by A. M. Arthur
“What have you got?”
“Hmm.” Derrick shifted until he knelt between Slater’s spread legs, and he clasped both their dicks in his hands. Jacked them lightly. Seemed to debate something in his own head. The intensity in Derrick’s dark eyes made Slater’s belly squirm.
Finally, Derrick lunged for the bedside table and produced a bottle of lube. Rubbed some on both of their cocks before lowering himself, pressing their groins together. Slater groaned at the intense pressure, then hitched his left leg up to wrap around Derrick’s ass. They thrust together, Derrick doing most of the work, driving them toward release. Maintaining eye contact almost the entire time. Slater wasn’t sure what his eyes showed, but Derrick’s showed desire, intent and pure arousal.
And maybe a little bit of affection?
Slater didn’t think about it too hard. He’d woken up horny, he had a hot guy rubbing off with him, and they were both going to come very soon. “Come on, Tiger,” Slater demanded. “Get us there.”
“Working on it.” Derrick latched onto Slater’s pulse point, and Slater groaned at the intensity of that pressure on his throat. Almost more intoxicating than a kiss. He slid one hand around to dip his fingers into Derrick’s crease and rub his hole. Derrick grunted and thrust harder. Sucked harder. Slater’s release winked just beyond his reach. It had been too fucking long, and he needed to come, damn it!
“Fuck!” Derrick rutted hard as warmth splashed between them, slicking his way more, until he stilled atop Slater. Breathing hard, his big body a comforting weight against Slater’s.
Not so much against Slater’s rock-hard cock.
“Damn.” Derrick licked his pulse point again before sliding down the length of Slater’s body. He licked Slater’s dick clean before sucking him down. It only took a few seconds before Slater shouted a warning and came down Derrick’s throat. Derrick sucked him through it, not missing a single drop, and that was insanely hot. Not all the guys Slater had been with over the years liked to swallow, but Derrick definitely seemed to enjoy it. And he was good at it. The entire experience had been...way too perfect. Too right.
And kind of a little scary.
He tugged at Derrick’s shoulders until Derrick crept back up Slater’s body. Derrick pressed his forehead to Slater’s but didn’t try to kiss him. Didn’t take something Slater wasn’t yet willing to give. Derrick’s come-scented breath gusted across Slater’s lips, and Slater imagined sharing the taste. But wasn’t that for couples? Not for fake boyfriends?
Nothing about what they’d just shared was fake, though.
Derrick slid to the left so he was half draped over Slater and rested his head on Slater’s shoulder. “Any regrets?”
“None. That was hot. Felt great.”
“Same.” Derrick sat up, a bit of wariness in his eyes. “It’s just when we made our agreement, I said I wouldn’t expect sex in return for you living here.”
“I remember.” Slater was too boneless to sit up, so he squeezed Derrick’s knee. “The sex we just had was about us. Two guys with chemistry getting off. Doesn’t have to be more than that.” Slater kind of wanted it to be more, because both times he’d gotten off with Derrick had been incredibly intense—a kind of passion he’d never experienced with anyone before. A kind of passion that also terrified him to his bones.
“Right. Just sex.” Derrick grinned. “Really great sex I hope we can have again?”
“Definitely.” Slater faked a yawn so he had a moment to tamp down his hurt. No reason to feel hurt at all, since this had just been sex. Nothing else. No room for the tender feelings that had first tickled behind his breastbone at the wedding, watching Derrick interact with family. The ways Derrick doted over him and treated Slater like a proper boyfriend.
Well, duh, he has to sell it. Stop seeing more into this mess than is there.
“I think we could both use a shower,” Derrick said. “How about I pop in and rinse off, and then I’ll help you bag your cast?”
“Yeah, okay.”
“Cool.”
Derrick dashed out of the bedroom. Slater stared up at the plain ivory ceiling, annoyed at himself for allowing the magic of today’s wedding to get inside his head. To make him want and dream when the entire day had been a fantasy. Nothing more, nothing less.
