by Jayce Ellis
“When you were talking to that cat online, I saw your username was dc4lyfe.”
Deion sucked in a breath. He’d wondered if Carlton had noticed, wondered if he’d even wanted him to.
“Did he assume you were from DC?” Carlton’s voice was low, almost a whisper.
All Deion could do was shrug. “I guess. I didn’t bother to ask.”
“Did it mean DC?”
A laugh bubbled out of him. “You fishing for compliments, C? You need me to tell you that even when I was talking to someone else you were always first and foremost on my mind?”
“I’m insecure and needy okay? I fucking missed you and didn’t know how to get you back, and I worried you’d looked that guy up when you went back and everything.”
Deion brought Carlton’s free hand to his lips. “It’s always been you, C. Since I knew what it meant to want, I wanted you. So yes, it meant Deion and Carlton for life. You happy now?”
Carlton didn’t answer. He pulled up in front of his house and parked, then looked at him like he was ready to lay down all the deep thoughts. He shook himself and seemed to reconsider, and Deion followed his lead in climbing out. “You need your luggage, or will it be good for a few hours?”
“It’s fine,” Deion said. Luggage was truly the last thing on his mind, and he didn’t understand how Carlton could appear to be so calm when everything inside Deion was going haywire.
That lasted until they got in the front door. Carlton hung up both their coats, then, with an intensity Deion had grown to love and had missed like hell, pressed him against the door and leaned into him.
“Missed you so damn much,” he muttered, nipping along Deion’s jaw and down his Adam’s apple, where he sucked long and hard, until Deion bucked against him.
“Missed you too,” Deion grunted. “Thought this wasn’t enough for you. Thought I wasn’t enough for you.”
Carlton pulled back then, placing his hands on either side of Deion’s head. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” In another world, he might have known, but he was too far gone right now.
“For hurting you. For being selfish and not thinking about what you needed. For being too scared to take a chance on us.” He leaned in close to Deion’s ear. “I love you. So much. It almost makes my heart hurt.”
Deion was fairly sure he’d never get tired of hearing that. “Say it again.”
Carlton chuckled, the breath of air against Deion’s neck lighting his skin on fire. “I love you.”
“Yeah,” Deion said, laughing. “Those words sound good coming from you.”
Carlton took his hand and led him through the living room. “Fiancé sounds good on you,” he said, looking at Deion pointedly.
He sucked in a breath and stopped. Goddammit. That’s what he was. A fiancé. He was going to marry the man standing next to him. The man who, just days ago, he’d prepared himself to give up forever. And now they were getting married. Life didn’t get better or stranger than this.
“So,” Carlton said, pausing just outside the bedroom door. “Is it time for make-up sex?”
Deion laughed. “You just want to get in my ass again.”
“No doubt. But I have another idea.”
Deion angled his head. “Yeah?”
Carlton pulled him closer and his voice deepened. “How about you get in mine?”
Deion sucked in another breath. Because that? That was something he’d longed for. Something he rarely indulged in, and the idea of doing it with Carlton? With his best friend? Second to none.
“Yeah, I think I can get with that.”
Carlton grinned and pressed even tighter, tangling their lips together. “You can’t know how much I fantasize about it.”
“About what? Me fucking you?”
Carlton nodded against him. “Yes. It’s so damn big, I just know I’ll feel it for days.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
Carlton squeezed his thumb and forefinger together and smiled. “Maybe just a little bit.”
He tugged on Deion’s hand until they tumbled onto the bed together, laughing. This was what he missed. Laughing in bed with his best friend. Deion ran his hand under Carlton’s shirt, hiking it up.
Carlton hissed. “Hands are cold,” he muttered.
“Sorry,” Deion whispered, then trailed them up higher to tweak his nipples. Carlton bucked under him.
“You bastard.”
Deion sat back, laughing, and pulled his shirt over his head. It would take a few minutes for their bodies to warm up, and what better way to do that than with skin-to-skin contact?
