Chapter 12
I insisted on going home to change before meeting Tin and Max at the bar on 14th Street. I’d been in the same clothes all day and I probably reeked. If there was any hope of getting laid, I’d have to go the extra mile and look my best. Max was a photographer who dealt with beautiful people all day and I couldn’t show up in my current state.
As usual, the subway was crowded. It was rush hour and everyone had the same thing on their mind—a drink, some food, maybe a little loving, and not necessarily in that order. There was a small group of people gathered around a cop who was querying witnesses and writing down information. I made to bypass the crowd until I realized it was Cole on the ground, with his head buried in his hands.
I knelt instinctively and shook him gently. “Cole, are you okay?”
He lifted his head and blinked at me. I cupped his cheek, hoping my touch would reassure him. The man was as pale as snow and just as frigid. “Sloan?”
“Yeah, it’s me. What happened?”
“Someone pushed me.”
“Let me help you up. Can you stand?”
He sat up and brushed his hair out of his eyes. A slight gash on his right cheek still oozed blood and it mingled with the dirt he’d picked up on the street. His hands were shaking and he gnawed on his lower lip. There was something terribly tragic about this scene I didn’t understand, and even though I’d sworn to keep him at a distance, it sparked a strong reaction. I wanted to comfort and nurture at the same time. I put an arm around his shoulder and held him tightly against my body, whispering words of reassurance. Little by little, I felt him relax.
“Can you walk?”
“I think so.”
“Let’s try, okay?”
I pulled him up gingerly. He wavered a little but eventually regained his footing. His cheeks were pink from the effort, but he looked determined to get away from the scene. The cop wanted to take down more information for his report, but Cole refused, insisting he was fine.
Hefting his backpack over my left shoulder. I put my right arm around him and held him close. “Are you sure you can walk home?”
“Were you planning to carry me if I said no?”
And just like that, the snarky asshole was back in fine form.
It was close to seven o’clock when we finally got to our building. The doorman gave us a curious once-over but didn’t say more than his usual “good evening.” In the apartment, I dropped Cole’s backpack on the floor and led him down the hallway toward the bathroom. Surprisingly, he didn’t protest but followed meekly like a child. I made him sit on the toilet seat before I rinsed a washcloth with warm water and gently wiped away the blood and grime sticking to his cheek after he nosedived.
I was as gentle as possible, determined not to hurt him, but tears rolled down his cheeks, and I freaked. “Are you in pain?”
He shook his head, wrapped his arms around my waist, and hid his face against my stomach. His shoulders shook as he broke down, the harsh sounds of anguish filling the small room, and it tore at my gut. I wanted to punch a hole in the wall, anything to make this stop until I got some answers. Instead, I helped him to his feet and enveloped him in my arms, lending my support in stricken silence. With his entire length pressed against me, we remained in place for what seemed like hours but in reality was only a few minutes. When his sobs abated, I managed to guide him toward his bedroom, hoping to put him to bed so he could sleep this off, whatever this was.
“Cole, do you have any Xanax or Valium?”
Perched on the edge of his mattress, he shook his head and swiped away more tears with the back of his hand, piercing my heart in the process. I left him to raid my secret stash.
When I returned, he dry swallowed the pill I handed him without asking any questions. I knelt to untie his shoes, urging him to lie down and rest.
“Don’t leave me,” he begged.
Too stunned to refuse, I asked for a minute and reached for my phone in my back pocket as I walked out the door. I texted Tin to let him know I wouldn’t be joining the party. I hoped Max would give me another chance.
When I returned to the room, Cole was already stretched out on the bed, lying on top of the comforter with all his clothes on. One arm was draped over his eyes while the other was stretched out, palm up, like he was expecting me to take his hand. I did and felt myself being pulled down on the bed. I toed off my shoes while Cole scooted closer, smashing his body against mine.
