by James, J. P.
“Yes.” My voice cracks. “What about him?”
“Sir, I hate to have to inform you that there’s been an accident-”
“An accident?” I interrupt. “What kind of accident?” Oh God, my heart is racing and my stomach is turning. I need answers. I need to know what happened to Ryan.
“A car accident,” he continues. “Mr. Solow was driving down Jackson Road, just above the cliff. He was going too fast and when he came around the sharp bend his car flipped over the railing,” he pauses again and the phone is silent on both ends. He hasn’t said it yet, but I know what he’s trying to tell me. “I’m sorry, but your husband didn’t make it.”
My trembling hand drops the phone to the ground. My ears must be deceiving me. Ryan can’t be dead because we just got married today. No, this can’t be. I refuse to believe it. My husband is going to arrive any minute now. He has to. I can’t become a widower on the same day I became a husband. Officer Giles must be mistaken. Maybe he’s confusing my Ryan with someone else.
Suddenly, I realize this is no joke. This is not a crank call. My heart feels like someone stuck a knife in it and my head feels like it’s about to explode. Oh my gosh, Ryan is dead! How can this be? We just exchanged vows earlier today. Tears rush down my cheeks as I try to fight the urge to vomit. I’m sick to my stomach over this horrific news. My knees buckle as I keel over holding my belly. Everyone is still inside celebrating our union, but they have no idea that this joyous day has just turned tragic. My body is too weak to muster up the strength to go back inside and tell them about what happened. My breathing becomes shallow and I’m starting to feel light headed. I crumble to the ground and everything goes black.
I slowly open my eyes. My head’s pounding, but thankfully the lights aren’t bright. My mind feels cloudy and I can’t remember a thing. I sit up slowly and look around. The setting’s unfamiliar. It’s someone’s hotel room, but I don’t recognize it. Where am I and how did I get here?
My throbbing head makes it impossible to piece anything together. I glance down the crumpled blue suit I’m wearing and try to think back to my wedding reception. Maybe I had one too many mason jars of moonshine. But even so, where’s Ryan? We planned on spending our wedding night in a hotel, but not one as nice as this. The sheets on this king size mattress feel like Egyptian cotton and a sparkling chandelier hangs from the center of the ceiling. A bottle of champagne sits in a bucket of ice next to a tray of strawberries. Maybe all of this is Ryan’s way of surprising me? He probably wanted our first night together as a married couple to be really special.
I smile at my husband’s romantic gesture. Maybe our marriage really will be filled with passion and desire. I hear a toilet flush. Ah ha! He must be in the bathroom washing up. I struggle out of my jacket and pull my dress shirt open, like a groom who can’t wait to see his new husband. But the man who comes out of the bathroom isn’t Ryan at all. Instead, it’s Bryce. My mouth drops open as my pulse races. What’s happening?
7
Bryce
I splash some cold water on my face, as if it could wash away the horrible news I just got about my childhood friend. I still can’t believe Ryan just died, especially on his wedding day. When Conor got the devastating news, he passed out in front of the barn. Luckily I was there to carry him inside.
But everything was in such a mad rush, that I was left with Conor in my arms. I couldn’t leave him alone, so I brought him back here to my hotel room. Everyone else was too distraught to care for the newly widowed man, and I didn’t want him to wake up dazed and confused. I felt obligated to take care of him and make sure he was alright, if that’s even possible.
Ryan’s passing weighs heavy on my heart. We were almost like brothers. I can’t believe he’s gone, just like that. I hang my head low as I remember all the good times we had together. He was way too young to die and I hate that I didn’t get the chance to say goodbye. Why did he have to speed around that bend? He was probably racing to get to his husband, hating every moment he was away from Conor. Dammit, I wish he would’ve just taken his time and slowed down a little. Then he’s still be here.
I dry my face off and wipe away the tear I shed for the friend I lost. It hurts, but right now I have to be there for his husband. Conor’s going to need someone by his side when he wakes up to help him get through all of this. I slowly open the bathroom door, trying not to make too much noise so I don’t wake the sleeping man.
