by N. R. Walker
It was the first time I’d seen him be remotely possessive. It was the first time I’d seen fear in his eyes. There was a bead of water threatening to fall from his hair, so I touched it and pressed my palm to his face. My words were barely a whisper. “I love you, Cooper. I’m in love with you,” I told him, and he smiled beautifully. Then I told him, “You drive me crazy, you do my head in some days, and you challenge everything I say, but you’ve breathed life into me. I never expected someone could understand me like you do.”
He smiled sweetly, then whispered, “Thank you,” before he pressed his lips to mine.
Sofia made some sound that was a half-scoff, half-sigh, and Cooper smiled against my lips. “I think we should go back to New York.”
“I think that’s a good idea,” Sofia said softly.
Ten minutes later we were packed, we’d said goodbyes with Ryan—though he said he’d see us next week sometime—Sofia had bid us a quiet, distant farewell and we were on the road.
Cooper was quiet, but he took my hand and smiled. It wasn’t lost on me that he’d not returned any declaration of love—he’d simply thanked me for mine.
But he was just radiating happiness, even hungover. I didn’t think he’d stopped smiling yet. Even when he fell asleep in the car, he was smiling.
The quiet drive, with Cooper sleeping in the passenger seat, gave me some time to think.
I didn’t regret what I’d told him.
I didn’t regret saying it in front of Sofia.
I regretted none of it.
I didn’t expect him to tell me he loved me back. I realised when I was driving back to the City that it didn’t matter. It only mattered that he knew I loved him.
And when we’d arrived back at my apartment, a still-sleepy Cooper dropped his suitcase inside my front door and went and raided the fridge.
I leaned against my kitchen counter and watched as he mumbled to himself and pulled out two sodas. “Want one?” he asked, but then his smile faltered. He closed the fridge and stood in front of me. “Tom, babe, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I told him. “Nothing at all.”
“You’re looking at me funny,” he said, but he looked concerned. “Is it because you said you loved me and I didn’t say anything back?”
“Sshh,” I hushed him, then pressed my lips to his.
“What is it?”
“Take me to bed,” I whispered.
He looked at me for a long moment. “Okay,” he agreed, but he was worried.
“No, Cooper,” I said, holding his face and shaking my head. “I want you to take me to bed,” I repeated. He still looked confused, so I spelled it out for him. “Cooper, I want you to top me.”
Chapter Six
“Are you sure?” he asked. I was naked on the bed and he was kneeling between my thighs.
“Yes. I am,” I told him, again. He’d asked me in the kitchen, he’d asked me before we undressed, now he was asking again. “I’m very sure. I want to share this with you.”
He exhaled with a nervous laugh. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
He knew I’d never bottomed, he knew this was new territory for me, so he understood how much this meant.
I sat up and swiped the pad of my thumb across his bottom lip. “Take your time and you won’t hurt me.”
He kissed me then, and we fell back onto the bed. He slicked his fingers and probed my ass while his tongue probed my mouth. He was gentle and sweet, he took his time and he took care of me.
He licked and sucked my cock while he slid his fingers inside me over and over, stretching me, preparing me for him. For where I wanted him. He pressed my gland again and again while he worshipped my cock with his mouth.
The intensity of my orgasm was crippling, and amazing. I’d never felt anything like it. I’d never come so hard. It was like he’d rendered my bones to liquid. I heard the rip of foil, then he pushed my legs up to my chest.
I was pliable, like Jell-O. And I still wanted more.
When he pressed against me and pushed inside me, it was a stretch and a burn, but he was slow and careful, and I welcomed it.
He leaned over me while he oh-so slowly filled me, giving me time to adjust. I put my arms around his neck and watched him. I watched his eyes roll back, I watched him tremble, his chest rise and fall in rapid breaths and I watched as he licked his lips and whimpered.
His pleasure was mine.
He kissed me, he gave me his tongue, he pulled on my bottom lip, and he kissed me again. Then his thrusts got a little harder, and a little deeper, and he groaned long and low.