I’d hoped my presence would provide some comfort, but he was crying hard again and his suffering was tearing me apart. I lifted his chin and did the unthinkable. I kissed him. Salty tears mingled with saliva as he opened up for me. At first, they were tender kisses, made to comfort, but they quickly gathered heat, and even if I wanted to stop this escalating bad idea, it would have been impossible. Cole had me firmly in his grip, taking what I offered with frantic desperation, intent on erasing his pain with sex.
He threw his leg over my hips and rubbed his hard cock against mine, encouraged when he felt my corresponding boner.
“Let’s ditch the clothes,” he suggested in a ragged breath.
“Are you sure?”
His lashes were spiked with tears, but there was determination in his smoldering blue eyes. “Hurry.”
I helped him undress, unbuttoning his shirt and dropping it over the side of the bed. He unzipped and raised his hips off the bed to slide his pants and boxers down his long legs, and I grabbed the bunched denim and tossed it over my shoulder to join the rest of the mess on the floor.
His cock was as thick as I remembered, rising from a thatch of dark hair, seeping enticing beads of precum I wanted to taste again. I sucked him down and sighed happily, loving the brush of his silky rod against my tongue and relishing his unique flavor. He clutched my head with both hands, pulling at my hair as I sucked on him.
This time, he wouldn’t let me finish him off. Just as he was about to climax, he yanked me up his torso and rolled us over, bracing himself on elbows positioned by my head.
“I want more,” he admitted.
Moved by his words, I squirmed out of his reach and fumbled with my shirt and pants, practically tearing them off my body. Cole watched intently as I stripped, squinting like we were out in the noon sun. He gasped when he saw me at my hardest.
Last time we were together, I wasn’t on full display and I grinned, pleased by his reaction. The shock and awe never grew old. He reached out and coiled his fingers around my shaft. “Holy hell, Sloan.”
His admiration came out in a strangled breath and I took pity on him. “You want to rethink your strategy?”
“I just need a minute.”
He continued to focus on my cock, eyeing it suspiciously. I wanted him to blow me or at least make the attempt. When he dragged in a huge breath and folded over to take me in his mouth, the world stopped spinning on its axis. Reality far surpassed every one of my fantasies.
Cole was tentative at first but quickly found his stride. I moaned in pleasure with each stroke of his tongue. He was surprisingly good at this for a newbie, taking me deeper with each bob of his head. I forced myself to be still and not fuck his mouth out of courtesy. He was like a man possessed, though, wanting every bit of me. I was grateful and more than impressed that he could handle my size. Most of my hookups complained. Perhaps he wasn’t as inexperienced as I’d assumed.
It was good, but too intense, and I pulled out in the nick of time, preferring not to come down his throat. I honestly didn’t think he could handle it. Cole pumped my cock as I erupted like Mt. Vesuvius, and he surprised me by licking up the residue like a tabby cat scooping up the cream. I was touched by his unexpected gesture but welcomed it wholeheartedly.
When I was clean, he lay on top of me and said matter-of-factly, “I want to fuck you.”
I had no idea if he’d ever boned a guy before, and my experience was minimal at best. Nevertheless, I was sort of hoping he’d surprise me again, and I gave the go-ahead, but I did a
sk about protection. “Do you have a condom?”
He pulled out a drawer on the nightstand and handed me several packets. They were the lubricated kind, thank God. I hadn’t seen any lube lying around and preferred not to spend the rest of the night sitting in an oatmeal bath. I handed him the foil packet and watched him tear at it with his teeth like a porn star. He rolled it on with practiced hands. Now I was really curious. But there was something about him tonight that stopped me from firing a million questions. After his tearful display, he seemed determined to regain control, and I wasn’t going to stop him.
Cole pushed into me decisively, easily breaching the tight ring of muscle. When I didn’t scream and my body willingly accepted the intrusion, he kissed me ravenously. Pausing to catch a breath, he looked at me with stars in his eyes. “I had no idea it could be like this.”
So this was a first for him after all. Like an explorer who’d just discovered a new country, Cole started slow, pushing in and pulling back, while gauging my reaction. I easily matched his stride, and soon we were thrusting against each other like we’d been doing this for years.
