Love Him Free: Book One of On The Market

by Lindsey, E. M.

  ‘That’s it, that’s it,’ Rocco coaxed with one hand.

  Simon was hard, ready to spill all over again. He didn’t dare touch himself, he just rode the waves of pleasure until he crashed over the edge, and he was dimly aware of Rocco following behind. His seed was hot, even encased in the condom, and Rocco’s dick was bigger as it pulsed.

  Simon’s entire body was trembling like he was cold, but he took breaths as he came down, and he let Rocco hold him tight as he started to soften. Simon let out a small noise of protest when Rocco moved him. He pulled away with a wet squelch, and when he returned to spoon up against Simon’s back, his dick was slightly tacky and bare.

  Rocco’s mouth found the sore spot on Simon’s shoulder where he’d sucked a mark earlier, and he ran his tongue over it before tracing it with soft, open lips. “Are you okay?”

  Simon turned over and shuffled back to give himself sign space, though he kept their legs tangled together. ‘I hope I didn’t ruin anything. The video.’

  Rocco shook his head. ‘The video was beautiful, but this…’ His hand hovered, then fingertips traced around Simon’s lips. ‘You are everything. I’m falling for you.’

  Simon closed his eyes a long moment, just basking. There was truth in Rocco’s eyes, and affection. Maybe even love. He looked back at him after a second and lifted his hand between them. ‘Me too.’

  It wasn’t a quite a confession, not yet. But for now, it was close enough.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Thursday late morning started hot—not a cloud in the sky, the sun beating down on the back of Rocco’s neck causing him to break a sweat in spite of the low-key work he was doing. Simon was working a half-day at the bakery, so Rocco volunteered to head over to the town center to meet a man called Fitz. Simon explained he was the Fire Chief and one of the lead organizers of the market.

  ‘He’s nice,’ Simon promised, then smoothed hands down the front of Rocco’s t-shirt like he couldn’t help but touch him. ‘I don’t know if he signs, but he’ll do what he can to make it easy on you.’

  Rocco grinned, knowing it looked hungry, predatory. He was starving for Simon in all ways, and he wondered when this feeling would be sated. He cupped Simon’s cheeks with both hands, then dragged him into a deep, wet kiss. ‘I’m not worried about it,’ he replied when he pulled back. ‘It sounds like fun.’

  Simon’s grin softened, his eyes a little heated, but he wasn’t as overwhelmed with Rocco’s touch as he had been. Rocco thought he might miss it, but he also knew it didn’t take much to rev Simon up—and that was enough. ‘It won’t be. It’s work.’

  Rocco shrugged, then dragged one hand down Simon’s back as he gathered him close, stopping to cup his ass. ‘Sore?’

  Simon laughed with his shrug. ‘Yes. But I like it.’

  Rocco groaned, then kissed him again before tearing himself away. He took James’ leash in hand, hooked his bag over his shoulder, then began the slow trek over to where the market was going to set up. It didn’t take much to spot Fitz. Simon had described him well—though Rocco was instantly aware Simon had left out the fact that his entire right side from the neck down was shiny and tight with scars. He held his arm at an awkward angle, like he couldn’t straighten it completely, but that didn’t seem to stand in his way as he hauled large boxes from the back of a pickup to the ground.

  He was almost as tall as Rocco, and almost as wide. His hair lay in soft brown waves that fell over his forehead, and his eyes were bright and friendly. His CCFD shirt—a navy blue with a logo on the pocket—stretched over his pecs, and Rocco knew if he wasn’t so head over heels for Simon, he might have been interested.

  Fitz took notice of him right away and waved him over, bending down to pet James first, which Rocco loved. There was something to be said about a town where everyone greeted his baby before him. When he righted himself, he extended his hand, and Rocco shook it, feeling callouses on his palm.

  ‘Hi,’ he signed. ‘My name Fitz.’

  Rocco couldn’t tell if it was early education sign or something he’d picked up from YouTube. The grammar was wrong, and his movements were jerky, but it was something. ‘Rocco,’ he spelled before offering his sign name.

  When Fitz pulled out a small pad of paper, it became obvious he was uncomfortable. ‘I only know a little sign from when I met Birdie’s cousin. Sorry.’

