Kyle blanched—he looked older than Matt remembered, haggard, weary. Pity filled Matt’s heart; his wasn’t the only life disrupted by Jordan’s machinations. “It’s okay,” he told Vic. At his lover’s fierce look, Matt added silently, ::Don’t worry, I’m still holding your place.::
Vic brushed past Kyle into the living room and plopped down in his recliner. “So what are you doing here?”
Encouraged by the fact that Vic didn’t throw him out, Kyle ventured into the living room and took a seat at the far end of the couch, opposite Matt. “Jesus,” he sighed, then he laughed, a fractured sound that might’ve gotten away from him if he hadn’t wiped at it with the back of his hand. “I’m so sorry, you guys. I really, truly am. I had no freaking clue.”
Matt pressed his lips together, not in a grin but sympathetic anyway. “I guess you want to talk about it.”
“Man,” Kyle said with a shake of his head. “I come home from work and my place is crawling with cops. Before I even crossed the yard, two officers drew their guns and another tackled me, reading me my rights and I’m yelling the whole time, you know? Then I’m locked into handcuffs and dragged into the house like it’s not even mine. My naked boyfriend’s tied to the bed, there’s cum and crap everywhere, and everyone wants to know how I know you guys. What the hell, you know?”
Before Matt could speak, Vic spoke into his mind. ::He’s only here to prove he’s been wronged, too. The bastard.::
With a sigh, Matt said, “Kyle, I’m sorry you had to get dragged into this.”
Through their mental bond, Vic admonished, ::Don’t apologize to him, Matty. None of this is your fault.::
Unwittingly, Kyle mimicked Vic’s thoughts. “It’s not your fault, Matt. I don’t even know if I should’ve seen this coming. I mean, Jor and I hit it off great when we met at the Y. He has a runner’s body that just won’t quit, and when he saw me looking in the locker room, he came onto me. We had sex in the back seat of my car that same night after the place closed down. Maybe that should’ve clued me in. The guy was always ready to fuck.”
Matt glanced up as a sudden thought struck him. “My car,” he said, turning to look at Vic. “Where is it?”
“Jordan’s,” Vic answered.
“How the hell did it get there?” Matt wanted to know. “When I came by yesterday to get my cell phone, there were no cars parked in front of your house. I didn’t even think anyone was home. Come to think of it, where’s my cell?”
Leaning forward, Kyle plucked the phone from his back pocket and tossed it to Matt, who caught it in his hands. The plastic casing was warm and familiar against his palms, and he closed his fingers around it as if to prove to himself it was really there.
“Jordan drove the red Focus parked across the street,” Kyle said. “You wouldn’t have noticed it unless you knew it was his. Sometime yesterday the guy who cuts my grass came by—he’s just a neighbor’s kid, gonna be a heart breaker when he grows up, I’m telling you. He saw Jordan get the mail or something, figured I was home, and came by looking to make a few bucks trimming the yard.” He scowled, a look of disgust flickering across his face. “Only Jordan offered him a twenty if he’d follow him in your car. The kid’s barely sixteen, you drive a freaking Jag…what’s he gonna say, no?”
The thought of a scrawny teenager behind the wheel of his car made Matt’s blood boil. That wasn’t a cheap car; he’d spent a pretty penny on it a few years back, before he met Vic, when he’d been single and thought the car made the man. “He let some kid drive my car?”
Kyle nodded. “Gave the guy a ride back, paid him the twenty. Then the kid saw the cops later, and now he claims Jordan hit on him on the way back. Nothing big, mind you, just a hand on the knee or some such crap, I’m sure he’s making it up, but still. It’s just icing on the cake, isn’t it?”
“Who called the cops?” Matt asked.
Though he’d been right in the middle of the whole affair, he felt as if he’d been blindfolded and led away, and now had to stumble around grasping for information because everyone was afraid to mention it to him. Still, he had a pretty good idea, and when he looked at Vic, his lover admitted, “Me. When you were in the shower at his place. After…”
He trailed off, but Matt didn’t need a mental connection to know what Vic meant—after he’d tied Jordan up. So the cops had been speeding toward them even as they got away. Another few moments and they wouldn’t have managed to leave, and Matt knew he wouldn’t have been able to face anyone at that moment. Coming home had been the best thing for him at that point.