They both stripped unceremoniously, then Deion collapsed back down on him. “I ever tell you how much I love your body?”
Carlton shook his head. “Nope, but I’ll never tire of you complimenting it. Please, do go on.”
Deion chuckled and ran his hand down Carlton’s sides, around the edge of his hip, curving into his inner thigh. He rubbed Carlton’s balls with the back of his knuckles, gratified to hear Carlton’s low moan against him, then traveled lower. Carlton shifted on the bed, spreading his legs wide. Deion found his hole and massaged it while he sipped at Carlton’s lips.
“You’re punishing me, aren’t you?” Carlton whined. “For being an asshole and letting you get away.”
“Not at all. I’m taking my time, now that I know we have it. Loving on you the way I’ve always wanted.”
Carlton grunted, chasing Deion’s fingers, and he had no choice but to pull them away. “Goddammit, I’m marrying a romantic.”
Deion smiled indulgently. “Yes. Yes you are.”
Carlton’s eyes lit up, and the smile that stretched across his face was nothing short of beautiful. “Then be a romantic and get the lube.”
Deion threw his head back and laughed. “You’re such a jackass.”
“And you love me for it.”
Deion felt in the top drawer until he found the lube, then looked down at him. “And you love me back.”
“Yes. I do.”
Carlton’s eyes were so serious when he said it, and Deion had no choice but to take his lips in another kiss, before pulling back enough to coat his fingers with the lube and returning them to his hole. Carlton didn’t seem the least bit afraid, continuing to press kisses against Deion’s face and neck and lips while Deion took his time stretching him. His best friend. His lover. His fiancé.
Two fingers quickly became three, then four, until Carlton ripped his lips away from Deion’s and grunted, “Get on with it.”
“So damn pushy,” Deion whispered, licking the inside of his ear. He scooted down on the bed and pushed Carlton’s legs up, then stopped. “Condom?”
Carlton paused, thought about it, rolled his lower lip in.
Deion groaned and leaned down, his mouth next to Carlton’s ear. “You want to say no, but we haven’t gotten tests, right?”
“I want to feel you. So much.”
“Baby, we’ve got time.”
Deion grabbed a condom, took his time rolling it down his length to make sure it didn’t break, then lubed up and positioned himself at Carlton’s entrance. He pressed his tip to Carlton, and felt him tense.
“Jesus, you’re so fucking big.”
Deion chuckled, but his shoulders were tight and he was holding himself together by a string. He was big, and he didn’t top often, and he wanted this more than his next breath.
Carlton grabbed his legs, pulled them back as tight as he could, and looked at Deion. “I love you. Please.”
Deion would never tire of those words. Or of the sight of Carlton beneath him, wanting him. He pushed in, just the tip, and waited for Carlton to relax. Inch by inch, working himself slowly into his best friend’s body, reveling in the tight squeeze around him, the way Carlton’s thighs shook, the way he panted as h
e accepted Deion inside. It was almost romantic, except Deion was going to fuck the hell out of him as soon as he was ready for it.
When he was fully seated, Deion braced himself on his elbows and looked down at him. “You okay there?”
“I’m gonna pay for this tomorrow, so you better make it good.”
Deion laughed, his shoulders rolling, and Carlton did the same. That made him clench around Deion’s dick, and they both groaned.
“You ready?” Deion asked.
Carlton looked at him and ran a hand over his face. “Yeah, baby. I’m ready.”
Deion pressed a soft, chaste kiss to his lips, then pulled out and slammed back in.
“Holy fuck!” Carlton yelled underneath him, but Deion didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop, couldn’t do anything more than try his damnedest to get deeper. As deep as possible, until Carlton never thought of leaving Deion again.
And Carlton fucked back on him. Getting the rhythm and taking what he wanted, driving Deion closer and tighter and higher toward the edge.
“Gonna come,” Deion grunted, and Carlton let loose a hoarse laugh, reaching underneath him to grab his dick.
