Sutcliffe Cove

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Sutcliffe Cove Page 17

by Ariel Tachna


  “Fuck me—hard—harder,” Gerald got out between pants as he shuddered. “Want to hear you when you come.”

  Despite his desire to feel Gerald come first, the words were all it took to shock a hoarse shout from Brett’s lungs as his cock contracted and forced out the streamers of come. His hips stuttered through the aftershocks as he kept his hand moving, trying to get Gerald off.

  Gerald actually whimpered as he shuddered into a burning orgasm; his cock twitched only a couple times to release a small spurt, but he didn’t care. He was swamped and dizzy, barely hanging onto the rail as his head spun.

  Panting, Brett leaned heavily against Gerald’s back, the hot water now cool on his overheated skin. It took several seconds before he could straighten and reach for the soap to clean them off. He was so hypersensitive that even the nap of the soft cotton washcloth felt harsh against his skin.

  “Fuck,” Gerald breathed, still shaking, totally wiped out. “I’m not sure I can stand up much longer,” he rasped, clinging to the bar.

  “Me either,” Brett agreed, dropping the rag to the splat in the water in the bottom of the tub. “We’ll clean up tomorrow.”

  Gerald groaned and straightened up before shutting off the water. He turned to touch Brett’s cheek and kiss him gently, his breathing still harsh as he mouthed his lover’s lips and curled his arm around his waist.

  Brett returned the kiss breathlessly, but his legs threatened to give out on him. “Let’s get out of here before we both fall down. Did you not get enough?” he teased.

  Gerald’s arm tightened for a moment. “More than. For now,” he murmured before kissing him again. He reluctantly let Brett loose and climbed out to dry off with a fluffy towel.

  “As long as it’s only for now,” Brett said, following Gerald out of the shower and drying off as well.

  Looking over his shoulder, Gerald spent a long moment gazing at his lover, wondering how he’d been so lucky so find him. He hung his towel on a hook by the sink. “Come to bed and let me hold you.”

  “For as long as you want,” Brett promised, dropping the towel and following Gerald out of the room.

  “BRETT. You cannot tell me you want to go to some mass retailer and pick a suit off a rack at random,” Gerald said, throwing up his hands as they stood on the sidewalk in the downtown shopping district. “It’s Bruce and Jeff’s wedding! It’s special!”

  “A suit’s a suit,” Brett protested. “Why does it matter where we buy it? I hate shopping. I just want to find something as quickly as possible so we can go home. There are chores I need to be doing.”

  “A suit is not ‘a suit’, and I won’t have you looking like a cookie-cutter office drone. Now come on,” Gerald said, taking Brett’s hand and starting down the street while mumbling to himself.

  Brett followed along, shaking his head over this entire ridiculous situation. “I could rent one for the weekend,” he suggested hesitantly.

  Gerald didn’t even look over his shoulder; he just squeezed Brett’s hand tighter and kept walking until he stopped at the door to a classy men’s store. “Now remember, I promised you a reward,” he said, wagging a finger.

  That was the only reason Brett was here. Well, that and the fact he couldn’t refuse Gerald anything. Even so, he fully intended to take advantage of his reward just as soon as they finished this shopping expedition. “Let’s get this over with.”

  Rolling his eyes, Gerald opened the door. “You like my suit, don’t you?” He pulled Brett in after him.

  “Yeah,” Brett said warily, not sure what that had to do with anything. “So?”

  “So this is where I got it, and you too can look that hot,” Gerald said. He started winding through the store.

  Brett raised an eyebrow in speculative interest. He wondered whether a suit would have the same effect on Gerald as it had on him or if his lover were so jaded by being around businessmen every day that the sight wouldn’t do anything for him. This trip might have just gotten more interesting. “I always look hot,” he retorted, not willing to let Gerald get in the last word.

  “In your jeans, yes, I agree,” Gerald said as he looked over several displays while a sales associate fluttered nearby. “But according to you, that has nothing on me in my glasses.” He glanced up and winked. “Perhaps a well-fitted suit will re-create the phenomena in your favor.” He paused and looked thoughtful. “Maybe I should get my glasses out of the car….”

