by Jo Adler
He scowls and leans toward the table. “What do you mean if? I wouldn’t ask you if I wasn’t serious.”
I smile. “Do you mind if I ask you a couple of questions right now about last night?”
Nick makes a face. “Oh, no,” he mumbles. “Did I say something stupid after you found me?”
“Not at all,” I reply. “You didn’t say too much. Do you remember telling me that the man who hit you was wearing a jacket with red roses on the back?”
Nick takes a moment, shifting in the chair and glancing down at a pile of magazines on the table. His eyes shift left and right a few times. The frown on his face deepens, like he’s searching his memory and coming up empty.
“We don’t have to talk about it,” I say. “The last thing that I want to do is make you uncomfortable.”
He pulls in a long breath and then his eyes find mine. “It’s okay. I was just trying to remember if I actually saw their faces, but it’s mostly kind of a blur. They turned out the light above your front door, so it was mainly the streetlamps at that point.”
I nod. “And they don’t do much. I’ve lived on this block for almost ten years. I know how pitch black it can be out there.”
Nick nods. “Basically. But I did see his coat. There were three red roses on the back.”
“That’s really good,” I say. “You mentioned that, but I wanted to see if you thought it was one of the guys last night or a memory from another time.”
His gaze widens. “It was definitely the guy that hit me. He was wearing a ball cap and a leather jacket. When he was walking away, I got a good look as he went beneath one of the streetlamps. There were three roses, like big ones that had been painted on. At first, I thought it was a skull. But when he passed under the second or third lamp, I definitely saw roses.”
I clear my throat and sit back in the chair. “I know someone who owns a coat like that,” I tell Nick. “He works for Devon at Dirty Secrets. He has a fairly sketchy past, but I thought—”
“Is it Blake?”
I’m surprised by his guess, but confirm that he’s right. Then I say, “If you saw him here last night, I’m pretty sure that I know who he was with. My nephew and Blake are pals, but they’ve been on a slippery slope in the past year or so.”
“What do you mean?” Nick asks. “Drugs or something?”
“Drugs and everything,” I answer with a melancholy shrug. “Liam’s been struggling with addiction since he was sixteen. My sister and her ex-husband have been as patient as they can be, but Liam knows how to manipulate them too easily. I invited him to live with me for a while, hoping it would help, but it was a disaster.”
“So…last night?” He pauses for a long second. “Was that your nephew moving his things out or were they stealing from you?”
“I’m afraid it’s the latter,” I say. “Liam’s entire life can fit in a cardboard box at this point.”
“Okay, so…” He stops again, squinting into the distance. “If you’re sure it was those two, maybe we should let the police know.”
I smile. “Way ahead of you, handsome. I know a private detective who does some work for my company every now and then. I talked to him last night after I got you settled in bed.”
“What did he say?”
“Well, most importantly, he suggested that I have this conversation with you,” I tell Nick. “I promised him that we’d be in touch today after we discuss pressing charges.”
He gulps in a breath. “And then what?”
“Then it’ll be out of our hands,” I say. “I’ve coddled my nephew far too long. When he was pinching money out of my wallet, I looked the other way. Somewhere beneath all the bluster and bravado and pain, Liam’s a good kid. But the stunt he and Blake pulled last night, especially roughing you up for witnessing their latest feat of stupidity, that simply cannot be ignored.”
“What will happen if the police find them?”
“First, we have to decide about pressing charges for assault and burglary,” I tell him. “Liam wasn’t aware of this, but I installed cameras throughout the house a couple of months ago. I have them on tape stealing my artwork, a few family heirlooms, some clothing and a bunch of other things.”
He smirks. “That’s a pretty shitty thing to do.”
“It’s not all that surprising,” I say. “Everyone kept telling me to change the locks, but I was in denial. I didn’t believe that Liam would cross that line. He ambushed me at a client dinner a few nights ago, threatening to do something drastic if I didn’t loan him more money. Even then, I couldn’t imagine that he would burglarize my home.”
“Learned that one the hard way, huh?” Nick says with a grin.
I laugh. “I suppose so. I don’t really care about the clothes, but some of the art is very valuable and the family things are irreplaceable.”
Nick brushes one hand through his hair. “And then he’ll be arrested?”
“They both will if we decide to press charges.” I feel a spike of nerves about my sister. “Liam’s mother might never talk to me again, but he needs to get the message that his life is spiraling out of control.”
“I’m sorry all of that is happening to you,” Nick says.
“And I’m sorry that Liam and Blake keep making poor choices,” I reply.
When Nick goes quiet, I offer to make him a smoothie. He declines again, but then the smirk on his face slowly expands into a toothy grin.
“What’s that all about?” I say.
“Can I ask you something?” His voice is low and husky. “I mean, if you don’t mind.”
“Anything,” I say with a smile. “Unless you’re going to ask me to make omelets for breakfast.”
He stares at me for a few seconds. “I know how if you don’t.”
I laugh. “I make a mean omelet,” I tell him, “but we’re all out of eggs at the minute.”
“Ah, got it,” he replies.
