Resilience

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Resilience Page 12

by Tymber Dalton


  “Smartass.”

  “Well, considering you’re not able to set hands on this ass right now, how would you know?”

  “Touché. Want to talk to him? He’s washing dishes.”

  “Sure. Love you.”

  “Love you, too, baby girl. Let me get him.” He pulled the phone away. “Ty?”

  Tyler wheeled around, smiling. “Nev?”

  Tom held the phone up and shook it at him.

  Tyler dried his hands on a dishtowel and rushed over to take it. “Nev, darling?”

  Tom leaned back and watched his guy as Ty settled next to him on the couch, talking with her.

  Yeah, Tyler was well on his way to getting toasted, that was for sure. Tomorrow they’d have to deal with the bank, and if Tyler had a hangover, that’d only add an extra layer of misery to the festivities.

  Once Tyler finished talking to Nev and ended the call, Tyler tried to hand the phone back to him, but Tom decided to take matters in hand before they got too far out of hand.

  To take Tyler in hand.

  Instead of reaching for the phone, he closed his hand around Tyler’s. Then, Tom’s other hand caught the front of Tyler’s shirt and pulled him in for a long, deep kiss. He tasted the fruity wine Tyler had been drinking, and loved the feel of Tyler’s goatee and mustache against his own face. As Tyler relaxed against him, Tom slid the hand holding Tyler’s shirt around to cup the back of his neck and keep him in place so he could deepen their kiss.

  Once Tyler’s other hand relaxed, the one holding the phone, Tom knew he had the man’s full and undivided attention. Tom set the phone on the coffee table and released his kiss so he could look down into Tyler’s sweet blue eyes.

  One of the first things he’d noticed about Tyler so many years ago, drawn in by them, spooky-gorgeous and intense in a way that seemed to be staring straight into his soul.

  Sure, Tom hurt. A lot.

  But so was Tyler, even if his pain was emotional and mental, not physical.

  He needed to take care of his guy.

  Tom leaned back against the couch and spread his legs, pulling Tyler’s face down toward his lap, his other hand now buried in Tyler’s hair.

  Tyler needed no instructions. His fingers quickly untied Tom’s sweatpants and pulled them down, and he shifted position so he knelt on the floor between Tom’s spread thighs after fishing Tom’s cock from his briefs.

  As he wrapped his lips around the end of Tom’s now rigid cock, Tyler’s eyes focused up, on Tom’s face.

  Eager. Open.

  Vulnerable.

  Tom’s cock twitched. “Fuck, sugar. You know what you do to me. Every damn time.”

  Tyler smiled before Tom’s cock disappeared deep between his lips. Cradling Ty’s head in his hands, Tom savored this blowjob, just like he’d savored every single damn one of them Ty had ever given him.

  He still couldn’t believe Tyler loved him. Had always felt convinced that Tyler had married down by settling for him. That he wasn’t nearly as good or as handsome as Ty.

  Yet this many decades later, Ty still seemed to want him.

  His thumbs stroked Tyler’s cheeks, evening stubble making his flesh sweetly rough. “That’s it, sugar. Who’s my guy?”

  Ty moaned, his mouth vibrating around Tom’s cock. For a few minutes, Tom could focus on something besides pain, besides his stupid damn body failing him when he needed to be there for Tyler the most.

  “That’s right. You’re my guy. You take damn good care of me, and I’m gonna take damn good care of you. Don’t make me come, just get me nice and hard.” While Tyler was out, Tom had gotten up to use the bathroom, changed into sweats, and grabbed a couple of things.

  Just in case.

  He’d also tweaked the thermostat up a little, not too hot, not too cold.

  He slowly unbuttoned his shirt as Tyler worked up and down his cock with his mouth. Hot, sweet heat, his tongue knowing perfectly how to stroke the head, play with him, tease him. So many hours spent just like this over the years, both of them, and Nevvie, too. They knew each other’s bodies perfectly.

  It made it even more right that, tonight, he could be here, in this place, with his guy.

  His.

  Poetic justice that it was the two of them alone in this apartment, slowly exorcising the demons from Tyler’s soul.