  Brett groaned at the thought of having to restrain himself while Gerald was wearing his glasses. “Not playing fair,” he protested.

  Gerald whistled tunelessly and nodded to the salesman waiting, pointing out two different suits. “All right, handsome,” he said to Brett. “Over to the fitting.” He shooed Brett toward the raised stand in the back surrounded by mirrors.

  Sulking, Brett moved as directed, feeling incredibly self-conscious as he stepped up onto the platform. Smiling, Gerald sat fluidly in an armchair placed where he could watch as Brett was measured.

  “Relax, Brett. There’s no one here to see but me,” Gerald placated. “Soon you will have a gorgeous suit, and this will all be a bad dream.”

  Brett tried to relax as he moved this way and that, the salesman taking a variety of measurements to ensure the suit fit correctly.

  “Now, would the gentleman like to try them on to see which cut hangs better?” the sales associate asked.

  “No….”

  “Yes,” Gerald said firmly. “You can’t buy it without trying it on, Brett. They may need to tailor it to your frame. You’re pretty broad in the shoulders compared to that small waist.”

  “There is an unusually large difference between your shoulder and waist sizes,” the salesman agreed. “A lot of coats won’t hang right on you.”

  “Oh, all right,” Brett groused. “Can I at least get down so I don’t feel like a statue on display?”

  Gerald hid his smile. “All right. Just stand by the mirror, okay? We have to be able to see you from all sides to make sure nothing hangs crooked.”

  Brett rolled his eyes but climbed down in relief, staying near the mirror as the salesman held out the first coat. He shrugged into it, twitching his shoulders to get it settled correctly.

  Gerald watched as they went through several different jackets, the fitter occasionally looking his way and getting a nod or shake of his head. It was interesting to watch Brett; Gerald had been like him, once, when it came to clothes, anyway. He’d had to learn once he moved up in the executive world.

  After half an hour, they were down to two suits that the salesman displayed for Brett’s choice.

  Brett looked back and forth between the two suits. He wished his mother was here. From an old family with deep roots, she had an ingrained sense for things like fashion. But Brett hadn’t inherited it, nor had his life choices given him any reason to learn it on his own. “I don’t know,” he said finally. “You choose, Gerald.”

  Gerald stood up and walked to stand right behind him. First he held one suit up to his lover’s chest, then the other. He smiled slowly and held one out for the salesman. “This one.”

  Just before he stepped away, he leaned to whisper in Brett’s ear. “Matches your eyes.”

  “Will you be needing shirts, ties, cufflinks?” the salesman asked courteously.

  Brett groaned. Gerald laughed lightly. “Yes. Pick something plain for the shirt—crisp white, I think—and an understated tie with that sheen that’s fashionable now. I’ll pick the cufflinks.” He gestured for Brett to follow as the salesman bustled off to the storeroom.

  Brett sighed and resigned himself to at least another half-hour before they could escape and get back to the safety of the farm. But Gerald was quick, choosing right away, and the salesman was efficient. They were out the door in less than fifteen minutes.

  “There. That wasn’t so bad, was it? Not even an hour,” Gerald teased as he walked with Brett’s suit hanging from his fingers over his shoulder.

  “As long as I ge
t my reward,” Brett pouted, before smiling a little. “No, it wasn’t awful, although I don’t think I could stand to fill a wardrobe that way. How do you deal with it?”

  “I learned, Brett. A little at a time. I still can’t handle shopping every week or two. So I usually take a whole weekend and shop once a season,” Gerald explained. “I wouldn’t even go that often if I didn’t have to be classy for work.”

  “That’s a little better, I guess,” Brett said. “My mother’s family has all these really elegant people. They’re always dressed in the latest fashion, even for situations when I’d consider old jeans and a T-shirt fine. I didn’t grow up that way, obviously, but I always felt… second best next to my cousins, I guess. I don’t want to go back to feeling that way.”

  Startled, Gerald stopped in place and turned to face his lover. “Brett, you will never be second best to me. That’s not what this was about.”

  Brett shook his head. “I know that. You wanted to help me for Bruce and Jeff’s sake, and you were right. I just look at myself in my grungy jeans and work boots most of the time and wonder what a classy accountant like you is doing with a guy like me.”

