Dean went back to the city the third day after Charlie left, leaving Stacy and him at Steve’s. He’d had a mind to follow Dean, worried he was overstaying his welcome, but Stacy wouldn’t hear of it. She reminded him that Steve’s was their safe house for a reason.
Steve’s mood mellowed considerably, though he seemed to be avoiding Matt some. Whenever they’d find themselves alone in any room, Steve busied himself, keeping his attention elsewhere.
Stacy was on the phone with Charlie daily, dipping into her room for the hour or more they stayed on the phone.
He felt alone, and that was strange for him. He had never been alone more than a moment or two in his entire life. At first, it was uncomfortable, but then, he found he liked it, in small doses. With Stacy’s permission, and a thousand lectures of caution, he’d take short walks, mostly in the woods away from roads where he might be seen.
The trees surrounding him, he didn’t feel so alone. He sat by a small creek some days, thinking on his childhood, the times they’d explored places similar, the forts made from twigs and old wood, cinderblocks they’d steal from under houses.
It felt good, thinking of his childhood. It was a good childhood, when none of the cares of the world were on him, and he had ready-made playmates everywhere. Playing for hours, laughing until their sides cramped, telling the secrets that only children had.
He felt like he’d aged a hundred years since then. That wasn’t exactly a bad thing. No one should stay ignorant of the truth for that long. He was glad he’d grown and could see the truth, and know he had the strength to deal with it.
He went back to the house, and Steve greeted him smiling, a cupcake in his hand. “I made some sweets.”
It was tall with fluffy white icing, and there were rainbow sprinkles on top. “This is…weird but appreciated.”
“When I get bored, I bake.”
As he sat at the table and peeled the paper cup off, he teased, “I hope you’re bored more often.”
“Sweet tooth? Good to know. I’ll know how to bribe you.”
It was strange, Steve sitting next to him, eating his own cupcake. After the rather distant way he’d been, it felt amazing to be back there, closer to him again. He hoped that his feelings were simply gratitude, but the nagging he felt whenever he thought of Steve pointed in a whole different direction. Not to mention, the fleeting thoughts about shoving him against a wall and kissing him so hard they would end up breathless.
He had frosting on his nose, all around his mouth and chin, and Matt laughed as he pointed it out, noticing that he never looked more handsome. “You’re a messy eater. Why didn’t I notice that before?”
“It’s only with cupcakes, I swear,” he answered while wiping his face on a napkin. “Besides, you should talk,” he mentioned, scraping a dab of it off Matt’s face with his finger.
They shared a moment, and Matt knew it was nothing more than that. Their laughing eyes meeting over their cupcakes as they took bites in unison, Matt noticing a little flour in Steve’s hair and on his shoulder.
Steve was the first to look away, leaning back in the chair and patting his stomach. “Ahh, that took care of my appetite for dinner.”
“Good, if you’re not stuck in the kitchen, you can hang out with us. Movie night?”
His dark lashes fluttered over his cheeks as he agreed, “Sure. That sounds fun.”
Matt loved the tiny twitch of his lips as he started to smile, deciding to tease him. “Shoot. I can’t watch a movie without popcorn. I guess you’re stuck in the kitchen after all. Since you don’t believe in microwaves.”
Steve grabbed the papers from their cupcakes and got up slowly, narrowing his eyes at Matt as he accused, “You like me in the kitchen, huh? My mad food skills? Or the way the apron makes my butt look?”
He was surprised at the words, but he couldn’t deny them. Not at all. “The apron, definitely.”
As Steve pursed his lips, blowing a long stream of air, and Matt felt his legs go numb. “I still got it.”
Stacy insisted on picking the movie, so they sat together on Steve’s comfortable sofa, Stacy taking the left end, claiming it was so she could have the end table to hold her glass of wine. The freshly made popcorn was in a huge bowl between Matt and Stacy, also at her insistence. With the bowl, Matt and Steve were sitting closely, Matt feeling Steve’s every movement.
