by Tara Lain
This time, Braden smiled. “Give the man some time to heal, you guys. He took one for the team looking after you. He needs his rest.”
Okay, so a lot nicer presentation, but the bottom line was the same. Braden didn’t want him there. Talk about fucking mixed messages. Ian forced a smile. “Thanks. I guess I better go home and sleep. This is my first time out of bed for the whole day.”
“Can we come and visit Anderson tomorrow, Ian?” Mireille gave him her multibillion-dollar smile.
He bent down. “I’m sure that can be arranged. We’ll talk about it, okay?”
“Thank you.”
Jo-Jo tried not to look sulky. “Maybe some games too?”
“Yep. I’ll bet we can work it out for you to grind me to dust.” At least that made him smile.
Braden grinned. “We’ll see you tomorrow, then. I better get Jo and Mireille home. It’s getting late.”
“Okay.” He nodded, but his eyes didn’t feel warm when he looked at Braden. Too confused. It wasn’t that fucking late.
After saying all his good-byes to the Tanakas and other guests, he retrieved Jim’s car and drove to Laguna. He came home a lot when Ken and Jim were gone, but tonight felt especially empty. Yes, they were family, but Jim and Ken had embarked on a new adventure in which he played no role. Had no place. He wasn’t jealous. Just sad. Nothing had really changed, except it used to be Jim and his boyfriend and his brother. Now Jim and Ken were a unit, legally and every other way. He was just a room renter—but he didn’t even pay rent.
He slogged into his bedroom and changed into sweats. Maybe some popcorn and a movie would cheer him up. He could watch a silly musical in honor of the newlyweds. He found the popcorn and was putting it in the microwave when his phone buzzed. He glanced and a thrill tingled up his spine. Braden. “Hi.”
His voice was soft. “Hi. Sorry, but I knew if we invited you over, I’d never get the kids to bed, and I really wanted them asleep. Any chance you could come over? No, I mean, any chance you’d want to come over?”
The smile spread across Ian’s face all by itself. “Are you propositioning me, Mr. Lord?”
“Fuck yeah.”
“I’ll try not to get run over in my haste. See you in a second.”
Yes! He grabbed his house keys, slid on a light jacket and his flip-flops, left on a light, set the alarm, and took off like a guy who remembered what Braden Lord’s cock felt like. In other words, fast. Dashing down the three blocks, he arrived at PCH, glanced both ways, and took off across the street. Unlike the attack by the kamikaze motorcycle last time he did something this dumb, the crossing proved uneventful. As he approached Braden’s house, he slowed. Back door. Moving softly, he walked down the pathway beside the house and tapped on the back entry. For a minute nothing happened. Then Braden came into the dark kitchen, peering toward the door. When he saw Ian, he smiled big. Nice.
Braden yanked open the door and pulled Ian into his arms in one move. Before Ian could even register surprise, he got well and thoroughly kissed. Oh yeah. It didn’t last nearly long enough, but as a mini hors d’oeuvre, it sufficed.
Braden spoke softly. “I closed up the house and turned off the lights. We can go in my bedroom. Can’t be too noisy, but the kids’ rooms are a ways away, so I think we can push our luck.”
“I’d like to have you pushing more than your luck, my friend.”
“That too.” He grinned.
Ian tiptoed behind Braden, feeling very much like a naughty kid, and slipped into his bedroom. Bray closed and locked the door and turned on the TV loud enough to cover their voices.
Braden gave him a hug. “Thanks for being willing to play my silly games.”
“What silly game can I interest you in? A nice suck, or would you like to go all the way to fuck?”
Braden glanced toward the door. Obviously, he hadn’t done much fucking with the kids in the house. Hell, he hadn’t done much fucking, period.
Ian dropped to his knees, grabbed Braden’s fashionable blue workout pants, and yanked them to his thighs. Open mouth. Insert cock.
“Holy crap!” Braden staggered back until his legs hit the bed, Ian knee-walking in front of him, trying to keep up. And giggling. Loud. Braden fell backward and Ian launched himself between his legs like a voracious predator, eating up his dick—well, half of it—in one attack.
Braden gasped and moaned, his hips bobbing as Ian sucked him deep. “Oh man, I thought—I thought I’d lost you. I didn’t know what I’d do if I—oh God.”
