Devoted

by Sierra Riley

  Maybe it would have been better if he’d professed it over a candlelit dinner or some shit like that, but that just wasn’t who he was. His realizations had come on the heels of a near-breakdown, apparently, when he and Jake had been facing odds that, just a couple of weeks ago, had seemed insurmountable.

  But he was starting to realize that, with Jake by his side, nothing was insurmountable.

  “I’ll present what you’ve said today to the agency. Blue Ridge will be in contact within the next week. I must warn you, though, that if your claims are false, I will make sure you are punished to the full extent the law allows.”

  When Walters had first shown up at their doorstep, he’d seemed nice enough. Charismatic. Agreeable. Russ realized now that it was an act, and he’d never wanted to throw someone out of his house as much as he did Walters.

  “If you had proof, we’d already be handcuffed,” he said.

  Walters didn’t respond to that, of course. He snapped his briefcase shut, dipped his head to them both, and saw himself out after wishing them an all-too-false “good day.”

  When the front door closed, Jake was still just staring at him.

  “What?”

  He was allowed to be deliberately obtuse sometimes. It was part of his charm.

  “I…”

  Jake was quiet; he always had been. But Russ had never really seen him at a loss for words. Was this really so unexpected? Jake had to know how he felt, right? After everything they’d shared, Russ didn’t really think there was any possibility for doubt.

  “What you said back there… That was… really convincing.”

  Apparently not. Jake trod so cautiously that it was clear he wasn’t at all certain about the sincerity of Russ’s words.

  Time to change that.

  “It was the truth.”

  He heard Jake suck in a breath, saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “Russ, I don’t…”

  “Hey.” His hands came up to rest on either side of Jake’s face, his thumbs tracing the definition of his cheekbones. “I love you. I’m just sorry it took this long for me to realize it.”

  He didn’t regret the choices he’d made in the past. He wouldn’t have Ryan without them. But he still had to wonder what would have happened if he’d given into his feelings all those years ago.

  Jake’s mouth worked, his beautiful lips moving in a tantalizing rhythm, but no sound came from him.

  “This is the part where you say you love me, too, and then we celebrate on this table until Ryan gets home,” he teased.

  Jake laughed at that, the sound filled with relief. Russ smiled, his fingers stroking over Jake’s skin. He’d always enjoyed his laugh, but to hear it laden with such emotion was something else entirely.

  Jake returned his smile, and Russ couldn’t wait anymore. He closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to Jake’s in a tender kiss. It wasn’t anywhere near as frantic as their previous kisses had been, but it still had his heart hammering away in his chest.

  When the kiss broke, Jake cupped Russ’s face in his hands, too. “I do, though. I love you, Russ. I’ve always loved you.”

  On some level, Russ knew that. Even if Lynn hadn’t told him as much—even if he hadn’t identified it as love—he’d felt it in everything Jake did for him. Every ounce of devotion he gave without ever asking for anything in return. But hearing him say it now was that much sweeter; it solidified the bond between them, tying them even tighter together.

  The next kiss was more thorough, Russ’s lips melding to Jake’s. He tasted him, and reveled in the soft little moan he managed to earn when he touched his tongue to Jake’s.

  “I was serious about the table thing,” he said, his voice pitched into a low rumble. “Ryan doesn’t get home ’till three.”

  Jake glanced up toward the clock, letting out a breathy laugh. “Not on the table, though. I don’t want my ass anywhere near where Walters was.”

  Russ grinned. “Good point.”

  He tugged Jake up with him, and they managed to stumble toward the stairs, stopping there in a tangle of limbs. He pulled Jake’s shirt free from his pants and discarded it before they made their way up the stairs, a few at a time. Russ couldn’t seem to stop kissing him or touching him, his hands running up and down Jake’s bare chest.

  They made it to the landing, and Russ’s shirt was discarded somewhere along the way. Jake was the one to finally pull him toward the bedroom, but Russ stopped, breathless just before they entered.