To my surprise he’s awake and sitting seductively on the bed with his shirt half-unbuttoned and an impish smile. Damn. But it’s all a mistake because the moment his eyes lock with mine, he quickly covers up and scoots to the edge of the bed. He’s like a deer caught in the headlights, totally stunned.
“It’s okay,” I quickly say to keep him from becoming alarmed. “You passed out in front of the barn and I brought you here to make sure you were alright.”
“What do you mean I passed out? Where’s Ryan?” Conor asks. Shit, he doesn’t remember a thing. I hate that I have to break the news to the newlywed all over again, but he needs to know the truth. I take a deep breath, then walk over to the bed and take a seat next to his athletic frame. His cologne is the sweetest thing I’ve ever smelled and I know I shouldn’t be thinking about kissing his sculpted lips right now, but it’s the only thing on my mind. I stare into his big brown eyes as I try to find the best way to tell him that Ryan is dead.
“Just before you passed out, you got a phone call from the police department. They told you that there was an accident.” I can barely get the words out. “Ryan was in a car accident and his vehicle flipped over a cliff.” My throat feels like there’s a lump in it and I can’t bear to say the rest of the words. The look in his eyes lets me know I don’t have to.
“And he died,” Conor says as his eyes fill with tears. I nod, still unable to speak with the lump in my throat. His eyes gush like waterfalls as he sobs uncontrollably. He’s overcome with grief, so I cradle him in my arms, holding him as he weeps. He buries his handsome face in my chest and I pull his sobbing body closer to me, hoping my arms can provide him with solace. I gently caress his back as I console the grieving widower.
“I’m sorry,” I finally say. He lifts his head from my chest and wipes away his tears, but they continue to flow.
“No I’m sorry,” Conor says. “You don’t even know me and here I am making a mess of myself in your hotel room. I should probably go.” He jumps up from the bed, but I take hold of his hand and stop him. Sparks fly and I can barely contain myself. What is this man doing to me? He just became a widower, for crying out loud. I should be ashamed.
“Don’t go, you’re too upset to be alone. You don’t have to be sorry, I want to be here for you right now. That’s why I brought you here,” I say.
“You don’t have to do that,” he says.
“Sure I do. Ryan was my buddy. He’d want someone to make sure you were okay,” I say. Conor hesitates, then sit back down next to me.
“I can’t believe he’s gone,” he says in a limp voice.
“Me neither. He was really a great guy.”
“He was.” Conor’s voice trembles. Tears stream down his face again as he hangs his head low. I place my hand underneath his chin and gently tilt his face up. I brush his tears away with my thumb, trying to remove the sadness from those warm brown eyes. It breaks my heart to watch him cry and I wish there was a way I could make it all better.
“I know it doesn’t seem like it right now, but I promise you’re going to be alright,” I say.
“Thank you,” Conor says. “Ryan was lucky to have you as a friend. You have a really good heart.” His words unintentionally fill me with guilt. What kind of friend lusts after his buddy’s husband?
“I’m no saint,” I admit in a heavy voice. If Ryan knew the thoughts I was having about his husband, he’d think I was his foe instead of a friend. Even right now, I still want Conor. That hard chest has me salivating. The straight line of his jaw, and the light shadow make me want to run
my lips against his cheek. I want to hear him croon my name as his cock gushes. Shit, I can’t have these type of thoughts about Conor, especially not right now. His husband just died for crying out loud. I shake my head in an attempt to rid myself of my dirty fantasies.
“You might not be a saint, but right now you’re my hero. Thank you for coming to my rescue,” he says, looking down at his hands. My heart starts to race as the room fills with silence, leaving nothing but the sound of my thunderous pulse.
“Anytime,” I say curtly. I break away from our gaze because if I stare at this stunningly handsome man any longer, I’ll end up seizing his face and kissing him passionately. I can’t make a move on a grieving widower, especially when his husband was my friend. “I know you and I didn’t know each other in high school, but I still want to be here for you.”
