by Carter Ashby
“No exceptions.”
Adam frowned and nodded. “Is there anything you need to tell me about that? Any reason you aren’t willing to be…flexible…on the issue?”
Cash swallowed down the lump in his throat. He looked into Adam’s eyes and wanted, so badly, for this to work out. But there were just things he couldn’t talk about yet. He tried for as much honesty as possible. “Yes. But I’m not ready to talk. Is…is that okay with you?”
Adam’s smile was brief and sympathetic. He put his hand over Cash’s. “It’s okay with me…for now.”
“Good.”
“What else do I need to know? You into anything kinky?”
Cash chuckled. “Depends. I wouldn’t mind tying you up.”
Adam’s blush was a gift. He looked away, almost as though he was too embarrassed to maintain eye contact. “I don’t think I’m gonna let you tie me up until we’ve established some trust between us.”
Cash moved in and slid his hand over Adam’s shoulders. “I promise it would be worth your while.”
Adam’s blush deepened. He looked up at Cash. “I’m sure it would. Why don’t we see how we do together first?”
Their lips were too close not to kiss. It was better this time. Cash didn’t have the panic. Adam was keeping his distance, which helped. He seemed to be making himself smaller, lower…diminishing himself so that Cash could feel safe. The behavior did not go unappreciated. Cash took Adam in his arms and deepened the kiss, silently thanking Adam for letting him take the lead.
“Wow,” Adam said, when their lips finally parted.
Cash grinned. He stood, pulling Adam to his feet, and gestured for Adam to lead the way down the hall.
Adam had never in his life gone to bed with a man while feeling uncomfortable or insecure. There was no room in a healthy relationship for fear.
But here he was, about to give himself to a man who was clearly dealing with some hefty baggage, and who had about two inches and thirty pounds on Adam. Even as he peeled off his shirt and helped Cash out of his, Adam wondered if he should back out.
Cash’s lips, his touch, and his vulnerability all won out over Adam’s fear, though, and Adam found himself willing to take the risk. “It’s been a while for me,” Adam said, “so…go easy at first.”
Cash nodded as he shoved out of his jeans. Adam flipped his lamp on to its lowest setting and turned down the covers. Cash’s arms came around him, pulling him against Cash’s hard body. Cash deftly unfastened Adam’s jeans. He shoved them down, along with Adam’s boxers. Adam sucked in a breath as he felt the length of Cash’s substantial erection pressed against his backside. “You’re, um, very well-endowed, Cash,” Adam said with a nervous laugh.
“Think you can handle me?” Cash asked in a husky voice that sent chills down Adam’s body.
“I’m dying to find out.” Adam opened the drawer on his nightstand and then rolled onto the bed. He’d let Cash sort through the condoms and lube since he was the one who’d be needing them. Instead of getting straight to business, Cash followed him into the bed and rolled him to his back. They kissed until Adam relaxed. Cash kissed his way down Adam’s chest and abdomen, pausing just below his navel. Cash lifted his head and said, “Don’t touch me.”
Confusing though it was, Adam nodded. He rolled his eyes shut and groaned as Cash took him in his mouth and stroked him with his tongue. It only took a moment for Adam to realize just how difficult it was going to be not to touch his lover. He wanted to grab him by the hair and thrust into his mouth. Instead, he fisted his hands in his sheets and fought for restraint.
After panting, groaning, and cursing, Adam came at last, and while he was riding the wave of euphoria following his orgasm, Cash rose to his knees and put on a condom. By the time Adam opened his eyes, Cash was entering him, slowly but insistently. Adam’s eyes rolled shut as he groaned in pleasure.
Cash lifted Adam’s hips, adjusting him before pushing all the way in. “Open your eyes,” Cash said. “I’ve never done this face-to-face. I wanna look at you.” His voice came out hoarse and strained.
Adam opened his eyes. His breath left his lungs at the sight of Cash’s wide smile. His hair hung in damp strands around his face, and the veins and tendons in his neck protruded with the effort of controlling his thrusts. Adam couldn’t help it. He reached up to touch the beautiful face above him, but when he did, Cash’s smile vanished.
