevor’s. Good. He was home early enough that Trevor ought to still be awake.
His husband hadn’t worked Sunday in a couple of years, so tonight and
tomorrow were for him and Trevor. Underwood could fucking wait another day if
needed. Derrick wasn’t working tomorrow and they were going to do something fun
together. Maybe the museum. Wasn’t as much fun for him, but he loved how much
Trevor loved it. No errands or household chores. Just him and Trevor. They could talk if
they needed to, but if he could put that off a little longer, at least until Underwood was
history, he would. He was still afraid to talk. Afraid of what he’d be told.
Tonight, though, after a shower, he’d convince his husband to sleep with him.
Seriously…who turned down a blowjob? Trevor’s dick was gorgeous, and sucking it
wasn’t a hardship. Blowjobs were a specialty of Derrick’s—more than one guy had
been annoyed when he’d stopped playing around to be exclusive with Trevor.
If he could at least share one orgasm with Trevor, he’d be able to make it
until the end of this job without losing his fucking mind. What he really wanted was for
Trevor to take charge and fuck him unconscious, but they could work up to that.
Probably he’d pass out from shock if Trevor even suggested tying him to the bed. As
much as he wanted it, they’d have to use Derrick’s work ties—all their good cuffs and
whatnot had been ditched and never replaced. He would gladly donate every single one
of his ties to the cause if it meant Trevor would tie him up, tease him and then fuck him
silly.
They could order a pizza—maybe Derrick would even put some of their
favorite porn on the TV, warm things up a bit. His cock swelled in his pants as he
imagined sliding to the floor between Trevor’s legs and sucking him off while someone
onscreen was getting fucked from both ends. Or fucking someone’s mouth deep and
hard. Or getting spanked. Their
special
DVDs had gone the way of the handcuffs, but
Derek had long ago modified his laptop to display on the TV. It would be a matter of
moments to queue up a decent flick.
He could coax Trevor to lean back, spread his legs, and Derrick wouldn’t be
confined to just a dick. Derrick could feast on balls and taint and hole—make his
husband so damned hot and crazy he’d grab Derrick’s head and shove his cock in his
mouth as far as it would go before unloading his spunk, deep in his throat.
Derrick’s hand slipped to his crotch, the heat of his erection bleeding
through the cloth. And he realized he was doing it again. Fantasizing about his husband
through the cloth. And he realized he was doing it again. Fantasizing about his husband
when he was mere feet from making the fantasy a reality. It had to turn out better than
the yard-raking incident. Just had to. If nothing else, inside the house they’d be free of
the prying eyes Trevor was so afraid of.
Erection distending his pants, Derrick let himself in the house.
“Babe, I’m home.”
“We’re in here,” Trevor called from the den.
We? Derrick’s cock wilted a bit. Who the hell was here?
He stopped in the doorway.
“Hey, Derrick.”
“Hi, Luke. Um…it’s good to see you.” Blood fled from his cock like it was
running for its life, returning his groin to its previous quiescent state.
Trevor and Luke both gave him identical smiles, though Luke didn’t much
resemble his father. He loved Luke like a son, and although he’d missed the kid, he
couldn’t help but wonder if Trevor had convinced Luke to come home this weekend as a
buffer. Shit, Derrick’s work had been so fucked up, he hadn’t even laid eyes on Trevor
while they were both awake since the aborted dinner incident.
“We’ve got a couple of movies. We were just waiting for you to get home
before making popcorn.” Trevor brandished a couple of DVD boxes.
A muscle in Derrick’s jaw flexed, as he realized there would be no need for
the movie
he’d
intended the two of them to watch.
Luke stood up and gave him a hug. Which he returned, wholeheartedly.
“What are you doing home?” Because he couldn’t not ask. Even if the
answer pissed him off.
“Trying to not cramp my roommate’s style. I brought Orion Attack 3, but I
thought you’d be home earlier. Wanted to avoid getting your butt kicked, right?” Luke’s
eyebrows waggled and Derrick grinned at the kid, wishing he’d come home earlier.
He’d really missed kicking Luke’s ass at their favorite first person shooters.
Trevor was hopeless at video games, and the game console had given Derrick and
Luke a way to connect when Luke had come to live with them. They’d made it a habit to
play almost every week.
“Hey, if I’d known, I would have done my best.”
“I
told
Dad to tell you.”
Why hadn’t Trevor mentioned Luke was coming home? Derrick turned his
gaze on his husband.
“Uh…” Trevor got that deer-in-headlights look he got when he knew he’d
fucked up.
The silence stretched out, becoming tense and awkward. “Derrick? Dad?
What’s going on?”
Derrick drew in a deep breath. “Nothing, Luke. Just been a long week. I’m
going to have a shower, and we can start up the movie.” Hopefully that would be long
enough to wrap his head around a fun family evening instead of the debauchery he was
hoping for.
“Are you sure you want to bother? Dad’s decided we’re going to the zoo
tomorrow, and it’s supposed to be hot as hell,” Luke informed him with a conspiratorial
grin.
“We’re going to the zoo tomorrow.” Derrick’s nostrils flared. Wouldn’t be the
first time Trevor had unilaterally decided on a family outing.
Trevor gave him an apologetic smile. “Can you take the time off? Spend the
day with us?”
Did Trevor truly want him there? He wasn’t sure anymore.
“Maybe we could go somewhere nice for dinner?” Derrick asked. They
could salvage
something
of his plans, couldn’t they? But Trevor’s face got that damn
deer-in-headlights look again.
“I’m supposed to go to the hockey game with Barry. I was going to drop Luke
off at the dorm on my way so he doesn’t have to take the subway back.”
“Barry?” All his fears returned, squeezing his belly, stealing his breath. Was
Barry, Trevor’s new friend and employee, gay? Derrick hadn’t bothered to find out, but
being thrown together with a cutie like Barry could maybe turn Trevor’s head.
“Yeah, he was supposed to go with his boyfriend, but they broke up and he
asked me to go. I just assumed you’d be working. I’m sorry, hon.”
Derrick bit his lip, forced himself to breathe. So, Barry
was
gay. Still, he’d
seen Trevor’s guilty look before and he wasn’t looking at it now. He refused to have a
jealous freak-out.
Luke frowned at him. This was the kid’s home. Making him uncomfortable in
it, bringing him into the tension between them, was unforgivable.
Derrick escaped the room.
* * *
“Dad, what was that all about?”
Trevor wasn’t sure what was worse: Luke’s disapproving look or Derrick’s
hurt one. Both of them were like a punch in the gut. He wasn’t sure what he’d done. Yes,
he’d forgotten Luke’s instructions, but their son coming home shouldn’t be a problem for
Derrick. And no, he hadn’t mentioned his plans with Barry. He’d assumed he’d be on his
own the whole weekend.
If they’d seen each other over the past couple of days, it would have come
up. Maybe. But he didn’t know why having plans when he expected Derrick to be busy
was an issue or why it put him in the doghouse with both husband and son.
“Derrick and I haven’t seen each other much since the last time you and I
talked.”
Luke cocked his head to the side, confused. “What do you mean?”
“I told you, he’s been busy. His current client is a pain.”
His son rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Oh my God, Dad. Don’t you
know anything?”
It had been a long time since Luke had given him his patented
you’re the
stupidest person I know
tone.
“What?”
“I think I should go. I’ll crash with Steve or Jack.”
“No! Why?” Spending the weekend with Luke was going to be a great buffer.
His balls were better, but he needed another day or two to ensure he didn’t look mottled
and red and
diseased.
So unsexy and so fucking humiliating.
“I think Derrick was hoping for some alone time with you.” His son glanced
away.