“That means a lot to me. I wish I would’ve known you back then,” Conor says in a small voice.
“You wouldn’t have wanted to. I was a nerd back then,” I joke, hoping to lighten the mood. “I was a scrawny guy with bad acne. No one ever paid me any attention.” Conor chuckles a little, and his laugh warms my heart.
“No way, it’s hard to believe you use to be a scrawny nerd,” he says.
“It’s true,” I grin. “I didn’t have my first boyfriend until I moved away to New York to go to college. By then I’d started lifting weights at the gym and my acne finally cleared up.”
“I’ll bet those New York men are all over you now,” he says, still sniffling a little.
“They don’t interest me,” I admit. “They’re all superficial and materialistic. They don’t cook or clean, and they damn sure don’t know how take care of a man. I need a real man, like the ones here in Smithtown.” I wonder if Conor knows that he’s the type of guy that I need. Someone with solid values, and a good heart. We both go silent and allow the words to sink in.
“Maybe you need one of us Smithtown men,” he says in a quiet voice. I turn towards him quickly, and those brown eyes meet mine. “Maybe while you’re here I can make you a home cooked meal to thank you for your kindness before you head back to New York.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” I say gently.
“I want to,” Conor says, placing one sculpted hand on top of mine. There go those damn sparks again. Electricity courses through my veins, making it impossible to resist him. I gaze into his eyes as I drown in his musky, masculine scent. Those lips are pleading with me to kiss them. Shit, I don’t think I can hold back any longer. I give into temptation and seize Conor in my arms. His body goes tense for a moment, but then he submits and relaxes. But I can’t do this. This is so wrong. I release him and back away.
“I’m so sorry,” I say with guilt. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
What was I thinking? Conor just lost his husband in a tragic car accident. I shouldn’t have kissed him under any circumstances.
But he’s not angry. “It’s okay,” he utters softly while grabbing my hand and pulling me closer.
“Conor, I don’t want you to think I’m trying to take advantage of you in your time of grief,” I say.
“I don’t think that at all. I can feel the sparks between us too,” he says. I knew I wasn’t imagining the attraction between us, but kissing my late friend’s widower is just taboo. In some sick sense, I guess he’s single now, but still. Who does that?
I know I should back away, but something about him is pulling me in closer. He looks absolutely delectable, from the big brown eyes to the width of his chest and bronzed column of his throat. I’m trying my best to control my body’s reaction to his nearness, but I’m starting to get aroused.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” I ask. He grabs my hand and places it on his chest.
“Do you feel that?” Conor asks. I do. His heart is throbbing at the same rate as mine right now. “You make my heart pound, and you have since the first moment I laid eyes on you back at the church.” The words shock me, but only because Conor’s actually saying them out loud. The moment I saw him walking down the aisle I knew I wanted him to be mine. The only problem was he was taken. Now, I guess we don’t have that problem in a really morbid way.
“What about Ryan?” I ask. After all, he just married the guy.
“I loved him, but I always knew he wasn’t the man I wanted to marry. I hate admitting that now that he’s gone, but the real reason why I married him was because I felt like I had to. We’ve been together most of our lives and everyone here just expected us to end up together. But I never wanted that with him. There was always something missing,” he confesses.
I can tell he’s being honest. After all, Smithtown is a small community and most of its residents never leave. I was one of the lucky ones that got out, but most of people that grow up here stay within the rural neighborhood, marry another Smithtown native, and then raise a family together. I never wanted that life, and now I’m starting to think Conor doesn’t either.
“What was missing?” I ask in a low voice.
“Passion,” he answers without hesitation. “We were in love, but there wasn’t any passion between us. He never made me feel the way you just did when you kissed me.” He’s right, the heat between us during that liplock was smoldering, and in fact, I’m still trying to cool off. “I feel something with you that I never felt with him before. I tried to fight it, but I don’t think that I can anymore.”