He sent a mental hug to Vic for getting him out of there before the cops arrived. ::Thanks.::
“So yeah,” Kyle said, trying to draw the conversation back to himself. He looked around their living room with interest, taking in the photographs above the TV, the mugs on the coffee table, a half-used tube of lubricant left on the end table behind Matt. “I didn’t interrupt you guys or anything, did I? I mean, this isn’t a bad time for you, is it?”
“Well,” Matt started.
But behind him, Vic groaned, and Kyle’s grin froze before slipping away. “Well,” he said, pushing himself up off the couch, “just wanted to check in, see how you two were doing, yadda yadda. I can take a hint.”
Vic stood to walk him to the door, but Kyle stopped and held out a hand to Matt, who took it, cautious. Kyle’s grip was sweaty but strong, and with a nod, he told Matt, “I’m really sorry all this happened. I know it’s easy to say after the fact, but if I had even known you were in the spare bedroom, I’d have—”
“I know,” Matt said. The smile he gave his ex was genuine. “You’re not bad people, Kyle, and Jordan doesn’t deserve a guy like you. There’s a better man out there for you, a good man, there has to be. Just keep looking.”
“Don’t worry,” Kyle laughed. “I am.”
When Vic closed the door behind Kyle, he chained it, then threw the deadbolt. Coming back into the living room, he sat down beside Matt and pulled his lover’s legs into his lap. “No more distractions,” he promised, curling his fingers around Matt’s toes. “Now I’ll have to start all over again.”
With a smile, Matt stretched back against the arm of the couch. “But I saved your place.”
Vic leaned down over him, the fiery lust in his eyes igniting the passion between them. “Where was I?”
“This was here—” Taking Vic’s right arm in his hands, Matt sat up a bit and eased it behind his back before laying down again. “And this one was here…” Vic’s left hand was placed on Matt’s waist; he opened the bottom of his shirt, undoing the next button up just for a little more room, then folded Vic’s fingers over the top of his unbuttoned fly. His stomach still tightened beneath Vic’s touch, even when Matt was the one guiding his lover’s hand. He placed Vic’s thumbnail on the pull of his zipper and sighed, “Like this.”
“You have a good memory,” Vic teased. “What next?”
Matt ran his hands down Vic’s broad chest, then grabbed fists full of his shirt and pulled him closer. “You were right…about…here.”
He pressed his lips to Vic’s mouth, and words were lost between them.
Matt let go of Vic’s shirt and eased his hands down to his lover’s waist, where he unbuttoned Vic’s jeans as his lover resumed his slow, heady kisses. They spent the rest of the night relearning each other’s bodies, exploring familiar flesh, reaffirming their love.
Each kiss, each touch, each breath pushed the events of the past few days farther and farther from Matt’s mind, and when they made love, it seemed like the first time and forever wrapped into one, shining climax.
They fell asleep on the couch, bodies meshed and Matt’s limp length still held deep within his lover. It seemed as if Jordan had never existed at all; the only man Matt had ever given himself to, mind, body, and soul, was Vic Braunson.
THE END
* * * *
ABOUT J.M. SNYDER
A multi-published author of gay erotic/romantic fi
ction, J.M. Snyder began writing boyband slash before turning to self-publishing. She has worked with several different e-publishers, including Amber Allure Press, Aspen Mountain Press, eXcessica Publishing, and Torquere Press, and has short stories published in anthologies by Alyson Books, Aspen Mountain Press, Cleis Press, eXcessica Publishing, Lethe Press, and Ravenous Romance. For more information, including excerpts, free stories, and monthly contests, please visit jmsnyder.net.
ABOUT JMS BOOKS LLC
Founded in 2010, JMS Books LLC is owned and operated by author J.M. Snyder. We publish a variety of genres, including gay erotic romance, fantasy, young adult, poetry, and nonfiction. We are an invitation-only small press. Short stories and novellas are available as e-books and compiled into single-author print anthologies, while any story over 30k in length is available in both print and e-book formats. Visit us at jms-books.com for more information on our latest releases!
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