Something crosses his face, a flicker of playfulness. Then he says, “Would it be okay if I kiss you right now?”
The question sends a jolt of heat to my cock. As I nod and Nick gets up from his chair, I feel it swelling against my boxer shorts. When he leans down and our lips touch, I have the sudden urge to get up from my chair, clear everything from the table with one sweep of my arm and then gently lift Nick off his feet and stretch him across the expanse of deep mahogany.
“Thank you for last night,” he says, resting one hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry if it messed up your plans, but—”
I stop the needless apology by reaching out, cupping the back of his neck with my fingers and pulling him toward me. Our mouths melt together for a few seconds before I slide my tongue along his lower lip. He moans, kneels beside the chair and drops one hand into my crotch.
“You feel so good.” He whimpers as I guide my hand down his back, under the waistband of the sweatpants and between his cheeks. “I want you to—” He pulls back and his eyes go wide when I press the tip of one finger against his tender hole. “—to fuck me again, please!”
39
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NICK
Adam’s bedroom is dark and cool as we strip off our clothes and collapse onto the mattress in a tangle of arms and legs and panting breaths.
“You feel so good, boy.” His voice is raw and hungry, summoning a memory of our time together in the suite at Dirty Secrets. “But are you sure this isn’t too soon after—”
I silence the query by rolling onto my side and slipping my tongue into his mouth. When I come up for air, he pushes me onto my back. Then he shifts around until he’s on his knees between my legs, smiling as his eyes travel from my face to my throbbing cock.
“So beautiful,” he whispers. “In every way.”
My face warms. “Thank you, Daddy.”
He smiles. Then he slides both hands under my knees and pushes my legs toward my chest.
“Hold these,” he says. “I want a good look at you.”
I feel more vulnerable
than ever as Adam presses his palms against my ass, gently parting the cheeks.
“Fuck,” he gasps. “I need to be inside of you again, boy.”
“I’m ready,” I moan, tightening my grip and lifting my ass higher. “Do you have what we need?”
He slides one finger into his mouth, wets it with saliva and then presses it against my hole. He keeps it there for a few moments before slowly circling the tender flesh.
“This is what you need first,” he says with a crooked grin. “One finger and then two while you stroke yourself.”
Heat flares in my balls as Adam brushes them with his thumb while rubbing my hole with the wet finger. I fall back against the pillows, close my eyes and yield to the moment. I don’t want to think about anything beyond this room. Not the incident last night. Not the misunderstanding about his nephew. And not my own doubt about trusting Adam.
“Stay there,” he orders. “I’ll get what we need.”
He gets up and walks around the bed to the nightstand. While he retrieves the condom and lube, I think about his thick cock. I close my eyes and picture the gleaming shaft as he pounded me in the suite at Dirty Secrets. Then I recall the way he looked at me right before our first kiss. When he closes the drawer in the bedside table, the images melt away.
“You look amazing, boy,” he whispers. “So handsome and exposed.”
A moment later, after he kneels on the bed again, he slathers the cool lube between my legs. Then he goes back to circling my hole with his finger and rubbing my balls.
“Take a few deep breaths,” he says gently.
I follow his direction. Filling my lungs, listening to my heart pounding in my ears and then sensing that he’s shifting his position again. My breath hitches when he slides one finger in completely. I focus on relaxing the muscles in my lower back as he plunges deep and withdraws slowly.
“More,” I rasp, sliding one hand around my cock. “Give me more, please.”
Adam growls. “Somebody needs a pounding this morning, huh?”
I can only moan in response as he inserts a second finger. He works it like a piston, thrusting deep and then taking it out, varying the pace and grazing my prostrate a few times. When the tempo slows, Adam instructs me to wait again. Then he slides the fingers out completely, rips open the condom wrapper and slips the ribbed sleeve onto his brawny dick.
Our eyes lock and he pushes the tip against my greedy hole. I lift my ass and rock into him, gasping loudly when he slots the head and begins pushing forward.
“Too much?” His voice is tender and affectionate. “I don’t want to hurt you, Nick.”
“Not too much,” I reply. “I’m yours, Daddy.”
He stops for a moment. “Let’s set aside the role play for now,” he suggests. “Would that be okay with you?”
I nod, but the flood of passion that fills me makes it impossible to speak. I simply fix my eyes on his face as he glides into me and begins the intoxicating, cadenced strokes that have me seeing stars in no time at all.
“This is what we both need,” Adam says, leaning forward and licking my mouth with his tongue. “Just the two of us.”
He tilts away again, gazing down at me with a need that’s flecked with something more. For a split second, my mind tries to identify the other elements, but then Adam increases the pace. He pounds into me, balls slapping my taint, fingers digging into my ankles.
I hiss in a breath. “I’m close,” I rasp. “Do you want me to come?”
His face, damp with sweat, is more relaxed than I’ve seen it. There’s a haze of bliss in his eyes as he smiles and nods.
“Fuck, yes!” he says. “I’m right with you.”
My fist hammers at a frenzied pace, grating against the smooth skin and muscle until a geyser of pearly cum erupts from the head. It splatters my chest and stomach with the familiar warmth and earthy tang.
