DanielsSurrender

by Sierra

  “I need to grab some water.” Daniel knew Shannon was giving him a moment alone with Matt, and he didn’t know whether to be grateful or angry.

  Matt reached his hand out an inch, begging with his eyes for Daniel’s touch. Daniel looked to the door to make sure they were alone, and then clasped the younger man’s hand.

  Matt’s skin was so cold. He tried to talk, but Daniel cut him off.

  “Don’t, Matty. You need to rest.” Leaning in, Daniel lifted Matt’s hand to the level of his heart, all the while trying to deny it was where both Matt and Shannon already lived. His forehead hit their entwined hands and his chest constricted.

  God, what was happening to him? He let his eyes devour Matt’s pale, pain-marked face as his lover’s eyes drifted shut.

  You weak, pathetic man… Look at you, ready to get all weepy!

  Daniel shook off the image of his dad, drunk at the kitchen table.

  This was too much. His body was throwing adrenaline all over the place. His heart hammered as he desperately tried to regain control of himself. They could have lost Matthew tonight. He could have lost Matthew tonight. He knew that a part of him would have died along with him.

  Fuck me!

  Why hadn’t he called this thing off weeks ago? If he had, they wouldn’t have taken Shannon to The Whitney and Matt wouldn’t be lying on this bed, wrapped in wires and tubes.

  This was all his fault. He’d allowed himself to love the feeling of being with them both. Their taste, their smell, permeated most of his thoughts. The need to see them, hold them, take them had become paramount. And to what end? He was sitting here ready to pray to a God he hadn’t spoken to in almost twenty years, ready to beg for Matt’s health, for his life.

  A shoe on the tile floor caught Daniel’s attention. Marcus stood just inside the room, his arms crossed as his gaze flashed from Matt to Daniel and then to their clasped hands.

  Daniel carefully placed Matt’s hand back on the sheet. He stood up, unable to meet Marcus’ knowing stare.

  “Tell Shannon I’m in the waiting room.”

  “And what should I tell Matthew?”

  Daniel left without answering.

  Chapter Twenty

  Marcus sat in the chair vacated by his best friend. Memories of the last few weeks, stolen glances, brief, intimate touches, suddenly made sense. He’d read the whole situation wrong. Dan and Matt weren’t just sharing Shannon, they were sharing each other.

  “Daniel?” Matt’s eyes slitted open.

  “No, Matty. It’s me. Dan went to the waiting room.”

  Matt, still groggy, let his eyes drift closed again.

  “I need him, Marc. I need him and Shannon both.”

  “Don’t worry, little brother. I’ll make sure both of them are here for you.” Even if he had to drag Daniel in here kicking and screaming. Fuck. How could he have been so blind?

  A giant light bulb had gone off when he stepped into the room. Discovering Daniel holding Matt’s hand in his had taken Marc’s breath away. His arrogant friend had been hunched over, his face lacking its normal, distant expression. For the first time in their friendship, Marcus had seen Daniel devastated. It was disconcerting, Daniel’s vulnerability laid out for whoever walked in the room to see. He’d been so absorbed in his own thoughts that he hadn’t even noticed Marcus’ entrance.

  He wouldn’t say anything just yet, Marcus decided. Watching the situation would be better at this point. Matt and his recovery were all that mattered right now.

  * * * * *

  Matthew kept swimming in and out of consciousness. He repeatedly thanked God for nurses who were on their game, doling out pain medication at regular intervals. Shannon’s presence next to him, her soft hand on his cheek, comforted him even more than the drugs.

  The only thing that would have made things better was Daniel.

  Matt understood the other man’s retreat. Especially as it seemed that Marcus had seen more than either of them would have liked. Still, Matthew thought, he and Shannon needed Daniel’s steadying presence. And, if he weren’t mistaken, Daniel needed them too.

  Feeling a prickling sensation, Matt dragged his weary eyes to the door. Daniel stood there, and Matt felt such a rush of relief he got lightheaded. Or maybe that was the morphine. Struggling to come the rest of the way awake, he croaked out, “Hey, man. Getchur ass over here.”

