Inertia: Impulse, Book One

by Amelia C. Gormley

  He shrugged it off. “My job’s low-stress, so I don’t feel the need to take many vacations.”

  Gavin nodded and grinned again. “Well, if you don’t need to get home immediately, maybe I can interest you in taking a shower with me?”

  Derrick straightened from putting his empty glass in the dishwasher, smiling. “Now that sounds like a great idea.”

  “Good.” Gavin caught Derrick with an arm around his waist and drew him close, backing him against the breakfast bar and kissing him firmly for the first time since they’d woken. The effect was immediate. Everything in Derrick, with the notable exception of a single body part, went warm and soft, melting. His hands itched to be on Gavin again.

  “Good morning.” Gavin looked ridiculously pleased with himself when he drew back and Derrick felt his own mouth curving in what he suspected was a rather goofy smile.

  “Morning.”

  Best I’ve had in years, Derrick thought as Gavin led him to the shower.

  He wondered how long it would be before it stopped feeling this way.

  IF DERRICK HAD THOUGHT his distraction after his date with Gavin the week before had been worthy of teasing from Devon, it was nothing compared to the I just got laid satisfaction oozing from his pores when he met Devon for pool Saturday night. The situation wasn’t helped by the memories of the shower and Gavin’s tongue on his ass he kept flashing back to every time he tried to focus in on the conversation. Strangely, though, Devon asked him no questions. He just gave Derrick a ridiculously pleased smile and said the first pitcher was on him.

  When he called Gavin from bed that night, groggy and relaxed with too little sleep and too much beer, it was all he could do not to ask Gavin over for another round.

  “I kinda wish I’d asked you to come back over tonight,” Gavin murmured.

  “I was just thinking the same thing.”

  “Okay, so if we both want this, and we agreed we’d just do what feels right, why didn’t either of us say anything earlier?”

  Derrick shrugged, smiling wryly. “Hell if I know. We’re probably trying to play it cool, not seem too needy or something stupid like that.”

  Gavin snorted. “Screw needy. I’m horny. What are you doing tomorrow?”

  When he’d stopped laughing and caught his breath, Derrick answered, “I have church in the morning, and then I take my elderly neighbor to the supermarket in the afternoon. After that I’m free, though.”

  “Come over for dinner?”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Good. Bring an overnight bag? Or do you have a no sleepovers rule on work-nights?”

  “Last I checked, I didn’t have any rules at all for this sort of thing. I think I can handle being short of sleep Monday if you can.”

  He could almost hear Gavin’s cheeky grin over the phone. “Count on it.”

  Miss Ingrid, with her usual sharp insight, began smiling before they were halfway to the market, managing to skirt just around the edges of being truly smug.

  “You seem to be in better spirits,” she remarked breezily, looking out the window rather than scrutinizing him.

  Jesus, he really was wearing a just got laid sign around his neck, wasn’t he?

  Derrick allowed himself a slight lift of his lips and a noncommittal nod. “Thank you, ma’am. I am.”

  After a moment of silence, he saw her glance in his direction with eyes narrowed in mock annoyance.

  “Are you really planning to torture a bored old woman with her own curiosity?”

  Derrick’s lips twitched before his face went innocent and blank. “‘Course not, ma’am. I’d never treat a nice elderly lady in such a way,” he protested.

  She chuckled. “Of course. An interfering old biddy, however, is another matter, I’m sure.”

  “I would never call a nice elderly lady that, either.”

  He lost his battle with the urge to smile when she laughed aloud.

  “Well, I hope you’re happy with your young man.”

  Derrick shook his head. “His name’s Gavin. And he’s not— We’re not— It’s a good time. I mean, maybe someday, but not anything more just now.”

  “Then enjoy your good time,” she murmured, patting his knee as he parked his truck outside the supermarket.

  He spent the rest of the afternoon with Chelsea, offering her plenty of face-time and reassurance. Her sad eyes as Derrick packed his overnight bag, however, made him promise that he’d spend the next night at home with her, with or without Gavin.

  When he got to Gavin’s, he found Gavin had brought home sushi takeout for dinner.

  Derrick eyed it skeptically.