  “Don’t you know I think of that too? What’s this rugged, handsome cowboy want with an office geek like me?” Gerald said, feeling self-conscious. He didn’t express things like this well at all. “That maybe I’m trying to tag along and be like you?”

  Brett shook his head. “We’re a real pair, aren’t we, each worrying we aren’t what the other wants.” He leaned over and kissed Gerald gently. “You’re exactly what I want, baby, and I’m thrilled that you’re willing to learn about the farm, but either way, you’re exactly what I want.”

  “Yes, we’re a real pair, and we’re drawing attention,” Gerald pointed out through his light laugh. “Come on. Take me back to that farm, because if you’re there, that’s where I want to be.”

  “Come on then,” Brett said with a grin. “The work’s piling up as we speak.”

  “Literally,” Gerald said drolly as they walked to the car.

  BRETT tugged at the tie that came with his new suit. It fit perfectly, but that didn’t make it less uncomfortable to someone totally unused to wearing such nice clothes. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d worn a tie. He wouldn’t dream of disgracing Bruce and Jeff by showing up in his work clothes, but he still wished there’d been some sort of middle ground. It was just for a short time, Brett reminded himself. Once the ceremony was over, he could lose the tie and coat for the huge party the two men had planned.

  Gerald watched from where he sat in the second row of ten chairs set up in the formal living room of the gorgeous Victorian-style bed-and-breakfast. A few other of Jeff’s and Bruce’s close friends were scattered amongst the chairs, but there were only eight people present besides the officiant, who was doing the paperwork with the happy couple. But Gerald only had eyes for Brett, who looked stunning in his suit, just like Gerald knew he would. It would never compare to seeing him in jeans and flannel on horseback, but he was certainly a gorgeous sight all cleaned up.

  Preparatory paperwork finished, the justice motioned for Bruce and Jeff to take their places with their witnesses, Brett and Sean, another longtime friend. “Dearly beloved,” he began, “we are gathered together today to bear witness to the formal uniting of two lives already lived as one.”

  Brett listened to the words, resisting the urge to turn and look at Gerald as he spoke. Every word resonated in his heart, though, echoing his feelings for his lover who sat in the seats behind them. He reminded himself that Bruce and Jeff hadn’t always been this happy, that they’d had to work through issues and questions before reaching this point. He and Gerald could still get there. Someday.

  As soon as the ceremony was over and Bruce and Jeff had shared their first kiss as married men, Brett returned to Gerald’s side with no intention of leaving that spot for the rest of the day. And for far longer, if he had his way. He just had to find a way to broach the subject with his wonderfully dense lover.

  Adjusting his thinking had come pretty easily to Gerald once he’d gotten used to the concept of marriage being more than he’d always thought. Jeff and Bruce completed each other. It was a no-brainer. It was one plus one equals forever, just like his own parents and so many other happily married couples he’d known over the years. And as Gerald kept his eyes on his lover instead of the ceremony, he knew the equation fit his life too, now that he knew to apply it. That knowledge filled him with quiet happiness.

  Greatly pleased when Brett returned to him, Gerald hooked their arms together, stepped close, and pressed a kiss to Brett’s brow as they watched the others congratulate Bruce and Jeff. It was a beautiful moment.

  “They’re so happy,” Brett whispered, leaning into Gerald’s kiss. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen them this happy.”

  Gerald just nodded, his lips shifting against Brett’s hair. “They’re glowing,” he murmured.

  “They’d learned to accept that this day might never come. I think they’re entitled to glow a bit,” Brett said. He knew he’d be glowing if Gerald ever agreed to marry him.

  “Yeah.” Gerald slid his arm around Brett’s waist. “I’m glad to see them so happy. It’s good for everyone.”

  Having received the congratulations of everyone present, Bruce and Jeff were eager to get to the party. “Come on, Brett. Bring that gorgeous stud of yours. I want to see you two dance together,” Jeff announced to the room.

  Gerald arched one brow in amusement. “Next thing he’ll be setting me out in a field of mares,” he murmured as he and Brett walked out into the hall.