  Shannon’s head snapped up from where it had been resting on the bed next to him, and she sent a tired, glowing smile in Daniel’s direction. Daniel smiled back, but it wasn’t the warm, naughty smile they’d become used to. No, this was his old smile. The detached, cool smile he gave his lovers before he sent them on their way.

  Suddenly, the morphine wasn’t enough to dull Matthew’s pain.

  Then he looked deeper into Daniel’s turbulent eyes. For all his cool expression, it was clear that the man was in agony.

  “Sorry, bud. My ass has to get home. Marcus and the Ice Princess’ll be here all day tomorrow, and Shannon will be too, so now that I know you’re going to be okay, I need to go into work in the morning. Someone has to hold down the fort for you slackers.” His voice was studiedly light, unemotional. Matt wasn’t buying it for a second.

  Neither, apparently, was Shannon.

  “Don’t be an idiot.” Her voice was tart, though her eyes were compassionate. “We need you here, now and tomorrow.” She rose, heading toward him. “And you need to be here.” There was no doubt in her voice. No compromise.

  To Matthew’s considerable shock, Daniel backed away from their pint-sized angel, avoiding her eyes and any physical contact.

  Almost as if he were afraid that if she got too close, he might give in.

  Sending a jaunty smile that didn’t reach his eyes, Daniel sketched a quick salute and backed away from the door. Matt noticed that his usually smooth, sinuous movements were stilted.

  “I gotta go, man. I’ll check in. Shannon’ll keep me updated, but I’ve gotta go.”

  Without entering the room, without touching either of them, Daniel fled.

  “You need to go after him.” Matthew’s voice was faint, but firm.

  “Baby, I’m not leaving you,” Shannon protested. “God, I almost lost you tonight. I’m not letting you out of my sight.” She grasped his hand, holding it to her cheek. “Matt, I don’t think either of us could have survived if you hadn’t.”

  “You’re stuck with me, Shan.” He curled weak fingers around her cheek. “I love you, and I’m not going to let a little thing like a catastrophic car accident take you away from me. Or me away from you.” He managed a brief smile, but his energy was fading fast.

  “But I’m afraid that if you don’t go after him now, Daniel is the one who might be lost.” He sighed and pulled his hand away. “You can come back tomorrow. Tonight, he needs you more than I do.”

  * * * * *

  The house was dark when Shannon quietly let herself in. She stood against the door for a moment, eyes closed, drinking in the silence. After the chaos of the hospital, the peace was like a balm on her nerves. Opening her eyes, she paused to let them adjust to the dim room. Finally she made out Daniel in silhouette.

  He sat on the couch, elbows planted on spread knees, his head in his hands. He looked so alone and defeated that all of her protective instincts rushed to the surface. But her man was skittish, so Shannon approached him cautiously.

  She dropped to her knees at his feet and slowly wriggled her way between his legs to rest against his body. He was strung as tight as a bow, and seemed to vibrate in her arms when she wrapped them around him.

  At first she just held him fiercely, but then suddenly his arms, which had remained limp at his sides, wrapped brutally tight around her, crushing her to his chest. His body shook, but there was not a sound, no tears. Only his arms, steel bands around her back. His breath, gusting against her neck. His heart, thundering under her cheek.

  He didn’t cry, so she cried for him. She couldn’t help it. The joy and anticipation
of the evening, the sudden fear for Matthew, and now Daniel’s silent pain were all like acid on her overstretched nerves. The tears were a tincture, meant to wash the pain away.

  It was far too soon when Daniel loosened his arms and sat back. He regarded her as she knelt with her hands resting on his thighs. His gaze was intent, probing, but wouldn’t hold hers for more than a second at a time before flickering away.

  “You should be with Matthew,” he rasped.

  When she would have moved back into his arms, he guided her instead to the couch next to him.

  “Marcus and Meredith are staying with him all night. They don’t need to share their half-hour visits with me.” She shrugged. “I’ll be there all day tomorrow, anyway.” She shifted to face him, the skirt of her silky teal dress riding up on her thighs, a reminder of the celebration that wasn’t.

