Unraveling Josh

by Edie Danford

  “Let’s get out of the water, then,” he murmured, making me shiver. “Come under the sun.” He pulled back and clasped my face in his wet hands. “You looked so fucking hot when we were laying out earlier—sweaty and lickable.”

  I leaned in for another kiss, juiced by his words and the idea he was actually gonna let me touch him somewhere that wasn’t a darkened bedroom or a car or a deserted locker room.

  Moaning, he pulled away abruptly. “Gotta stop now, or my plan won’t work.”

  He towed me toward the pool’s shallow end, and we were both a little wobbly as we climbed out. I’d been thinking the grass or one of the big cushioned chaises would work best for what we were about to get up to, but our knees and dicks had different ideas. We collapsed on the tiles by the pool, both of us gasping as our bodies connected with each other and with the sun-hot terracotta.

  I had a notion to get him underneath me fast, but he shoved at my shoulders and held me down while he went after my mouth again. I’d just entered a blissful state of losing my mind to his rapidly improving kissing skills, when he sunk me deeper into a hot haze by shoving down my trunks and taking my hard, wet cock in his hand. He’d been bracing himself above me, and his palm was already dry and warm from the tiles’ heat. The rough feel of him cupping my needy shaft and aching balls had me bucking my hips, my legs moving restlessly against the smooth surface beneath us, my hands clutching his shoulders.

  “You gonna come for me now, Joshua?” He looked down at me, his blue eyes a few shades more intense than the summer sky behind him. His strokes picked up speed, his thumb toying with the sticky stuff leaking from my slit. “You gonna show me how gorgeous you are when you get off?”

  “Need it,” I whispered, straining, striving. I closed my eyes, tipped my head back. With a sharp gasp, I shot—way faster than I’d wanted to, but, man, it felt so, so good.

  “Hot,” he whispered, slowing his strokes, bringing me back to earth. “So hot.”

  I opened my eyes and smiled up at him.

  His elbow gave way and he collapsed beside me. I reached for the waistband of his trunks, knowing he must be about to explode, but his hand stopped me.

  “Already went.” His grin was sheepish.

  I kissed him and laughed softly. “That’ll happen. I’ll getcha next time.”

  I flopped onto my side and began stroking his buzzed hair. I smiled. The damp nap of it made me think of my soft-bristled toothbrush. Didn’t tell him that, though.

  “Josh…”

  “Yeah?”

  “I think…”

  “You think?”

  “I love you.”

  Before I could respond, he kissed me hard. Maybe too hard. My chest felt weird, like one of the floatie toys bobbing in the pool.

  He loved me. I was happy he’d said it…grateful he’d opened up to me. But now that it was actually out there in the open, I wasn’t sure if I should say it back. I wasn’t sure I felt the same way, and my sudden doubt kinda freaked me out.

  His sticky fingers clutched my side. I pulled back and reached for a towel that had been slung over a nearby chair. I carefully began to wipe his hand and my belly, trying to think of how to handle this.

  He eased onto his back and put his clean hand over his eyes. “I said it too soon, didn’t I? Fuck. I am so bad at this. I don’t know why you even put up—”

  “No,” I said. “Just no. You are not bad at this. We’re both learning as we go along.” I leaned in to kiss him, reassure him, but he sat abruptly.

  “Jesus, Josh. You don’t have to goddamn baby me, you know? I don’t expect you to love me back.”

  I felt dizzy, the sun suddenly way too hot. With a wince, I sank back down to the tiles. Shit, shit, shit…

  “Shit!” Austin said. At least, I thought it was him and not me who had said it so loudly, the word bouncing off the water. He was staring wide-eyed at something by the house.

  Confused, I struggled to sit. “What?” I put my hand on his back and he rose to his knees. “What is it?”

  “Someone’s here.”

  His gaze was fixed on the shadows of the breezeway that connected the house and the garage. Our yard was big—like all the yards in this neighborhood—the pool fenced off and insulated by landscaping and trees.

  I squinted, trying to fix on movement, but didn’t see anything. I quickly shoved my dick back into my trunks. “Could be the UPS dude or the mailman. Both my folks are out of town today.”