“Come, you sexy bastard. Let me feel it.”
Deion sped up, racing toward the finish, and yelled when he felt Carlton tighten like a vise as he shot between them.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he muttered, then gripped Carlton’s shoulders and stilled.
They lay like that for a few moments before Carlton sighed and softened around him. “I’m not going to be good for a couple of days. I blame you for this.”
Deion snorted. “You wanted it.”
“Goddamn right I did.”
Deion took his time and withdrew, making Carlton hiss again. “Sorry, baby.”
“Don’t be. I asked for it, and it was everything I wanted and more. But you’re in charge of cleanup, man. I don’t think my legs can move.”
Deion laughed and climbed off the bed. Shit, he was a little wobbly himself. “I’ll be back,” he said, walking toward the bathroom.
“And I’ll be waiting.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Do you, Deion Marcel Jones, take Carlton Monroe to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?”
Deion’s hands tightened around Carlton’s as he nodded. “I do.”
It was too cheesy to be getting married on Valentine’s Day, but fuck it. The judge turned to him and his breath caught. “And do you, Carlton Monroe, take this man, Deion Marcel Jones, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?”
Emotion clogged the base of Carlton’s throat, but he swallowed hard and nodded, pushing the words past his lips. “I do.”
The smile that graced Deion’s face at those words was truly a sight to behold, one he wished he could capture forever. Hopefully Trey had gotten a good shot of it.
They had quite a crowd with them. Jaq and his boyfriend, Matt, with Jaq’s daughter, Tanisha. Trey, Olivia, Lawrence, even Gwen. Deion had nearly fallen over when he walked in and found his parents there, his mother braving the cold to show out in a sunflower chiffon dress, because “no one was stopping her from dressing up for her baby’s wedding,” which had even the bailiff and the judge laughing.
Now, that same judge declared, “Then by the powers vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may kiss your spouse.”
Carlton pulled Deion into him and pressed their lips together. It was soft, sweet, the release of twenty years of built-up longing, of desire. It was everything he’d thought he could never have. His best friend. His lover. His husband.
He turned and, gripping Deion’s hand tightly, raised them in the air to cheers. Then Gwen spoke up. “Fifteen minutes, guys.”
Because, through a frenzy of last-minute work, they’d added Deion’s name to the adoption petition. They wanted Olivia to be theirs, not just his. And she’d been overjoyed at the prospect. They weren’t sure the judge would go for it, but Lawrence was convinced they had a good case.
They filed out of the courtroom for the next set of celebrants to enter. Carlton had wanted a more elaborate celebration, but Deion had told him that, after twenty years of unrequited love, he wasn’t waiting that long. He needed to make Carlton his. The sex had been particularly good that night.
One floor down, Lawrence opened the door for them to walk into another courtroom. It was near to packed, and Lawrence pointed to a chunk of empty bench space for them to sit in. A tight fit, to be sure, then Lawrence and Gwen walked to the jury box and motioned for them to stay put while they found seats there.
“That’s so cool,” Olivia whispered, and Carlton had to agree.
Deion’s hand against him tightened, and he could feel the slight tremble in Deion’s thighs.
“Don’t worry,” he whispered. “It’ll work out.”
“What if it doesn’t? What if the judge says I can’t adopt her yet?”
“Then we try again, and don’t stop until she’s officially ours.”
Deion blew out a breath and nodded.
The door behind them opened and Evangelyn walked in, smiling brightly when she saw them before taking a seat in the corner. The door behind the bench opened and the deputy walked out.
“All rise! The Honorable Franklin Willis presiding. Please be seated and come to order.”
Carlton and Deion rose and fell, and now even Carlton’s breath ticked up. God, he wanted this. It was almost hard to believe how much he wanted this.
Judge Willis moved through the docket, calling and dismissing cases left and right. Carlton had no clue what was going on, but the supremely confident expression on both Lawrence’s and Gwen’s faces was enough to keep him from spiraling into an anxious fit.