  “Besides,” she added into his silence, “tonight we went through hell together.” She blinked as tears threatened yet again. “Daniel, you were the only thing that kept me sane for all those hours while we waited for news.” He looked away, directing his gaze back to the floor between his spread feet. “I needed you tonight,” she persisted, “and you were there for me.” Placing a hand along his sandpapery jaw, she forced him to meet her eyes.

  “I still need you.”

  His eyes flared, glowing sapphire. She couldn’t tell if it was tears, or desire, but the glow seemed to burn straight to her heart.

  “And tonight, I think you need me, too.” She didn’t give him a chance to respond, to deny. “And God, Daniel, I need to be here for you.” She moved closer when he would have pulled away. “Just this once, let me be here for you.”

  Daniel hadn’t thought he would ever feel anything beyond the pain again. He should have known better. Just when he was about to give up, in came his angel, bringing comfort and sunshine. He suddenly understood what people were talking about when they called their lover a “soft place to land”.

  The feel of her crushed against him, her hair against his cheek and lips, wiped away the tension of hours spent in hospital chairs. The sound of her soft voice, so musical and unlike her singing voice, drowned out the lingering sound of machinery beeping and whirring. She smelled of orange blossoms and a faint hint of musky perfume, and breathing her in, he could finally erase the acrid hospital smells that still filled his head.

  When she insisted he’d been there for her, the guilt nearly swamped him. He hadn’t held her for her sake, but his own. Even now he knew she should be with Matt. But he was selfish, and he didn’t want to let her go. She was absolutely right—he needed her desperately. And not just for one night. But to admit that was to admit his own weakness.

  Love makes you weak, boy… You’ll end up like me—broken

  Hell. He already was broken. Maybe he hadn’t crawled into a bottle yet, but he was definitely well along the road to the weakness and destruction that characterized life with his old man.

  She sat quietly next to him for a while, seeming content just to lean against his arm and rest her head on his shoulder. She was silent for so long that he thought she might have gone to sleep, but eventually she rose and beckoned him to follow her as she headed to the kitchen.

  Vaguely, feeling numb and disconnected, he took the seat she directed him to and watched her rummage through his refrigerator.

  “How did we end up with no food?” She shot him a chastising look. “I swear I grocery shopped less than a week ago. You and Matthew are like locusts—you descend and devour anything in your paths.”

  Her words were scolding, but she smiled when she said them.

  After a moment she came to the table and presented him with her culinary masterpiece—a thick, gooey peanut-butter and jelly sandwich. The piece de resistance was a tall, cold glass of milk. He looked at it doubtfully but quickly capitulated when she glowered over him until he took a bite.

  To his surprise, it was good. It tasted innocent and homey. Just like the woman sitting across from him, chasing her own sandwich down with long sips of milk punctuated with slow licks along her bottom lip.

  His sex stirred, but he beat it back. Making love to Shannon tonight, without Matthew as a buffer, when his emotions were so raw, would be nothing but a mistake.

  Still, when they’d finished, working together to wipe the table and counters and rinse the dishes, he allowed her to lead him into the bathroom and stood without argument as she began to run a steamy shower.

  He looked so lost. And that was a description Shannon never thought to apply to Daniel. He seemed torn between his need to hold and be held, and his need to pull back and rebuild his walls. The longer she was with him the more she realized Matt had been right—tonight they risked losing Daniel to the demons of his past.

  She didn’t plan to let that happen.

  She’d had a moment of insecurity when she’d presented him with his sandwich, but quickly decided that they could enjoy roasted whatever-it-was another night, when Matthew was healed and could join them. The vanilla crème brûlée wasn’t going anywhere.

  From his reaction to her gourmet dinner, no one had ever fed him peanut butter and milk before. She didn’t know much about his parents, but found herself cursing the mother who obviously hadn’t taken care of her remarkable son. She’d bet he’d never had grilled cheese, either.

  After clearing the table, she stood beside him and combed her fingers through his hair, savoring his light shudder when she dragged her nails over his scalp in just the way he liked. Tonight wasn’t about sex, she knew, but about being close. About touching more than each other’s bodies. Sex would certainly be a part of it, but tonight was so much more.