Cash grabbed a handful of Adam’s hair and jerked his head back. “I said don’t touch me,” he growled.
“Fuck! Take it easy,” Adam said.
Adam lowered his hands, and Cash massaged his scalp to ease away the sharpness. “Do what I tell you and I will.” He thrust hard, making Adam cry out.
The thrusts came viciously, then, with no hint of tenderness. Cash’s eyes were glassy, his focus solely on his own pleasure, now. For Adam, there was pleasure and pain and uncertainty. There was longing and hope, coupled with fear. But Cash came, and as he came, he kissed Adam, so deeply, so intimately. He embraced him, holding him tightly against his body and thrusting with the last pulses of his orgasm.
Adam wanted to put his arms around his friend, his lover, but he feared Cash’s rejection. Cash seemed content to hold without being held in return. He buried his face in Adam’s neck, kissing and sucking at Adam’s earlobe.
Gradually the thrum of passion subsided and silence settled over the room. Cash rolled to his side, propped up on his elbow, and brushed the hair off Adam’s forehead. Adam just stared at him, unsure how to feel. Cash’s fingers continued to touch and trail along the edge of Adam’s face.
“I like the way you touch me,” Adam said.
Cash’s lips turned up in a partial smile.
“I don’t like how rough you got.”
The muscles in Cash’s jaw ticked. “I told you not to touch me.”
“That doesn’t give you the right to hurt me.”
Cash swallowed, his expression sobering. His eyes never left Adam’s. “Yeah. Okay. I’m sorry.”
“I won’t do this again with you until you’re ready to get rid of the ‘no touching’ rule.”
They stared into each other’s eyes until Cash leaned in and kissed him. He pulled Adam’s arms around him. They held each other and made out before falling asleep tangled together.
CHAPTER TEN
THE WINDOWS WERE open in the apartment so that, come Sunday morning, Rye heard the singing again. The breeze cooled his warm skin, and he sat up as his brain registered what he was hearing.
Church.
Cora would be at church.
He stared at the open window and wondered if he was losing his mind. He’d done the unprecedented and been honest with a woman, only to have her roundly reject him. He should be angry, but he couldn’t muster the energy. He was too busy feeling sad. Every once in a while, he’d close his eyes and bring up the memory of her sweet lips.
After being rejected the first time, he’d driven her back to the office, asked her out for coffee, and gotten rejected again. So the woman clearly wasn’t interested. He needed to let it go. Let her go. But surely if he could just get her to give him a chance, he’d be able to prove to her that he wasn’t a bad guy.
At least Cash had gotten lucky, or so Rye assumed since his brother hadn’t been back to the apartment all weekend.
The singing got louder. Rye frowned. The way the noise echoed off the hills, it could have just been an illusion, but it seemed to be moving closer. Rye stood and dressed. All he was doing anyway was lying in bed feeling sorry for himself. May as well go for a walk.
He left the apartment and made his way up the street, through the alley, and onto Main Street. That was as far as he got before he saw the flow of people herding down Main Street toward the river, walking and singing. There were several people dressed in white.
Rye looked for Cora among the congregation. She was walking with an older woman, possibly her mother, on the far side of the crowd.
Rye stood there w
atching the procession. He fell in at the back with the stragglers. An older man was hobbling along. “What is this?” Rye asked him.
The old man smiled. “Going down to the river to baptize some sinners.”
“Huh,” Rye grunted. He continued to follow. Cora was in a pink, flower-print sundress. Rye tried to keep eyes on her, but she kept bobbing in and out of his vision.
As the procession reached the river, folks spread out along the bank, everyone wanting to see the six, white-clad sinners get dunked. Rye searched for Cora. When he spotted her, he took a step toward her but was arrested by the sound of Pastor Steele’s booming voice. The man was standing up to his knees in the water, but his presence was no less commanding for it. In fact, he looked taller.
