To Say I Love You

by Anna Martin

  I’d been thrown in the deep end with that side of my job when previously I had always been more focused on collections and exhibitions. It was a maternity-cover situation—it was always maternity cover in my job; they never managed to hire someone to take over—and we had a series of lectures and demonstrations pre-booked that were due to bring a lot of money into the museum. Since I’d worked on the exhibition, the chance to tell people about it naturally fell to me, rather than one of my colleagues.

  It had snowballed from there, and I’d taken some classes to help me pitch my talks to people of different ages. We got school kids a lot, all museums did, but the head curator wanted to reach out to different people in the community, and we actually got a lot of senior citizens coming in to learn new things.

  My boss was a great woman who’d let me expand on my teaching skills and explore where it could take me in terms of my career. It wasn’t a physically difficult job, even if I was running around a lot more instead of working behind my desk. Someone once said hard work was good for the soul, and I was starting to believe them.

  The time passed quickly as I danced along to the radio and cleared out the bedroom and plastered over the holes in the walls in a little under two days. It was fun to have a job to concentrate on, especially when I was working with my dad.

  He was a man of few words at the best of times. We didn’t have the sort of relationship where I’d call him up just to shoot the breeze. Even telling him about my change in job meant taking a trip down here to see him in person. His attitude to fixing up a house for me to live in with my partner was just as nonchalant as it had been to my coming out.

  When Dad offered to take me somewhere to get dinner, it was easy to agree. We stopped back at the house first to shower and change, and I called Jennifer to make sure she didn’t want to come. She’d been dating a nice guy for a few months, and he’d been supportive and just plain nice when Mama passed. I knew Dad liked him and didn’t mind that she stayed at his place with Baby some nights.

  “Where do you want to go?” Dad asked as we got back into his truck.

  “I really don’t mind. Have you got anywhere in mind?”

  He shrugged and grunted. “There’s a good Chinese place that opened up recently. They do takeout, but it’s nice inside too.”

  “That works for me.”

  BY THE time we got home, it was getting late and I didn’t much feel like socializing. Missing Will never got easier, even when I was used to him being away. My bed was too big for one, and I didn’t like sleeping in it alone.

  When I got into bed, I pulled up my laptop to browse for furniture. I wanted a bed, first of all, and I’d pick the rest of the things for our room around that. All I could do was bookmark a few ideas, not knowing if Will wanted me to go all out or just make it a space we could live in comfortably for however long we stayed in the area.

  Even though it was still early, I turned my lamp off and snuggled under the blankets. A few moments later, I turned my old stereo on. For some reason, when I was sleeping alone it was comforting.

  “YO, BITCHES,” Will said as he answered the phone.

  “Don’t try and be gangsta. You only embarrass us both.”

  “Sorry.” He cleared his throat. “Good morning, this is William Anderson speaking, how may I help you?”

  “Much better. Are you wearing a suit?”

  “No, I’m just getting dressed. You interrupted me.”

  “Have you got time to video chat?” I asked, rolling over in bed to the cool side of the sheets.

  “No,” he said, laughing. “Some of us have work to do.”

  “Others have real work to do, not a cushy desk job,” I retorted.

  “All right, all right. Did you want anything?”

  I yawned loudly. “Yeah. Mm. Do you want me to go ahead and order furniture for the house? Or do you want to get home and help me pick?”

  “You can get it,” he said, and I could hear him moving around the hotel room. “Get a bed with an iron frame, though. Or something that’s sturdy enough to tie you to.”

  “Jesus, Will.”

  “What? Don’t get all shy on me now. You know I’m gonna do it.”

  I squirmed on the bed, suddenly aroused. I itched to take hold of my cock, to pull hard a few times until I was groaning his name and spilling into my palm.

  “Jesse? You’ve gone awful quiet.”

  “I’m gonna get that bed today.”

  Will’s laugh was like a warm balm over the ache of missing him. “I need to get going. I’ll see you soon though, yeah?”

