Behind Iron Lace

by Celeste, Mercy

  “I want to watch you, oh, God—I dreamed about you this morning.” He turned red, embarrassed.

  “Yeah, Darce? What was I doing?”

  “This. Fucking me, just like this—Caleb, this feels so good.”

  “Feels good to me too, Darce. I like that you dreamed about me, did you come?”

  “In the shower. Couldn’t stop myself, I wanted you so much.” The blush infused his face and spread down his neck, onto his chest. It was almost enough to send Caleb over the edge.

  “That makes me so fucking hot, bebe. Bet it felt so good, stroke yourself like you did this morning. Let me watch you.” He didn’t think he would, but Darcy had surprised him so many times tonight he could hope. Darcy didn’t disappoint him. Blushing like crazy, he grasped his cock and slowly pumped himself. Caleb followed his tempo easing inside him to the rhythm he set. Darcy didn’t seem to know he moved with him, almost instinctively, long slow strokes that had him panting. “That is so wicked, baby. Your cock likes that, doesn’t it, baby? It feels good, doesn’t it?”

  “I never knew how good this could feel,” he said, his voice a whisper. “I’m so close, Caleb, I want you so much.”

  “I know you do, baby. Oh, Darce, shit, baby, scoot back some, give me room on this thing.” He pushed him gently toward the far edge of the ottoman and slowly climbed on top of him. “Wrap your legs around me, baby. Christ, yeah, just like that.”

  Muscular thighs surrounded him, pressed against him, holding him captive as he lowered his body to meet Darcy’s. The heat of his cock pressed into his belly, slick and throbbing. Strong arms embraced him, pulling him closer; harsh, sweet breath warmed his cheek. Caleb thought he would die when Darcy kissed him. His tongue seeking Caleb’s this time, his lips at first so soft, turned demanding. “Fuck me, harder, Caleb. Christ, this feels so good. Almost as if we were making love.”

  “We are making love, bebe. Sweet soft love. I could love you forever, Darce, oh bebe, yeah,” he had no idea what he was saying, pleasure swirled in his brain. He rocked into him, faster, harder, feeling Darcy’s dick slide between them, hot and pulsing. “Mon amour doux, you feel so nice, j’aime yous baiser.”

  “I love when you speak French,” Darcy said against his mouth, his body trembling beneath him. “I’m—Caleb—shit.”

  Caleb winced when he twisted his fingers in his hair, his body going rigid, liquid heat erupted between them. “Mon amour doux, my sweet love. I’m there baby, I can’t stop.”

  “Don’t stop, it feels good.” He held him tight, his breath coming in jagged gasps. Caleb let the pleasure swimming in his brain run free. It consumed him, sending him shooting out of control. Darcy cried out as his release filled him, his body shaking from the shock.

  When he could, Caleb slowly withdrew and rolled to his side taking Darcy with him. Holding him close while he recovered, he placed soft kisses on his face, his neck. “Merde.”

  “What does Merde mean?” His voice was barely a whisper.

  “Shit or fuck.” Caleb felt him smile against his neck. “It seemed to apply.”

  “Merde, I’ll have to remember that for next time.” Darcy’s hand was so hot as he caressed his hip. “You’re still wearing jeans.”

  “I was in a hurry, didn’t want you to change your mind. Next time I’ll strip first.” He laughed, little shivers of something sticky and warm seemed to want to grip his chest and squeeze. The last time he’d felt like this—he wouldn’t think about that. Not now. “Will there be a next time?”

  Darcy fell still, his body seemed to tense as if he’d just realized they’d done something monumental—or wrong. “This wasn’t wrong, cher. Darcy, please don’t—”

  “J’aime yous baiser. I know what that means, funny how you remember the curse words and not much else from high school.” He was finally able to look him in the eyes. “Something about love and fuck.”

  “Did I say that? I can’t remember.” He did remember he’d called him his sweet love.

  “You did, just before you came. Christ, this can’t be happening. I should go home.” He started to pull away now that reality reared its ugly head.

  “I meant it. I loved fucking you. I want you so much, Darcy. I haven’t wanted anyone like this in so long. Hell, I can’t even remember it’s been so long.” Caleb felt a tug at his neck as Darcy fingered the cross he wore to remind him of something he would rather forget.