  He pulled the lube and a condom from where he’d stashed them in the side table drawer and coaxed Tyler to his feet. “Strip, buddy.”

  Tyler did, his gaze already heavy-lidded, sweetly glazed.

  Subspace, for sure.

  Tom fisted his own cock and slowly jacked it, keeping himself hard. He’d only have the one in him tonight, and it might take Tyler a little work to get him over the edge, between the pain and the meds, but he’d damn sure give it a try.

  Tyler quickly stripped and his cock was also hard.

  Tom reached out with his other hand and wrapped his fingers around it, smiling up at him. “Looky there. Someone’s feeling frisky, hmm?”

  Too much more wine and Tyler would be out like a damn light, so that was another reason Tom wanted to distract him now.

  Tyler didn’t reply, rocking his hips in time with Tom’s strokes. Tom squeezed his cock. “I didn’t hear an answer from you.”

  He knew he’d have to avoid the use of the word “boy” here, in this place.

  At least for now. At home, sure.

  Here it might prove a bad emotional trigger for Tyler on top of everything else happening, the way Marcus had called him that.

  It’d call for a lot of conversation first.

  “Yes, Sir,” Ty whispered.

  Tom tugged him close, leaning in so he could swipe his tongue over the head of Tyler’s cock, drawing another moan from him. “Lube that sweet ass and get that condom on me so you can ride me, baby.”

  No, they weren’t as young as they once were, but they were as good as they ever were together when it came to the love and heart they each brought to the table. They knew what counted now.

  They didn’t take it for granted. Not a second of it.

  Tyler quickly prepped and rolled the condom down Tom’s shaft, lubing him, too. Tom grabbed him by the hips and pulled him down onto the couch so Tyler straddled him. Then he wrapped his arms around Ty, kissing him.

  Slowly, Tom let Tyler impale himself on his cock. When Ty’s ass met Tom’s thighs, Tom held him still and kept kissing him, feeling Tyler’s hard cock twitching with eager interest between them.

  Tom smiled up at him. “Who do you belong to, baby?”

  Tyler draped his arms around Tom’s neck. “You bloody well know who I belong to, you fucking sadist. Fuck my arse before I explode!”

  Tom reached up and fisted his hair, pulling his head down and to the side, foreheads touching. “What was that?”

  Tyler tried to rock against him, knowing this game and having been the instigator of similar torment to Tom plenty of times in the past. “Please fuck my arse, Sir.”

  Tom wouldn’t release him, kissing him, nibbling on Ty’s lower lip and sucking on his tongue, prolonging the sweet feeling of Ty’s ass tightly fisting his cock.

  “You can get fucked when I’m ready to fuck you,” Tom warned him. “Not before. And you don’t come until I do. Right now, I want to enjoy this. We haven’t had time or opportunity to do any couch fucking for a while.”

  Tyler squirmed against him, needy tones starting to creep in. “Please! Bloody hell, I was gone two damn weeks!”

  Yes, they hadn’t had their usual welcome home fuck-fest like they normally did when Tyler returned from a trip. The three of them holed up in their bedroom once the kids had left for school, working out the frustrations they all had from one of their perfect triad being away.

  Tyler usually felt horny after one of those trips, especially if he’d travelled alone, even if he’d masturbated while away.

  “Technically, you’re still gone, sugar.” Tommy grinned. “I’m kinda liking this position. It feels good an
d I love being able to make you squirm.” He leaned in and sucked on Tyler’s left nipple, then the right, grazing his teeth over them and drawing more moans from the man. He knew exactly what he was doing to Tyler.

  He knew his guy’s body as well as he did his own. Better, sometimes.

  Just like Tyler knew his, and when Tyler was on top, so to speak, he enjoyed doing this to Tom as well.

  “Please!”

  Tom lifted his head. “I don’t know. I’m really enjoying the hell out of this, sugar. I didn’t have you in bed for two weeks. Maybe I should punish you for leaving us that long. Make you beg for it.” He slid his hands along Tyler’s hips and pressed down, burying his cock a little deeper in Tyler’s ass.