Adam grins. “That’s fucking perfect!” he says. “So…fucking…beautiful.”
I hold steady as his cock throbs in my passage. He maintains a feverish rhythm that accelerates with each stroke until he finally throws back his head, pushes out his chest and issues a cry that is the perfect union of ecstasy and ache.
40
▬ ☼ ▬
ADAM
We’re sprawled on the bed an hour later, curled beneath a fleece blanket like two stowaways hiding from the world. When my phone rings in the kitchen, I ignore the clanging interruption and keep myself pressed into Nick’s warmth. His head is tucked against my shoulder and I can feel the vein in his neck pulsing with a strong, steady tempo. After a horn squeals on the street below, he clears his throat and slowly shifts onto one elbow.
“I like this.” It’s a whispered confession. “It feels…right.”
I slide my hand up the middle of his back and brush the hair from his eyes. They glimmer with an easy, relaxed contentment that makes him look even more striking.
“Penny for your thoughts,” he says.
“That sounds odd coming out of your mouth.” I smile. “I mean, guys your age don’t usually say things like that.”
He smirks. “I learned it from my grandmother. She used to say it all the time. I went to her house after school until I was old enough to be on my own. She was always baking or sewing, so I’d do my homework at the kitchen table. But I found it really hard to concentrate, so I usually just listened to her stories and asked a million questions.”
“It sounds like you got along with her nicely.”
He snickers cheerfully. “She was a wackadoodle, but we all loved her. That was way before the show about hoarders, but she would’ve fit right in. My grandmother never threw anything away.”
I give him a look. “Did you inherit the hoarding gene?”
“Possibly.” He purses his lips. “But it’s mainly with things like running shoes, tubes of acrylic paint and brushes from Winsor & Newton.”
“Well, that makes sense.” I pull him down against my shoulder again. “You’re an artist. And I can’t imagine anything more important to you.”
He laughs. “I can think of at least two or three others, but I can’t paint without supplies.”
“What are the other things?” I ask. “What do you really like?”
He sighs. “Oh, I bet you can guess.”
“Quinoa and tofu?”
“Fuck, no!” He reaches down and jostles my cock. “This would be one.” Then he lifts the hand and rests the tip of a finger against my lips. “And your mouth.”
I turn toward him and kiss his forehead. “That’s sweet.”
He murmurs, burrowing deeper against me. “You’re sweet. I’m glad that we got another chance to connect. After I messed up everything last week, I didn’t think I’d see you again.”
“You didn’t mess up anything. It was a simple misunderstanding.”
“I don’t know about that,” he replies with a sigh. “I’m not the best at communicating sometimes. And I jump to conclusions way too fast, usually without asking a few basic questions.”
“I think that makes you human.”
He snorts. “And most humans are flawed as fuck.”
“I’m not going to argue about that,” I tell him. “We all have something.”
His hand slides down my stomach. “Yep.” His fingers encircle my cock. “You have this.”
I give him a wink. “I do have that. And you’re welcome to have it too, handsome. As much as you can handle and as often as you can take it.”
He blushes, turning the rest of his face the same crimson shade as the scrapes from the night before.
“What now?” he asks.
I pull him closer. Then I kiss the top of his head and run my hand down his back to the gentle swell of his sculpted ass.
“How about a shower?” I say. “And then lunch followed by a walk through Central Park?”
Nick sighs contentedly. “That sounds more perfect than anything.”
I can’t help but flash a smile. “There’s at lea
st one other thing that might be even better,” I say. “But we can do that again later when we get back here.”
He frowns. “I’m sorry, but I have to work tonight for Dede.”
I reach over, slide one finger under his chin and gently lift it until our eyes meet.
“You know what?” I ask.
Nick shakes his head.
“I’m a very patient man,” I tell him. “I can wait until you finish work.”
“Or maybe you should order a pizza,” he says with a naughty grin. “I’ve always wondered if the cliché would be as hot in real life as it looks in the videos.”
I laugh. “I bet it is,” I say, “but we’ll have fun finding out one way or the other.”
41
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ADAM
Nick slides into the backseat of the cab and I follow, putting one hand on his knee as the driver asks for our destination. I give him the address of a new restaurant near Lincoln Center and slide my hand toward the prominent bulge in Nick’s shorts.
“Hey,” he whispers. “What’re you doing?”
I laugh at his grimace. “Just being friendly, handsome. Does that bother you?”
He glances at the driver. “How about being chill for now?” he asks. “I’m not that big on public displays of—”
“Lust?”
He smirks. “You know what I’m saying.”
“Uh-huh.” I give him a big grin. “You’re saying that you like to fly below the radar.”
I watch as Nick considers the reply. From the squint and huffed breath, I get the feeling that he’s taking it as criticism rather than a bit of teasing. I lift the hand, jab his thigh a few times and then move it to my own leg.
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, handsome. If I do anything else that bugs you, please let me know.”
He turns and winks. “Likewise, mister.” His mouth blooms into a stunning smile. “Life’s a two-way street.”