  “You said it’s been seven years since you’ve been with a man. Why is that?”

  He didn’t want to think about that time. He didn’t want to remember, he laid his hand over Darcy’s, over the cross. “I fell in love with a soldier while I was on assignment in Iraq. I’d never been in love before. I got stupid.” He refused to let the memory out, not now. Not after—

  “What happened?” It was an innocent question. Caleb swiped at the stinging wetness at the corner of his eye.

  “He died in my arms and I won a Pulitzer. I don’t like remembering that day. I haven’t looked at the pictures. I couldn’t. I just turned the film over to my editor and walked away. I spent a lot of time drinking after that. And painting. I sold the paintings to a gallery in New York. I thought I’d purged him.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Same age as you are now, cher. That was a long time ago. A lifetime ago. I’ve never told anyone about that. Ever.”

  “Why did you tell me?” His fingers brushed the tattoo on Caleb’s chest, unaware of the painful memory that lay beneath it.

  “Because you asked, and because I haven’t felt like this since then. I don’t want to fall in love with you. I don’t. I don’t want to risk it.”

  “I should leave.” He didn’t understand that it was too late. Leaving wouldn’t do any good now.

  “We should go to my bed, this thing is not comfortable.” He laid his hand on Darcy’s shoulder, holding him still. “I want to feel you inside me, Darcy. After that, if you still want to go, I’ll call you a cab and send you home. Please, Darcy, stay, just a little while longer.”

  Darcy woke up alone in a warm patch of sunlight from a skylight far above him. He stretched, loving the feel of the soft sheets wrapped around him. He was naked, his body still tingling from a night of great sex. Shame settled over him as he remembered the things Caleb had done to him, the things he’d done to Caleb made him ache. Shit, Darcy had fucked him, hard and long and nasty right here in this very bed. Holding him pinned beneath him while he begged him for more. It was rough, and so fucking satisfying. Merde, shit. He laughed, the sound startled him as it echoed off the brick walls.

  It was quiet, he realized as he climbed out of bed, the music vibrating the floor had finally stopped sometime after he’d fallen asleep. He found his way to the living room and retrieved his clothes. His glasses were still on the couch where Caleb left them. His phone wasn’t in his pocket with his wallet and keys. Where? He’d dropped it at the foot of the stairs. Shit. He buttoned his shirt as he lumbered down, his phone lay near the open doorway. He retrieved it and winced at the missed calls. Shit, it was after noon. Bailey must be out of her mind by now. He pressed her number and waited.

  “Where in the hell are you? You had me scared to death. I came by your apartment but you didn’t answer the door. I thought something had happened to you.” He held the phone away from his ear while she ranted. “Are you all right? Dar, say something.”

  “I’m fine, Bailey.” He couldn’t find it in himself to call her anything less than her name. “I just had a bad night, probably food poisoning, I don’t know, and I overslept. How did the launch go?”

  “Great, early feedback is wonderful. I’d tell Caleb but he didn’t come in either.”

  “I told him not to bother, Monday would be soon enough. Hey Bailey, I’m not going to try to come in today. I need the break. Tell everyone I’m sorry I’m not there and I’m proud of them.” For some reason, he needed his writers to know this, today, now. “And not because of some fancy page layout changes but because they
are a great bunch of people.”

  “Are you sure you’re all right, Dar? You sound strange.” Despite everything, Bailey always did know how to read him. What would she say if he told her he’d done something that was going to change everything? Hell, he didn’t know how to process this yet. This feeling that made him want to vomit and dance around on thin air at the same time. How was he going to explain this to her?

  “I’m fine, Bailey, really, I—I just need some time to think about things.”

  “Remember the vacation you wanted? I have an idea, why don’t we leave Chester here to take care of things for a week and we go home, just the two of us. You’re right, Dar, the heat is getting to me and—”

  “Sounds great, Bailey, we’ll talk about it next week, okay?” Her voice sounded almost desperate, just like she sounded every time he’d thought about leaving her. Did she know he’d left with Caleb? Was it just a coincidence that her possessiveness had returned now? How could she know? Did it matter if she knew? “Listen I’m going to run now. I think I’m just going to go back to sleep. I’ll see you Monday.”

  “Sure, Dar, hey I haven’t told you in a long time, but I love you, you know that right?” There it was again, something in her tone he hadn’t heard in a long time. Maybe he’d never heard her like this. Rattled. Bailey was rattled.