The brush of his soft flannel shirt against Matt’s arm, that alone was keeping his attention distracted from the movie. He knew that once it was over, he’d never be able to tell someone about it, he’s noticed so little.
He’d hold the bowl so Steve could get a handful of popcorn, his eyes meeting Matt’s in the darkened room. The television reflected there, making his eyes shine. They were so dark, his lashes, eyes, all of it, and yet there was such a light in them.
When the movie was over, Stacy bid them goodnight, leaving them alone. That left Matt in a rough spot. He thought he should move over, but if he did, it could signal he didn’t want to sit that close to Steve, which just wasn’t true. If he didn’t, however, and Steve didn’t want what Matt wanted, for them to become closer, Matt felt like he’d look desperate.
He was so bad at all of it. The burgeoning feelings he had for Steve, he’d tried to convince himself they were so many things, anything but what they were. He liked the man, wanted to know him better, wanted to grab him and kiss him, not stopping until Steve gave in and gave himself over to Matt completely.
He didn’t know where those feelings came from, guilt slinking in as he suspected they were from his raising. The men on the compound didn’t ask permission, they took the girls they wanted, as long as the prophet gave his blessing to the union, and as long as they were obedient and generous with their time and money, they always got the blessing.
Steve asked tentatively, “Want to watch another movie?”
He did as long as they could watch together, but the dark room, the flickering television, all of it was making his head swim. He knew he wasn’t thinking clearly, his body was tingling with desire, and he wished he was brazen enough to simply do it, turn and take Steve’s mouth into a kiss. At the very least, make a gesture that would convey his feelings.
If he went by his instincts, Steve would be under him already, and Matt would be slowly kissing him, letting his hands roam over the body that his eyes had been caressing practically since he’d gotten there. If Steve protested, he’d cover those protests with deeper kissing, and he’d make love to him all night until Steve gave himself over to Matt, confessing he wanted him and no one else in the world.
With that last thought, if he didn’t leave the room, there would be no way to hide the erection he was getting. He got up and set the bowl on the coffee table, not turning as he said, “I should get to bed too.”
“Thanks, Matt. I had a lot of fun tonight.”
“Me too.”
He struggled for hours with his thoughts, wishing he’d never met his father, his family, never been raised in the compound. The good memories of childhood, how much he loved his family and friends, all of it was gone, thinking his desires were from watching the men there. There was no love and gentleness in most of the homes. The men snapped their fingers and the women jumped. He didn’t want to be that kind of man.
There was no way he could imagine making Steve feel as if he was lower, as if he was nothing and could be replaced. To make him feel as if his thoughts and feelings didn’t matter. They did. They mattered to Matt so much he wondered about them all the time. Each time their eyes met, Matt wondered if Steve was feeling a little bit of what Matt felt.
Chapter Eleven
Ever since she’d reconciled with Charlie, the snarling, sarcastic Stacy had become downright chipper. He walked into the kitchen, cranky and ready for a ton of coffee, and she was there, humming.
When she saw him, her eyes lit up and she sang, “Gooood morning! Isn’t it a beautiful morning?”
“Yeah, terrific,” he grumbled, reaching for
the tea pot to heat more water for the French press.
“What’s wrong with you? I figured I’d get up and catch two huge cases of afterglow.”
Sending her a death glance from the corner of his eye, he snapped, “Doesn’t look like it, does it?”
“Whoa, whoa,” she started, spinning him around to look in his face. “I strategically left at the height of the sexual tension in that room. It was so thick, I was ready to back up into a damn doorknob-”
“Ew!”
“Thinking you two would start making out and rolling around, groping each other like horny teenagers. What the hell happened?”
Not that he wanted to have this conversation with her, but he whispered, “He didn’t make the first move.”
He ducked away from her widening eyes, getting back to busying himself with making coffee.
“Why? Huh? Why? Why the hell did he have to make the first move? Because that’s how you fantasized it in your head? Let me tell you something, buddy, it never happens like that. This isn’t some rom/com where the angst and troubles work out in ninety minutes and the two live happily ever after.”