“We are here today to witness the death of the flesh and the resurrection of the spirit. These souls before you are dead in their sin, but with their confession of faith in Christ as their Lord and Savior, they will be buried and raised as new creatures, cleansed of their sins and alive to Christ. Come forward, children.” Pastor Steele gestured to the white-robed figures. They lined up, the first one stepping toward Pastor Steele, who was backing up into deeper waters.
The water was waist high. Pastor Steele said some words to the man. The man covered his nose and mouth. Pastor Steele put one hand over the man’s mouth, the other at the back of his neck, and dunked him. The man raised up with a sputter, a smile, and a hug for the pastor.
Rye watched in wonder as each sinner went down and came back up sporting identical smiles, the weight of their guilt lifted. How nice to be able to hand off that guilt to a higher being. As he watched and thought it over, Rye decided that that was the true appeal of a God. It relieved you of being solely responsible for your mistakes. You could just ask forgiveness and be done with it.
Rye found himself nodding along to his thoughts. It was what he wanted. A do-over. A fresh start. And to be able to let go of his mistakes when he made them.
He thought about his womanizing ways of the past three years. Thought about all the nameless fucks he’d had in the cab of his truck, all the fucks against alley walls, all the one-night fucks. He couldn’t even remember the faces of the women he’d had. Maybe that kind of lifestyle would be fine for a true playboy, but Rye actually had a heart. In fact, it was that heart, broken and aching, that he’d set out to soothe when he first started down this path. Somewhere along the way, he’d lost himself.
“Is there anyone else?” Pastor Steele called out. “Anyone who wishes to reaffirm their faith? Anyone who wishes to say goodbye to their former ways and embrace a new life of spiritual joy?”
Several men and women moved toward the water, fully clothed, and lined up to get dunked.
Their smiles were so persuasive. Maybe it would feel good, being washed in the blood. Maybe he’d feel clean, again, on the inside like he used to before Beth shredded his heart. Even before that…before the day his father broke his heart.
The old man he’d walked next to put his hand on Rye’s shoulder. “Go on,” he said, giving Rye a nudge.
That was all it took. People parted, allowing Rye a clear path to the river. There was one person being dunked as Rye approached. Pastor Steele smiled in greeting. “Welcome, brother,” he said. “Do you believe that Christ is the Son of God?”
What the hell, Rye thought. “I do.”
“Then in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, I baptize you.”
Rye plunged backward into the icy water and came up with a gasp.
“Walk in newness, son,” the preacher said.
Rye smiled. Newness. He splashed his way out of the river and came face-to-face with a fuming Cora. He’d forgotten all about her, but now he was happy to see her, in spite of the anger in her eyes. She grabbed a handful of his shirt at his chest and dragged him away. As they passed through the crowd, people reached out to touch him and welcome him to the flock. He grinned and nodded and thanked them.
Cora dragged him beyond the edge of the crowd, back toward a wooded copse. She turned and shoved him. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Gettin’ right with the Lord, boss.”
“Is this a joke to you?”
He frowned. “No…I just thought—”
“What? Are you trying to impress me or something?”
He gaped at her. “I hadn’t really thought about you—”
“Then why?”
He glanced around and back to her, unsure why she was so upset. “I’ve been thinking how I’d like to start over. Start fresh. This seemed like as good a way to do it as any. Kind of a symbol for a new beginning.” He shrugged.
Her mouth was open, her brows drawn. She clearly wasn’t buying it. It didn’t matter since he’d told her the truth, but he would have liked for her to believe him. “What exactly are you planning on changing?”
“I figure I’ll quit sleeping around, quit drinking, quit cussing. Well…maybe not the cussing. Or the drinking…but anyway, I plan on treating women better, for sure.”
She was still gaping at him.
Rye shrugged. “Believe it or don’t, boss. I meant what I said to you the other day. I ain’t who you think I am, and I want a chance with you. I figure that starts with me making some changes.”
“So you jumped in the river to get baptized.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
At last, her posture relaxed. She stood straighter, closed her mouth, and relaxed her face. “You’re a character, Rye Holcomb.”
He just shrugged, not really knowing what that was supposed to mean. “So…is church over, now, or are you all walking back up the hill?”