  “Yeah, Bailey, I know. Oh hey, don’t forget to hand out assignments, I have everything in the calendar, and have a good weekend.”

  “Yeah, okay, sure, you too.” There was disappointment in her voice. He wasn’t imagining it. He closed his phone, he didn’t have time to think about his messed up relationship with her. He’d wasted a decade of his life waiting for her to decide what he should do. When she needed him, he was there, until last summer he knew he would always be there for her. Now, well now, things had changed. This wasn’t the life he wanted and Bailey no longer had a say in his decisions.

  Loud angry voices penetrated his reverie. Caleb’s voice filled with heat licked at him, drawing him out into the public area of the bar. He stopped at the end of the hallway and leaned against the wall. Caleb dressed in nothing but a pair of jeans circled an older man, the muscles in his arms flexed in irritation. His hair was tousled, his eyes on fire. Darcy’s stomach pitched in an unfamiliar way, nearly bringing him to his knees as he watched him move almost cat-like around the other man.

  Their words made no sense, half in the broken Cajun English he barely understood. It was about Caleb’s mother. His uncle? He figured out the uncle wouldn’t go see his sister before she died. Caleb was angry. They were all that was left of the Lasseigne family. His uncle was afraid to see her wasted body. His big sister was always so full of energy. “I don’t care, Jebadiah, she doesn’t ask for you no more but it hurts her heart that you don’t come.”

  “Don’t tell me how to be, Remy. She doesn’t even know the world exists now. She won’t even know I’m there.” There was bitter pain in the man’s voice, Darcy could hear it. Why couldn’t Caleb? And who the hell was Remy?

  “Remy is Caleb’s first name, cher, Uncle Jeb calls him that to make him mad, and it’s working.” The waitress from the night before quietly stood beside him, she winked at him. He hadn’t heard her come up, and what was with these Cajuns and the mind reading? She looked at him with amused, very knowing eyes. “I see what devil got into him last night. Oh don’t blush, sugar. I’ve known Caleb a long time. He’s a hard man to resist when he wants something.”

  Darcy tried to pretend he didn’t know what she was talking about. But because he was here, wearing the same clothes as the night before he knew there was no denying anything. “Yeah, well. What’s going on there?”

  “Caleb’s mama is dying. Breast cancer, she fought a long hard battle, Uncle Jeb won’t go see her and Caleb doesn’t like it.”

  Drawn by their voices, the older man turned, his eyes settled on him with a mixture of sadness and anger. It was the bar owner, O’Doul. He was Caleb’s uncle?

  “Oh, cher, why you done brought dat duck into this? I warned you to stay away from him.” The words washed over Darcy like a glacier. Caleb whirled around to face him, something dark passed over his face.

  “Leave it alone, Uncle, it’s none of your concern.”

  “You fucking him, boy, it ain’t natural. How long before he end up like the first one?”

  Darcy heard Teela gasp, Caleb grew very pale, his eyes becoming brilliant fire as he bared his teeth. “Feet pue tan. Taut t’en grosse buche.”

  “Viole merde.” His uncle sneered back at him, launching a flow of French which left Darcy confused. Caleb answered, his voice low, his words clipped but in French.

  “What are they saying?” He asked Teela who looked just as confused as he was.

  “Well, cher, Caleb called him a son of a bitch and told him to shut his mouth. Uncle Jeb told him to go to shit then I lost them. I don’t speak real French, just Cajun English like most of us do now.” She looked just as pale as Caleb and refused to meet Darcy’s eye.

  “But you know what they’re talking about?”

  “I know, cher, but it isn’t my place to tell Caleb’s business. His uncle shouldn’t have shamed him like that in front of you. Just because he, well, let’s just say Uncle Jeb isn’t a happy person and be done with it. I got to go now, cher. Caleb will have me fired if he knows I told you anything. It was nice meeting you, cher. I hope to see you again.”

  She left him standing there watching as the two men shouted angry words at each other, O’Doul threw his hands in the air and then left. Caleb just stood there, his shoulders slumped as if he carried an incredible burden.

  “You hungry, cher?”

  It took him a few seconds to realize Caleb was talking to him. “Not really.”