  His very, very serious Austin face made its first appearance of the day. He muttered something under his breath that I didn’t catch.

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” he said. “It’s okay. I think I know who it is.” He stood and started booking toward the path that led toward the front yard.

  I’d just struggled to my feet when he turned and called over his shoulder. “You stay here,” he said. “I’ll handle this.”

  I glanced beyond him but still didn’t see anything. “Um, okay I guess.” He was already jogging away. I was starting to worry he was wigging out on me, pretending to see something out there so he could avoid talking about what had just happened between us. Or, even worse, bail on me altogether.

  I’d give him a few minutes and then I’d go after him.

  I was feeling thirsty, so I headed for the house. Inside it felt too cool, too quiet. I deliberately made a bunch of noise as I got a big jug of lemonade from the fridge. I drank half a glass and grimaced. My hand smelled like chlorine and jizz. I stepped over to the sink and washed my hands. When I glanced out the window, I saw Austin standing at the end of the driveway. He was talking to a skinny dude on a bike. The kid had blue hair and looked vaguely familiar.

  I didn’t like the expressions on their faces. Or their body language—Austin looked pissed, the kid looked frozen. Austin’s big hands gripped the bike’s handlebars and the kid’s leg was bleeding.

  Running my wet hands over my face, I headed for the front door. By the time I made it into the yard, the kid was halfway down the block, pedaling like a fiend.

  “What the hell?” I asked Austin.

  He walked toward me, his bare feet making soft sounds on the paved driveway. His face looked pale in the shifting shadows of a big oak, and the red rims of his eyes seemed weirdly fluorescent. “Um…” He glanced away from me and stared after the kid. He’d disappeared—must’ve turned at the end of the block.

  “Who was that?”

  “An, um, friend. Of mine. Guy I know from way back.” He leaned heavily on his car. It was parked alongside mine in the driveway. A bright yellow Mustang, distinctive enough that this friend of Austin’s must’ve seen it and stopped. That was my guess anyway.

  “Oh. Well… You could’ve asked him if he wanted to hang out or something.” I was really confused. By what I’d just seen. And by Austin’s super-edgy vibe.

  “Sorry,” he said, shaking his head as if he needed to clear it. “He came by to see you—” His voice cracked and I was shocked to see tears forming in his eyes.

  “Hey. What’s wrong?”

  He shook his head. He raised his arm and I noticed for the first time he was holding a book. “He brought this for you.”

  “For me?”

  “Yeah. He was one of the guys in soccer camp. He dropped out halfway through, but you…” He swiped at his face—tears were starting to track down his cheeks—and he made a truly sorry attempt at a smile.

  “I don’t get it. Why are you so—”

  “You made an impression on him I guess,” he talked over me, his voice vibrating with emotion. “Makes sense. You’re both so fucking smart. You two actually have way more in common than me and you—”

  “Austin. Who exactly came by just now? Maybe you should start there.”

  “Nicholas came by to give you this. I guess you talked about poetry or something with him?” He offered me the book with a shaky gesture. “I sent him away—”

  His voice broke and I took the book but didn’t look
at it. I was too freaked by what was happening with Austin. He’d begun crying for real, his big shoulders shaking. Tears welled in my eyes, my empathetic-crying reaction kicking in big-time. The only thing I could think to do was take him in my arms and hold him tight. I dropped the book on the grass and pulled him hard against my body.

  “It’s okay, Aus,” I whispered in his ear. “We’ll figure this out. I promise.”

  He grabbed me, clinging as if I were the only thing between him and drowning. “I fucked up,” he gasped into my neck. “Shit, Josh. You’d hate me if you knew. He was a friend. My best friend when I was a kid. And I treated him like shit. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know…”

  I led him into the house and I settled us both on the big sofa in the family room. I rocked him as he cried, giving up tears he’d obviously been holding for way too long.

  All summer he’d been riding the edge of something like this. I’d sensed something was lurking under his too-serious surface, but I hadn’t really understood the size or shape of it. For a bunch of reasons—some I could guess at and some I’d probably never get—this was the morning he’d cracked.