  “Hold on. We have to do this right.”

  Hooking one arm behind Jake, he bent and got his other arm underneath him, lifting him up in the air. Jake let out a surprised laugh and twined his arms around Russ’s neck. It wasn’t the easiest thing Russ had ever done, but he was going to carry his husband over one threshold, damn it.

  Halfway into the room, Jake started nipping at his lips, completely destroying his concentration. They fell onto the bed, and Russ rested atop Jake, pulling soft, needy moans and whimpers from him with his lips, tongue, and hands. Jake’s pants and underwear didn’t last long, and Russ eagerly took the chance to show him everything he’d learned over the last couple of weeks.

  He took Jake’s dick in hand with a firm grip, working him in slow, confident strokes. His tongue traced a hot, wet path down Jake’s body, and he kissed the soft, sensitive flesh of his thighs. He’d learned to build up to this; learned that as much as Jake squirmed and begged, he got off on the teasing.

  And Russ was a pretty good tease, when he wanted to be.

  By the time he finally took Jake’s cock into his mouth, he was lifting his hips up off of the bed, his hands fisting in the sheets. Russ didn’t worry about taking him all the way anymore. Instead, he paid special mind to the sensitive spots, giving special attention to the head and using his hand to work the shaft at the same time.

  He’d learned, too, that Jake really liked having his balls played with, and Russ pressed the flat of his tongue between them, traced along the seam, and then drew them into his mouth, one after the other.

  By that point, Jake pulled him back up, then pushed him back into the bed, yanking his pants and boxers off. Every time Jake touched him, he felt like he was going to come undone. And feeling the wet heat of Jake’s mouth enveloping him was the sweetest torture. He loved just giving himself over, letting Jake draw an endless string of moans from him as tension coiled tighter and tighter in his body.

  But realistically, there was only so much he could stand, and though they’d gotten each other off this way before, Russ wanted more.

  In fact, as he reached for the condoms, he realized this time he wanted something he’d never experienced before.

  His hand went to Jake’s wrist, stopping him from his normal preparations. He didn’t really know how to ask for what he wanted, but this was Jake. He knew he wouldn’t be judged for his desires.

  “I want you to fuck me,” he said, cutting straight to the point.

  Jake let out a shaky breath, his gaze meeting Russ’s. Pure desire burned in those blue eyes, and Russ felt that deep ache for him that he didn’t think was ever going to go away.

  “Are you sure?”

  He nodded, handing over the condom packet and taking the lube from Jake.

  “Let me help with that,” Jake said, and reached around behind Russ.

  They were both on their knees on the bed, and Jake sought out his lips, entangling him in a hungry kiss. Jake caressed him, his fingers skimming over his cheeks, before he slowly started to tease his hole. He used one finger first, getting Russ used to the idea. With the lube and his own excitement, it went in without much trouble, and Jake eventually added a second finger.

  At first, he mostly felt the pressure of it. An odd sensation that didn’t register as pleasure or pain. But then Jake crooked his fingers and stroked inside of him, and he found himself crying out, clutching Jake’s shoulders just to stay upright. Fuck, that felt amazing. And the way Jake watched it as he did it so expertly
—like he couldn’t get enough of Russ’s reaction—made the sensation that much stronger, pleasure lighting up every nerve in his body.

  When he couldn’t take it anymore, he all but begged Jake to fuck him.

  Jake took his time, making sure he was ready, giving him inch after inch and letting him adjust to every motion. It took him a few minutes to take Jake completely, but once they were skin to skin, with Jake staring down at him, Russ was lost. That feeling of fullness was something he’d never experienced before; something he never imagined could feel as insanely good as it did.

  And when Jake started to move, it was that much better.