“Feel good?” he asked breathlessly.
“God yes.”
“What’s it like?”
“Amazing.”
“Doesn’t hurt at all?”
“Stop talking and start moving.”
“Like this?” he asked, angling his hips and grazing my prostate.
I let out a soft whine. “Just like that.”
He pegged me again and again, and I cried out and clutched his biceps. I was transported to some heavenly place I couldn’t describe.
Cole looked triumphant, obviously pleased with his successful maneuvers. Through it all, I examined his face, captured by his enigmatic persona as he shed his uptight mask. The Xanax was doing a fine job of transporting him to a better place, coupled with my enthusiastic response. I wanted to remember every second, in case this never happened again.
I was teetering on the brink when Cole demanded, “Come with me.”
His renewed confidence propelled me forward, and I finished on a scream, spraying his neck and chest with ribbons of warm spunk. Cole climaxed immediately after and collapsed on my chest, panting with the effort. “That was so good.”
Good wasn’t quite the word I would have used. I was thinking more along the lines of awesome or out-of-this-fucking-world.
He was dead weight, but I didn’t push him off, enjoying the indescribable experience of being so thoroughly possessed. After a few minutes, his soft snore at my ear indicated he’d fallen asleep. I was infused with a sense of pride and ownership. Somehow, I’d managed to chase away his tears and allowed him to forget whatever was hurting so badly. It was an incredible feeling to know I had such power. I fell asleep with a smile on my face.
Chapter 13
A sliver of light pierced through the darkness, and Cole rolled over, half expecting to see Sloan but relieved that he was gone. Guilt, fear, and shame overpowered his sense of well-being, familiar feelings associated with hidden desires. Having Sloan in the flesh would have meant dealing with harsh reality, and he wasn’t ready yet.
His morning boner wasn’t as scrupulous, though, and a sudden flashback of sinking into Sloan’s body made him moan softly. The satisfaction he’d received at the hands of his mercurial roommate was more intense than anything he’d experienced with Juliana over the last few years. He felt alive for the first time since his diagnosis—yet this awareness could potentially destroy everything. His father would throw himself off the Golden Gate Bridge if he found out Cole was gay on top of everything else. The shame would be unbearable.
But there was a rebellious side to Cole he couldn’t repress. Why shouldn’t he enjoy a few unguarded moments when the rest of his life was spiraling out of control?
Juliana supposedly loved him, but her feelings were tied to the man he used to be—the successful baseball player with all the fame and glamour attached to an all-star athlete. She refused to admit he’d changed, and by anticipating all his needs, Cole never floundered in her presence. It was her misguided way of keeping the illusion alive, but it only put more pressure on him to maintain a role.
Sloan’s feelings, on the other hand, were unadulterated. There was no agenda he had to deal with, no pretense of a happy-ever-after. It was all about the moment and sexual satisfaction at its finest. Sloan didn’t want to marry him and have a family. He wanted to fuck and suck until they ran out of energy, which was the only thing Cole could offer right then. Weren’t gay men only interested in sex anyhow? They didn’t want to be tied down by heteronormative rules of engagement. It was liberating in more ways than he could count, and Cole envied their carefree attitude.
But was it really cut-and-dried or were their nuances he hadn’t ascertained because he didn’t know any gay couples? He thought about Sloan and the way he’d behaved at the scene of his accident last night. He’d been protective without demeaning him. Sloan had comforted him at his lowest, and Cole never detected an ounce of pity or disgust. And his caring attitude had carried over to the bedroom. Sloan treated him like a vibrant male, not a has-been who required coaxing at every level. More importantly, he didn’t act like a sex fiend who only wanted to get off. Sloan was generous in his lovemaking, giving to a fault, and allowed Cole to indulge his every whim. It felt like he had feelings for him, which was inconsistent with his theory.