  Brett chuckled. “Not a chance. He’s far too happy with the idea of you being gay.”

  “I hadn’t noticed,” Gerald said.

  Brett snorted. “Then you’re even more clueless than Bruce thinks you are.”

  Gerald stopped in place, blinking. “I’m not clueless.”

  “You didn’t catch my attempts to see if you were gay the day we met,” Brett reminded him. “And some of those lines were as obvious as the day is long.”

  “That doesn’t make me clueless,” Gerald continued to object. “I was… distracted.”

  “Distracted?”

  “By the horses.” Gerald cleared his throat. “And your ass,” he muttered under his breath.

  “What was that?” Brett teased. “My hat?”

  Gerald’s cheeks flushed. “Are we ready to go to the reception?” he asked, his voice a bit desperate.

  “Sure,” Brett replied with a grin, “just as soon as you tell me what else distracted you besides the horses. And no mumbling this time.”

  His cheeks darkening, Gerald glanced from side to side, checking who was around them. “Your. Ass.”

  “Oh, well in that case, I guess you’re forgiven.” Brett grinned. “After all, I have it on good authority that it’s a spectacular ass.”

  “Move that spectacular ass. There’s cake and champagne waiting,” Gerald said, smiling and hoping his cheeks weren’t as red as they felt.

  Brett grabbed Gerald’s hand and started toward the veranda where the food was laid out, grinning like a loon. “When you put it that way….”

  Gerald laughed as Brett pulled him along. They were oblivious to the pleased smiles from Bruce and Jeff when they approached the cake-cutting; Gerald’s attention was totally on his lover and didn’t waver.

  There were a lot more people who’d come to the reception; they toasted and cheered when Bruce and Jeff cut the cake, clinking their glasses to get the two men to kiss. Bruce grabbed Jeff in a bear hug, lifting him off his feet as he kissed him sloppily to the accompaniment of raucous catcalls.

  The grin on Gerald’s face was wide as they applauded and called for an encore, and his laugh spilled out as he watched the two men so obviously in love. He glanced to his side to see Brett smiling as well and knew it was a day to remember.

  When they’d finished the cake and champagne, the music started and all th
e guests were invited to watch Bruce and Jeff’s first dance as married men. They swayed together slowly through the strains of “As Time Goes By.” The next song, though, was much more energetic, and the guests swarmed onto the dance floor to join the bump and grind. “Do you want to dance?” Brett asked with a grin.

  Gerald’s brows bounced up. “Uh. I don’t know how to dance.”

  “Come on. It’s easy,” Brett urged. “Please?”

  Letting Brett pull him onto the dance floor, Gerald sighed and grimaced wryly. “And you’ll see what a klutz I really am.”

  “I’ve seen you ride,” Brett contradicted. “I know you aren’t a klutz.” He pulled Gerald against him, hands settling on his hips and guiding him through the dance.

  Gerald found that he didn’t feel clumsy at all with Brett’s hands on him, and he actually enjoyed the dance. But he liked it even more when the music shifted to the slow big band classic “Moonlight Serenade.” “This is more my speed,” he said, sliding one arm around Brett’s waist and taking his hand.

  “You won’t hear me complaining about anything that gets us closer,” Brett said, letting Gerald take the lead this time. His lover led them around the dance floor in a simple sway, occasionally turning them in a circle as other couples swirled around them to the romantic music.

  “Mmm, closer. I love that idea,” Gerald murmured as his arm around Brett’s waist tightened.

  “Just as soon as the reception is over,” Brett promised. “I’m pretty sure Bruce and Jeff wouldn’t appreciate it if I dragged you into the bathroom.”

  Gerald chuckled and set their foreheads together. “I suppose I can wait if you can.”

  Brett looked around at the crowd. “Do you think they’d notice if we disappeared for a bit?”

  “Notice?” Gerald blinked and leaned back and looked around. “With all these people here?”

  Brett cocked an eyebrow speculatively. “I’ll bet there’s a handicapped restroom with a door that locks,” he murmured.

  Gerald snorted. “It’s a restored Victorian house. There’s more likely a bathroom with a claw-foot tub upstairs.”

 

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