  Russ clutched at him, moaning with every thrust. Jake settled into a slow rhythm, building it over time. But when their eyes met, it was just too much. He’d never put much stock in the idea that two people could ever become one, but in that moment, he felt so connected to Jake that he when the last of that tension finally broke, he felt it in every cell of his body, his heart swelling with it, his release as emotional as it was physical.

  When Jake joined him shortly after, he was sure he’d felt the same thing.

  They lay tangled together afterward, hearts beating in time, breaths labored with the intensity of what they’d just shared. Jake was a welcome weight against him, and Russ held him close, committing every detail of the moment to memory.

  So much was still in flux. The insurance agency could deny their claim. His parents could cause trouble for their family. The wolves could be at his door any moment, calling in the many debts Russ still owed.

  But wrapped up with Jake, he felt untouchable. Safe. Loved.

  Happy.

  Jake gave him that. All of it. If he somehow hadn’t realized it before, it would have been unavoidably clear now.

  “I love you,” he whispered, brushing Jake’s hair back from his sweat-slicked forehead.

  Never had three simple words meant so much to him.

  29

  Jake

  Russ’s parents waited a full day to call.

  Jake, Russ, and Ryan had been sitting on the couch, watching TV when the phone rang. Russ had almost ignored it after seeing who it was, but Jake encouraged him to have that conversation sooner rather than later. He’d only spent a few brief dinners with Russ’s parents during their college years, but they seemed like the type to just show up at his door if he didn’t answer his phone.

  Sitting close to Russ, he’d been able to hear part of his mother’s tirade, though, and he’d instantly felt guilty over making Russ talk to her. He didn’t catch all of the conversation, especially once Russ got up and took the phone into the kitchen, but it seemed painfully one-sided.

  Russ came back into the living room looking a bit dazed. After a few moments, he oh-so-casually announced that his parents would be by the house tomorrow.

  Ryan was excited, but he was the only one. The entire time, Jake just kept thinking about the fact that Russ’s parents seemed to barely tolerate him back and college, and that was when they were friends, not… married. He could only imagine the sort of cutting double-speak he’d be subjected to tomorrow.

  But he tried to make things as painless as possible. He put a roast together in the crockpot, and he and Russ tidied up the house. They still hadn’t managed to do anything about the mismatched furniture, but there was no helping that.

  * * *

  By the time Mr. and Mrs. Callaghan arrived the next day, their home looked less like a bachelor pad and more like a livable family space, but Jake imagined they would still take issue with it. He couldn’t do much about that. He could only be a gracious host and try to treat them better than they treated him.

  “They’re here!” Ryan called from the living room.

  Jake couldn’t help but smile. Ryan loved his grandparents, and it seemed that, despite their issues with Russ, they’d always loved him.

  Popping some bread into the oven, Jake padded into the living room, taking a look out the window with Ryan. The black Rolls Royce that was now parked in their driveway stood out like a sore thumb against the backdrop of brightly-colored economy cars that were so prominently featured in the neighborhood.

  The Callaghans, too, seemed completely out of place. Edward wore a custom-tailored suit, complete with bow tie. Margaret wore a dress that looked like it came straight out of the TV show Dallas. When the porch light flicked on, it sparkled, and Jake had to stifle a laugh.

  God, it was going to be a long night.

  “Why don’t you go open the door for your grandma and grandpa,” Jake said.

  Ryan ran to do so, and Jake stopped by the stairs, calling up to Russ. His friend—his husband—came down looking completely disoriented. Jake could smell a hint of aftershave when he approached.

  “You think they’ll buy it if you say I came down with the flu or something?”

  Jake smiled at him. “Probably not.”

  He rubbed Russ’s arm, then took it and led him to the door before he could change his mind. He heard Mr. Callaghan’s deep, booming voice as he greeted Ryan, and the vibe he got from them seemed oddly calm and content. That was, of course, before Mrs. Callaghan lifted her head and took in the sight of her son arm-in-arm with his new husband.

  Russ tensed beside him, seeming to sense the storm that was about to be unleashed.