  “Okay. Have a good day.”

  “You too.”

  I stayed in bed a few minutes longer, stretching my muscles out slowly and taking stock of my body. I was feeling good, in a good shape—the running was helping with that. That and the physical labor involved in getting the house together.

  I borrowed my dad’s truck and drove into the city, where there were a few more furniture stores than in the area where my dad lived. Picking things out—or making a decision about anything, really—wasn’t my best skill. As I wandered, I thought I’d maybe buy a huge bed, something we could practically swim in. There were a few of those around.

  I thought about how close we slept to each other. It didn’t matter if we were sharing a queen- or king-sized bed, I’d still end up wrapped around him, or he around me.

  I brushed off offers of help, thinking I could find this one, important thing by myself. There wasn’t a “hallelujah” moment of discovery. More like the longer I stood in front of a frame that had caught my eye, the more I liked it.

  It was simple, solid, a wooden frame with an elegant post at each corner. The posts came up to just above waist height. I imagined myself lying on the bed spread-eagled; Will would be able to tie me to each post with little difficulty.

  “You like this one, sir?” a salesgirl asked, apparently unwilling to let me browse in peace. She was the third person to approach me since I’d walked in.

  I nodded and cocked my head to the side. “Yeah. I think so. Do you have a delivery service?”

  “Yes. We’ve got free delivery all this weekend too, if you’re willing to put an order in now.”

  “Is it in stock?”

  She gave me something of a predatory grin. “It is, yes.”

  “Excellent.”

  I wondered how much she was going to get in commission as I was led away to sign the paperwork and hand over Will’s credit card. My name was on it too, so technically it was also my card, but he paid the bill at the end of the month.

  Feeling rather satisfied, I stopped by the hardware store to pick up paint before swinging by a Starbucks, lamenting that the coffee here wasn’t as good as back home, and heading back to the house. I had work to do to get it ready for when Will got home.

  “THIS IS amazing,” he said as he walked through the house to the kitchen at the back. “Really, Jesse. I can’t believe how much you’ve done in such a short amount of time.”

  “I’ve had help.”

  “Still.”

  “Come see the bedroom.”

  I’d worked like a madman to get the few pieces I’d bought in place for when he got home. We had stripped the walls and painted them, cleaned up as much as possible, and set the bed in the middle of the room. We didn’t have curtains yet. That was my plan for the following week—curtains and floors. For now, I’d stripped out the disgusting old carpet, revealing the surprisingly nice, original floorboards underneath. It would take some scrubbing and sanding, but after the dirty work was done I was convinced it would look good.

  “You’ve got your priorities sorted, that’s for sure,” he said, teasing me, and tossed his duffel on the floor at the end of the bed. “It looks great in here. I love the color.”

  “Really? I wasn’t sure.”

  “Really.”

  I’d chosen a paint called “Parchment,” a sort of old-looking off-white to go with the navy-blue bed linens. It was simple and
classic, the style I knew Will liked. It reflected our home back in Seattle—not a match, but almost.

  “Are we staying here tonight?” Will asked as he reached for my wrist.

  “If you want to. Yeah.”

  “I want to.”

  I let myself be drawn into his arms, not for anything sexual but to be held close for a moment. By the way he pressed his cheek to my head, I thought he wanted the same thing I did.

  Not wanting to talk to anyone, I fired off a quick text to Jennifer to let her know we wouldn’t be coming home for the night and I’d stop by the next day at some point. Will had already offered to help with some of the decorating over the weekend, and we were going to drive into the city to look in some of the bigger furniture stores.

  The house didn’t have a TV yet, or anything other than an ancient stove to cook on, or any furniture other than the bed. That pretty much dictated we were going out for dinner and staying somewhere late enough that when we got home, we could go straight to bed. I saw spending money in our future. Spending a lot of money.