“Don’t be ridiculous. We’ve got plenty of time to be alone.”
Luke gave him a skeptical look. “I mean, I think he was hoping to have a
date night or something.”
Oh. Alone time. Trevor’s cheeks heated, as well. He sure as hell wasn’t
going to discuss his sex life with his son, especially since he was sure Luke was
mistaken.
“We didn’t have any plans. I told you, he’s been busy. In fact, I’m surprised
he’s able to come to the zoo tomorrow.”
“Dad, is there something wrong? Is everything okay with you and Derrick?”
“Everything’s fine. Why would you ask that?” God. Was he that obvious?
He’d have to do better. Maybe that was part of why Derrick had been acting so
strangely. Maybe he’d been too transparent. One more day should see the last of the
reaction to the waxing. Then he could at least relax about that.
Derrick returned, hair still wet and curling about his ears. Fine lines of
discontent bracketed his mouth, but he smiled and settled on the couch.
“What are we watching?”
Trevor couldn’t take his eyes off his husband, wondering when things had
gotten to the point that he didn’t feel comfortable reaching out and wrapping an arm
around Derrick.
“You could teach me how to play this Orion Attack game.” He knew how
much they enjoyed their video games, and if he learned, maybe it would give him more
common ground with Derrick, be something they could do together.
But the incredulous looks both Luke and Derrick turned on him were
…unflattering at best.
“Dad, let’s just watch a movie.”
Trevor nodded, feeling useless and pathetic, drowning under the tension
Luke no longer seemed to notice. He settled back into the couch and watched the
movie, but he didn’t remember any of it.
* * *
Silence filled the dark room as they climbed into bed together, both wearing underwear.
Derrick lay on his back, muscles stiff, listening to Trevor breathe. He knew, somehow,
that even their customary Saturday night sex wasn’t on the table. It shouldn’t matter if
Luke was in the house for that. But they hadn’t had sex since Luke had moved out,
which was almost as bad as when they’d moved Luke in with them five years before.
They’d gone without sex for months then. Luke’s nightmares had no discernable pattern
and neither of them had been able to concentrate on anything sexual until Luke had
settled into his new life and Derrick had taught him the importance of warnings. Only
after he’d convinced Trevor that Luke would at least knock before entering their
bedroom had sexual relations resumed…in their Saturday night after-Luke-was-asleep
format.
Luke had apologized earlier, in between movies when Trevor had gone to
the bathroom. While Derrick appreciated the gesture, Luke hadn’t done anything wrong,
and none of this was Luke’s fault. But the strain between him and Trevor was obvious to
Luke, and Derrick hadn’t known how to respond when Luke had questioned him about it.
How could he tell Trevor’s son he was afraid Trevor no longer wanted him? Surely that
wasn’t appropriate, even if Luke didn’t mind discussing his dads’ sex life.
The stucco ceiling gradually came into view above the bed as Derrick’s
eyes became accustomed to the darkness. He wanted to roll over, wanted to reach out
and touch Trevor, slide a hand up his thigh. Only the worry he might find Trevor limp and
unresponsive kept him from doing it. He’d put off confirming his fears as long as
possible because facing the fact that Trevor truly wasn’t interested made his stomach
clench.
Derrick would have to put on a happy face and have a nice family outing
tomorrow. And try to forget he had several days’ worth of work to finish out this stupid
job. If this was all he could have, he should savor it.
* * *
Derrick swiped the back of his hand across his forehead. Luke had forecasted
correctly, and it was hot as hell.
“Why, exactly, do we do this every time? We should skip this part.”
The Canada Domain of the zoo was situated at the far end of the property,
at the bottom of a rather large hill, and made for a long fucking walk.
Luke rolled his eyes and headed straight for the grizzly bear enclosure. “I
like watching the bears play with the balls.”
Trevor glanced at him, and they both bit their lips. Really not appropriate to
be laughing about bears and balls with their son in earshot, but the section was fraught
with bad jokes for two gay men. The bears, both grizzly and polar, were always Luke’s
favorite animals, and his dads always tried to hide their childish snickering.
Derrick relaxed a little, seeing Trevor’s smile. He waved at a nearby warning
informing the public about the correct protocol should they encounter a wild bear.
Anywhere else, and he’d assume the sign was designed to add atmosphere, but the
Canada Domain sat in a large forested area. Encountering wildlife wasn’t impossible.
“You know, I hate this sign. Honestly, if there are actual real, live wild bears out here,
they should have the warning at the top of the hill, not at the bottom. Makes it so much
harder to run for your life.”
With a devilish glint in his eye, Trevor glanced back at Luke to ensure the
kid was out of earshot before he whispered, “You’re not afraid of getting
eaten
by a
bear,
are you?”
Derrick snorted at the innuendo and slapped a hand over his mouth to stifle
his laughter. Still funny, after all these years. And still no way he wanted to explain to
Luke what was so funny, if Luke even needed it explained at his age.
Some of the bitter tension left his belly. This was more like the relationship
he’d come to rely on.
“Okay, we can go now,” Luke said as he sauntered back. “Derrick, you’re
not bitching about that sign again, are you?”
Derrick shrugged and grinned. “You know how I feel about it.”
They started the climb up a hill that loomed above them, longer and steeper
than it appeared on the way down.
“Yeah, well, Dad’s the old man here.
He’s
the one who should be worried.”
“Oh, sure.” Derrick stared at his feet, concentrating on putting one in front
of the other and trying to keep from panting. Luke had no clue how much Trevor worked
out. He could probably run up this damned hill and not be a bit out of breath. Derrick’s
work had cut into his gym time substantially, and this hill illustrated the lack all too clearly.
At least both of them ceased talking for the time being, because Derrick wasn’t going to
be able to answer.
He rubbed his stomach. He wasn’t as skinny as he used to be. The gym
needed to become a bigger priority.
At the top of the hill, he inhaled deeply, glad of the trees shading his flushed
face. Luke loped ahead with more energy than either he or Trevor had these days, and
Derrick turned to Trevor.
The cramping ache returned to his gut. Trevor no longer wore the open,
happy expression he’d had at the bottom of the hill. For a few minutes, Derrick had
thought they were getting back to normal, but now, he had no idea what was wrong.
“Are you okay? You weren’t really having any problems getting up the hill,
were you?” The last thing Derrick wanted was for Trevor to hurt himself again.
“I’m fine.” Trevor’s curt tone was like a lash across his back.
Derrick drew away. “Okay, um, how about we head to the restaurant and
grab a snack and a cold drink?”
“Let’s go.”
With those clipped words, Trevor started along the path. Derrick stared at
his husband’s retreating form, and his numbed limbs had nothing to do with physical
exertion.
* * *
Trevor insisted on buying the food and drinks and was not pleased by Derrick’s offer of
assistance, so Derrick sat at the table with Luke and waited. The day had been going
so well, but something happened, and Trevor was as closed off as ever.
“I’m going to the can,” Luke said.
Derrick nodded, and kept watching Trevor, not only for the eye-candy value,
but hoping he’d be able to figure out what was wrong.
A slender young man with black hair stood in line ahead of Trevor. When he
completed his transaction and turned to leave, he almost fell over Trevor.
Trevor steadied the guy—cute, now that Derrick could see his face—by
grasping his biceps, somehow managing to keep everything on the tray upright. Trevor
gave the guy a bright smile, the likes Derrick hadn’t seen in a while, and they chatted for
a moment. Every second Trevor kept his hands attached to the stranger, Derrick’s
molars ground harder against each other. After what seemed forever the guy left, taking
his tray with him.