No more dreaming. Only four more fantasies to deal with and then Slater could go back to his single life at Clean Slate Ranch.
Chapter Twelve
The day after the wedding, Derrick noticed a slight change in Slater that he couldn’t put his finger on. Slater wasn’t giving him the cold shoulder, or suddenly being touchy-feely now that they’d had sex again. Nothing in their established routines had changed. But he was...cooler.
Derrick chalked it up to a post-wedding hangover and let it go. Wedding number two was two weeks later and the days in between passed as normally as they had before the first wedding. They shared a bed every night and no longer hid their morning wood from each other, but that was all. Slater was the one healing, so Derrick would let him initiate sex.
They also shared breakfast and dinner every day, occasionally eating over at Morgan and Dez’s place. Slater kept improving his needlepoint game. Derrick went to work and did his job. Conrad sent him photos of Mia constantly as she grew and did more interesting things than eat, sleep and poop.
He couldn’t believe she was already almost eight weeks old.
The wedding was a three-hour drive south. Mom and Dad sent a card but couldn’t attend because Dad’s knee was acting up again, and his doctor had said to rest. Since Conrad drove an SUV, they decided to road trip as a group. The back seat was more spacious for Slater to sit in the middle and stretch his leg out. It separated Mia from Derrick, but whatever. He’d get his cuddles during the inevitable pit stop.
Slater was cheerful during the trip, and he cooed at Mia when she wasn’t sleeping. She was, of course, the star of the show at this wedding’s reception. The entire production was outdoor at the family’s house and spacious backyard, and the weather was perfect for an afternoon wedding. Slater eased right back into Boyfriend Mode, even going so far as to hold Derrick’s hand a few times when they walked somewhere. They ate and chatted and went through the motions, and Derrick had a ball.
He really, really liked Boyfriend Slater more than Roommate Slater.
I need to take him out on a real date. Romance the guy with my birthday gift cards.
Derrick watched Slater balance a small plate of appetizers as he crutched his way over to Derrick, who was lurking at the edge of the yard. Fewer people he knew well here, and he quickly got bored of the whole, “So what’s new in the last four years since I’ve seen you?” conversation. He had managed a quick chat with the groom, who was a cousin Derrick and Conrad had been tight with as kids before the uncle had relocated them for a new job. It had been good to reconnect in person, instead of just online.
Slater joined him and offered the plate. Derrick snagged some sort of shrimp skewer and ate it. This wedding was finger foods only, no big meal. Their return plan was to grab a bite someplace local before hitting the road home.
“Is it weird,” Slater said, “that I’m a little disappointed no one is freaking out about things like Steve Martin did in Father of the Bride?”
Derrick chuckled. “I love that movie, but Conrad said if I showed it to Sophie while she was still planning their wedding, he’d beat me over the head with the DVD case.”
Slater nearly choked on a bite of food. “Probably a good call. But they got through the wedding jitters eventually.” Something in Slater’s expressive blue eyes shuttered briefly. Then he shoved the plate at Derrick. “I have to take a leak, and there’s probably a line. See you in a few.”
The abrupt departure worried Derrick, because what on earth had either of them said? He got it when Slater was melancholy around Mia but what about Sophie’s wedding had
shifted his mood? Maybe it was wedding talk in general. He still didn’t know as much about Slater as he wanted to know at this point, but they were also still playing the roles of fake boyfriends. They didn’t confide in each other, so it was hard to guess what this was all about.
Slater didn’t have to piss, but it was the perfect excuse to find a quiet part of the home’s downstairs and get his thoughts together. The kitchen and den had guests but the formal living room was empty. Slater sat on a chair by a dark fireplace, closed his eyes, and breathed.
It had been a joke between brothers. Conrad beating Derrick over the head with a DVD case. A joke. But that hadn’t stopped Slater’s thoughts from flashing back to eleven years ago. The brawl that eventually sent Slater up the river for five years. The final blow to the head with a heavy piece of lumber that landed his victim in a coma for a week.
