Truth & Tenderness

by Tere Michaels

  He knew what Matt wanted, and suddenly it connected in some sort of wild and ridiculous meaningful act in his mind.

  The rub of flesh against flesh nearly shorted out Evan’s brain—he knew what he wanted to do to Matt, for Matt—but God. He bent his knees slightly, then stroked up, and they almost went down in a pile under the rush of water. The sensation became a need as he slowly pulled away.

  Matt reached back for him, but Evan was already on his knees.

  “Mmm, what you do to me,” Evan whispered as he turned Matt toward him, guiding hands on his hips. He looked up, the water hitting Matt’s shoulders and raining down on Evan.

  Whatever dizzying hunger was running through Evan’s mind and body, Matt’s expression captured it perfectly. Evan didn’t wait—not when they were both starving for it. He swirled his tongue against the head of Matt’s cock, brazenly maintaining eye contact.

  Evan ran his lips along the length of Matt’s dick. Matt’s dick. His dick. The thought came into Evan’s head unbidden and fierce.

  With that in mind, Evan curled his tongue around the head and let the hard wet rod slide deep into his mouth, then drew back, flicking his tongue against the underside, licking him slowly. He repeated the pattern over and over, his gaze fixed on Matt’s face, watching his every gasp and moan.

  Evan knew Matt was holding back—he could feel the strain of his body, the rigid way he held his breath—but Evan knew all the secrets. He knew how to suck the smooth head in just enough and hold until Matt trembled. Evan wrapped his fingers around Matt’s dick as he lavished attention on the head, rolling his hand up and down the length. Then he hungrily sank back down, sliding his other hand behind Matt’s ass, working a finger inside to tease his hole.

  Evan tightened his lips against Matt’s cock as a grin filled his face. Matt’s immediate physical reaction was too obvious to ignore. Evan pulled back again and pressed a kiss to the base of Matt’s dick, wriggling his finger farther inside.

  And then Matt took over. Evan opened his mouth wider, teasing with his finger, letting Matt have his way.

  Matt dropped his hands to either side of Evan’s face, shivering. The water had started to go cold, but Evan didn’t blink or complain—he just relaxed his jaw, his throat, and stared up at Matt with absolute adoration.

  He didn’t have to wait long. Matt was long past being patient or gentle. He gave over to Evan’s acquiescence and pumped his hips with abandon.

  IN BED, Evan didn’t want anything. Matt kept sliding his hand between Evan’s legs, but Evan pushed him away gently, distracting him with kisses.

  “Why don’t you want me?” Matt whispered, biting at his jaw and neck. “I want you.”

  “You had me,” Evan croaked in return. He took Matt’s hand and wrapped it around his throat.

  Matt laughed and moaned, pressing Evan into the mattress. “Is this so I’ll forgive you for being late?” he teased, tightening his grip just enough to make Evan raise his hips off the bed.

  Evan shook his head, lost for a second in the combination of Matt’s blanketing heat and the dizzying relief of Matt’s hands on him. “No.” He coughed a little, the burn of his throat worth it. “Maybe.”

  “Jerk.” Matt moved his hands then, surging up over Evan and pinning him to the bed. “Maybe I don’t forgive you yet.”

  Evan struggled just enough for Matt to know he was game. “You trying to fuck another apology out of me, Haight?” he whispered.

  Matt’s smile turned wicked.

  Chapter 21

  THE BAR crawl wasn’t anywhere Matt wanted to be. Another GOAL activity for the young single and those reentering the dating scene. Two new recruits to the organization were supposed to be chaperoning the thing, but one broken leg (skiing) and a concussion (jerk who didn’t want to stop punching another jerk) had left GOAL in need of responsible adults.

  Apparently Evan owed Jesse a favor.

  So Matt, in jeans and a tight black sweater, hustled a group of twenty-two singles, as they grew more and more inebriated, through the streets of the Village.

  “Where now?” he asked Evan, who was soberly manning the map, checking locations on his phone.

  “Around the block—we’ll be sampling tequila.”

  A “woo-hoo, yeah” chant started up behind them. Matt wished he had a nightstick. “How is this an intelligent exercise in meeting people? There’s going to be a bunch of hookups; then everything is awkward at the barbecue next month,” Matt whispered. “Not to mention the NYPD’s finest lurching down the street, publicly intoxicated.”