  She was surprised when he allowed her to lead him to the bathroom. He stood quietly while she adjusted the temperature and water pressure until it was just the way he liked it. Knowing these little things, how he liked his shower, how he fixed his coffee, the way he liked his clothes arranged in the closet, all gave her a warm feeling every bit as gooey as the peanut butter they’d just shared.

  Once the shower was running, Shannon moved to face Daniel. He’d lost his tie sometime during the endless hours at the hospital, and his silk shirt hung open just enough to offer tantalizing glimpses of golden skin at his throat. His jacket was gone too, and through the thin silk, which was quickly absorbing the steam in the air and beginning to cling to his torso as lovingly as she wanted to, she could make out every ridge of muscle.

  With a low sigh, she went to work on his buttons.

  The skin she bared was the deep-gold of brushed satin. His chest, nearly hairless, beckoned her hands, and she willingly answered, stroking him softly. Not so much to arouse, but more to calm. She pulled the tails loose and slid her hands inside, sliding them around his waist and then kneading her way up his back. He stood silent, docile, but she could see the effect of her touch in the way the small muscles around his eyes softened while the large muscle between his thighs hardened.

  She undid his French cuffs, dropping the gold and emerald cufflinks on the counter, and slid the shirt off entirely. He let her, and his lack of participation seemed to shout how emotionally traumatized he was.

  “You know,” she said, looking down at his shoes. “I could use some help here.”

  He toed them off and commented, “Sorry, angel. I thought this was your show.”

  She sent him a naughty smile from below her lashes. “Oh, it is.” She was hard at work on his belt. “I just wanted to move things along.”

  It didn’t take her long to have him naked, and she couldn’t resist taking a moment to appreciate the male beauty displayed before her. Once she’d looked her fill, she prodded him into the shower, ignoring his mumbled, “Hey, no fair. I didn’t get to see you.”

  Once he was luxuriating under the steamy spray, Shannon quickly slipped out of her teal silk dress. She hung it carefully on the door, hoping the drycleaner would be able to get the hospital smells out. She’d never owned anything so fine, and she would be sorry t
o lose it after just one wear.

  Naked, she slipped into the shower behind Daniel. She set her hands on his hips to stop him when he would have turned around, and quickly dumped fragrant shower gel on a puff. Using slow, circular strokes, she began to massage the bubbles over his back. The sight of the white foam separating and sliding down his wet back entranced her, and she took a very long time at it.

  When his shoulders began to droop, and his hands stopped flexing, she went to her knees, giving the same rapt attention to his delectably round buttocks, his thighs, and even his feet.

  Sliding around him, she began on his front, moving up his legs, deliberately skirting the piece of him that was desperately reaching for her, and working her way up his rippling abdomen over his chest and to his shoulders.

  “I can’t reach your hair,” she commented regretfully. He promptly dropped to his knees at her feet. When he wrapped his arms around her hips and leaned his head against her belly, she felt a shot of heat streaking from her heart straight between her legs, leaving everything in between tingling.

  Her shampooing was every bit as languorous as the rest of her bathing had been. By the time she had him tilt back to rinse, he was nearly limp, those burning blue eyes closed. She almost hated to urge him to his feet. He looked done for. But she did, and slicking her palms with more liquid soap, she finally focused in on the only part of him that had been neglected so far.

  He jerked a bit when she wrapped both hands around his cock, then sighed and relaxed into her touch. She stood close enough to rest her forehead on his sternum while she looked down at her handiwork.

  Hand over hand she stroked him, savoring each spurt of growth as he got longer, thicker. Capping one palm over the swollen head, she slid the other back between his legs to cup his balls. As she rotated her hand over the sensitive crown, she rolled his balls over her fingers and was rewarded when they drew up tight and swollen.

  He didn’t last long. Her every act, her every touch since she’d arrived, had been their foreplay. Her hands felt so good, and she knew exactly how to touch him. In a matter of moments, his thighs were stiffening and he tipped her chin up with one finger.