  I was grateful I was here to hold him, to help him through whatever was happening. But I was also worried. Austin needed more than what I could give him. I was his friend, and I’d do my best to make sure he found the help he needed, but I wasn’t sure how we’d move forward, especially when I had to leave for Ellery in a couple weeks.

  As he drifted off to sleep, still holding me tight, I gazed out the big windows overlooking the backyard. The sun was playing funky games with the pool, creating ripples that seemed to rise above the water’s aqua surface—a dancing 3D shadow that reflected something deeper than I could see.

  I stroked Austin’s sleek skin and thought about hidden depths. The shit we kept buried, and the shit that, no matter how hard we tried to keep it down, was bound to break through the surface.

  Josh—present

  IT WAS TEN after nine. I was nervous as hell. I honestly had no clue if Nick would show or not.

  The tower had seemed truly beautiful—rich and colorful and filled with mystery and shadow like something out of a pre-Raphaelite painting—when I’d finished decorating it about a half hour ago. Now all the candles and velvet and flowers I’d draped and scattered everywhere were making me nervous.

  They’d turn totally funereal if my guy was a no-show. Cleanup from hell right there. But, yeah. Being royal wasn’t easy. You could give orders, commands, sure, but if they weren’t obeyed, you had to prove your ass with scary shit like dungeons and swords and torture racks.

  I flopped on the couch and tried to relax. I closed my eyes and pictured Nick spread out on a rack, his bony wrists and ankles tied with silky cords instead of hard leather. His eyes filled not with pain, but with lust and that evil glint I loved so much.

  I nearly fell off the couch when I heard the door on the first floor creak open. My heart pumped so fast and hard I got dizzy when I stood.

  I took a deep breath, trying to remember how I’d scripted this scene. Slow. Commanding. Powerful.

  Right.

  I stepped toward the stairway. “Who goes there?” I called in a deep voice.

  “I am no one, sire,” a clear, only sort-of raspy voice said from the base of the stairs.

  I smiled. He was here. He was playing the game. It would be okay. “Why are you here, knight?”

  “I received a summons, your majesty.”

  “Come here.”

  I heard the rustle of cloth. Maybe a breath or a sigh.

  Then soft treads on the stone steps.

  I stood a few feet away from the top step, my arms at my sides. I’d had a gold silk robe next-day aired and I’d been pleasantly surprised by the way the thick fabric felt against my bare skin. Who knew? I should’ve splurged a long time ago and spent a few hundred bucks on a robe just for lounging. Yeah, because lounging happened so often…

  God, I was nervous.

  I held my breath as he slowly came into view.

  Oh my God. His hair—it was gone. He’d shaved his head. Tears pricked my eyes. Nick.

  But I didn’t have time to think or react. Because his whole body appeared and I saw he was totally nude. He’d shaved around his dick too; it was semi-erect—proud and unabashed as he stood with his hands loosely at his sides. As my eyes traveled over him again—and then again—the heavy shaft began to fill with blood, rise to attention.

  I swallowed. Talk about power. Now what the fuck was I going to do with it? The only light in the room was candlelight—there were at least fifty of them, though, and the way the gold light danced over his pale skin, his tats and the ruby-red tip of his cock. It was impossible to breathe. But I didn’t want to pass out. This was too good to miss.

  I made myself take a long, slow breath. “Come here.”

  He walked slowly, head down, and stopped about a foot away.

  “All the way.” My voice was too hoarse to pull off a true command, but hopefully he got the picture. “So your body’s touching mine.”

  He came closer. I could hear the rough sound of his breath, see the rise and fall of his chest.

  I widened my stance, allowing his feet to rest between mine. His dick was the first thing to touch me—like a homing device it sought out and brushed against my silk-covered cock. I raised my hands, put them on either side of his head. “Look at me,” I whispered.

  His chin rose, but his eyes stayed closed. I bent and gently kissed each eyelid. They fluttered open. As usual, I immediately sank into those blown pupils, drowning in the brown-edged black. “There you are,” I whispered. “You’re not no one. You’re my knight. My Nick.” His eyes drifted closed again as I kissed him on the mouth. His lips were as dry as mine and our skin rasped and snagged.