Derrick’s sigh of relief turned to a strangled cough as Trevor swiveled his
head to check out the guy’s ass. Normally, that wouldn’t have bothered Derrick, but the
kid was built a lot like Derrick had been, back when he and Trevor were dating. Derrick
wasn’t fat, but neither was he the bony beanpole he’d been once upon a time. Did
Trevor wish he still was?
Luke sat back down and Derrick resolutely turned his attention to the kid,
determined to enjoy what remained of the day.
* * *
Derrick had some time to kill before he needed to be in the office. Tonight he was
ditching this shitty Underwood project, thank fuck. One day early, even. He’d forecasted
Friday, but assuming the launch tonight went as smoothly as expected, he’d be done.
Trevor’s store was close by. Maybe they could at least go to lunch. Talk
some. Because things were getting awkward. Uncomfortable. Just plain depressing.
Their zoo outing a few days ago hadn’t improved anything. And he was so horny he
could cry. After dreaming about Trevor fucking him on the kitchen table, even
masturbating in the shower this morning hadn’t done much to sate him. If Trevor had
been home, he might have attacked, hoping he could coax some interest from Trevor.
The bell over the door rang as Derrick pushed into the store. Trevor’s store
was a cool place, even though the only electronics were the cash register, stereo and
the customized computer and security cameras he’d installed for his husband. He
rarely did retail security systems, but he’d wanted to make sure Trevor and his store
were as protected as possible.
Places like Winslow’s were not Derrick’s usual comfort zone, but the store
was so closely tied to Trevor’s personality, he couldn’t help but give a little sigh. Almost
like coming home. It even smelled like Trevor. Or, more probably, the dry, spicy scent in
the store transferred itself to Trevor’s clothes and skin. Funny. He’d never have
expected someone so focused on the past to be such a perfect complement to him, but
until the past couple of weeks, they’d been perfectly in sync, despite their vastly
different interests.
He scanned the length and breadth of the store, and saw Trevor speaking
earnestly with a customer. He waved at Trevor’s assistant, Gemma, and meandered,
checking out the new merchandise. Down another aisle, he came across Barry. Cute,
young
Barry.
He had definitely made a mistake not getting to know Barry better.
“Hey, there.”
“Hi, Derrick, nice to see you.” Barry’s pleasure sounded genuine. How old
was this kid? Twenty-four? Twenty-five?
“How are you? Trevor told me about Paul.” Which meant Barry was now
single.
“Oh, I’m doing okay.”
Barry sniffed and fiddled with a small wooden toy on a nearby shelf. Derrick
chose not to comment on the sudden shimmer that appeared in his eyes.
“Good. I was hoping you could help me out with something.”
“Sure, what?” Barry spoke with no reluctance at all.
“Can you help Gemma come up with a way to clear Trevor’s schedule for a
few days around his birthday? I’d like to take him away somewhere, as a surprise.”
Barry flashed him a genuine smile. “Of course. The boss man’s been
working way too hard these days. He needs a vacation.”
Relieved, Derrick smiled back. Barry wouldn’t be so happy about him
planning a vacation if he had any ideas about getting in Trevor’s pants. No way was
Trevor having an affair with Barry. Which meant he was no closer to figuring out the
reason for Trevor’s aloofness. The vacation would help, though. It had to.
“Thanks.”
Another customer appeared, and Derrick left Barry to help them out.
Rounding a corner, he stopped suddenly. In front of him was the most
luscious leather couch he’d ever seen. Low back, dark reddish-black leather, shiny yet
supple looking, divots at regular intervals where leather-covered buttons pulled in the
cushioning, and brassy rivets fastening the leather to the rounded arms. The low back
would be the perfect height to rest his arms on—while naked, knees on the seat and
ass spread for Trevor behind him.
A slow pulse beat in his groin as he reached out to touch. The slick leather
under his hand was cool and warm at the same time, pliable under his fingertips. His
cock filled further, as he pictured himself spread out across it, in various positions. He
sat down, his breath coming short as he imagined his bare ass in the same spot. Most
of the information on the card he didn’t understand, but he’d heard of Chesterfields and
the name of the color, ox-blood, made him want to stroke off right here in the store. The
price left him gasping, and not in a good way. Trevor would never consent to giving up
this profit to bring the piece to their house. Not when it didn’t fit into Trevor’s regimented
décor, not even the den.
Derrick had never understood people who fell in love with furniture or any
inanimate objects…aside from computers, that was. He wasn’t exactly in love, but in
lust? Definitely.
He sat there for several minutes enjoying the feel and scent of the couch,
cock heavy in his pants, until he saw Trevor’s customer pass by the aisle on the way to
the exit. Sighing, he stood, reluctant to leave the couch. He’d rather go to lunch with
Trevor than sit, starving, with an erection he couldn’t take care of. Neither was going
give him an orgasm right now, anyway. Sad but true.
Pausing for a few minutes, resolutely not looking at the couch, he willed his
erection to subside. The blatant reminder of what he and Trevor hadn’t enjoyed in
weeks would be awkward here in the store. Although Trevor would have to look below
his damned belt for him to notice, and Derrick hadn’t seen so much as a stray glance in
that direction since Luke moved out. The thought was depressing enough to deflate him
like a three-day-old party balloon.
When Derrick rounded the corner, Trevor smiled at him and waved him
over.
“Hi, hon, I thought I saw you come in. What are you doing here?”
It was a reasonable question. But recent events made Derrick assess
every nuance of each word to determine if there was a hidden meaning behind it. He
didn’t like becoming suspicious.
“Just wondering if you wanted to go to lunch.”
Trevor’s face fell, and Derrick knew the answer was “no” before Trevor
even opened his mouth. But was it genuine disappointment or yet another way to avoid
him?
“I’m sorry, I can’t. Remember that buying trip I went on in July? The shipment
arrived yesterday and it needs to be unpacked and entered into the inventory. I’m
swamped. I’ll probably have to work Sunday and Monday, too, maybe even Tuesday.”
Derrick bit his lip to keep himself from saying something. Because whatever
came out wouldn’t be good. He was sure of that. His first weekend off in months, no job
he had to personally take care of, and Trevor
conveniently
had to work through his
customary days off.
Trevor smiled a bit…hesitantly? Derrick couldn’t decipher his husband’s
expression. “We could go for dinner tonight? Just the two of us.”
God. If only that meant they’d be reconnecting in a very physical, sweaty
way. But Derrick had a feeling it really was a dinner invitation, nothing more. Not
something he’d normally pass up—he wasn’t the sort of person who needed sex as a
motivator. He loved spending time with Trevor. It was just, lately, the more he spent time
with Trevor, the more he felt his husband was no longer happy. No longer wanted him
…not like he used to, and not the way Derrick wanted him.
“I can’t. We’re doing the final launch of the system for Underwood tonight. I
probably won’t be home until late. Two or three, maybe later.”
“Oh.”
At least he sounded genuinely disappointed and hadn’t used the dreaded
words “we have to talk.”
“Well, I guess I’ll see you…later.” He gave Trevor a quick kiss on the cheek
and left before he started fucking crying. He wasn’t going in to work all teary-eyed.
Chapter Six
Standing outside Winslow’s at midnight made Derrick feel more exposed than if he’d
streaked naked down Queen Street. As long as the cops didn’t come by he’d be fine.
At least Trevor hadn’t changed any of his security codes, and Derrick had
had the keys as back-up for a long time.
Derrick had sat in his office, all alone, uploading the final work for his client,
while the developers called in to a conference call, ensuring everything flipped to the
new system without a hitch. Late-night launches sucked, but they were a necessity to
ensure the downtime had the lowest possible impact on the client’s business.