In ancient times, close relationships between men were mainly about shared experiences and learning. It had nothing to do with their sexual orientation, and if it was good enough for the Greeks, Romans, and Japanese warriors, why shouldn’t it be good enough for them? Sloan had issues with drugs, from what Cole had observed in the last few days, and he could help him get clean, teach him how to eat right, and respect his body.
And if Sloan agreed, they could have it all, just like philosophers and warriors in the past, including great sex. No one would have to know. Sloan shouldn’t expect him to walk at a Pride parade. He wasn’t gay, Cole scoffed. If anything, he was bisexual—a huge difference.
He rubbed the crusty remnants of Sloan’s semen off his chest, a fresh reminder of last night. Taking himself in hand, he stroked languidly, thinking of Sloan and the way he’d writhed underneath him. What was it about the guy that turned him upside down? He was no bodybuilder, from the little he could see and feel. Sloan was more sinew than bulk, and parts of him felt rough and scaly, almost as if he were malnourished. He could definitely use some mentoring in the food department. But his lips were spectacular and his tongue could do wicked things Cole had only previously imagined. When he looked closely enough to see into the gunmetal-gray eyes, he felt safe. It was irrational, but there was a deep connection on some primal level that had always existed between them.
I walked into the room and Cole turned in my direction and grinned. It was a huge relief because I’d expected another scene like the last one. In fact, I was bracing for a fight or another round of self-recrimination, at least, and so his smile was a refreshing sight.
“Hey,” he said softly. “Come here.”
I’d thrown on a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt after leaving his bed earlier. I was uncomfortable walking around naked, and I sure as hell didn’t want him to see the scars on my thighs. He hadn’t mentioned them so far, even though I was pretty sure he’d felt them last night. One look at my mutilated flesh would start a conversation I didn’t feel like getting into right then.
I moved closer and stood in between his legs. He wrapped his arms around my waist, pressing his cheek to my belly and holding me tight. I was surprised but delighted nonetheless. Cole was an enigma I’d just begun to explore. I lifted his chin and kissed him, loving the way he opened up for me. He slipped his tongue into my mouth and outlined my lips gently, making my cock swell. I sighed and twirled my tongue around his, while I raked my fingers through his inky hair, loving the feel of its silky softness.
Everything about Cole was a turn-on, so I voiced no obj
ections when he pulled me onto the bed with him. I lay prone on his naked body, feeling his erection pressing against mine. “Take off your pants,” he commanded in a husky voice that made my breath hitch.
I shoved my sweats down and kicked them away. We began to grind against each other while kissing and making incoherent noises. I could feel his need as our fluids mingled, allowing us to slide back and forth easily. He held my ass and squeezed, pressing me hard against him. It was fast and frantic, this crazy desire that roared through us, like a blast of air ripping through a wind tunnel. We were desperate to come, rubbing and humping like teenagers on our first date.
“Sloan,” he growled while he came in hot spurts, triggering my own orgasm. The room was redolent with our smell, the pungent odor of musk and male arousal enveloping us. Little by little, our bodies relaxed, the thudding of combined heartbeats loud in my ears.
“Good morning,” I said breathlessly.
He chuckled. “No kidding.”
“Did you sleep well?” I asked, knowing his answer. He hadn’t stirred all night.
“Yes. Thank you.”
“No need to thank me. I enjoyed every minute of it.”
“Even the pitiful crying jag?”
“Hey,” I said, kissing him on the cheek. “None of that, okay?”
He wrapped his arms around me and sighed. “What am I going to do with you?”
“You don’t have to do anything.”
“Good.”
“What do you mean good?” The change in his tone prompted my question.
“Well, I wasn’t planning on running out and buying you a ring.”
I pulled away from him and frowned. “I never expected a proposal.”
“I know. It’s all about fucking with your kind, isn’t it?”
“My kind?” The words came out slowly as my hackles rose.
“Yeah, you gays. It’s all about sex, isn’t it?”
“Us gays?” I sneered a little. “I seem to recall you sucking on my cock, or was it a dream?”
Cutting Cords (Cutting Cords Series Book 1) Page 8