The prosecutor repeating Slater’s life mistakes over and over, that Slater had been perfectly sober and in control of his actions. The initial charge had been attempted murder, but it was eventually dropped to assault. Assault charges still carried a lot of time, though...
“Slater?” Sophie’s soft voice shocked him into looking up. She had Mia and a blanket, and her gentle smile held a tinge of concern. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I just needed a minute to myself.” Slater pulled on enough truth that he wasn’t lying to her. He genuinely liked Sophie and Conrad, and somehow the pair completely believed he and Derrick were a happy couple. “I’m not used to big crowds like this. Life on the ranch is a lot more solitary even when guests are around.”
“Makes sense. I came in to feed Mia but I can find another spot.”
“You struck me as the kind of person who would be on board with public breastfeeding.”
Sophie laughed. “I am all over it as a basic right, yes. Women should be able to feed their kids wherever they are and without covering up. I’m just not there myself yet. Maybe when she’s a little older I’ll be able to whip out a boob and let her latch.”
That made Slater chuckle. “Nina was like that with Rachel.” A chill spread through his chest as he realized what he’d let slip.
She sat on the sofa near his chair and rocked a fussing Mia. “Rachel?”
“Yeah.” He studied Mia’s scrunched, unhappy, hungry face. “My daughter.”
“Oh. Wow.” Her eyes widened. “I guess that’s why you’re so natural with Mia. I didn’t know you have a daughter.”
“Derrick knows but no one else. It’s really complicated, and I don’t get to see her much because of custody agreements.”
“How old?”
“Eighteen in July.”
“Holy shit.” Sophie glanced around because that had been sort of loud. “You don’t look old enough to have an eighteen-year-old.”
“Because I had her when I was that age. Too young and too immature. I don’t tell people about her because it just reminds me of how badly I did by her growing up. Mia is a precious gift, Sophie. Make sure you guys give her and her future siblings all the love you can.”
“We will.”
Sophie seemed close to tears, and Slater didn’t want to make the young mom cry. “You go on and feed Mia,” he said. “I’ve got to go bother my boyfriend.”
“Okay. And I’ll keep your secret, Slater. I promise.”
“Thank you.” An unfamiliar sense of loyalty and kinship washed over him, and it was the only reason Slater reached over to squeeze her shoulder. “I mean it. Thank you.”
“No problem. You make Derrick smile. I hope you and I can become better friends.”
“Same.” And he meant it, too. Sophie had a genuinely kind spirit, and in some ways, her quiet strength reminded him of Rachel. “How long is this shindig supposed to last?”
“Another hour, I think, but we can head out whenever our guys are ready.”
“Okay. See you in a bit, then.”
Slater found Derrick exactly where he’d left the man, and as he hobbled forward, he took in the delicious sight of Derrick’s form packed into those dark slacks and a white, short-sleeve top. It showed off his toned arms and waist, and Slater wondered why he’d avoided sexual contact for the last two weeks.
Don’t. Get. Attached.
Yeah, that was it. As much as Slater craved another amazing orgasm, he didn’t want to get too used to them. They wouldn’t always be available to him, and Derrick had been very clear about that after wedding number one. And part of Slater resented their arrangement down to his bones. He wasn’t a hearts-and-flowers guy but even he recognized real chemistry when he felt it. He also wasn’t the guy who went begging for attention or tail.
The magic of the wedding wove a different spell as their group excused themselves around five o’clock. Derrick volunteered to drive this time, and after finding a casual dining place for dinner, their quartet—plus precious Mia—settled into a booth with nachos and a round of drinks. The chatter was easy, if dominated by the Massey brothers, who told stories of their childhood with today’s groom that made everyone laugh. The camaraderie was so easy and real, and Slater wanted to believe in it. But by August, it would be gone. Slater would be home on the ranch with his friends.
Friends who showed up every Saturday night—except for the ones on wedding days—in various combinations, and he adored the men for their loyalty and support. It helped knowing he had a soft place to land when he inevitably left Derrick’s apartment.