  “Don’t like sushi?” Gavin asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “Never tried it,” Derrick murmured, setting down his bag, trying to push all the unappetizing descriptions he’d heard about sushi from his mind. “It’s a bit outside my usual. I mean, come on. My mom’s family was from the South, Gramps’ parents came here from England just before he was born and Gram’s parents were the descendants of German immigrants from up near Frankenmuth. I can’t help but be a meat and potatoes guy.” He grinned. “Bratwurst is about as exotic as I tend to get.”

  “I can make something else, if you’d like.”

  Derrick shook his head, sitting down at the table. “Nope. Can’t say I don’t like it until I try it, can I?”

  To his pleased surprise, the sushi was quite tasty. He doubted it would ever feel truly filling to him, since his preference tended toward heavier food, but he enjoyed the flavor. After dinner, he busied himself cleaning the kitchen while Gavin stepped out on the balcony to smoke.

  Unlike last time, he knew he wouldn’t be running out, or asked to leave. He knew without a doubt where matters would head soon. The knowledge left his heart racing and his hands shaky. Friday night, he hadn’t planned for it, hadn’t anticipated it. He’d just plunged in and it had happened.

  This was different. Nerve wracking and wonderful at the same time. When Gavin came back inside and completed his ritual of washing his hands and brushing his teeth, they would go to bed together. With each moment that ticked away, Derrick’s sense of nervous anticipation increased, driving him steadily crazy. It wasn’t like him, to need something this much. He wondered if he’d released something that couldn’t be easily contained again—if ever.

  He dried his hands on a dish towel and hung it on a hook as Gavin came in from the balcony and disappeared into the bathroom. He returned and leaned against the island counter, smiling. “Thank you, by the way.”

  “For what?” Derrick asked, glancing around the kitchen to see if any dirty dishes or smudges still lurked before he called the job done.

  “For taking care of the dishes. I appreciate it.”

  “Least I could do, after you had me over to dinner.” Derrick shrugged, leaning against the counter opposite Gavin. His mouth twitched as he took in their positioning. What had been so easy to banter about last night on the phone felt different now, face to face. The air was thick with expectation; his skin tingled in anticipation of the first touch.

  He licked his bottom lip, staring at Gavin. He should just close the distance and be done with it, but he couldn’t quite seem to push aside his nerves enough to make himself do it. It was more now. In ways he couldn’t possibly hope to understand, whatever was happening here between them was more. And it terrified him just how much he wanted it. To move forward, to follow where this would lead, to live again.

  But doing so meant leaving behind everything that was comfortable and safe.

  Was it experience, or just greater courage that made Gavin make the first move instead? Gavin reached out to run a finger down the front of Derrick’s shirt from the notch in his collarbone to the bottom of his sternum.

  “I think your company was repayment enough, but all right, then. I can accept help with the chores.”

  “Good.” Derrick gave a self-conscious laugh. “It’s goofy but I kinda like cleaning.”

  Gavi
n’s smile broadened with delighted amusement. “I can’t say it’s an interest I share but maybe that might work out for the best, then.”

  It sounded very much like Gavin intended to make a habit of this. Derrick couldn’t decide if the notion alleviated his confusion or not. He didn’t have much time to think on it, however, before Gavin took another step forward and brushed his lips across Derrick’s. The kiss was soft, inquiring. Gavin’s scent surrounded him and Derrick slid his hands up Gavin’s arms and around his neck.

  “Time for my goofy confession.” Derrick felt Gavin’s lips curve against his mouth. “I think you taste wonderful.”

  “I don’t find that goofy,” Derrick murmured with a quiet laugh. His fingers brushed the stubble just below the hairline at the back of Gavin’s neck. “Thank you. I’m really, really enjoying myself.”

  Gavin’s hands came up, resting on Derrick’s chest. He didn’t grope, but the pressure of his hands, the heat of his palms over Derrick’s nipples made the taut-wire tension that had been pulling on Derrick all day even tighter.

  Gavin kissed him again, with no more intent or aggression than before. “I am, too. It just feels good. Very good.”

  “It does.” Derrick deepened the kiss himself, his lips parting, tugging at Gavin’s, breaking off to murmur, “I’ve wanted your hands on me since I walked in the door.”