  Tyler groaned in reply, trying to rise up so he could fuck himself on Tom’s cock. Tom forced him to hold still, to remain in place.

  That, and Tom realized he’d been wrong about it maybe taking him a little effort to get over. Now that his cock was happily buried inside his guy, it wouldn’t take much at all to tip him over the edge and he wanted to give Tyler a ride. At least for a few minutes.

  He pulled Ty close again, one arm wrapped around his shoulders so Tom could kiss and cradle him there, the other holding Ty’s cock. Not stroking, just a little pressure to tease him and keep his interest up.

  “What am I gonna do with you, sugar, hmm? All eager to hump me. Maybe I want to snuggle like this for a while.”

  Tyler tried to play dirty, tweaking Tom’s nipples, wanting to coax him into letting him move, but Tom held on tighter.

  “No you don’t,” Tom whispered before kissing him again, distracting Tyler. A long whine escaped Tyler, making Tom chuckle. “What’s the matter, baby?” He gave Ty’s cock a squeeze and ran his thumb over the head, spreading pre-cum from the slit.

  “I need you,” Ty whispered. “Please.”

  Tom let him take a couple of slow thrusts before holding him in place again. “I don’t want to blow yet,” he finally admitted. “I’m too close.”

  Tyler grabbed his head and kissed him, hard, tongue-fucking him, dragging a moan in reply from Tom.

  “I love you,” Ty gasped. “I love you so much I don’t have words for it.”

  He stroked his thumb over Ty’s lips. “You just said it, baby. And I love you, too.” He took pity on him, hands once again settling on Tyler’s hips. “Ride it out of me, and then I’ll take care of you.”

  Holding on to Tom’s shoulders, Tyler started fucking him, slowly at first with Tom’s hands guiding him, then faster, harder, until he was bouncing on Tom’s cock and quickly driving him toward the edge.

  “Eyes open,” Tom gasped. “I want you watching me when I come for you.”

  Tyler’s blue gaze pierced through his heart, through his soul, completely owning him.

  Always had.

  He’d known that first day, drinking coffee with him after the book signing, that he’d fallen hard and fast for Ty.

  His guy.

  Tyler leaned in, lips hovering over Tom’s, their gazes still locked. “Give it to me. I want it.”

  Tom did. It erupted from deep in his balls. His hands tightened around Tyler’s hips as he drove his cock up into his guy, hard, pressing in deep as he filled the condom and sweet relief swirled through every nerve ending in his body. Driving out everything else for a brief moment, even the pain.

  He grabbed Ty’s cock and quickly, firmly stroked him, kissing him again and loving that familiar delicious twist that grabbed his heart when he heard and then felt Ty coming for him. His ass contracted around Tom’s softening cock, his hot cum coating his hand, his lips eager and hungry on Tom’s mouth as he let it roll through him.

  Happy and sated, Tom wrapped his arms around Ty again, not caring about the mess, pulling Tyler against him to cuddle with Tyler’s head pressed against his shoulder.

  “Don’t move yet, sugar,” Tom mumbled. “Please? I want to snuggle for a little bit like this.”

  “Never, love. Not until you wish me to.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Nevvie had returned home, unloaded and put away the groceries, and was in the process of starting to assemble the lasagna she was making to take to dinner that night when she heard her phone ding with an incoming e-mail alert.

  She had a special tone for that account, a personal one only her family and close friends had, so she didn’t have to worry about spam or having to sort through mountains of work-related stuff for Tyler.

  Tom. From the sig line, she knew he’d sent it from his phone, which also explained the brevity of his message and the shorthand he usually didn’t use.

  Apartment’s worth over $400k US. Bank accnts & life ins over $600k US. Attny today, bank tmrw.

  I think Ty wants to keep apartment for now. Don’t think we shd make him sell it. Personal belongings to sort through. Sry but won’t rush him. He needs time to work this out.

  Love you, baby girl. Sry we’re not there.

  Stunned, she leaned against the kitchen counter and scrolled through the pics he’d attached to the e-mail. It had to be night there, so these late-morning or early-afternoon photos were obviously taken earlier in the day.