  Rocco waved him off and scribbled beneath Fitz’s neater writing, ‘No worries.’

  ‘Simon said you were coming by to help?’

  ‘Put me where need me. James ok here?’

  Fitz frowned at the paper, then looked over his shoulder at the parking lot before shaking his head. ‘James isn’t here.’

  Rocco scratched his nose, then realized the mistake. ‘Pocket James. Dog.’ He pointed down at his little baby who was perched on one of his feet, staring up with his tongue lolling out.

  Fitz had a loud, booming laugh which Rocco both heard and felt, and the guy clapped him on the shoulder before he wrote again. ‘Pocket James. Brilliant. He can go hang out with Spencer and the cats.’ Fitz pointed across the way at a little traveling paddock halfway through being set up, at two slender men who were leaning against the half-standing fence post with their heads close together. ‘Spencer and Max. They’ll watch James.’

  Rocco nodded, feeling a little apprehensive about turning his baby over to strangers, but these were Simon’s people, and Simon would have warned him if there was anyone he should avoid. He straightened his shoulders, then turned to Fitz and pointed to the notepad. “Can I borrow that?”

  Fitz blinked then grinned and nodded, handing it over. Rocco signed a quick thanks, then turned on his heel and crossed the grass toward the men who had gotten back to work. The one with lighter hair noticed him first, and he said something to his companion who stopped and looked over his shoulder. Rocco watched as his eyes went wide, as his tanned skin went a bit pale, then pink around his ears.

  The man recognized him.

  Rocco held up the hand not holding the leash and notepad in greeting, then stopped a couple feet away to scribble on the paper. ‘Hi, I’m Rocco. Helping Fitz. Fitz say u watch James 4 me?’

  The dark-haired man took the note, his tongue darting over his lips nervously as he read, and Rocco was pretty sure he let out a nervous laugh before he looked back up and pointed to himself. ‘M A X.’ His finger spelling was less stilted than Fitz’s had been. He pointed to his companion. ‘S P E N C E R.’

  Rocco offered his sign name. ‘Do you sign?’

  Max flushed all over and made a see-saw gesture with his hand, then rubbed a circle around his chest with a fist. ‘Sorry.’

  Rocco waved him off, then took to writing again because he just wasn’t in the mood to deal with half-signs and pantomime. ‘It’s fine, writing good. James ok here?’

  Spencer, who was reading over Max’s shoulder, looked up and nodded eagerly. He nudged his partner out of the way before dropping to his knees, and James wasted no time at all endearing himself to the total strangers. In seconds, he was on his back baring his stomach for pets.

  Max laughed and rubbed the back of his neck before tapping his chest with his thumb and wiggling his fingers. ‘Fine.’

  Rocco nodded. ‘Thanks.’ He pointed to himself, then over to where Fitz was unloading, and Max gave another nod. It wasn’t much—but it was something. Rocco watched James trot after Spencer, then pause by one of the small crates to sniff before scrambling back. Probably an irritated cat, and Rocco didn’t blame the thing. He hated the feeling of being closed in—of being locked up.

  It was strange how a life of freedom to live however he wanted had started to feel like a cage. And part of it was being Sylent. Part of it was being a publicly consumed celebrity with no real right to privacy. But part of it was also letting himself get lost in the idea of himself rather than the man he was.

  How a small town with barely thirty thousand people managed to break down those walls was beyond him, but he felt like
he could breathe for the first time. When he got back to Fitz, he had a smile on his face as he was put to work. The boxes were heavy, and he was sweating even harder. He was surrounded by people he couldn’t really speak to, most of whom didn’t know who he was from Adam. And he felt something like home.

  * * *

  The Cibo Di Strada food truck rolled up to the Market around noon, so Rocco headed over to the window with Fitz and ordered a couple of Lampredotto to take back to the bakery. They got along okay with Fitz’s poor signing and the notepad, but Rocco was relieved to see that he was trying—that he was working on picking up more ASL.

  His right hand was the only thing that gave him trouble, his thick fingers stiff, and he apologized for them repeatedly until Rocco touched his arm, then wrote a long paragraph in his best English to ease his worry.

