This Is a Dark Ride

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This Is a Dark Ride Page 12

by Melissa Harlow


  “Redlinger! Open the door!” The words were punctuated with heavy thumps.

  He quickly pulled on a pair of ragged gray sweatpants and left Angel standing there. Brody paused and looked back over his shoulder. God, she was pretty. So fucking pretty. Maybe if he ignored the knocking, whoever was at the door would go away.

  They didn’t go away. Instead the knocking grew louder and more insistent. Brody reluctantly turned and went to the door. He yanked it open, not expecting anyone or anything that he wanted to see standing there.

  He was right. Varnes, the building manager, stood in the hall. Brody watched those beady eyes rise over his shoulder, no doubt scanning the apartment for something to complain about. “Just wanted to let you fellas know the snowstorm’s got the city shut down. Only vehicles allowed on the road are the plow trucks, ambulances, and cops.” Varnes’s gaze settled on Sam, who was still asleep on the sofa. “You might want to tell your friend there that before he leaves tonight.”

  Brody grinned and tossed his hair and gave his best impression of a girlish giggle. “Oh, I will!” he said in his best falsetto voice. “That’s such wonderful news! I’m so looking forward to spending some friendly time with my friend tonight!”

  He slammed the door in Varnes’s face and was treated to the music of Angel’s laughter behind him.

  Brody spun and faced her with a smile. “Oh, you liked that, did you?”

  She nodded. “I did. He was a dick.”

  “He’s probably going to type up an eviction notice right now.”

  Her eyes widened. “Really?”

  Brody shrugged. “I guess I sort of wish he would. I don’t like it here much, but there’s no point in worrying about what Varnes thinks of me or anybody else. You’re right. He’s a dick. At least the rent’s paid up—thanks to you.”

  “I just helped, that’s all. I figured it was the least I could do.”

  “Well, my friend. You might as well take off that coat. Looks like we’re all stuck here together for a little while.”

  She smiled, and then her face sobered. “I’m not staying because I’m stuck here.”

  “I know, and that was never the reason why I wanted you to stay. You being stuck here was never the reason why you stayed in the first place. If you’d wanted to leave, all you had to do was borrow some clothes and go. You even had money stashed. You could have left anytime.”

  “But I didn’t.”

  He smiled. “You knew you belonged here.”

  Chapter Seven

  Groggy, half awake, half asleep, Sam stretched. A stabbing pain seared through his lower back. There was no way he could continue to sleep on this saggy couch much longer.

  He rolled over and caught sight of Brody, just sitting there on the floor by the sofa, staring at him. Brody grinned.

  “Hey, sleeping beauty,” Brody said. “I was wondering when you were going to wake up.”

  “Hey. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I was just watching you sleeping. Thinking about you.”

  Sam smiled. It was almost like he was still asleep—like this was all just a dream. “Yeah? What were you thinking?”

  “Lots of things. Like you don’t have to go to work tonight.”

  Sam rubbed his temples, trying to remember what day it was. He was having a hard time recalling, and it seemed impossible that Brody would know, especially with the weird episode he’d had earlier. That had to have been a seizure, yet right now Brody seemed more together than Sam had seen him in a long time. His eyes looked clear and bright, and he wasn’t deathly pale like he’d been.

  “Thursday,” Sam finally decided out loud. “Brody, it’s only Thursday. I’m not off until Sunday.”

  “City is shut down,” Brody said with a smile. “All the roads are closed. Varnes came up earlier and said the whole town is in a state of emergency. Only the plow trucks and the cops are allowed on the roads. We’re snowed in together. Just me and you and Angel.”

  His smile faded, and he looked at Sam with a serious expression. “I gave you a chance before. You could have denied it.”

  “Denied what?” Sam asked. He already knew what, but he wasn’t ready to talk about this.

  “How you feel about her. You didn’t stop up there and ask her how much because you were worrying about her not wearing a coat. I don’t believe that.”

  “I just wanted to talk to her. She reminded me of some of the girls you used to…you know… Look, I just wanted to talk to her.”

  “With your dick maybe,” Brody said. “I fucking came clean with you, you know? I realize I was all woozy and shit, but I told you how I felt, how I feel. You can’t do the same with me?”