  “Well if you hate it, show up at the events committee and make suggestions,” Evan said, giving him the cross father look.

  “Oh, you did not just tell me to put up or shut up.”

  “No,” Evan said slowly. “I told you to come to the meetings and make a suggestion.”

  “Here’s my suggestion—herding drunks around is a shitty way to spend a Saturday night.”

  At the next bar, Matt found a corner table while their group bellied up the bar—literally—for a tequila sampling.

  “I know how this ends,” Matt muttered to himself as he flipped through his phone. He and Jim had exchanged e-mails earlier in the day; Jim would be flying out to Oregon to meet with the Ashland PD himself, in hopes of pushing the department to reopen the case of the murdered coed, with Tripp as their prime suspect. Griffin was staying at the house with Daisy and Sadie, and Matt had promised to check on them while pretending he wasn’t checking on them at Jim’s behest.

  He got it—he totally did.

  On to sports scores, he missed the arrival of Casper Vaughn. One second Evan was chatting with the bar owner. The next Evan was crowded into the corner with Casper.

  Overdressed douche bag.

  Matt stuck his phone in his pocket, then sauntered over to where the two men were talking. “Oh hey, Casper, great to see you,” he said, wrapping one arm around Evan’s waist. “Getting back on the horse—that’s fantastic.”

  Evan elbowed him in the stomach, but Matt didn’t let go.

  Casper looked at him like Matt had just crawled up from the sewer. Yeah, son, the feeling is entirely mutual.

  “Actually I came to see Evan—didn’t realize you’d be here,” Casper said, faux pleasant. “Don’t you usually babysit on Saturday nights?”

  “Our kids are out with family. We have a free night to uh….” Matt smirked as he rocked his hips. “Have a good time.”

  “Glad you could join us,” Evan cut in. “We need to move on.”

  Evan wrestled out of Matt’s arms, then walked away, map and phone in hand. “Let’s go, everyone,” he called.

  Casper and Matt shared a long, nasty glare, then followed Evan and the crowd out the door.

  EVAN FINALLY cracked and had a drink at the final bar, a hole-in-the-wall with a band and the world’s smallest dance floor. They shared a beer, Matt glued to Evan’s side like a predatory bodyguard, his hands wandering as far as Evan would let them.

  Evan… let him.

  Everything felt like a test: how long Evan talked to Casper, how affectionate he was with Matt in public, what they discussed about work. Rather than feeling pressured or uncomfortable, Evan leaned against Matt with absolute abandon.

  If this was a test, Evan was acing it.

  “How drunk do you have to be before you’ll let me kiss you in public?” Matt whispered in his ear. Evan was leaning on a cocktail table, Matt behind him, their bodies lined up perfectly. “And how much have you had so far?”

  “Half a beer,” Evan whispered back.

  “Is that the answer to both?”

  Evan pushed back with his hips just slightly.

  Matt bit the back of his neck. “How many drinks will it take for you to dance with me?” Matt asked as he pulled Evan onto the dance floor.

  “Half a beer,” Evan said, clumsy in Matt’s arms until he stopped trying to lead.

  They slow danced on the floor, ignoring the alcohol-fueled hook
ups happening around them, some of which might indeed lead to awkwardness at the barbecue.

  Evan didn’t care. His body buzzed with desire, his brain shorted in and out; he kept trying to find a memory to match this moment from before, and nothing came to mind.

  Nothing.

  This was theirs.

  “How much… how drunk do you have to be,” he asked Matt breathlessly, “for me to fuck you?”

  Matt pulled back, his face a picture of utter surprise as he blinked at Evan. “What?”

  “We tried that time and it didn’t work.” Because I was too afraid and too stupid, he thought. “But it’s different now.”

  He didn’t answer—no, Matt gave him the most perfect answer in the world. He kissed Evan on the dance floor, tender and romantic.

  MATT DIDN’T want to say good-bye to Casper—he grabbed Evan’s hand, threw a hundred at the bartender, then headed for the door. The car was parked at Port Authority, which meant a cab ride to Midtown. Evan let himself be pulled along, pliant and smiling like he had a secret in the backseat of the taxi.