  ‘I didn’t know a lot Deaf growing up, but in college there was club w/ a diverse group. There Deaf missing hands, Deaf w/ CP, Deafblind…not all equal, u know? ASL is hard language and I’m glad ur trying. I can’t read lips well and HAs only help me hear traffic or dog barking. I don’t want u to keep working with ur hand if uncomfortable. Notepad fine.’

  Fitz’s smile was sheepish as he scribbled out his reply. ‘I was burned in a fire when I was twelve on a boy scout camping trip. I’m right handed, but had to re-learn everything with my left. Therapy helps. I do knitting and crochet to help flexibility. I just know how much it sucks to not have access. I’m not ashamed of my arm, but I’m sorry I’m not better for you.’

  Rocco shook his head and pat his shoulder again. ‘U will b. Sign Language can adapt to way u need it.’ He liked the way Fitz went soft around the edges, the way his smile reached his eyes. These people were good people—genuinely good people. They cared in ways Rocco hadn’t seen in years. Hell, maybe ever. They weren’t looking for any and every opportunity to step on someone else to climb a rung higher on the ladder leading to absolutely nowhere.

  They just wanted to exist, and that was enough for them.

  And god—god—he wanted that to be enough for him too.

  Fitz tapped him, then nodded to the food truck where a guy was leaning out the side offering out Rocco’s bag, so he got up and grabbed it, tucking it under his arm. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the paddock was up, and Spencer was sitting in the middle of it with two small goats and James who were all running after a ball.

  “Do you think he’ll mind if I take these to Simon?” Rocco asked aloud.

  Fitz shook his head and wrote a quick note. ‘No, but if he does, I’ll take over. I’m glad you like Simon. He’s been through a lot.’

  Rocco stared at the note until the words blurred. Normally that kind of pressure would terrify him—send him running. He didn’t want to feel like he was responsible for someone’s happiness, but it was wholly different with Simon. He didn’t want to be all of Simon’s world, but he wanted to be part of it. And he wanted to be more than a man who worked him up and got him off. He wanted to be someone that made Simon smile the moment he walked into a room. He wanted to be one reason of many that made Simon’s life feel complete.

  “He’s a good person.”

  Fitz nodded, and there was a ferocity in his eyes Rocco didn’t quite understand. He was missing a lot, he knew. Simon had suffered as a kid—for his funny accent and bad English and strange customs. Too much like Rocco. Rocco’s Deaf identity came first above all things, so it wasn’t often he met someone who had assimilated less than he had—but Simon had all but cut himself off from everyone.

  He was stepping out though—a bit more, and slowly. And Rocco felt a wave of gratitude that he could be there to see it.

  He tipped a wave at Fitz, signed a promise to be back later even if Fitz didn’t catch all of it, then he hurried down the street. He was glad it wasn’t far, and he could smell bread baking as he turned the corner, a smile lighting up his face at the sight of the bakery window.

  Pulling the door open, Rocco saw Simon’s employee standing behind the counter. Kyle. They hadn’t officially met yet, Kyle usually on his way out when Rocco arrived, so he offered a smile which was returned, though there was something in Kyle’s eyes that Rocco didn’t much like.

  Kyle lifted his hand in greeting as Rocco got closer, then he formed a C with his hand and rubbed it up and down his throat a few times. ‘Horny?’

  Rocco choked, and felt a bit of rage bubbling up. Just because he was an adult film star didn’t give people the right to talk to him like that. Doing porn didn’t mean his body or his sex life was on display at all times for anyone to just take.

  Before he could fully unleash on this kid, however, Rocco noticed his eyes were fixed on the bag he was holding—and it became clear. He bit his lip, then set the bag down, held up his hands in surrender and shook his head. ‘Hungry,’ he spelled. He formed the C with his hand, then started at the top of his throat and dragged it down once. ‘Horny,’ he spelled slowly, to make sure the kid got it, then he repeated the earlier sign.

  Kyle’s eyes went wide, cheeks pink. His mouth began to move frantically, and Rocco could only imagine he was fumbling his way through an apology.

  He didn’t have the energy to ask him to repeat it or write it down, so he waved it off, then grabbed the food and pushed past the swinging counter and into the kitchen. Simon was there at the baking table, his head bobbing in a rhythm which told Rocco there was music on. It wasn’t loud enough for him to feel it, but the way Simon moved—a sway to his hips, the tapping feet—it was probably upbeat.