Considering what a pain in the ass this particular client was, the final launch went
perfectly, leaving Derrick a lot of time sitting around while the developers tested the new
system. And his thoughts kept returning to the sinful leather couch.
From the couch, he’d moved to fantasizing about Trevor, and then an idea
had hit him just as he was getting into the car.
He didn’t bother turning on lights. There was enough ambient light from the
streetlights to see by, and he really, really didn’t want a curious cop to stop by. His goal
was the area near Trevor’s office. It was hidden from the street because Trevor kept
the valuable baubles there and didn’t want to tempt thieves casing the building from the
outside. Perfect for his purposes.
He found the couch and dragged it to where he wanted it. A few Tiffany
lamps provided suitable mood lighting and he turned on the stereo system. Sleepy
instrumental music filled the store. Wrong. Completely wrong. Derrick needed
something sexy, something to get his pulse pounding. He’d feel ridiculous stripping to
Bach, or whatever this stuff was. Nine Inch Nails would be more suitable.
Once he had the stage set, Derrick moved to Trevor’s office to adjust the
camera’s position.
After a few mouse clicks, the system was ready. He sat back in Trevor’s
desk chair. Was he really going to do this?
Yeah, he was. He’d run out of ideas and he didn’t want to lose Trevor, but if
they couldn’t reignite that spark…or more importantly, if he couldn’t reignite Trevor’s
desire for him…their relationship didn’t have much hope for survival. Trevor was all he’d
ever wanted, and until recently he’d thought his husband felt the same about him.
If he’d planned this little break-in, he could have bought some toys but as
spur of the moment as this was, he’d have to do without.
Then he took his focus off the computer and surveyed Trevor’s office. A
huge vase of peacock feathers stood in the corner. Trevor once said they usually had
more of the damned things than he could sell. A feather would do nicely. What else? He
opened the desk drawers and found a nice cocoa-butter lotion. Yep. He could make
use of that too. A low, throbbing pulse thrummed through his cock as he got into the
mindset. This show would blow his husband’s mind.
He grabbed his props and opened the door. The couch sat, center stage,
almost like a spotlight was on it, calling to him, making him want to strip down and writhe
on it.
Moving slowly, slinking as though he were walking through a crowded dance
club, inviting the stares of other men, Derrick approached the couch and placed his
props in the corner.
Then he turned and faced the camera and imagined the lens was Trev.
He blew a kiss at the camera before he stroked his torso; long, sensual
strokes, pausing for a rub at both nipples, the fabric between his fingers adding a
delicious little bite. His left hand stayed on his nipple, but both his attention and right
hand strayed to the bulge in his jeans. Eyes closed, he thrust his hips against his hand,
imagining hot eyes on him.
He shed his T-shirt and brought both hands back to pinch his pebbled
nipples. His breath came faster and his cock leaked in his jeans. It was fate. The one
day he went commando to work due to a laundry crisis was the day he was stripping
down for Trevor.
Looking directly into the camera he licked his lips and moved his hips
sinuously to the dark, sexy music. He squeezed his cock briefly through the jeans,
making himself gasp. Flicking open the top button allowed the damp tip of his cock to
peek out, flushed and anxious. He swiped a thumb across the slit and stuck it in his
mouth, sucking suggestively as he continued to stare at the camera.
He unzipped and let his jeans fall to his feet. As tempted as he was to wrap
his fingers around his shaft and stroke, the Trevor he was hoping to arouse wouldn’t
want him to touch. Not yet.
As he stepped backward out of the pool of fabric, cool leather pressed
against his legs and his cock jumped. He sat down, the creak of leather muffled by the
music, but noticeable. Being naked on this furniture, in front of a camera, made him feel
decadent and deviant all at the same time. The goose bumps covering his neck had
nothing to do with temperature.
He dragged the feather over his nipples, closed his eyes again and
imagined Trevor standing over him, feather in hand.
He stroked the feather down, sternum to belly, neatly skirting his cock,
tickled the sensitive skin along his side, then across to his hip bones then back up his
side to his chest. He switched hands and repeated the motion on his other side.
Bending his knees and splaying them outward gave him a new canvas. He
drew the feather up the inside of one thigh, then the other, completely avoiding his balls,
making himself wait, making himself desperate, exactly like Trevor used to do when they
never had to worry about interruptions.
Moisture leaked steadily from the tip of his cock to cool on his belly and he
wanted to grab his cock, jack until he came, but if Trevor was really here, really doing
this, he wouldn’t allow it.
Now, though, he could tickle his balls with the feather, the light sensation
drawing a moan from deep within his chest. Aching for a touch, a fuck, a suck, Derrick
thrust his hips up, but this was for Trevor and Trevor liked to make him wait…the
anticipation, the delay made the Trevor’s touch on his cock feel so exquisite he’d cry
out in ecstatic agony. Then, when Trevor teased him and brought him to the brink, he’d
pull back for a moment before letting Derrick have the prize—an orgasm so good he
would almost pass out.
His cock throbbed and jerked, begging for a touch, but he didn’t give in.
Trevor wouldn’t let him. He brought the feather as close as he dared, groaning at the
tease, amazed he could so easily imagine Trevor taunting him like this. Derrick pictured
his husband naked, feather engaged in its nefarious teasing while his other hand firmly
stroked his thick cock. Not being able to touch back…yeah, that was another diabolical
torment Trevor sometimes used. Making Derrick watch as Trevor pleasured himself. In
fact, that was one of the reasons he’d thought of this particular scenario.
But it had been too long. If he didn’t move things along, he was going to end
up coming all over, before he was ready, before he gave Trevor a sex show like no
other, just from imagining his husband tickling his damn balls with a feather.
With a sultry grin at the camera, Derrick set aside the feather and picked up
the cocoa butter. After slicking his fingers with it, he knelt on the couch and leaned over
the back, ass spread in invitation toward the camera. As he slid a finger inside his tight
pucker, he pressed his nose to the leather couch. The normal scent of leather was
muted and mixed with cologne, whiskey and a hazy hint of cigar. Maybe his mind was
playing tricks on him, but the smell was intoxicating.
His finger moved in and out…and his dick cried out for attention. Attention
Derrick was determined not to give it.
He couldn’t forget the silent watcher behind him. Derrick twisted to look over
his shoulder, stared at the camera and pulled his finger out of his ass. So empty. He
lightly circled the pucker, hips thrusting eagerly, until he couldn’t stand it anymore and
pushed two fingers in. Groaning, he couldn’t stop wishing they were really Trevor’s
fingers. He pushed his hips back, eager to fill his hole, and began a rhythmic in and out
with his fingers. Hot and tight and coated with sweat, his body pushed against his hand
as he added another finger.
God. So close. So fucking close. He yanked his fingers out, gasping, and
squeezed his eyes shut, forcing back the explosion. It would ruin the whole climax of the
show if he came too soon.
His breath gusted heavily as he retreated bit by bit, away from the precipice.
Flipping over, he spread his legs, giving the camera a slutty eyeful of his
stretched hole. When he was calm enough…although
calm
was a relative term, he
slicked his hand again, pulled his knees back even farther and slipped those three
fingers back inside himself with a contented sigh.
Finally, he wrapped his other hand around his aching cock and moaned. He
was too wired to coordinate his thrusts and strokes…his rhythm vanished as he raced
for the finish, balls high and tight, primed and ready to unload.
Faster and faster his hands moved. With a long, loud groan, he arched his
back, head resting on the low back of the couch as spunk pumped from his cock with
almost painful jerks. When he could breathe again without gasping, he brought his jizz-
covered hand to his mouth and licked his fingers clean, gaze glued to the camera the
whole time. He swiped up the mess splattered over his belly and chest and brought that
to his mouth, as well. Sucking on his fingers, he let the digits from his other hand slide
out his body.