  “What?”

  “Oh, you heard me! What’s wrong with you? This is me, Sam! You can’t tell me the truth? You’re hot for her. That’s cool. I like it—I like it a lot.”

  “You like it?” Sam’s stomach did a weird little flip like he’d just run over a speed bump.

  “Yeah. I do.”

  “Did you sleep with her?” Sam searched Brody’s eyes, a part of him afraid to know the truth. Sam had told Brody he wanted Brody to be with Angel and he really did, yet another part of him burned with jealousy at the thought of it happening.

  Brody sighed. “No. I didn’t. Does the thought that I want her too really upset you that much?”

  “I don’t know.” Really, he wasn’t sure. Wasn’t sure about anything anymore. Maybe he was just worried about Angel not wanting him and wanting Brody instead. It was too confusing. There were too many foreign emotions in his head and in his heart. “I care about her,” Sam managed to admit. “I don’t know…I don’t know why. I’m not sure what’s—”

  “It’s okay, Sam. Fuck. Why is it so hard for you to open up to me? We used to share everything.”

  “Not everything,” Sam said, remembering the other women he’d seen Brody have sex with.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Those women. All those other women that you screwed. We didn’t share them, did we?”

  “You never asked. Did you want to?”

  “No.” He’d never wanted it. That was something that made him feel even more mixed-up. Why now? Why Angel?

  “But Angel, you want her. Alone? With me? What?”

  “I don’t know,” Sam said. “I don’t want her…not like that.” If he only said it enough times, maybe it would make it true.

  “Tell me the truth, Sam,” Brody said.

  He stared into Brody’s eyes, remembering the way he’d felt about him. He still felt it. Angel, Brody’s drugs, the distance between them, time…nothing had changed the way he felt for Brody. It was a forever thing.

  “I love you, Brody,” Sam whispered. “I’m afraid. Afraid of how much I want her. I care about her, too much… I think that I… Those ones you were with, it was always just sex. That was all it was to you, wasn’t it?”

  Brody nodded, a solemn expression on his face.

  “I can’t…I can’t be that way, especially not with her. Something…” He closed his eyes, blocking out Brody’s face. “I wondered if it would just be sex to her? If because of what she does—what she used to do—would it just be, you know…just another fuck?”

  “No,” Brody said. “I can’t believe you said that. Can’t you see? Are you blind to the way she looks at you?”

  “But if something happened, I’m afraid if I felt…if I wanted more.”

  “More?”

  “If I felt for her like I do for you. If I fell in love with her.” He opened his eyes and met Brody’s gaze. “It would ruin everything. What we have…”

  “It doesn’t have to,” Brody said. “I love her too, Sam. I really do. It might be hard for you to believe, but I have feelings too.”

  “You always did like women,” Sam said.

  Brody shrugged and seemed completely unaffected by the remark. “Not every man who loves men hates women. It’s not a prerequisite. Not all of us have issues because we’re
mad at our mommies.”

  Unexpected anger bubbled up inside him. “What do you know? Your mother still talks to you.”

  “Your mother doesn’t even know where you are, Sam. She didn’t give you a chance? Did you give her one? You walked out. Ran off with that fucking plumber. You’ve wrestled with your feelings for years, and you’re still confused. You’ve had time to think about what you wanted—what you are. She had it all thrown on her in one night, no time to think about it!”

  “I don’t want to talk about this, Brody. I know what you’re doing. You know I like that girl, and you’re making this all about me. I know why too. Because I’ve never been enough for you and you figure if I like that girl, then you can fuck her too and that will make it all okay.”

  “You can’t really believe that.”

  “I don’t know what I think anymore!”

  “You’re wasting your life by overanalyzing things. All this fucking thinking! Why are you so worried about labeling yourself? Why can’t you just enjoy life? Worrying if you were gay or you weren’t gay… It’s like you spent so much time worrying about what to call yourself and you didn’t just…live.”

  Sam ran his hand through his messy hair. “And by live, you mean I didn’t fuck everything that moves…the way you did.”

  “I just lived,” Brody said. “I did what I wanted. Whatever life handed me. I took it. I ran with it. I tasted life. I fucking lived.”