He wanted to run from her words, but she was getting too close to being right.
She forced him to face her again and pled, “Listen to me. I was there, Steve. I had fantasies by the dozens, most of them ending with Charlie showing up at my door with six hundred roses, on his knees, just begging me to take him back. He confessed his undying love, told me he quit the bureau in protest and would live the rest of his life making it up to me.”
Without the words to argue, because he had to face it, there was no argument, he stayed quiet and she went on. “That man in there, he’s never had a relationship. He’s never been out there, perfecting his game. He doesn’t have a Grindr profile or heads to clubs when he’s horny to pick up a few guys. He’s new at all of this, and here you are, in your thirties, played the damn game a few times, I’m sure, and you’re waiting for him to make the first move? Do you even realize how selfish that is?”
With his entire body slumping, he sighed, “I’m an ass.”
“Yeah. A hairy, pimply one at that.”
Despite himself, he laughed. “That’s gross.”
“Yeah, well, if the pimple fits,” she teased, brushing the hair from his forehead. “Listen, I get it. He’s special. I’m walking on eggshells around him most of the time too, worried he’ll break or finally lose his temper, something. Did you ever think, though, that a good man caring about him might be just what he needs?”
All he could do was shrug.
She huffed and scolded, “It’s not like he wouldn’t make the first move, if he knew how. You’re pretty hot, in that dark, brooding Italian way you have.”
“I’m not brooding!”
“I’m saying it’s a good thing. If you were blond and blue eyed, it wouldn’t work. The creamy olive skin, eyes as black as night, oh yeah, it works.”
Thinking of Matt, he shook his head, asking, “You think he thinks of me…like that?”
Stacy squeezed his shoulder. “Damn. I had it all wrong, didn’t I? You aren’t just hot for him, you’re falling for him.”
“No! I’m not some lesbian that brings a U-Haul to their second date.”
“One, that’s a generalization and stereotype, and you should know better than that. Two? Who wouldn’t fall for him? He’s got the whole package. He’s a good person. He just got beaten close to death, and yet he’s not feeling sorry for himself. He’s trying to help some more. He could easily throw up his hands, report what he knew to authorities, and go somewhere to live a happy life.”
Steve started to admit it to her, that his feelings were growing by the day, that if one more minute went by without touching him, he’d lose his mind, but that was when Matt came in and Steve quickly moved away from Stacy, telling Matt, “If miss cheerful, here, would let me, I’ll have coffee for us in a few.”
“No rush,” he said, heading to the sink, grabbing a glass for water from the cabinet and avoiding Steve’s eyes.
Butting in again, Stacy said, “I’m thinking of staying in my room all day, catching up on some reading, if you guys wanted to…I don’t know…hang out. Watch some more movies.”
“Actually,” Matt said, “I could use some exercise. I saw that pile of wood out back. Mind if I chop some?”
Stacy huffed, mumbling, “I give up,” before she left the room.
Steve poured the boiling water into the press and said, “Sure. Have at it.”
“Oh, well, I just need something more than a walk today. It…helps relax me.”
So, would me sucking your dick for four or five hours, he thought, but said, “Yeah, sure, sure. I may go into town. We’re getting low on supplies. If you’d like to come, as long as you stay in the car…”
Smirking, he drawled, “Sounds like a hoot.”
“Right,” he laughed. “Well, if there’s anything you need, let me know.”
“I hate to ask, but I could use some underwear, maybe a few clothes? I hate to keep asking to borrow yours.”
“I don’t mind, but I’ll pick some up for you. Until I get back, though, if you need something, in my dresser are sweats and T-shirts. Please, don’t hesitate.”
That was when their eyes finally met, and Stacy’s words went through his head. With the bruises starting to fade, his face came into better view, it was like the cleaning of the Sistine Chapel, a beautiful piece of artwork coming out of the soot and dirt collected over the years.
Like that, Matt was coming out of the mindset given him from the compound, searching for himself. Before his eyes, Matt was becoming a man who made Steve ache with need and more. He deeply admired him.