  “Kiss me,” I commanded. “For real. Like you mean it. Put your hands on me.”

  Okay, the prince sounded a little needy there. Maybe even a little spoiled. But my knight obeyed. He put his hands on my shoulders and, after licking his lips, licked gently at mine. I opened for him and, just like that, the dryness disappeared, his flavor drawing forth all kinds of needy, flowing feelings. And not just in my mouth. I could feel warmth and moisture grow in the hollows of my elbows and knees. At the base of my spine, under my balls and in my armpits.

  He moaned softly into my mouth and my hands dropped to his hips as the kiss deepened. The tip of his tongue was reacquainting itself with all its favorite spots in my mouth.

  In the meantime, I was thrusting against him, moving my hands around to cup his ass. My fingers dipped into his crack and he jumped, gasping against my mouth.

  “What?” I whispered. My fingers continued to explore and they bumped up against something hard. A plug? Jesus. Yeah. That’s what it had to be. What the…?

  He bowed his head, resting his forehead on my shoulder.

  “What is this I feel, knight?”

  His shoulders shook slightly and then stopped. I didn’t blame him for laughing—my prince voice was dorky as hell. I felt him draw a breath. “It is called a butt plug, sire.”

  I smiled. He was doing very well not to giggle.

  I toyed with the end of the plug, making him jump.

  “And why are you…?” I swallowed and tried again. “I did not command you to wear such a thing.”

  “I know, sire. I was hoping it would please you. I was hoping…”

  I pressed on the plug. He inhaled sharply. “You were hoping?”

  “I was hoping you might want to fuck me. Sire.”

  “For real?” I cleared my throat. “I mean, what made you think this is what your sovereign wanted?”

  He stroked my silk-covered back. Warm and soothing. Knight-like. Actually, Nick-like. “Um, I thought about it because a lot of guys like it, sire. I thought you would like to try it. With me.”

  “I don’t know… I never—”

  “Shhh, sire. It’s okay. I’ll show you. It’s what I’m good at. It’
s how I’d like to serve you.”

  I frowned down at him. “You’re good at many things, knight.”

  He nodded. Not so much like he was agreeing with me. More like he was indulging me. “I’ll do whatever you command. I’m yours.”

  He sounded like he meant it. But it was hard to be sure because of this game we were playing.

  “I’m prepared, sire,” he whispered. “Inside and out. For you. And I haven’t done this in a very long time. And I only did it—” He pressed his head against my chest. “It would be like you were my first.”

  I closed my eyes. He was giving me a gift. Something he thought of as a gift. He’d taken my ass and now I was supposed to take his. I wasn’t sure I wanted it. Not because I didn’t want to fuck him—because I did. The thought of burying myself in his tight ass made my dick twitch and my brain short out. Damn.

  But my instincts were telling me that for him this was some kind of grand gesture to show he was sorry. To… To I don’t know what. Prostrate himself mentally. Not only that, but his tone, his body language, made it seem like it was a final gesture.

  “Please,” he whispered. “I want this. I want to feel you…be with you. Like this.”

  And I knew right then that this was my opportunity to show him how much I loved him, how much I cared. My dreams for how I’d do that tonight had been different, but the outcome was what was important.

  Nick had taught me that getting off could be an adventure—freeing and uplifting. There were some fucked-up things he’d done, things I’d never do and didn’t fully understand. But I’d had weeks to see his actions from other angles. Weeks to find out more about him, to uncover a few layers he’d never felt comfortable enough to share.

  When I thought of that first night we’d been together, what I always ended up coming back to was not his attitude or his motivation or even the things he’d said. What I came back to was his touch—he’d been patient and sexy and tender and giving. Knowing what I now knew about him, about his past, made that giving spirit even more amazing.

  I’d forgiven him a long time ago. Forgiveness had been an abstract act—a concept I’d worked through in my head. This—this was concrete. This was about love, trusting him again with my heart and my body.