  “What’s gotten into you?” Matt said, twitching with how much he wanted to be home, now.

  Evan shrugged, rolling closer to him as they sped along Tenth Avenue. “You, repeatedly,” he deadpanned. “Now it’s my turn.”

  MIDNIGHT. THE kids were in bed, Miranda asleep in Katie’s room. Evan in the lead, they tiptoed through the house, stopping periodically to kiss, sloppy and frantic, on the stairs.

  “Hurry up,” Evan laughed, pulling away. “It’s sure as hell not happening here.”

  He pushed Matt through the bedroom door, then shut it behind them. Turned the lock and leaned back against it, reaching for the top button of his shirt.

  “Take off your damn clothes, Haight,” he said, already pulling his shirt out of his pants.

  Matt didn’t go for finesse or a sexy striptease. He pulled the sweater over his head, wrestled out of his jeans without looking away from Evan’s face. Evan let everything fall away—clothes, inhibitions.

  When he was naked—but more importantly, when Matt was naked—Evan pushed off the door.

  “Bed?” Matt asked, grinning with anticipation.

  Evan shook his head. “Up against the wall.”

  He arranged Matt the way he wanted: facing the wall, braced against his arms. He dropped to his knees and pushed Matt’s legs apart just enough to reach his goal. Evan pressed his lips to the base of Matt’s spine, then traveled down between his asscheeks and wetly kissed his hole.

  This wasn’t new. Evan listened to Matt curse, then buried his tongue inside his lover. In, pull back, in again. He tightened his fingers against Matt’s hips, holding him in place.

  Matt’s entire body was moving, pushing back greedily to get more and more of Evan’s mouth.

  Evan dropped one hand to his lap to take his dick in hand. He stroked in time with the plunge of his tongue until he was moaning into Matt’s skin through the spit-slick kisses.

  When they were both moaning and moving with abandon, Evan found his moment to pull back. “Here or on the bed?” he asked, moving his hands over Matt’s back and hips and thighs.

  “Bed,” Matt moaned out, still rocking back against Evan.

  MATT LAY facedown on the bed, shaking and rubbing against the bedspread in his frantic need to come. Evan straddled his thighs, aggressively sliding two fingers and too much lube inside him. Matt loved this, needed it, but the next step kept his body tense.

  “Calm, calm, easy,” Evan murmured, increasing the thrust of his fingers. “Just let me in.”

  Matt couldn’t stop moving.

  “Up now, like that.” Matt knew how to rise on his knees, slope his back and open his hips. He saw Evan in that position, knew the gorgeous sound Evan made when Matt pushed inside him.

  He didn’t make that sound—he jerked and flinched at the pain.

  “Do you want me to—”

  “Don’t stop,” Matt moaned as he pressed his face into the comforter. His voice shorted out with one last fevered gasp. After that it was just silence save their shared labored breathing as Evan breached Matt’s body with his own. The pain was overwhelming, the burn seemed to rip him in half—but he didn’t say no or stop or jerk away. He relaxed as much as he could, breathing in a slow rasp against the mattress.

  Evan was as gentle as he could be, pushing his dick inside slowly and carefully. He wrapped an arm around Matt’s chest, anchoring them together, and whispered in Matt’s ear. “God, I love you, you feel so good. Let me in, baby, let me in.”

  “Yeah,” Matt breathed. “Oh….” Something caught in his psyche; the hot stab of pain turned into pressure, which turned to an anxious thrust backward. His breath stuttered, his entire focus on his growing sense of need.

  Evan waited, his movements small and gentle until he seemed to sense Matt’s readiness. “Now okay? I’m gonna…,” Evan muttered, and then everything in Matt’s world tilted sideways.

  His arms slid until his chest hit the bed; Evan went with him, the angle and penetration taking Matt’s breath away.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Every time Evan slammed forward, the word forced itself out of Matt’s mouth. Matt heard the bed hitting the wall; he heard his own voice crying out in sheer surprise at how much he never wanted it to end.

  Evan drew a sudden deep breath, eased back a little way, then pushed in with a shudder until Matt jerked like something lit up inside him.