  “So have I. It’s been really difficult. More so than I ever remember it being. It’s a little scary, isn’t it? Wanting something this badly.”

  “Yeah.” His skin prickled at how eerily Gavin echoed his own musings. He was getting carried away and he knew it, and everything in him that was cautious and rational kept telling him to pull it back in. But the feeling of being in motion again after so many years was just too heady and wonderful. “I’m not used to it.”

  “I’m not used to it either. Not like this.” Before Derrick could ask Gavin what he meant, Gavin’s kisses changed. No longer inquiring, they coaxed, urging Derrick’s mouth open. His tongue flicked at Derrick’s lips. Slow. Maddeningly gentle.

  Derrick heard a low, urgent sound and realized it had come from him. In an instant, Gavin’s kiss became harder, firmer, his body pressing against Derrick’s. Derrick’s hands tightened on Gavin’s shoulders, and he moaned into the kiss.

  He swallowed once Gavin drew away, his jeans too tight and his pulse too fast. “We gonna stand here in the kitchen all night, then? Not that I mind making out, but sooner or later, not standing up might be a better idea.”

  “And where would you rather be?”

  Tired of skirting around it, he pulled away, meeting Gavin’s eyes, frank and determined. “I think you already know. I’m not sure why I’m playing coy. Not sure why either of us are.”

  Something sad and uncertain passed through Gavin’s eyes, his voice dropping as he ducked his head a bit. “Because I want every part of this to be your decision. That’s why.”

  Derrick blinked. “I’m not sure what you mean by that. Since I walked through that door the other night, have I given you any reason to believe I’m not into this?”

  “No, you haven’t.” Gavin sighed. “I just don’t want to feel like I’m pressuring you. Really, this is all me, not you.”

  Derrick frowned, trying to reconcile this worry of Gavin’s with the self-assured man who’d started out coming on to him so strong.

  Was it just the HIV thing? Or a lingering fear of being wrong at every turn, the way he’d said it had been with his ex?

  Or was he afraid of becoming his ex? Did he really think himself capable of forcing his will on someone else?

  Derrick didn’t know, and he didn’t think now was the best time to ask. Maybe there was a ceiling on how much he should expect Gavin to bare his soul, considering he wasn’t exactly coming clean with Gavin himself.

  “You’re not pressuring me,” he answered instead. “Not even a little. If I freeze up from time to time, it’s because I have no idea what I’m doing. Not just—not just the sex. Being with someone. Frankly, the guidance helps.”

  “I’m also afraid of pushing this too fast.”

  “We might just both be guilty of that,” Derrick murmured. “And you know what? I can’t seem to find it in me to care.”

  “Okay. Good.” Gavin kissed him hard, aggressively, full of the same brand of wanting that had been snarling within Derrick’s head all day, itching to break its leash. Which it did, and Derrick clutched at Gavin, groped. They tugged at each other’s shirts, ravenous for the touch of flesh.

  They ended up on the kitchen floor. Gavin settled between his thighs, his lean back bare under Derrick’s grasping fingers. He met the roll of Derrick’s hips, the pressure just right, and Derrick groaned.

  “You feel good.” He raked his blunted fingers down Gavin’s back, enjoying the way Gavin’s spine arched in response. He kissed and nipped and sucked at Gavin’s neck and shoulders. Gavin’s groans were feral and desperate, his fingers wrenching a moan from Derrick as they pinched his nipples.

  God, he was right. It is better when it hurts.

  Derrick’s arching response brought their cocks rubbing together again, and his fingers dug in to the flesh of Gavin’s back. Gavin raised himself up far enough to grasp Derrick’s belt and pulled it out of its buckle with an impatient jerk, tugging at the button and zip of his fly. He thrust his hand down Derrick’s briefs, gripping his dick, and Derrick’s hips came up off the floor.

  “Fuck!” he groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head for a moment before he opened them again, staring at Gavin wildly. “Oh, God, please.”

  Gavin continued those firm, limited strokes. “Please, what?” he asked, looking almost predatory, his grin tight and savage as he looked down at Derrick.