“I’ll see you when I get back with…with the clothes and things.”
“I’ll pay you back, when I can, Steve. I want to pay you back for all you’ve done.”
They were so close, Steve feeling his presence in every cell of his body. Yearning, that was all he could think. He yearned to be in Matt’s universe, to know him better than anyone, and keep discovering him every day. And he’d have to, because he was seeing Matt grow before his eyes.
Matt’s eyes were on his lips, and before he could help it, he licked them. Matt’s groan was deep and guttural, and then he turned, calling over his shoulder as he headed outside, “I’ll get coffee later. Thanks.”
“You’re so stupid,” Stacy accused from the doorway. “What does he have to do?”
“Nothing,” Steve said. “I’m just going to see where it goes, but I’m not pouncing on him in the middle of the kitchen.” Before she could give him some comment on that, he asked, “Want to come with me to town?”
“Only if I shut up about you and Matt hooking up, right?”
“Right.”
After showering, dressing, the entire time thinking of Matt, he headed for the back door to let him know they were about to leave. The window in the door had no curtain, nothing to block his view from the sight that confronted him before he could turn the knob.
Less than twenty feet away, Matt was there, swinging the ax over his head, bringing it down perfectly onto the piece of wood. The branches from the trees over the wood shed couldn’t reach all of him, so his face was shadowed, but his body was in the sun, showing his expert movements. He’d bend to take the piece off, setting another in its place, raising the ax, bringing it down, swinging it around until it was over his head again. Precision, concentration, and then…like Steve had willed it, Matt got overheated and pulled his T-shirt off, leaving him in a wife-beater, one soaked through with sweat, showing his mounds, ripples, and dark, tiny nipples.
Steve felt a line of saliva leak from the corner of his mouth, and he wiped it as he brought his lips back together, swallowing hard as he let his hand drop from the doorknob.
The curled hair around his face was darker with the dampness, framing his reddening face as he exerted his strength on the ax into the wood. Like a dance, it was. A purely masculine dan
ce and he was the only audience, in awe of the dancer and his perfectly timed movements.
From deeper within the house, Stacy called for him, bringing him from his reverie unwillingly.
He turned his back to the scene, breathing heavily while his eyes closed, committing to memory every line and curve of the man.
Again, Stacy yelled out and he called back, “Coming!”
They left soon after, and Steve was crankier than ever. She noticed. Of course, she did.
“Did you talk to him?”
“No, I didn’t talk to him! We’re going to town. I asked him what he wanted from town. What was I supposed to do, Stacy? This is me, I don’t make the first move. I’m…”
“You’re submissive.”
He glanced over at her without taking his eyes from the road for too long, and started to stammer, but she quickly explained, “Charlie might have mentioned it.”
“How the fuck does he know anything like that?”
“It’s not like most people can hide it, Steve, and it’s not like he was gossiping. When we were in bed the other night, he wondered the same thing I was, why you weren’t going for it with Matt, being it is obvious to just about everyone who sees the two of you that you’re hot for each other. We didn’t realize then that you were falling for the guy, but hey, love and lust generally make the same faces.”
“Great.”
She laughed some, but it wasn’t mocking, it just felt that way. “I get how hard this is for you. I’ve been there. Believe it or not, I used to be pretty shy myself. I wanted to be in the bureau and discovered fast that shy wasn’t going to cut it there.”
“I’m not shy. Shy and submissive aren’t the same thing.”
“Okay, so I misspoke. I’m sorry, Steve, I know it’s easier to give this advice from an outside perspective. The thing is, Matt gave me some that I know came from you, and I took it. The man I’ve been crazy for, for so long now, he’s back in my life, and it’s because of that advice. I just want to return the favor, man.”
He deflated, sorry for how gruff he’d been with her. “I appreciate it, Stacy. And for the record, I’m really happy for you and Charlie. I know he missed you. I hope it works out for the long haul.”
The Principle (Legacy Book 2) Page 10