  “Why don’t you go get washed up for dinner, bud?”

  After a moment of hesitation, Ryan did so. Russ’s parents had the grace to wait until they heard his footsteps retreat upstairs, but as soon as Ryan was out of earshot, the dam broke.

  “I can’t believe you boys,” Margaret said, her voice gaining a shrill edge that hadn’t been there before.

  “Is this your idea of a joke?” And this was where it started. “You could have come to us if you needed money, instead of pulling some stunt like this.”

  Russ let go of his arm, and Jake saw his fist clench at his side. Russ had never been the type to become even remotely violent, but when he dealt with his parents, every part of him tensed up.

  “Seriously, Dad? If I’d come to you for money, you would’ve held it over my head for the rest of my life.”

  “You’re our son, Russell.”

  “Then you should be happy for me!” Russ shot back. He looked at Jake, seeming to calm a bit. Jake offered him a smile. “You know Jake. He’s a great guy.”

  “You’re a little too old to be acting out,” his mother said.

  Jake’s brow furrowed. He knew it wasn’t his place to interject; this was mostly between Russ and his folks. But even he was curious to know just what his mother was getting at with that comment. Though he suspected he had a pretty good idea.

  “What the hell does that mean?” Russ asked.

  “You’re not gay, Russell,” she said, clearly exasperated. “You have a child, for God’s sake.”

  That one hurt. The pain of it must have registered on his face, because Margaret turned to him quickly.

  “Not that there’s anything wrong with being gay, dear.”

  Right. It was good enough for the likes of him, but certainly not good enough for their son. He understood perfectly. And now he had a very good idea of why Russ only kept in contact with his parents for Ryan’s sake.

  “I’m bi, Mom. I’ve always been bi.”

  Russ spoke through gritted teeth, and Jake reached out and took his hand, unclenching Russ’s fingers and twining his own through them. Jake gave him a little squeeze to say he was here to support him, no matter what.

  But Russ’s father had a look on his face that clearly said he was not going to accept that as an answer.

  “If you’re gay, just say you’re gay.”

  Russ stared at them both, his jaw seeming so close to going completely slack before it tightened in anger.

  “And what, that would make everything okay? You’d magically accept Jake as your son-in-law if I was gay?”

  “It would be an easier pill to swallow than you lying to us,” his father said.

 
“Jesus Christ…”

  Margaret was about to make some retort when a voice rang out from the stairs.

  “Is dinner ready yet?”

  Oh, thank God. Finally something he could do, instead of just standing under the Callaghans’ scrutiny.

  “It should be. If everyone’s ready, that is.”

  Edward, Margaret, and Russ were locked in some silent battle of wills. Finally Russ looked away from them, giving Ryan a smile.

  “Dinner sounds like a great idea.” On the way to the dining room, he heard Russ mutter under his breath, “At least they won’t talk with their mouths full.”

  Jake hid his smirk, and occupied himself with getting plates ready. The roast smelled amazing, and was fork tender, to boot. At least he, Russ, and Ryan would get a good meal out of this ordeal.

  Ryan helped him bring everything to the table, and the five of them ate in cordial near-silence, with the occasional interruption to proclaim how good the dish was—a comment that came from Russ, of course—and some light discussion of Ryan’s schoolwork and what he was most enjoying this year.

  Jake had brought out a cheesecake for dessert when Margaret decided to break what had obviously been a temporary truce.

  “Marriage is sacred, you know. Not something you jump into on a lark.”

  Jake paused mid-serve. How many times had he heard the argument? Not just directed at him personally, but at every person out there who wanted to marry a partner who didn’t fit some closed-minded ideal of what a union should be. He wondered if Margaret realized how she sounded, or if she even cared.

  “Mom, can we not do this right now?”

  Russ had a plate held up to help him with the cheesecake. Jake finally transferred the piece he’d cut, trying to decide whether or not it was worth saying anything.