Head lolling to the side, he noticed a droplet of spunk on the glossy leather
near his head. He gave Trevor—the camera—a wicked grin. Stretching his neck, he
stuck out his tongue and licked up the pearly droplet.
Love you,
he mouthed at the camera.
He quickly dressed and picked up the feather and lotion before flashing
another smile at the camera.
* * *
Back in Trevor’s office, he sliced and diced the security feed, setting it up to open and
start playing when Trevor logged on. Requiring a click before starting—as a concession
to modesty—might have been wise, but he was concerned his husband might have
actually listened to him about not clicking on random things popping up on his computer.
He wanted Trevor to call him because he was so hot for Derrick that he was going to
come home in the middle of the day, not call him worried about a hacker or phisher or
other sort of computer intrusion. His schedule was light enough, now that the
Underwood job was complete, he could leave the office at a moment’s notice…even if
that moment occurred at nine in the morning. Or, well, as soon as he got in the office. It
was late enough there wasn’t much chance he’d be in the office before eleven, so if he
heard from Trevor before that, he just wouldn’t go in to work tomorrow.
Finally, for a hint of foreshadowing, he laid the feather across the keyboard
and placed the lotion beside the pen holder. Just enough out of the ordinary to get
Trevor thinking. Then he left the office and pushed the couch back to its original
location. He was almost afraid to go home, because he’d probably give away that he’d
been up to something, but even if Trevor was still awake—highly unlikely—he hadn’t
seemed to be aware of Derrick lately. This video had to change things. Vanilla sex for
the rest of his life with a man he loved was a sacrifice he would be willing to make, but
hanging on desperately to a man who no longer wanted him… How could he do that?
After tomorrow he’d know one way or another if there was hope for him and
Trevor. Derrick wished with all his heart this stunt would bring his husband back to him.
It had to. He wasn’t sure how he’d survive with half his soul missing.
Chapter Seven
Trevor missed Derrick. He hated the nights he ate alone, went to sleep alone, woke up
alone. Well, he hadn’t exactly woken up alone, but Derrick hadn’t gotten in until the wee
hours of the night. He’d been sound asleep all through Trevor’s preparations for work,
and even the smell of brewing coffee hadn’t roused him. Hopefully, now that Derrick
was done with that demanding client, things would get better. Hopefully things were not
to the point where Derrick was ready to ditch his older husband. The one who couldn’t
even get waxed without ridiculous consequences. That had all healed and Trevor liked
the feel of his bare skin. He’d been hopeful for a chance to rekindle their spark last
night, but with Derrick working, it hadn’t happened. The lunch invitation yesterday
scared him. It’d been years since Derrick had unexpectedly dropped by the store and
he hadn’t been his normal happy self, not at all.
The day after a big job, Derrick often took the day off. And just as often,
asked Trevor to join him. Trevor couldn’t always manage it, but now he had employees
he could trust in the store alone. For the first time, the invitation hadn’t come. And he
was too proud to suggest it, didn’t want to seem like a needy, pathetic troll. Of course,
he’d stupidly mentioned his new shipment. Said he’d have to work on his upcoming days
off. Even if Derrick had considered asking, Trevor had preemptively shut him down, like
an idiot. Ever since he’d noticed how unhappy his husband was, it seemed as though
everything he did was wrong or stupid.
He flicked on the lights and started up the sound system. And blinked. What
the hell? The music was…good, but harsh. Something he’d hear at a bar or a club,
definitely not something he would ever play at the store. He fiddled with the satellite
radio receiver, returning it to the classical music station. Weird, but then, computers
and gadgets were a bit of a mystery to him. He sure wouldn’t put it past them to
randomly change, just for the hell of it.
He’d just finished firing up the cash register when Gemma walked in, a
couple of coffees in her hands.
“Morning, boss. I got you a coffee.”
“Oh, thanks, Gemma. I could use a little pick me up.” Because he’d tossed
and turned until Derrick finally arrived home. It was a sad state of affairs when he
realized how poorly he slept when he was alone. If he didn’t find a way to make Derrick
happy, he was going to have to get used to it. Maybe they did need to talk, although the
thought of initiating that conversation made his balls want to retract into his body.
He slurped at the coffee.
“Everything okay?” Gemma’s head tilted to the side as she inspected his
face. That was all he needed, to be wearing his fucking heart on his sleeve…face
…eyes…whatever.
“Yes, fine. Just didn’t sleep very well last night.”
He anticipated several long, hard days. Buying trips were fun, but the real
work started when the shipments arrived. Gemma was a good assistant. Between her
and Barry, he rarely had to come in on his day off anymore, though he hadn’t truly been
trying to put Derrick off when he said he had work to do. This might be the biggest
shipment he’d brought in to the store and every hour it sat on the loading dock, not
inventoried and in its proper place, nagged at his psyche.
Several back-breaking hours later, Trevor groaned.
“We need a break, boss. How about I go grab us some lunch?”
“You go ahead. I brought something with me.” All vegetarian today. He didn’t
want to tell Gemma about his new dietary restrictions any more than he wanted to tell
Derrick. “I’m going to catch up on some paperwork in my office. Let Barry know he can
knock on the door if he needs me for anything.”
“Will do.”
Trevor closed his office door behind him and slunk over to his chair. He
frowned at his computer. Why the hell was there a feather on his keyboard? Gemma
had left earlier than he had last night and had come in later than him this morning.
Who’d break in to rearrange his desk? Or for that matter, change his music station?
Nobody should have been in his office since he’d left yesterday.
A poltergeist, maybe, although Derrick would laugh at his niggling belief in
the supernatural. Assuming one of his employees wasn’t playing a trick on him, a
poltergeist seemed the most logical culprit.
Setting the feather aside, he booted up. A black box opened over his normal
wallpaper—a photo of him, Derrick and Luke at Casa Loma.
The black box became a video that began playing on its own, terrifying him
for a split second. Until he realized it displayed footage of his store, although the circa
1890 Chesterfield couch did not belong where it sat in the video, and the security
camera was focused tightly on the couch. The whole point of the camera was to obtain
footage of large swaths of the store, not just one piece of furniture. He’d barely had
time to register that, and feel the stirrings of outrage, before Derrick appeared.
Explained why the security company hadn’t called—Derrick had all his security codes
—but didn’t explain what the hell he was doing. His husband gave the camera one of
those little smiles that said someone was getting lucky. Been a long time since he’d
seen that look.
What was Derrick up to? The time stamp in the corner of the video
indicated it had been recorded about an hour or so before Derrick got home the
previous night…morning.
Trevor didn’t get a chance to identify the items Derrick placed on the couch.
He couldn’t take his eyes off his husband, stripping in front of the camera, giving his
hips a little shimmy. Which also explained the music selection he’d switched off this
morning.
God. Derrick was still so fucking stunning. He’d filled out a bit over the
years, but the changes didn’t matter. Smart, tall, lanky—Derrick heated Trevor up like
no one ever had.
A noise outside the door tore his attention from the mesmerizing striptease
on the monitor. He moved the cursor over the video and a playback bar popped up.
Hitting Pause, he leaped up, movement slightly hampered by the almost painful erection
he hadn’t realized he was sporting. After flicking the lock on the door, he was back
behind the desk in record time and clicking Play.
Bit by bit, Derrick bared his body, making Trevor drool. He saw Derrick’s
hand move toward his aroused, flushed cock.