  “…ohgodohgod,” Matt babbled, fingers scrabbling against the comforter as he fought to push back and pull away from Evan at the same time.

  “Oh God,” Evan gasped. “Oh fuck, Matt.”

  Yes, so good—Matt was in total agreement, but he couldn’t speak beyond moans or register anything past the painful, beautiful ache from Evan’s pounding movements. He crossed the place, that line in his head where he ceased to be anything but in this moment.

  His whole body rocking, writhing, Evan grew louder, more vigorous, as Matt lost himself in the sensation, listening as Evan’s words got more filthy, more brutal, until they dissolved into guttural sounds.

  Matt was floating in bliss, even as his body was taken and lovingly bruised. He absorbed it all, greedy and passive at once. The urgency to come peaked as Evan jerked hard against him, the sensation of his orgasm shaking Matt loose.

  Evan reached around to stroke his cock once, twice, and then Matt lost himself in coming.

  HUMID, HOT, sticky—Evan would normally be up and out of the bed, eager to wipe off and be comfortable. But for now, the sprawl against Matt’s back felt too perfect to disturb. He pulled out slowly, soothing the murmured hitch in Matt’s breathing with a kiss against his shoulder.

  But he still didn’t get up.

  “Too heavy?” he whispered, arms tight around Matt’s chest.

  “Yeah, but don’t move,” Matt answered, his voice hoarse and quiet.

  Evan didn’t move.

  They lay there until the cooling of their bodies made them both twitch and Evan couldn’t delay the inevitable. “Stay here,” he said, sliding off Matt’s muscular form with reluctance, and onto wobbly knees.

  “No argument.”

  In the bathroom, Evan snapped on the light. As he removed the condom to tie it off, he caught sight of himself in the mirror.

  He looked debauched and… smug.

  Biting back a laugh, Evan threw the condom into the trash can, then washed his hands with the cloth next to the sink. He knew there would be a conversation when he got back into the bedroom. He knew they had issues to work through.

  But right now, he felt so fucking buzzed and satisfied and—in love with Matt.

  WHEN EVAN returned with a washcloth, Matt was far ahead of him. He had stripped and remade the bed and cleaned up and was putting a pile of sheets in the hamper.

  “How long was I in there?” Evan asked, wrapping his arm around Matt’s middle. “I thought you were down for the count.”

  “Second wind,” Matt replied
. Truth was, once the afterglow started to wear off, he’d felt a little uncomfortable. And not just because his ass hurt.

  Did that just happen—as fucking amazing as it was—because Matt was jealous and Evan felt guilty?

  Evan rocked his hips against his ass. “Again? I might need some sugar or something to boost my energy.”

  “That’s okay, Casanova.” Matt pulled away. Not angrily, not even because he was uncomfortable. More that he needed to talk (they needed to talk) and he didn’t know where to start.

  “Are you sorry we did that?” Evan asked suddenly, his voice taking on the sharp quality that had been plaguing them all too often lately.

  “No.” Matt turned around, now very aware they were naked with the lights on and about to slip into a tense conversation.

  Matt sat down on the bed, wincing at the pull in his lower back.

  Evan’s face went tight.

  “No, I’m not sorry. I’m just a little… I don’t know. Too old not to notice that this came along at a really weird moment for us.”

  Evan dropped the damp washcloth in the hamper. He walked a few paces before settling down next to Matt. “Maybe it was that beer,” he started, a little smile crossing his lips as he attempted to make a joke. “And maybe it was me just trying to concentrate on the good parts and not the bullshit.”

  Shaking his head, Matt ran both hands through the sweaty mess of his hair. “I don’t like bullshit, Evan. I don’t want it to be fights and fucking, because that’s not who we are.”

  “No, we’re not.” Evan leaned into Matt’s side so they were shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh. “We won’t be.”

  The silence wove around them, not entirely uncomfortable. Matt blew out a sigh and Evan slid his hand into Matt’s.

  “Casper Vaughn is a dick and I don’t like him,” Matt said eventually.

  “We work together,” Evan said, tightening his grip on Matt’s hand. “But we don’t have to see him outside of that if you don’t want to. He’s going through a lot right now.”