  Rocco loved him. God, he was so in love with him.

  He cleared his throat, and Simon peered over his shoulder, his face flitting through a few expressions before he settled on happiness. He swiped hands over his apron, then crossed the room and dragged Rocco into a kiss. There was a faint hint of jam on his tongue, and flour on his cheek, and his nails were crusted with drying dough, and he was the most beautiful thing Rocco had ever held in his arms.

  Pulling back, Rocco cupped Simon’s cheek for a long moment, then held up the bag and shook it. ‘Lunch. Also your employee just asked me if I was horny.’

  Simon’s eyes went wide, his mouth parted. ‘He what?’

  ‘I think he meant hungry,’ Rocco offered, and Simon slapped a hand to his forehead.

  ‘He can fingerspell, sort of. He asked me to teach him a few basic customer service signs, but I didn’t teach him that one.’

  Rocco grinned and put the bag of food down before laying a hand on Simon’s waist. ‘Is that part of the services here?’

  Simon gave him a flat look and smacked him lightly on the arm, but he didn’t stop Rocco from backing him up against the baking table and stealing another long kiss. When they pulled apart, Simon looked vaguely dazed and happy. ‘What did you bring me?’

  ‘Lampredotto. Spencer and Max,’ he spelled, ‘are dog-sitting right now. Fitz says he’ll watch James this evening, until I get back.’

  Simon’s grin was soft again as he broke away from Rocco, took the bag, and led the way upstairs. It felt good to be back in that little apartment, even if he knew Simon wasn’t going to be there forever. It still felt like he was being given pieces of Simon that so few people had the privilege of knowing.

  They sat on the sofa, cat Rocco instantly joining them at their feet, and Simon pulled a face when Rocco tore his sandwich in half and offered a bit of the tripe to the beast weaving around his feet.

  ‘You spoil him,’ Simon accused.

  Rocco shrugged, not sorry. He took a huge bite, then set his food down. ‘Have you known Fitz long?’

  Simon blanched, and he aborted the bite he was about to take. The lampredotto sat, untouched, over his legs. ‘We were in school together. He was always…’ Simon dropped his hands and took a breath. ‘He didn’t bully me like the other kids, but he never stopped them.’

  ‘And the others?’ Rocco asked.

  Simon nodded, then spelled three names. ‘Ronan and Parker were a lot like him—not cruel, but
never particularly kind. It’s different now. Ronan is the park ranger—he took the job before I came back to Cherry Creek. We haven’t seen each other though. I didn’t leave the house much before last month.’

  Rocco reached over and brushed a light thumb over Simon’s cheek until he had his full attention. ‘Eat,’ he ordered, and Simon’s chest heaved with a sigh before he obeyed. ‘Do you not want me to be friendly with Fitz?’

  ‘I like him,’ Simon answered with a shrug. Rocco liked the way his cheeks bulged with food, the way he didn’t seem to care how he looked as he devoured his lunch. ‘I don’t think I gave them the benefit of the doubt,’ the letters of the last four words were clumsy on his hand, but Rocco followed them. ‘I’m trying to be better.’

  ‘I know,’ Rocco told him. He leaned in to smudge a kiss on Simon’s cheek. ‘You’re amazing.’

  Simon shook his head, but he looked pleased, and the two of them finished their lunch in relative silence after that. When Rocco got everything put away, Simon was on his feet and near the door, so Rocco crowded him against the wood and pressed their bodies together from chest to groin.

  “I want you,” he murmured, then leaned in to kiss Simon’s neck. He grinned when he felt Simon get hard, and then grinned wider when he realized that Simon wasn’t near the edge. Pulling back, Rocco cocked his head to the side. “I want to take you on a date.”

  Simon’s eyes went wide and he freed some space to sign. ‘A date?’

  Rocco nodded. ‘A real date. We’re dating, but we haven’t gone on a date. I want to romance you.’

  Simon bit his lower lip to hide his smile—though it didn’t work. ‘Okay.’

  Rocco smiled big enough to show teeth. ‘When? Friday?’