“Don’t touch,” he whispered. Like he’d heard, Derrick flicked a glance at the
camera and curled his fingers into a fist, leaving his cock untouched.
“Good, very good.” Trevor’s hand slipped down to readjust his hardness.
Derrick lay down naked on a fucking expensive antique, his skin pale and
luminous against the dark red. How could he worry about cost when his husband was
doing his best to make him crazy? When Derrick started stroking at those smooth balls
with a feather, Trevor’s glance strayed to the feather he’d moved to the side of his
desk.
Was that…?
As Derrick toyed with himself, avoiding his cock, Trevor grabbed up the
feather and tickled his nose with it. Could he smell Derrick’s musk, or was it his
imagination?
God. His husband was so fucking sexy. He didn’t know why Derrick had
chosen to do this, but his cock was so hard he didn’t care.
The feather down, Derrick’s cock shiny with precome, and the next prop
was…a bottle of lotion? He grabbed the bottle of cocoa-butter lotion, normally kept in
one of his drawers, off the desk. Whipping his gaze back to the monitor as Derrick
opened the bottle, Trevor mimicked the motion and poured some of the lotion on his
fingers. While Derrick smiled at him onscreen, Trevor rubbed his fingers together,
imagining the feel of Derrick’s skin through the sheen of cocoa butter. The warm,
tropical scent hit his nose, and he suddenly remembered this same scent from last
night when he’d woken briefly as Derrick climbed into bed.
Fully expecting Derrick to take his cock in a slick hand, Trevor was shocked
when Derrick knelt on the couch, leaned over to expose his hole to the camera and slid
a finger inside. Suddenly, Trevor was riding on the ragged edge of coming. Gasping, he
wrenched his pants open and stroked in time with Derrick’s rhythm…for all of ten
seconds or so before he erupted all over his fist.
Leaning back into his chair, he closed his eyes, fingers still wrapped around
his spent cock, and waited for his pounding heart to slow. Holy shit. He hadn’t been
yanked over the edge so quick in years…and it had only ever been that good with
Derrick. This video told him Derrick hadn’t forgotten, and neither had Trevor.
Blinking his eyes open, he realized he’d missed Derrick adding two more
fingers. Quickly, he paused and found some napkins in his desk to clean up with. The
last time he’d had an orgasm in the store had been the last time he’d fucked Derrick
over this very desk, when they’d first started dating. But this was the first time anything
like this had happened during business hours. Along with the embarrassment was a bit
of devilish pleasure at breaking the taboo. Good thing he was the boss.
He considering rearranging his clothes and making an appearance out on
the floor, but his cock was still half-hard, he had another half of the video to watch, and
he sure as hell didn’t want Gemma or Barry to guess what he’d been up to in here. The
recent orgasm probably lit him up like a neon sign, telling everyone why he was
suddenly so relaxed.
Giving in to his baser impulses, he reversed the video to the saucy little grin
Derrick threw over his shoulder right before sliding a finger into his own hole.
By the time Derrick was pumping three fingers into his tight, hot hole,
Trevor’s dick was hard and aching again. This time, he shoved his pants down around
his thighs, pulled his shirt out of the line of fire and stroked his cock firmly. When
Derrick pulled his fingers out, Trevor almost whimpered. He slid his other hand under
his balls, the foreign sensation of fingers on his hairless sac more arousing than he’d
anticipated.
Onscreen, Derrick flipped over, exposing his beautiful, hard cock for
Trevor’s appraisal. The stretched hole between his splayed legs beckoned, and Trevor
would have given anything to plunge himself inside his husband’s body.
Then, Derrick grabbed his cock while pushing fingers back inside his body.
Trevor would never again berate his husband for installing such high-quality security
cameras in his store. Because there, on the monitor, was the sexy pink flush across
Derrick’s collarbones and in the hollows of his cheeks that meant he was seconds
away from coming. The knowledge made Trevor’s balls tighten against his body,
sending a tingle to the base of his spine.
Derrick’s cock erupted, but Trevor couldn’t take his eyes off Derrick’s face.
There was nothing in this world sexier than his husband in ecstasy.
Trevor’s hand sped up, drawing his peak closer, as Derrick licked up his
spunk. Fuck, Derrick really knew what got his nuts ready to blow.
He grunted and came, shuddering, as Derrick’s pink tongue cleaned a stray
splatter of come from the dark leather.
Twice in an hour. Maybe he wasn’t so old after all. Because he was sure he
could do it again as soon as he saw Derrick.
After the time it took to clean up—again—the video was nothing more than a
black box on his monitor. He’d missed the end. Probably there wasn’t anything after the
stunning climax, but Trevor didn’t want to miss a bit of Derrick’s gift.
More or less restored to his preorgasm state, Trevor rewound. Wasn’t long
—he clearly saw Derrick’s lips smile and form the words
Love you,
but the sentiment
didn’t have a chance to warm his heart, because as Derrick walked out of camera
range, his face dropped into such a sad, hopeless expression, Trevor lost his breath.
Why would putting on this spectacular show for him make Derrick so sad? If
nothing else, Derrick had proven to him they still had whatever made them combust, hot
and primal, back in the day. Derrick’s outrageousness was infectious. Trevor had never
rubbed one off at the store in his life. Even the couple of times he’d bent Derrick over
the desk had been a long time ago, when they were younger and stupid and…oh God.
Was Derrick doing this because
he
was worried they didn’t have that spark anymore?
Trevor had been worried Derrick wasn’t hot for him anymore, but this show had proved
him wrong. Surely he knew how much Trevor loved him. Didn’t he?
He thought back to the past few weeks. His idiotic behavior, the secrets
…Derrick must have thought… Shit. If Derrick had started acting the way Trevor had,
without any explanation, he’d have been concerned too.
Pain at causing Derrick even a moment’s worry sliced through his gut. He
had to fix this, and soon. Knowing he’d hurt Derrick was unbearable, but this video, and
the courage it had taken Derrick to make it, deserved an equally heartfelt response. He
turned off the computer, made a mental note to not forget the feather and lotion when
he went home, and left the office.
“Gemma, can you get the movers over here?”
“Sure, I’ll give them a call. You want them right now? I thought you were in
the office—I didn’t know you’d sold anything.”
“The ox-blood Chesterfield—Derrick liked it and I’m giving it to him as a gift.”
No way was he selling that piece to someone else. Not when the stunning image of
Derrick splayed all over it was burned for all eternity into his brain. That couch was his
—theirs.
He glanced at the clock. Maybe Derrick wasn’t taking today off. Maybe
that’s why he hadn’t asked Trevor to take the day off with him. If so, Derrick’s hours
should be normal today, which meant he had less than two hours to make it happen.
“Tell the movers I’ll give them double the usual rate if they can be here within
half an hour.”
Gemma’s eyebrows rose but she was already dialing. Probably wondering
why it was such an emergency to make sure Derrick got a pricey sofa, but he sure as
hell wasn’t going to explain his stupidity to anyone but his husband.
While she spoke, Trevor walked back to the couch. He could see why it
appealed to Derrick. A ghost of cocoa-butter scent hung in the air and Trevor’s cock
twitched in response.
He reached out a finger and touched the spot Derrick had come on…had
tongued clean. God. He definitely wasn’t as old as he thought, because he’d come
twice already and was making plans to fuck Derrick all night. Assuming his husband
forgave him for being an idiot.
“Oh, and Gemma?” He called back as soon as he heard her hang up. “I
won’t be in tomorrow.”
“You…what? It’s Saturday.”
“You’ll be fine. Barry will be here.”
“What about the shipment?”
“It will also be fine until Wednesday.”