  “Shit,” Derrick panted. “I don’t know. Anything. Everything. Just… keep going…”

  “I will.” Gavin’s hand kept moving, and Derrick bucked into his grasp, groaning with impatience and pushing at his jeans, trying to work them down over his hips without disrupting Gavin’s strokes. He began to laugh as he wriggled and shifted, tickled by the absurdity, and Gavin joined in. The laughter made it even better, for a moment, transforming raw, urgent, frankly scary need into something that was also fun. But then the laughter faded, and the need screamed within them again.

  There was nothing amused in Gavin’s eyes as he rose, towering over Derrick as he lay on the floor, and opened his own jeans, making a show of each button undone. He pushed them down and kicked them aside, then turned to the counter to look for something. Derrick was pretty sure Gavin deliberately stood so he had a nearly straight-line view up between his legs. The swinging weight of his balls, the crack of his ass, the pale, sparse hair covering the backs of his thighs, tapering off to almost bare skin at the top.

  His cock, bobbing before him, driving Derrick wild with the longing to touch and smell and taste.

  When Gavin knelt again between Derrick’s thighs, he had a small bottle of salad oil in his hand. Derrick licked his lips, no longer thinking of humor, as Gavin drizzled it over his dick, a fair amount of it pooling in the hollow cut-outs before his hips, sliding down the crease of his groin. With what would be his last rational thought for a while, Derrick realized one of them would have to mop the floor in the morning. Then Gavin capped the oil and reached up to set it on the island. He leaned down, bracing a hand on the floor beside Derrick’s shoulder and wrapped the other around Derrick’s cock.

  Derrick groaned, his head rolling back and his eyes snapping shut as Gavin’s slick hand began to pump. “Oh! Yeah….”

  “No. Look at me.” A note of command gave an edge to Gavin’s voice, determined and undeniable. The pressure in Derrick’s balls tightened; his stomach dropped a bit with something that felt just the closest bit like fear mingling with arousal. When he blinked his eyes open again, Gavin had pulled his lip between his teeth, his eyes hot and intent. His hand curled around the head of Derrick’s cock and Derrick struggled to keep his eyes from closing again.


  “You look so fucking gorgeous when I do this.”

  He felt his face heating up, but he couldn’t catch his breath enough to demur. His spine arched off the floor, the motion moving like a wave through his body.

  Gavin’s grip tightened on his cock. “You look gorgeous when you blush, too. Keep moving. Just like that. God, you’re so beautiful.”

  Everything was an exquisite agony of self-consciousness combined with pleasure so intense it almost hurt. His skin was flushed, sweating. His chest heaved as he gasped for each sobbing breath. The only thing more excruciating than the rapid approach of his climax was when Gavin drew his hand away. He swiped it through the oil pooled on Derrick’s belly and slicked it over his own cock before he let his knees slide out from under him, his hips pressing flush against Derrick’s and their cocks lining up.

  Gavin took them both in his long, lean fingers and started pumping, still propped up on one arm.

  “Oh, God….” Derrick groaned, lifting his head to peer down the gap between their chests, where the heads of their dicks appeared through the ring of Gavin’s lean, elegant fingers, then retreated. Gavin’s hips moved, adding to the push.

  In the reflection of the glass door of the stove, it looked for all the world like Gavin was fucking him.

  Derrick stared at the image, the tension in his balls ratcheting up, screaming and straining toward orgasm. Only Gavin’s voice, firm and insistent, drew him away from it.

  “Look at me!”

  Derrick’s eyes gravitated to Gavin’s face. It was set, intent, his eyes burning as he stared down at Derrick. His pale skin began to shine with sweat, flushed beneath his freckles. The longer Derrick fought to keep his eyes open, his fingers scrabbling against the cool tile of the floor, the more intense his impending orgasm became. It hovered out of reach, held at bay by the effort of maintaining eye contact.

  And finally it burst free, ripping a shout from Derrick’s throat. His eyes slammed shut and his face contorted, the pleasure so fucking intense it hurt. The hot spray of his own cum splashed against his skin, and through the pounding of his pulse in his ears and the ragged sound of his own gasping breath, he heard Gavin’s soft growl.