She wasn’t looking him in the eye, now. Her eyes seemed to bounce from his chest to her feet and back again. “It’s over. But we all gotta go back up the hill for our vehicles.”
Her cheeks were turning pink. She was biting her bottom lip. Rye looked down, realized he had on a white t-shirt, and then grinned wholeheartedly at her. “Like what you see?” he asked.
She drew herself up, lifted her chin, and opened her mouth, presumably to make a smart retort. She froze like that for a moment before laughing and turning away. “Of course I like what I see, Rye. No sense lying about it.” She started to walk away, but he reached out for her elbow.
“Why don’t you come back to my apartment. Dry me off. Warm me up. What do you say?”
Her cheeks went from pink to red. Rye couldn’t interpret the change. Maybe she was angry. Maybe she was turned on. He couldn’t tell.
“Okay,” Rye said, changing tactics, “forget I said that. Walk with me back to my apartment so I can change clothes, and then let me take you to lunch. I’ll drive you up to the church for your car, after. Sound good?”
She bit her bottom lip and frowned up at him suspiciously. Her gaze occasionally dropped to his chest and abs before quickly bouncing back up. “Okay,” she said at last. “But I’ll buy my own lunch.”
What was with her and paying? “Of course,” he said though he fully intended to pay. Whether or not it was a date, he’d invited her and to him, that meant he would pay.
“And this isn’t a date,” she said.
“Lunch on Sunday? Give me more credit than that.”
“I just don’t want to give you the wrong idea.”
“I have no ideas whatsoever.” He grinned and was deeply pleased when she slowly smiled, her dimples popping in.
He gestured for her to lead the way toward Main Street. For just a few steps, she walked ahead of him. It was by design, as he desperately wanted to watch the curve of her round hips and ass outlined by the thin fabric of her dress. He memorized the sight before falling in beside her.
Rye seemed as light as a feather. Cora only stole occasional glances his direction on the walk home, but she could feel the peace radiating off of him. For someone who claimed to want to be with her, he didn’t seem the least bit interested. Lust coursed through Cora’s veins, her mouth watering at the sight of his torso that looked li
ke it was chiseled from granite. But Rye just strolled along, whistling, and occasionally waving to a passerby. He definitely wasn’t lusting over her.
The apartments Rye and Cash lived in were in a newer complex, but they weren’t very esthetically appealing. Just practical, two-bedroom units. Rye could afford better.
“Why not get a house?” Cora asked, as he opened the door and waited for her to step inside.
“Not ready for the commitment,” he replied.
Cora looked around. It was a typical bachelor establishment. Empty beer cans on the coffee table. A couple of car magazines and a Sports Illustrated. The furniture was clearly yard sale fare.
Rye disappeared down the hall. Cora perched herself on the edge of his sofa and folded her hands in her lap. She looked around for a game console but didn’t see one. Maybe he’d learned to play elsewhere.
“All ready, boss,” Rye said, reappearing in dry jeans and a t-shirt.
Cora stood and preceded him out the door. Rye opened the truck door for her, too. They drove across town to the diner that had a twenty-four-hour breakfast menu.
Once they were seated, Rye opened his menu. Cora couldn’t keep from glancing at him. He was exquisite to look at. His body was everything a woman could want. Surely if he felt the same about her, he wouldn’t be able to focus so easily on his menu.
The waitress came. Cora ordered coffee and an omelet. Rye ordered pancakes, bacon, and eggs. Once she was gone, Rye smiled, looking like the weight of the world was gone from his shoulders. “I like the dress,” he said.
She looked down at her sundress. It wasn’t new. In fact, it was one of her oldest articles of clothing. The fabric was faded. The cut did nothing for her figure, which was already lacking enough on its own.
“It’s little more than a rag,” she said. When she looked back up, it was to find a very different expression on Rye’s face. The smile was gone. His eyes were bright with something Cora couldn’t identify. He didn’t look angry, exactly, but his jaw was tense.
“I suppose not being a man, you couldn’t understand the appeal,” he said. “But it’s a good dress. Trust me.”