“Wednesday? You’re taking off until Wednesday?”
Yes, he was. Derrick needed him, and the store didn’t. The shipment could
wait. His marriage was more important.
Chapter Eight
Derrick pushed the cart listlessly around the grocery store. He’d meandered up and
down the aisles twice now, and so far he’d thrown microwave popcorn and paper towels
in, neither of which they needed. The aching emptiness in his gut kept him there, mostly
because he didn’t know where else to go. He couldn’t face going home. Not when his
last-ditch effort had clearly backfired. Trevor didn’t want him anymore. Maybe their
marriage was over. Maybe Trevor
was
seeing someone else.
His phone vibrated and played Trev’s special tone. Derrick’s eyes began to
burn. Taking a deep breath, he accepted the call. “Hello?”
“Hey, hon. Where are you?” Trevor’s voice always shot flames of desire
from his belly to groin, but today…today it just made him want to cry. How much longer
could they last in this relationship?
“Grocery store.” He hoped his despondency was muted through the phone.
He didn’t want Trevor to hear it.
The silence stretched out. Derrick didn’t know what else to say.
“Derrick, I’m so sorry.” Regret laced every word that fell into the silence. “I
thought you’d be home hours ago.”
Oh fuck. Trevor seriously wasn’t going to do this on the phone, was he?
What did Trevor need him home for? To tell him he was having an affair? He wanted a
divorce? He didn’t love Derrick anymore?
A tear slipped down his face and he turned to inspect the spices, hoping
other shoppers would think he was only intensely interested in the selection.
“I’ve been a shit,” Trevor continued. “I guess I was feeling old, useless, and I
took it out on you. I didn’t mean to, but I was being stupid.” So, just a lengthy version of
it’s not you, it’s me.
Trevor really was going to do this over the fucking phone. He was
getting dumped over the phone in the fucking grocery store. He’d never be able to shop
here again.
His phone beeped. Text message.
“I think you should look at that,” Trevor said.
“Why?”
“Please, hon.”
Derrick bit his lip and opened the text. It was an image. He tilted his phone.
And tilted it in the other direction. It took a few seconds for the details to render in his
depression-numbed brain.
The leather couch he’d played on so hopefully was situated in the center of
their den. With a naked, fully aroused Trevor posed on it, one hand wrapped around his
fat cock, his legs splayed open wantonly, invitingly.
Trevor had seen the video. And liked it.
Derrick’s mouth watered and he almost dropped the phone as blood
pounded into his groin, his fly practically busting open from the pressure. Was Trevor
—oh God—waxed? Holy fucking shit. He’d never seen anything so sexy.
He put the phone back to his ear.
“Wha…I mean…um…”
“I’m waiting for you. Just like in that picture.” Trevor’s voice sank to the
dusky timbre that never failed to turn Derrick on. It had been months since he’d heard it.
The tone said Trevor was going to fuck him raw and wild and he’d feel it for fucking
days. He grabbed the shelf in front of him as his knees wobbled.
“What took you so long?”
“Oh, hon. I didn’t even see the video until almost two. Then I had to make
sure I had everything set up…and perfect…for you.”
For him? Perfect? He wished he could see Trevor’s face right now.
“Really?” He hated the tremor in his voice, but he was afraid to believe
Trevor’s words. Afraid to believe his marriage wasn’t poised to crumble to dust beneath
his feet. “But you’ve been so distant.”
“I know, I know. And I have a reason, a reason that had nothing to do with
you or our marriage. Which I promise to tell you later. After I’ve made it up to you for
being such an ass.”
“No, Trev, I—“
“Derrick. I was an ass, and I’m going to make it up to you. I swear.”
The conviction in Trevor’s tone dried Derrick’s tears like magic.
“But you were a very naughty boy, Derrick. Breaking into my shop.
Lewdness on the couch. Putting your bare ass on the merchandise. Creaming all over
the slick red leather. Certainly can’t sell this couch to anyone else, can I?” Trevor
purred, his voice rolling over Derrick like dark, chocolaty sin.
“Uh.” He didn’t have breath to say anything else. But Trevor apparently
wasn’t finished.
“So, I’ll have to punish you a bit before I fuck your brains out.”
He moaned softly. That could mean getting tied up and teased, like he had
done on the video. Or it could mean getting his ass warmed with Trevor’s hand. The
sting, the heat, made everything a little bit hotter.
“Better get home quick, before I get cold and have to get dressed.”
“No!” he shouted into the phone. “I’m leaving now. I’ll be there in less than
ten minutes.”
“Hurry home. And, Derrick?” Trev lost a bit of that sultry, smoky tone as he
became more serious. “I love you. With all my heart.”
“I love you, too, Trevor. I’ve…I’ve missed you.”
“I know, hon. Things are going to be different, better, starting tonight.”
He was already heading to the parking lot, his grocery cart abandoned in the
spice aisle. He didn’t give a damn if everyone saw the erection tenting his pants.
“And tomorrow…” Trevor’s voice dropped again. “You’re going to get that
video of you and the couch off my work computer and my security video.”
The admonishment made his erection flag. If he hadn’t been desperate, he
wouldn’t have done it. He’d really had no guarantee Trevor would be alone when he
watched it.
“And you’re going to install it on my home computer. Maybe burn it to DVD.”
Derrick sputtered with laughter as he got into the car.
“God, you’re so fucking sexy I came twice before I could leave my office.”
“Twice?” Blood pulsed back into Derrick’s cock.
“And I’m still hard, imagining it.”
Derrick had never understood the term “a weight lifted off” but he did now.
He and Trevor were together and heading in the right direction—he couldn’t be happier.
“Gotta go, babe. No phones while driving.” The same couldn’t be said of
hard-ons. Derrick was going to have one all the way home.
“Hurry home, love, hurry home.”
* * *
He was home in record time, car gliding into the garage in exactly seven minutes. He
got out of the car and froze, déjà vu assailing him, making him fear that something was
going to prevent this. Taking a deep breath, he looked at the picture on his phone. No
way. No fucking way. He wasn’t letting anyone or anything get between him and Trev’s
naked body.
Leaving a trail of clothes behind him, Derrick stepped into the den
completely nude. It hadn’t been a dream or a hoax. The blood-red couch was there,
framing his naked and aroused husband. His hand dropped reflexively to his erection,
which he’d had all the way home.
“Mine,” Trevor whispered. He crooked a finger.
“Yours,” he whispered back and then obeyed, the tight, prickly tension in his
chest loosening with every step.
Derrick straddled Trevor and settled against him. The first press of their
cocks together had him throwing his head back and moaning. Too damn long. He was
going to come way too soon, just like he had their first time together.
Trevor gripped his ass with one hand. The other slid around his nape, pulling
him down to meet Trevor’s lips.
Sweet and gentle, Trevor kissed him, lips soft, tongue coaxing for entry into
his mouth. He opened his mouth, and Trevor’s tongue slid inside, tasting like everything
Derrick wanted. He caressed that tongue with the same care he’d give Trevor’s dick.
Beneath him, Trevor undulated, creating light friction between their cocks.
His husband’s other hand started moving, stroking over his ass and back, never delving
between his cheeks. Derrick moaned into Trevor’s mouth. He’d expected a fast, furious
fuck. Instead he was getting sweet, tender sex. The unexpected was as sexy as getting
his ass pounded.
Breaking away to catch a breath, he licked Trevor’s ear, reveling in the
resulting tiny shivers. He continued flicking his tongue along his husband’s stubbled jaw
and down the strong column of his neck, tasting the vibration of Trevor’s moans.