And Dez. He treasured his friendship with Dez, who was probably his second-best friend after Derrick. She was loyal, fun, eclectic, funny, supportive and so many things he’d miss when he was gone. They’d stay in touch, he was sure, but it wouldn’t be the same as crafting together in the foyer. And he was getting pretty damned good at cross-stitch, even if he did toot his own horn. Latch hook, too, and he had three rugs stashed away as Christmas gifts already for his fellow horsemen. Dez had even urged him to open an online storefront and sell his bawdy wares.
Slater wasn’t so sure about anyone wanting to buy his shit, but it was a nice compliment.
He picked at the stuffed pork chop he’d ordered, not terribly hungry tonight and unsure why, while everyone else ate their fill. The only reason he asked to pack up the leftovers was because Derrick could take it for lunch on Monday. Might as well not waste the food, especially when Conrad insisted on paying.
That night, he and Derrick had sex again, much like they had two weeks ago. A lot of rubbing and nipping and frotting, until they both blew like volcanos. Slater couldn’t seem to bridge the gap into full-on fucking again, and Derrick didn’t push. Derrick seemed perfectly content with what physical affection Slater gave him, and in some ways, it made Slater feel like shit. In other ways, it put control back in Slater’s court, and he needed that to help cushion the inevitable hit when they broke up.
The first week of June sped by, and too soon, it was time for their trip north for Rachel’s graduation. His dad had room at the house, but the custody agreement meant a hotel for the night, and Slater booked a nice room for himself and Derrick in town. The ceremony was on a Tuesday evening, with a small party at the house directly after, and Derrick didn’t mind taking a few vacation days to drive Slater out that Tuesday morning.
Slater was a ball of nervous energy, and Rachel’s graduation gift was carefully tucked into their shared suitcase—why bother with two when it was a one-night stay? Being the passenger in Derrick’s car felt strange after so many years of driving north on his bike, alone, but it was also a nice feeling. He’d never really come out to his dad, stepmom or daughter, because Slater still hadn’t embraced any particular label for himself or his sexuality. He just...liked who he liked.
And right now? He really liked Derrick Massey.
Derrick didn’t push. Not for information, backstory or sex, and that lack of conflict helped Slater find a kind of inner peace he wasn’t used to feeling. This
was the best, most solid, short-term relationship of his life, and he’d enjoy it while he had it. And the fact that Derrick didn’t push for more only drove home the short-term part of their relationship.
The drive took about two hours and they made it with the windows down, enjoying the summer air, even if it was a tad hot. The wide-open spaces of the interstate were nowhere near the same as the ranch lands, but it made Slater feel less confined in the blue sedan. Then again, small spaces didn’t feel as confining as they used to as he put more and more time between himself and prison.
As he learned from and healed from his mistakes. And as he tried very, very hard not to fall for Derrick Massey and all his charm.
About ten miles from their exit, Derrick said, “So it’s probably way too late to ask, but are we still playing up the whole fake relationship while we’re here?”
Slater blinked at him, surprised by the left-field question. “Why wouldn’t we?”
“Well, when you first asked me to come it was just to give you a ride, not actually go to the ceremony and party. I wasn’t sure how you wanted me to play this.”
It hadn’t occurred to Slater to drop the fake relationship thing around his family, because it had become...real-ish. He’d feel strange about referring to Derrick as just a friend or roommate when to the rest of the world they were “boyfriends.” He also liked the idea of showing up with someone as incredible as Derrick on his arm. “Play it as boyfriends,” Slater finally replied. “Is that okay?”
Derrick winked, then reached across the seat to squeeze his knee. “Definitely okay.”
Slater covered that hand with his own and held on, enjoying the physical contact. He gave Derrick directions once they exited the interstate, and a familiar town rolled by. Not much had changed in the few months since his last visit, other than the weather. He pointed out a few local landmarks but it was really just another sprawling suburb of Sacramento and not all that interesting.