  Caleb turned to face him, his shoulders high, his mouth hitched in a half grin, the sorrow in his eyes faded out as Darcy watched. Icy fingers gripped Darcy’s throat. He’d never seen anyone do that before. “That was my uncle, Jebadiah Lasseigne. You know him as O’Doul, he likes to pretend he is someone other than what he is. Don’t pay him no mind.”

  “Sure.” The icy grip of fear became a hot tremble that slithered inside Darcy’s belly as Caleb drew near. He moved gracefully across the room, his bare skin golden under the dim lights, his eyes and his mouth did things to him, seduced him without even trying. He was breathless long before Caleb kissed him. Standing there in the middle of the bar with staff watching them, he kissed him and all Darcy could think was how far it was up to his bed.

  “You want me to call you a cab now, cher?” his voice trembled against Darcy’s cheek. “I will if you want me to.”

  “Do you want me to go?” Unsure of himself, Darcy swallowed hard.

  “Stay with me,” Caleb breathed, his eyes full of pain and doubt.

  “Okay,” he said just as softly, letting his hands slide along Caleb’s back. He could feel eyes on them, others watching as Caleb pressed his forehead to Darcy’s. “Upstairs, this is too public.”

  Fear entered Caleb’s eyes, real fear that had Darcy sweating. He stepped away quickly, his shoulders stiff.

  “It’s just me, cousin,” the waitress, Teela, spoke from the end of the bar. “No one saw anything but me.”

  “Yeah, hey Teela, when Jerome gets those beignets done, gimme a holler, will ya?” Caleb’s voice shook a little which he covered by snagging Darcy’s little finger and more or less pulling him down the corridor to the stairs and up before she could reply.

  Once the door closed, Darcy watched him take a deep breath. He walked into the small kitchen at the back of the large open room. “Want some juice, cher, or milk?”

  “Orange juice will be fine,” Darcy wanted to ask more but thought it would be best not to pry.

  “Teela is my cousin, of a sort, her mama is one of my grand-pere’s bastards, grand-pere means grandfather by the way. Well, she’s his daughter. Maman always said it’s what killed grand-mere, his cheating on her. I know of Teela, we have the same e
yes. We suspect there are a few more. Grand-pere left them very little but enough to raise questions. Hell, sometimes I swear he would have left me nothing at all if Maman weren’t already sick and Jeb incompetent. He wasn’t a nice man.” Caleb poured two tumblers with orange juice and handed one to Darcy before he seated himself on the counter. Pushing back, he let his feet dangle. “He didn’t approve of my lifestyle. I spent a long time away from home because I wasn’t welcome here. Jeb carries on his bias, but he has no control over me. I try to keep it to myself.”

  “But they know,” Darcy hadn’t meant to say it. Caleb’s jaw tightened.

  “Everybody knows. I sleep with women to make them forget. It’s New Orleans, nobody cares until it’s in their face, then everyone has an opinion. I’m gay, big deal. When Maman is gone, keeping it quiet won’t matter as much.”

  Before Darcy could think of a reply, there was a soft knock at the door. Caleb looked up in alarm as it opened and Teela came in carrying a heavy tray of food. “Damn, them stairs are steep.”

  “You didn’t have to haul that up here, cher. I would have come and got it.” Caleb slid over on the counter opening up a spot for her to leave the tray. Darcy helped her steady it as she lowered it to rest beside him.

  “I thought I’d save you the trip and the scrutiny. Jerome sent up a bunch of stuff, he’s a good man. The rest are twittering in the corner when they think I’m not looking. It’s been a long time, cuz, a long time.” She bumped his leg with her hip, her eyes on Darcy. “He is a pretty one. Oh lawd, look at him blush. Sugar baby, is sweet.”

  “Stop embarrassing him, cher, you’ll make him run and that will make me cranky and guess where one shifty waitress will find herself.” A hint of pink infused Caleb’s face, a small smile stretched his lips. “He is sweet.”

  “Remy Caleb Lasseigne Mitchell, paw-paw just turned in his grave.” She laughed, a high-pitched sound that made Caleb blush even more.

  “Yeah, well, he’s just looking for someone to kiss his ass in the afterlife,” Caleb said with a snort. “Okay, get on with you, I’m hungry and you’re supposed to be taking care of my business downstairs instead of minding it upstairs.”