He hadn’t felt Trevor’s hands leave his body but a slick finger at his
entrance told him they had. He nipped at warm skin while one of those long fingers slid
in, slicking him.
Oh, God.
Unable to concentrate on anything else, he pushed his face into the curve
where Trevor’s neck met shoulder and shifted his hips between the hot cock at his
groin and the two fingers now sliding in and out.
“Now, please, Trevor, now.”
Trevor lifted him, slicked his cock and reseated Derrick, hard cock sliding
home.
A low cry tore from his throat. Trevor filling him was the best thing ever. Until
Trevor began to move.
That
was the best ever.
“Derrick, love,” Trevor gasped out as his hips moved faster, harder. His
hands gripped Derrick, moving him, impaling him farther.
It had been too long. Derrick grunted and orgasmed, helpless against
Trevor’s perfect rhythm.
Trevor pressed up, deeper than ever, and came, silent shudders racking his
body as his cock spurted deep inside Derrick’s body.
Derrick rested against Trevor, heartbeat beginning to slow, and he breathed
deeply, enjoying the sensation of Trevor’s spent cock in his ass. A tear slipped down his
face, wetting Trevor’s shoulder.
Tilting his head back, Trevor stared at him for a second before thumbing
away the streak on his cheek.
“Please don’t. I know I was a shit. I have some things to tell you.”
Derrick tensed, and Trevor’s cock slipped away as he sat back.
Reaching over to the nearby end table, Trevor snagged a light blanket to
cover them, then tugged Derrick back into his arms. He found it difficult to relax. The
need for orgasm had temporarily blocked out the tension of the past few weeks.
Then Trevor commenced to tell him about his physical.
“Cholesterol meds! Shit, Trevor, you should have told me. Why couldn’t you
tell me that?” He wanted to stand up, yell, pace, but doing so buck-naked probably
wouldn’t have the desired effect.
“Between Luke moving out and that, I felt so old. I didn’t want you to regret
being with me.”
“Babe, I could never regret being with you. I only regret you felt you had to
hide this, that you didn’t feel you could share your burdens with me.” Knowing Trevor
hadn’t trusted him with this made him sick inside, worse than when he’d suspected
Trevor was sleeping around. “I was starting to wonder if you were cheating on me.”
“I would never!” His tone became apologetic. “But when you made that
video, I realized you might have thought that.”
“No more secrets, please.” He wouldn’t be able to handle another incident
like this. “Even if they’re embarrassing, okay? We can’t be right together if we’re not
honest. I should have tried harder to talk to you when things seemed out of whack.”
“I know. There never seemed to be a good time to talk. Our schedules…”
“That’s partly my fault. Underwood was deliberately extending the work
because he was trying to get in my pants. Once I realized what he was doing, I should
have subcontracted the work. Never again.”
Trevor had gone stiff beneath him, and not in the good way.
He lifted an eyebrow at his husband. “You’re the only one getting in my pants
…you trust that, right?”
A rueful smile lifted the corners of Trevor’s mouth. Which he kissed until
Trevor relaxed.
“I know,” Trevor said. “I’ve taken the weekend off.”
His Trevor not working on Saturday? “Really? The whole weekend?”
“Yes. We need this. I need this to make it up to you. I… I’m sorry I ruined
your surprise meal. I didn’t realize until later—“
Derrick pressed a finger over Trevor’s lips. “I know you weren’t trying to hurt
me.”
“I made reservations for us at the CN Tower.”
Such a romantic. His plans for a vacation had been a good one. Derrick
couldn’t wait to surprise Trevor on his birthday. He gave his husband a quick kiss
before pulling back. “But what about your cholesterol?”
“It’s not that dire, but I’ll be careful about what I order, I promise.”
“I will too. We can make these lifestyle changes together. I’ll try to tailor my
hours around yours a little more, and maybe we’ll have so much time with each other
that you won’t know what to do with me.”
“Oh, I’ve got some ideas.” Trevor tickled the small of his back, just above his
crease. Despite the sexual allusion, Derrick knew that wasn’t the only thing they’d be
doing together.
“So, was this part of the midlife crisis?” Derrick cupped the smooth balls he
hadn’t paid proper attention to when he arrived home. The skin moved like suede under
his fingertips. “I have to say, it’s pretty hot.”
And so was Trevor’s face. “Uh, yeah. So, no more secrets, right? I found
some gray hair, and on top of everything else, I thought that was it. Old. I’m almost forty,
and the bit of gray at my temples doesn’t seem as bad, you know? So I got it waxed and
had a terrible reaction the same day you came home early. It hurt, looked ugly as hell,
and I didn’t want to explain.”
He bit his lip and tried to hold in his laughter.
“Fine. I’m glad you find it so funny,” Trevor groused, although he didn’t sound
mad.
“You found that little patch of gray under your cock?”
Blue eyes opened wide in shock as his husband figured out Derrick had
seen what he’d so valiantly tried to hide. “You knew?”
“How many times have I had that hard cock in my mouth? You’ve had those
for, oh, three years I’d say.”
Then, Trevor started laughing, a deep, happy belly laugh Derrick hadn’t
heard in a while. Made him laugh, too, and for the first time in weeks, he knew
everything was going to be fine. The bump in the road was rapidly disappearing in their
rearview mirror.
Trevor’s guffaws subsided as he looked deeply into Derrick’s eyes. “I am so
sorry for hurting you. It’s the last thing I ever wanted to do.”
“I know. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“Oh, I bought something for you.” Trevor gave him a smack on his butt.
“Really? Besides the couch? Which I love, in case I didn’t mention it.”
“Yep. Ordered some dark sheets a few days ago. They came today.”
Derrick’s breath caught and his cock twitched. Dark sheets. They’d had
some great times on those dark sheets they’d used to own. He wasn’t the only one
fantasizing about adding spice back to the vanilla.
“Can we test them out now?”
“Oh, I hope so.” Trevor gave him another light swat as he leaped to his feet.
Trevor shifted in preparation to stand, the squeak of flesh against leather
sounding enough like a fart that Derrick started laughing again.
“You are so lucky you looked hot on this damned couch. But if you don’t stop
laughing and get your sexy ass in the bedroom, I’m going to have to punish you. Tie you
up. Make you wait.”
Derrick stopped laughing as lust drenched him, making his cock rise.
“Promise?”
Trevor kissed him and steered him to the bedroom.
“Always and forever.”
Hungry for more erotic male/male romance? Download
Spice ’n’ Solace,
also by KC
Burn. Available now.
Every year, Jathan One-Moon faces increasing pressure that he marry and have
children. What he really wants is a male mate who can enjoy both playful sex and his
more dominant nature. When Jathan orders an escort from Spice ’n’ Solace, the
premier male brothel in the Galactic Alliance, he’s thrilled to be sent Kazha, a man who
arouses him like no other. But Kazha Deinos is the owner of Spice ’n’ Solace, not his
escort. As the two discover a chemistry and tenderness they’ve never experienced
before, will their secrets tear them apart?
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About the Author
KC has traveled all over the world and…that’s an exaggeration. The farthest afield
she’s been is Egypt, but her biggest trip by far was her relocation from Toronto to
Florida, with her husband and cats (and not *gasp* to retire). Florida may have been a
culture shock but it was there she discovered two things—an extremely supportive
writing group and a newly discovered love of writing gay romance.
Having been raised in a socially progressive city, she’s always believed love between
consenting adults should be celebrated, regardless of race or sexual orientation, so her
books will always have a happy ending. No pun intended—
those
happy endings occur
throughout!
KC is also published with Loose Id and Dreamspinner Press.
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ISBN: 978-1-4268-9345-2
Copyright © 2012 by K.C. Burn
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