“All parties on the Olivia Stiles matter, please come forward.”
Carlton and Deion stood, Olivia gripping Carlton’s hand like a lifeline. Evangelyn trailed behind them, while Lawrence and Gwen walked down from the jury box. Carlton was almost afraid to look up, but when he did, Judge Willis didn’t have the stern expression he’d come to think of as his normal in the time he’d been watching. Instead, his face was broad, bright, and he looked almost excited.
“Mr. Jackson, good to see you again, and congratulations on your promotion.”
Lawrence dipped his head and smiled. “Thank you, Your Honor. Let me introduce you to everyone here today. You already know soon-to-be partner Gwen Chang, and the social worker who’s worked tirelessly on this case, Evangelyn Smith-Reis. Next to her is Carlton Monroe and his niece, Olivia Stiles.” He’d left Deion off, and rather than get mad, Carlton mentally thanked him. For all his bluster and shit-talking, Lawrence was also a romantic at heart. He wanted Carlton to be the first to introduce his husband.
“Of course, and good morning to you all.” His eyes focused on Deion, a curious, but not unpleasant expression on his face. “And who’s this?”
Carlton cleared his throat. “Your Honor, this is my best friend turned boyfriend turned, as of thirty minutes ago, husband, Deion Jones.”
“Deion Jones-Monroe,” Deion corrected, and Carlton’s soul took on an imitation of Pepé Le Pew, complete with heart eyes, feet pitter-pattering across the floor after his love. Yeah, he was a goner for this man.
Judge Willis’s smile didn’t falter. “I offer you my sincerest congratulations on your nuptials.”
They both nodded their thanks, and Gwen added, “You’ll see we filed an emergency petition to include Mr. Jones in the adoption proceeding.”
Now Judge Willis gave the briefest of frowns before turning to Evangelyn. “Ms. Smith-Reis, did you have an opportunity to observe Mr. Jones during your evaluation of the family?”
“Yes, your honor,” she said m
atter-of-factly. “Mr. Jones was staying with Mr. Monroe when I first met with them. I’ve had an opportunity to observe him with Olivia, his and Mr. Monroe’s interactions both together and independently with her, and I can say without a shadow of a doubt that he is an exceptional parental figure. The three of them together are a lovely family, and I have no doubt they’ll offer an excellent home for her.”
“And my brother,” Olivia piped up, then winced, like she’d remembered where she was and that she wasn’t supposed to say anything.
“Who’s your brother?” Judge Willis asked.
She pointed behind her. “That’s my brother, Trey,” she said. “He lived with Uncle Carlton his last year in high school before starting college, and that’s what makes me want to do it too.”
Judge Willis looked up, motioned to Trey, sitting surrounded by Deion’s parents, who’d apparently already taken him in as their own, and urged him forward as well. He came up, and Deion and Carlton separated to make room for him and pushed him forward, next to his sister.
“Yes, Your Honor?” Trey asked, a hint of suspicion in his voice.
“You’re Olivia’s big brother?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Can I assume you’re one of those overprotective brothers who warns everyone away from your sister?”
He laughed. “I’m trying not to, but it’s probably gonna happen.”
“Good,” the judge said with a chuckle. “You’re comfortable with your sister being with your uncle Carlton and his husband?”
“Uncle Deion? Oh, for sure. It would’ve been awesome if they’d gotten together when I was still in school. They’re great for her. They’re great for each other,” he continued, his voice lowering to an almost whisper, and Deion squeezed his shoulder.
“Who’re they?” Judge Willis asked, pointed to Deion’s parents.
Deion coughed and spoke up. “Those are my parents. They flew in from London.” At the amused glance from the bench, he shrugged. “I’m their only child. They weren’t missing this.”
The judge smiled and asked them to approach, and then apparently had a “to hell with it” moment and invited everyone who’d attended their wedding to come up. Everyone got there, in front of the bench, and he smiled.