  “And I waited,” Sam said. “I waited for what I thought was right for me.” He picked up one of Brody’s mangled cigarette butts and stuck it in his mouth.

  Brody got a lighter off the coffee table, leaned forward, and lit it for him. Sam took a deep drag.

  “Tastes good, doesn’t it?”

  “No, Brody. It tastes like shit. It tastes fucked-up, like you are…like everything is. Everything’s gone to shit.”

  “Why, because I liked getting high? Because I fucked things up? Or because you’re worrying that you did? Worrying that you’ve missed out on something…”

  Sam blew out the smoke, and he closed his eyes for a moment. His head was swimming. The cigarette had left him dizzy, with a bad taste in his mouth. “I didn’t fuck anything up.”

  “Maybe not, but you aren’t sure. You’re not sure if what we have is enough, and how could you be? You haven’t lived, Sam. You’re still like a little boy.”

  He glared at Brody. There was more than a grain of truth in what Brody had said, but he didn’t like hearing it. “I’ve always been sure. I’ve always been here for you, always loved you. You were the one who was never sure. You had to escape, get high and escape reality. I was reality, Brody. I am fucking reality! I was here, you weren’t…”

  “Oh…Sam. Is that how you feel? I wasn’t ever trying to escape anything. It was just fun. At first anyway. I didn’t think it would get as out of control as it did.”

  “You wrecked us,” Sam said. He crushed out the cigarette in the ashtray.

  Brody’s face fell. “I thought… I guess I believed you still loved me. I know I fucked up, but I guess I’ve believed all this time that you forgave me.” His voice broke.

  Sam looked hard at him, and he saw fear. Brody was scared. For the first time Sam could see the truth right in front of his face. Brody loved him, and Brody was just as scared of losing him as he was of losing Brody.

  “I do love you, Brody,” Sam said, looking away. He studied the wooden amusement park sign that hung on the cracked drywall. “This is a dark ride,” he whispered, more to himself than to Brody. Brody touched his arm, and Sam shuddered.

  “Dark rides are the best ones, Sam. When you go through them with someone you love, someone to hold on to in the dark, when you’re scared, or when things get crazy.”

  Sam swallowed hard and met Brody’s eyes. “It’s real dark. I’ve been feeling like I was on this ride all by myself.”

  “You were, and I’m sorry. I promise you, you’re not alone on this ride anymore. You’re not. I’m not that fucking plumber. I’m not going to just leave you. I’ll never leave you. I love you.”

  Sam’s heart surged. He’d said it again. And Sam not only heard it now, but he believed it. “I love you, Brody.”

  “I love you so much it scares me. I love her too, and I’m pretty sure you feel the same way. It’s been a dark ride for her. She needs someone to hold on to in the dark.”

  Sam nodded, picturing the sad, haunted look in her eyes.

  “We will take care of her,” Brody said. “Not me. Not you. Us.”

  Sam searched his eyes. “You aren’t just talking about screwing her? Because I won’t let you do that to her, Brody. I won’t let you hurt her like that.”

  Brody didn’t blink. There was bare honesty in his eyes. “I won’t, Sam. I promise you. I’d never do that to her. She’s scared to death…of us, of how she feels. Can’t you see how hard I’m trying to change? I won’t hurt her…and I won’t hurt you, not again, I promise.”

  Sam smiled, just a little. “You can hurt me some.”

  Brody grinned. “Guess I can’t hold it against you for wanting to screw a plumber. He was probably working on a sink with his crack hanging all out, and you just couldn’t help yourself.” Brody stood, turned around, and pulled his jeans down over his lean hips, exposing half of his ass.

  Sam erupted into laughter.

  “What? You don’t like my plumber’s butt?” Brody snickered. He raised his arms and wiggled his hips. His jeans slid down several inches more.

  “It’s the most beautiful plumber’s butt I’ve ever seen,” Sam said, reaching out and bracing his hands on both sides of Brody’s swaying hips. Brody turned in his arms and faced him.

  Sam brought his lips to Brody’s. Rough stubble bristled against Sam’s skin, waking all his senses as their tongues explored. Brody’s mouth tasted like cigarettes or maybe the one he’d just smoked. It didn’t matter; he could do this all day if Brody would only let him.