Ian’s mouth stilled for a moment. Sure would love to hear the last of that thought. Still, aborting blowjobs in favor of conversation right now? Not happening. He sucked harder and deeper.
Braden grasped Ian’s hair. “Want to suck you too.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Want to.”
Some thought about how sixty-nine sucking might look to kids flashed in Ian’s mind, but hell, none of this amounted to Disney material.
Braden was way gone. He tugged at Ian’s sweats and, apparently forgetting he had next to no oral experience with dicks, shoved Ian into his mouth. Well, hell, enthusiasm counted for a lot! “Yes, suck it!”
Ian went back to work. Man, he tastes good. He ran his tongue up and down Braden’s thick cock and bored into the piss slit, then shoved it deep into his throat. No one ever accused Braden Lord of being a slow learner. He copied Ian stroke for stroke, even if he had some trouble on the deep-throat part. Shit, I could get off on the sounds alone. Two men, grunting, slurping, and moaning. Like a gay sex symphony.
Braden started to thrust hard into Ian’s mouth, and his sucking faltered. Then, like he’d pinched himself, he pulled his mouth off, grabbed Ian’s dick in both hands, and pumped like crazy in time to his bobbing hips. Ian grabbed the big cock to try to steady the bronco while he applied his deepest suction. Meanwhile, his own penis heated to critical mass and his balls boiled. Together, they made one big, writhing mass of bobbing, wriggling energy all over the bed until Braden threw his head back. “Oh!” Before he could scream, Ian leaped over his body and swallowed the cry in a kiss as he tugged Braden’s cock straight to explosion. Braden’s pumping paws faltered and he came once, twice, into Ian’s hand, then went crazy, jacking Ian to orgasm. Ian bit his tongue to keep from yelling and managed to hold it down to an “unh, unh.” But his head took all the pressure, and black and white dots of ecstasy swam in front of his eyes.
Finally his body stopped jerking, and Braden curled around him. “Wow. Just wow.”
Ian grinned. “May I second that?”
“Can you stay for a while?”
“You think it’s okay?”
“Yeah. Door’s locked.”
“Do you ever lock the door?”
“Occasionally. When I want to jerk off.”
“The life of a father.” Funny how good that sounded.
“Yeah.” He made a face, but it was clear from the small smile he’d never trade his kids for more privacy.
Really tired. Ian snuggled into the circle of Braden’s arms and instantly fell asleep.
“Daddy, can I come in?”
Ian sat up in bed like he’d been flung from a catapult. He leaned down to Braden’s ear. “Bray. Wake up!”
“W-what?”
He gestured madly toward the door and mouthed, “Mireille.”
Braden’s eyes widened. “Just a second, honey.” He gestured toward the bathroom and whispered, “Door to the pool.”
Ian scrambled out of bed, grabbed his sweats and flip-flops, looked around crazily to be sure he wasn’t forgetting anything, and fled into the bathroom. He closed the door, then peered out the exit to the pool deck. Shit, Jo-Jo sat beside the pool, paddling his feet in the water. Behind Ian in the bedroom, Mireille said, “Sorry I woke you, Daddy.” Apparently, his desire for privacy wasn’t outside her experience. Good.
“It’s okay, baby. I was just really tired, so I overslept. What do you want to do today?”
�
�Go see Ian and Anderson.”
Well, that gave him a smile. He peeked again at the pool. Now Jo-Jo swam laps. Hell.
Braden said, “Let’s go get you ready and grab Jo-Jo. I’ll make breakfast and meanwhile, I’ll call Ian and make sure it’s okay to come over.”
“He invited us.”
“No. You invited us and he agreed. That’s kind of different, don’t you think?”
“Well, maybe, but I think he wants us to come.”
“I think so too. Okay, you go put on a nice shorts outfit while I get dressed. Where’s Jo-Jo?
“He’s swimming.”
Ian smiled. He could practically hear Braden swallow hard.
“Okay, go get him and tell him to get dressed.”
“Yay. Anderson! Okay, I’m getting Jo.”
The door to the bathroom opened, and Braden slipped in. He burst out laughing at Ian sitting patiently on the edge of the tub. He delivered a quick kiss, peeked out the door at the still swimming boy, then strode back out, closing the door behind him. A couple of minutes later, both Mireille and Braden called Jo-Jo to come inside.