  Since Will had the car, we could go to the next town over where no one knew either of us and I could hide from the well-wishers who wanted to offer their condolences. I was hiding. It took the incredibly strong man standing next to me to assure me that was okay.

  We found an Italian restaurant and bought a bottle of wine, sharing a glass each, then stoppering the rest to take home. The restaurant was small, with only a dozen or so tables and a warm, spicy, garlicky smell in the air that made me hungry the moment we walked in. It all blended together—the food, the wine, sitting opposite Will and being able to look at him as much as I wanted.

  By the time we got home, all I wanted was him. He followed me around as I locked up, his hands on my waist under my shirt, ready to strip it off. Will made me feel like a virgin cheerleader with the captain of the football team—I worshiped him, and I wanted him more than I’d ever allow myself to admit.

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?” he asked, pushing the bar through my nipple back and forth.

  “Everything.”

  “You forget, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. So really, there’s nothing to thank me for.”

  I had to laugh at that, even though my eyes were filled with stars and him. I grabbed hold of his hips and pulled him onto the bed, on top of me, and then my lips were on his and nothing else mattered.

  Clothes were discarded all over the room as we kissed, slow and easy in contrast to the sharp movements of our fingernails on each other’s skin. I wanted him inside me again, that easy reconnection and confirmation of our relationship. Nothing told me I was his quite like this.

  “Too long,” he murmured as his mouth traveled over my chest, kissing and licking and biting softly, teasing me and making me curl my fingers into his sides. “It’s been way too long.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not something you have to apologize for, Jesse,” he said, hauling himself up on his arms so his body covered mine completely.

  “I know,” I repeated.

  “Where,” Will asked as he kissed down my chest, “might I find some lube?”

  I laughed breathlessly as he started to tease my cock. “Shit. Um…. Will, I can’t think when you’re doing that.”

  “Sorry.”

  He didn’t move his hands, though, and raised his eyebrow in a question.

  “Bathroom. Bathroom!” I gasped as he started to massage and squeeze my balls, a bit tighter than what was comfortable.

  “Mm. Be right back.”

  He rolled elegantly off the bed, and I admired the view of his ass disappearing round the corner. For a guy who was a confirmed top until he met me, he really did have a deliciously tight rear end. It was almost a shame I’d never let anyone else get near it.

  When he came back, Will had the tube of lubricant in his hand and an already shiny cock. I pushed any disappointment that I wasn’t going to get to suck it this time out of my head and found my legs spreading unconsciously, without me telling them to do it.

  Will was smirking as he settled down next to me, pushing his slick fingers against my hole without preamble, while he cupped my jaw and turned my head to meet his kisses.

  “Ready,” I told him breathlessly. “I’m ready.”

  I’d been ready for hours. Weeks. It was one thing I’d never felt ashamed of—wanting him was an extension of loving him. Sex was a way of being incredibly close to each other. He didn’t stop kissing me as he moved between my legs and I wrapped them around his waist, opening myself for him.

  “Love you, Jess,” he whispered as he pushed inside me, his cock stretching and twisting and hurting just a little bit. I curled my arms around his back, clinging to him, urging him on, lifting my body to meet his.

  I couldn’t quite find my voice to tell him I loved him too. He knew that, though, and my lips managed to give him the message with a slow, careful kiss rather than words. He understood.

  “Missed you,” he said. His nose traced the path from my collarbone to earlobe. “I missed being with you like this.”

  “Me too. Not again.”

  “No. I’m keeping you close now.”

  And I was. Close, that was. Our chests were pressed close together, making it almost impossible for me to get a hand on my cock. Any pleasure I wanted needed to come from the movement of Will inside me, and fuck, did he know how to make that feel good.

  The months apart seemed to melt away as we rocked together, Will instinctively knowing how to turn me on. I tightened my hands around his arms and lifted into his thrusts, taking everything he offered. And I didn’t seem to be able to keep my lips from his. Those kisses were all I needed—that, and him, and the orgasm that threatened as I whimpered into his mouth.