“I don’t think I can either,” I say as his body beckons me. Our hearts are beating simultaneously and neither of us can withstand this feeling any longer. I grab hold of him once again, this time without any intention of letting go. His body succumbs to my control as I press my lips against his. He wraps his arms around me and caresses my back as I lay him gently onto the bed. I’ve wanted this since the moment I first saw Conor, but I didn’t think it would actually happen. Now that I have him here, I want to do everything in my power to please his body.
I gently nibble at Conor’s neck. He moans softly and I can feel my cock getting hard. I want to penetrate his warm, tight flesh, but part of me still feels guilty. I’m torn between the way I feel for him and the friendship I had with his deceased husband. His sweet lips make it hard to choose the latter. His body clings against mine, refusing to let me go. It’s almost as if he’s been waiting for my touch his entire life and I can feel how badly his body needs me. I have to give Conor what he wants.
I slip my hand down the bronzed width of his chest, and caress his pulsating balls. He moans feverishly, those long lashes dropping to hide his eyes. God, he looks so beautiful right now, and I can’t take my eyes off of him. I drag his trousers down his legs, and then lower myself between those hard thighs. He’s so beautiful that I can barely breathe.
Looking up, I keep my eyes locked on that handsome face as I stroke his throbbing cock with my tongue. Conor tosses his head back like an animal in heat and lets out a mellifluous moan.
“Fuck Bryce,” he pants hoarsely. “Oh god, that feels good.” He begins to quake and I pull back, surprised. So soon? He really is repressed. His sex life with his ex must have been awful.
“Don’t stop,” Conor moans again, his cock arcing towards my mouth. “I need it.” The loud moans are probably disturbing everyone in the hotel, but I don’t care.
“You taste so sweet,” I utter between the flicks of my tongue. A spurt of hot, salty semen gushes into my mouth and I drink every last drop. I slide my fingers along his glistening cock and he bites his bottom lip to stifle his moans. I lean forwards and run my tongue around the head of his dick, before slipping my tongue deep into the slit at the top.
“I’m about to come!” he cries out. Conor thrashes and moans more as I stroke his dick harder and faster, trying to bring him to completion. “Oh Bryce!” His legs shake as he reaches his peak and climaxes with a growl. An overflow of hot sperm pours from his throbbing pole, spilling into my mouth, and I gulp like a madman. Shit, his seed is delicious.
“Fuck, I love the way you taste,�
� I say as I lick my lips.
But Conor’s not done yet. “I wanna feel you inside of me,” he begs, his body still quaking with aftershocks. I take off my pants and reveal my rock hard cock. His eyes grow wide as he stares at my stiff wood. Judging by the look on his face, this must be his first time seeing a club this huge.
“Can you do it?” I growl in a low voice. “It’s ten inches.”
He blushes a bit and his eyes go even wider. But Conor’s a good sport because he nods.
“I can do it,” he says bravely. I climb on top of him and gently kiss his lips. “I’ll go slow,” I whisper in the pink shell of his ear. Conor nods, and I push his legs back and admire the massive rod between his legs. He looks so good like this, vulnerable with his legs up high in a vee. His cock is at full staff, hard and ready to play.
But right now, I need his ass. My fingers caress that tiny hole, and he moans again as the pleats contract. Oh yeah, Conor’s ready for me. Slowly, I reach up and catch some of the pre-cum from my dick before smearing it around his anus.
“I’ll get you real good and lubed,” is my low promise. “You’ll enjoy it.”
I rub him some more as he moans, and then slowly slide my cock into his drenched asshole. He gasps as I thrust it deep inside his tight, tiny hole. Conor’s face scrunches up a bit, and I pause.
“You okay?”
He nods, still breathless.
“I’ll be fine,” is his low voice. “I’ve just never had a cock this size inside me before.”
His words rev me up, but I force myself to stay in control. I gently place my hand on his back as I stroke in and out of his bottom. He gasps again, then lets out one of those sweet moans.
“More,” he begs, and his wish is my command. I thrust my entire shaft inside of him, hitting his prostate. Conor’s groans intensify as my once slow and steady strokes turn into body shaking pumps.
“Is this what you wanted?” I ask. “You like getting fucked like this?”