  The view looked gorgeous, and while it was hard to really tell how big the place was, she could easily see why it was worth a lot of money.

  In the picture of the bedroom, likely taken from the doorway, based on the shot down the hall from the living room, she spotted what had to be an urn.

  She replied with a text.

  Is that what I think it is in the bedroom?

  He responded a minute later.

  If you think it’s Marcus’ dead husband’s ashes, then yes, you’re a winner. ;)

  Nevvie cringed, not wanting to ask what had to happen next regarding that. The less pressure Ty was under, the faster the process would go. It was happening without her presence, so obviously, it was happening. Her guys were adults. They didn’t need her to hold their hands through this. If they needed her, or her input, they’d say so.

  She was going to text him another question, but then he texted her an address.

  That’s our new digs if you want to Google Earth it. I’m going to put our boy to bed for the night and take a pill. Love you.

  Questions would have to wait until tomorrow. It bothered her that Tom was still taking pain pills. That maybe he was hurting worse than he was letting on and doing too much, not taking care of himself.

  Love you. Love and kisses to Ty for me.

  * * * *

  Tom quietly set his phone on the side table next to his side of the bed. After untangling from their interlude on the couch and taking a long, hot shower, they’d curled up in bed and Tyler had fallen asleep almost immediately. Tom waited until he knew Tyler was out for the night before he sent Nev the e-mail from his phone with the pics he’d taken earlier.

  He wanted Ty to sleep tonight.

  Right now, he was waiting for the pain pill to kick in. He’d considered not taking one, but knew if he didn’t and awakened in the middle of the night needing one, it’d fuck him up tomorrow. He wanted to try to get by without one in the morning, to wait until their return from the bank. His leg was finally starting to ease up a little.

  Last time I get on a ladder anytime soon.

  Right about now, Nevvie would be getting whatever she was making tonight ready for Wednesday night dinner at Dad’s. It hadn’t taken much for Tom to think of Andrew as “Dad,” even before Andrew married Tom’s mother.

  Tom missed Nevvie, missed their kids, missed their family—missed home.

  It took every ounce of willpower he had to not step in, take control of this for Tyler, and fix it for him. Especially since there really wasn’t a way for him to fix it.

  Once he knew exhaustion and the sex and the wine had a solid stranglehold on Tyler’s body, Tom carefully slid out of bed, grabbed his phone, and headed out to the living room, where he plucked a blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped it around him.

  Then
he took his laptop and the envelope from Marcus over to the dining room table. He decided to start with a short letter, from Jean-Claude to Marcus, dated around the time Tyler had first met Marcus.

  He slowly typed the text into a Word document, occasionally having to Google a word because he wasn’t sure with the handwriting what the spelling was. Halfway through it, the pain pill started trying to drag him under with every keystroke.

  Once he completed it, he copied and pasted the entire text into Google to translate it.

  It was a little rough, but Tom could auto-correct in his mind and figure out the gist of what was being said.

  Dearest One,

  You ask if I can forgive you and my answer remains as always—I love you. I never claimed perfection and do not expect it of you. I did not understand why you ran to America to escape. I say again if you wish to leave then go, or if you wish to stay then stay. I need certainty. I need to know I have your love if you are giving it to me. And I need it to be me you want if you stay. That is all I have ever wanted—you.

  All my heart,

  J-C.

  Tom sat back, knowing he shouldn’t be doing this and wishing like hell he could read French.

  But he fucking wanted to know what the hell was in these letters before letting Tyler see them translated. He wouldn’t risk his guy being dragged down an emotional well he had no ability to dig his way out of because that fucker was dead and unable to answer questions.

  He grabbed his phone and sent a text.

  Nev, are you at Dad’s yet?

  * * * *

  Nev felt her phone buzz in her pocket and was a little surprised to see Tom’s text when she’d expected him to be asleep.

  Just got here. Why?

  His reply arrived seconds later.

  Does he speak French? Ask him alone.

  Nevvie wasn’t sure what was going on, but she turned and tapped Andrew on the shoulder and showed him her phone. They were alone in the kitchen, everyone else out in the dining or living rooms and getting things ready.

 

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