Ian peeked a couple minutes after that. All clear. He opened the door and slid out. What exactly did the kids’ bedroom windows look out on? He tried to remember, but no go. Walking softly, he came to the great room sliding doors, took a quick peek, jumped back, then ran like a rabid deer down the walk to the front of the house. If he got caught, he could claim he’d just arrived.
When he hit the sidewalk, he slowed and ambled past the steps to the beach, reaching the crosswalk at the light. No more running this morning. His lower end was too loosey-goosey. Nice! When the light changed, he sauntered across.
A block later, his phone rang. “Hello.”
“Hey, Ian, it’s Jo-Jo.”
“Hey, Jo, are you guys coming over today?”
Jo-Jo’s voice radiated joy. “Yeah, if it’s okay.”
“Come any time. I was just getting a coffee and a breakfast sandwich, but I’m on my way home.” That was in case he heard the traffic.
“Great. We’ll be there in a little while.”
Ian hung up and giggled all three blocks.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Hey, come on, guys, don’t trash the newlyweds’ house.” Braden laughed at the wildness all over the living room as Ian and Jo-Jo wrestled. Ian had finally managed to win a game on Jo, and now Jo-Jo sought recompense. On the rug in front of the fireplace, ignoring them completely, Mireille happily petted Anderson.
God, the kids looked happy—happier than he’d seen them in ages. I work so damned hard to achieve something Ian just does naturally. He’d kept the kids so far away from any man he found attractive because he didn’t want them to get hurt, and here, almost by chance, Ian filled a place in their lives that couldn’t be taken away without—what? Disappointment? Heartbreak? It might be overstating to say they loved him, but they sure as hell liked him a lot.
And what about me? What do I feel about Ian Carney? What do I want from him? Braden’s life was so fucking complicated it wasn’t fair to ask anyone else to endure it. But Ian seems to want a physical relationship. Friends with benefits, almost. Hell, after getting ripped apart by his ex, he may not want to get serious at all. And how do you feel about that, Mr. Lord? Shit, when Ian went out with Ted, he had not felt easygoing about it. Unless you considered potential murder easygoing. But how can I ask him to be a one-man guy when I’m a confused mess?
Ian dove for the couch and burrowed into Braden’s side. “Save me.”
Jo-Jo landed beside him. “Beg for mercy, coward.” He grabbed Ian’s ribs and tickled as Ian went bugger nuts.
“No, help! Anything but that.”
Braden laughed. “So that’s how it is?”
He piled on top and tickled Ian’s other side mercilessly until the poor guy had tears running down his face and screamed, “Mireille, save me.”
Mireille ran to the rescue, pulled at Jo-Jo, and commanded, “No. Back. He is my minion and therefore under my protection. Back, you orcish slaves.”
At which point Braden collapsed with laughter and Jo walked backward with his hands raised, leaving Ian gasping while half lying on Braden’s lap.
The moment shimmered. Braden hadn’t really laughed in months, hell, maybe years. The sheer joy of these seconds painted themselves like a tableau in his mind, never to be forgotten. He wanted to lean down and kiss Ian—the temptation was so strong, he trembled with the desire. On a long inhale, he smiled. “What do you say? Shall we go get something great to eat?”
“Yes, Daddy, I’m hungry.” Mireille immediately returned to her petting.
Okay, back to reality. “Uh, are you supposed to go to your mom’s tonight?” He struggled to control his frown and made it to neutral.
Jo-Jo shrugged. “She called earlier and said she’s home, but if we want to stay another night, you can take me to summer camp and Mireille to dance lessons in the morning.”
“Okay. Great.” One more night he didn’t have to decide what to do with the photo Ian had given him. He didn’t want the children to see the photo, no matter what. But hell, if she’s on drugs, I can’t let her take care of the kids without supervision.
No proof of that.
Oh well, one day at a time.
He glanced at his watch. How many hours until Ian could sneak in again?
“Oh God, oh God, oh God,” Ian chanted as Braden hammered his beautiful ass doggy style, his fingers tangled in that sunshiny hair. How in hell have I lived without this?
Easy. I didn’t have Ian before.