  “What do you want, Samson?” Brody whispered into his mouth.

  “Whatever you want,” Sam said. “You know I’ll do anything for you. I want whatever you want me to do.”

  “I want you to suck my cock.”

  The harsh words were music to Sam’s ears as he knelt before Brody.

  “Say it. Tell me, Sam. Say it loud,” Brody said. “Things won’t be any different just because Angel is here. You hear me?” He grabbed a handful of Sam’s hair.

  Sam trembled. Angel might hear him. Angel might come out here. Sam’s heart pounded faster and faster, and he was unsure if he was afraid that she would or she wouldn’t.

  She might watch. Angel might see him kneeling before Brody like his servant. A shiver went through him at the thought.

  “I want to suck your cock, Brody,” Sam said so loudly he was certain Mrs. Mueller down the hall had to have heard. He didn’t care. The thought of Angel catching him like this made him more excited each time it went through his head.

  Brody’s gaze softened, but not his grip in Sam’s hair.

  “Do you?” He pushed Sam’s face toward his crotch. “Is this what you want?”

  Brody’s cock was against Sam’s cheek, swollen and alive, and he kissed it through the fabric of Brody’s pants. “Please.”

  Don’t change your mind, Brody. Don’t get sick and run to the bathroom. Don’t stop. Don’t fucking stop.

  Brody unzipped his jeans. He had such a beautiful cock. Thick and long. Salty, musky. The closest thing to perfection Sam had ever encountered. Sam’s own neglected cock oozed until a wet spot formed on his pants. He traced Brody’s wiry curls, then down around to the base. Sam could feel the blood pulsing in it.

  A sweet sigh escaped Brody as Sam took that gorgeous cock into his mouth. It had taken a lot of practice, but he’d learned to accept every precious inch, lodging the head deep in his throat. Sam took short, quick breaths through his nose, concentrating on keeping his lips closed tight. Brody’s cock was like hot velvet in his mouth.

 
Brody did not like to be sucked, even if that’s what he called it. He fucked Sam’s mouth. There was nothing gentle about the way he did it either, and Sam didn’t mind that at all. Sam craved it—needed it. He’d missed Brody’s smell and the way Brody felt and tasted in his mouth. He needed it like Brody needed cheap wine. Sam cupped Brody’s balls. They were heavy and full—for him.

  “Oh fuck.” Brody’s hips pumped faster. “Your mouth—perfect. Oh, feels so fucking good.”

  Over Brody’s panting and grunts, Sam heard the bedroom door open. Angel was there. Angel watched. He couldn’t see her from where he was, but he could feel her.

  Brody bumped hard into the back of Sam’s throat. He used to be good at this, but he was out of practice and he gagged and sputtered. For the next few minutes Sam fought every stroke, trying to hold Brody’s cock at bay with his tongue. Brody slammed forward, and Brody pulled his head back, eyes watering.

  “No gagging, Sam. You’re going to swallow every drop of cum. And if you don’t do what I tell you, I’m going to smack your ass until you can’t sit for the rest of the day.”

  The old Brody was back. His Brody. The Brody who wanted him. The Brody who owned him.

  Sam’s jaw ached, but he let Brody guide him by tugging and jerking on Sam’s hair. He swirled his tongue. Flicked it. He opened his mouth wider, hungry for what Brody would give him. His sole focus was Brody’s pleasure. Sam sucked, hard, wanting to make it good.

  “Oh your mouth is so fucking hot,” Brody said. His cock jerked and throbbed as Brody began to come. The hot liquid seared Sam’s throat as he gulped. Sam sucked until Brody pushed him away, and he remained kneeling, looking up at Brody.

  Brody had come again. Twice in one day. Monumental. Just like old times. Sam let a small trickle escape the corner of his mouth, wanting…needing Brody to punish him.

  Brody took a step back, staring down at him, smiling wickedly. “Get up.”

  Sam rose, not taking his eyes from Brody.

  “Take off your clothes.”

  Sam complied, removing his T-shirt and stripping away the old gray sweatpants he’d worn to sleep in. Standing before Brody in only his underwear, he suddenly felt awkward. It wasn’t Brody, but knowing Angel was there made it more difficult and somehow much, much more arousing.

 

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