  “Give it up, Jess,” he told me, pressing his forehead to mine.

  I didn’t need to be told twice. Everything felt overwhelmingly intense, the time we’d spent apart only intensifying the sensations. Coming with him inside me… crying out into the curve of his shoulder, him trembling inside me… not exactly something we hadn’t done before, but it wiped me out.

  Him too, if his inelegant crash on top of me was anything to go by. I huffed, laughed, and wrapped my arms more securely around him as he carefully pulled his cock from my ass. Then I licked his ear, because it was gross and I wanted a reaction.

  Chapter 5

  “YOU’RE DISGUSTING,” Will grouched, poking me in retaliation. I squirmed away and distracted him with kisses until it was safe to settle back in his arms. He sighed heavily, and I reached for a hand towel, quickly wiping us both down.

  For a while, we lay together in bed. This was a luxury. At home, we didn’t often have time to be naked and lazy, not when there were chores to do and jobs to worry about.

  Will reached for my hand and tangled our fingers together. I squeezed back, letting him know the contact was appreciated, then shuffled to lay my head on his chest.

  “You okay, baby?” he murmured softly.

  “Yeah.” I sighed deeply, gathering the scent of him into my lungs.

  “Is this better? Being in our own place, I mean. If you don’t like it, we can always go back to your dad’s. I don’t mind.”

  “It’s good. We can’t do this at dad’s house, and I think we need it.”

  “I think so too. I just don’t want to take you away from your family, if that’s where you want to be.” Will ran his hand down my spine. It was still sticky with sweat—for all of Will’s bitching about air-con, I hadn’t turned it on, and it was fairly warm in the house.

  “We’re close, here, without living on top of each other. I don’t want to leave yet but we all need some space.”

  “There’s no need for us to go anywhere at all.”

  I recognized that voice, the half on a yawn that told me he was all fucked out and sleepy. I hadn’t brushed my teeth or locked the front door or turned the lights off in the hall, and I couldn’t find the e
nergy to care. I found the sheets with my feet and kicked them up over our legs, kissed Will’s cheek, and let go.

  OF COURSE, that meant I didn’t sleep very well and was awake in the night to do all of the puttering around I didn’t do before we went to bed. I wasn’t sure if Will ever woke up when I did my late-night wanderings. I would be surprised if it didn’t disturb him; it wasn’t something I did at home.

  The rules of everything had changed since we’d gotten on the plane here, I mused while collecting bits of sandpaper from the living room and stacking them neatly in order of roughness. I didn’t have any thick socks or house slippers here, so padding around in the dark, barefoot and wearing boxers, was a fairly risky activity.

  I was careful not to let the screen door slam behind me when I walked outside, not wanting to wake or alarm Will. The grass was deliciously cool beneath my feet, even if it was dry and scrubby rather than richly wet. The moon hung huge and low in the sky, meaning that even without any streetlights, I could see all the way to the end of our street.

  It was eerily silent at this time in the morning, with not even a restless dog or the chirping of cicadas for company.

  The night was one for feeling terribly alone in the world, like there was no one who could understand the sharp edges of my grief, the heavy weight of responsibility toward a younger sister and completely lost father. I didn’t want to be angry at Mama—she’d lived her life on her own terms and left it on the same. It was what all of us would ask for, given the choice.

  The thing was, however much I wanted to feel sorry for myself, I couldn’t quite manage it. I couldn’t curl up in a ball and sob and think poor me, poor, poor me. Because there was a man inside who was my backbone, straightening me up and keeping me moving when all I wanted to do was crumple. Not everyone found someone in life who balanced them as perfectly as Will balanced me.

  Feeling stupid, I went back inside and locked the door behind me. If outside was still, there was life in here. Will was snoring, only softly but loud enough in the quiet house to be heard from the hallway. In the kitchen, I poured two glasses of water, added ice before taking them through to the bedroom.