He thrust deep and felt the squeeze on every nerve in his cock, sending electric currents of pleasure into his balls and up his spine. Just want to keep fucking. With a rhythm going, ecstasy flowed through him like a river of joy. “Want to live this way. Never quit fucking you.” His balls hammered against Ian’s thigh, each impact shooting a jolt of sex lightning.
“I don’t know about you, but my balls won’t last all night. In fact—” Ian’s head flung backward. “—this might be—it. It. It! Oh crap, Braden!” Cum burst from his cock, making ropy patterns on the sheet. Wow, he loved making Ian come.
Come. Love. Holy hell. A blast of fire raced from his balls into his cock and shot into his head, blinding him and exploding his brains. He bucked, trembled, and shook as spurt after spurt of cum shot from his cock into the condom. Want no condom. Want to switch and bottom. Want everything.
Ian fell forward onto the bed, taking Braden down with him. Splat, a highlander sandwich with cum filling.
Ian chuckled, sending vibrations into Braden’s spent cock. “That was fucking great.”
“Appropriate description.” He rolled to the side, pulling the condom from Ian’s butthole. He grabbed it, tied it, and dropped it on the floor beside the bed. “Don’t let me forget that.”
“No, that would be bad.” Ian’s voice was muffled from speaking into the mattress.
Man, he loved how Ian considered the kids in everything. So fucking great. “Can you stay?”
“No, better not. You’ll have a busy morning tomorrow getting them ready and yourself to work. Plus, I have a slave driver boss. I can’t be late.” He laughed softly.
“Thanks, Ian.”
He half raised his head. “For what?” He waggled his bare butt. “Having such a great ass? If we’re writing poetry of praise, then I ought to be sending up fireworks over that cock of yours.”
“Well, of course your butt is fully worthy of hymns, but I meant for understanding all the shit involved in being a father. Most single gay guys wouldn’t.”
He waved a hand and snorted. “Hell, I love those kids. Don’t want anything that’s not the best for them.”
Wow, just wow.
Ian sat up slowly. “If I don’t start moving, I’ll definitely be here in the morning. So, sadly, I better go.” He dragged himself up and staggered into the bathroom.
To the sound of running water, Braden checked his text
s and e-mails. He sure hadn’t been thinking about work lately. Kind of nice for a change.
When Ian emerged, he looked fresh, pink cheeked, and well fucked. Braden grabbed him for a big kiss.
“Should I go out the door to the pool?”
“Yeah, maybe that’s better than walking down the hall.”
Braden followed him to the door in the bathroom, opened it, then leaned down for a last kiss. Their lips touched sweetly, then got hotter as Ian’s tongue played deep in Braden’s mouth. Could his cock really rise again?
“Shit!” The shriek echoed through the quiet night. Braden ripped his lips away and looked up. Jo-Jo stood in the middle of the pool deck in his pajama bottoms, fists clenched, mouth gaping. “I thought you were my friend, but all you wanted was to fuck my dad!” He reached down and grabbed a plastic pool toy and threw it hard at Ian, then ran back into the kitchen door and vanished.
Braden stared after him. “No.” He looked at Ian whose eyes glued to the spot where Jo-Jo vanished. “Oh shit, Ian. What have I done?”
Ian took two steps back. “I’m so sorry. I’m so terribly sorry.” He shook his head back and forth.
“Oh God, I’ve hurt my son.”
Ian gasped for breath. “No. My fault. I wanted only good for them and now I’ve fucked it all up. All up. Because I’m just a selfish child. I’m as bad as everyone thought.” He backed up farther, tears running down his face. “I put myself before them, and I’ve wrecked everything. Go talk to him. I’m so sorry.” He turned and ran down the side of the house.
Braden’s heart ripped in two. Half of it chased Ian, the other dripped pain at the idea of hurting his son.
In a fog, he walked back into the house. Taking deep breaths, he filled a glass with water from the refrigerator and drank it like it contained truth serum. Okay, get on with it. He walked down the hall. Jo-Jo’s door was shut and locked. “Jo, let me in.”
“Go to hell.”
“I need to talk to you.”
“What are you going to say?” His voice trembled. “More garbage about being gay. Well, being gay is a fucking crock and I hate you!”