“Tom,” he whispered gruffly. Then his hands held my face and his lips were touching mine as he breathed, as he thrust into me. He said my name again, and I lifted my legs higher, and he flexed into me as he came.
Completely spent, he collapsed on me and I traced circles on his back until he’d caught his breath. He pulled out of me, kissed me tenderly then he cleaned me up.
He never said a word.
But when he climbed back onto the bed, he wrapped his arms and legs around me. He’d never held me so tight.
We spent the afternoon in bed alternating between sleep and making out. When I was on top of him, kissing his neck and jaw, I rolled us over so he was on top of me and I asked him to make love to me again.
He made me come again with no less intensity than before, then he laid me face down on the bed. He pressed his weight on me then pressed inside me. He threaded his fingers with mine and whimpered and moaned in my ear.
He kissed the back of my neck and shoulder as he slowly thrust into me. His weight on me, his breath hot in my ear and his teeth scraping my skin set my body on fire. I raised my ass to meet him, to give more of me to him, and his whole body convulsed when he came.
I’d never heard him moan like that.
He collapsed again on top of me, keeping his weight on me. He pulled out of me but continued to rock his hips a little and murmur, “Fuck, baby,” over and over.
Eventually we left the bed and showered, and Cooper ordered dinner. We sat on the lounge and ate our takeout, and he was telling me a funny story of something that happened at work. He made me laugh—like he always made me laugh—and I was still chuckling when I speared some of his lemon chicken and shoved it in my mouth.
When I looked up at him, he was quiet and looking at me funny. So with a mouth half-full of food, I said, “What’s wrong? I’m allowed to steal some of your dinner. You ate half of mine.”
He smiled slowly. “I love you.”
I almost forgot to swallow my food, and somehow managed not to choke. “Huh?”
“Do you need hearing aids, old man?” he said with a grin. “I said I love you.”
“No, I don’t need hearing aids,” I told him. Then I giggled. I think I even blushed.
Cooper leaned over the Chinese food and kissed me with smiling lips, then just carried on his conversation about his co-worker like nothing extraordinary had happened.
Except it had.
He loved me. He’d said so. Twice.
He told me he’d had one of the best days of his life, but he said he needed to go home—he had to be at work early and had no work clothes here. I called him a cab and kissed him at the door. “You could always move in,” I said again.
He rolled his eyes. “We’ve been through that,” he said and gave me a quick peck on the lips and walked towards the elevator with his suitcase.
“And you turned me down,” I called out down the hall.
He pressed the button. “I did,” he said, looking back at me with a cheeky grin. “Because you asked me all wrong,” he added, then stepped inside the elevator and the door closed.
I asked him all wrong. What the hell did that mean?
I gave him about twenty minutes to get home and settled, then I sent him a text.
What do you mean I asked you all wrong?
His response took less than a minute. Aren’t you in bed yet, old man?
I replied, I’m not old, thank you very much. But I won’t sleep if you don’t tell me.
Are you sore? Do you feel okay?
I’ve never felt better, thank you.
You’re very welcome. And thank you for a great weekend and an amazing day.
You didn’t answer my question.
You noticed.
Cooper, I need to know. How did I ask you wrong?
Because you didn’t ask me right.
You like to challenge me, don’t you?
You said it was one of the things you loved about me.
I smiled. It is.
Goodnight, Tom. WYWH.
I had to Google what the acronym was, and before I could reply, another message came through.
Did you just Google that?
Little smart ass. Shut up. Yes, I did. And you wouldn’t have to wish I was there if you moved in with me.
LOL Oh but Tom, you’re asking all wrong again.
I sighed. Goodnight Cooper.
Goodnight Tom. ILY.
Just as I smiled at my phone another message came through. That means I love you.
I gathered that much, smart ass.
I think we’ll need to work on your terms of endearment.
I shook my head and laughed. I doubted I’d ever win with him. ILY.
ILY2.
* * * *
Jennifer greeted me with her usual morning message update and the reassurance of hot coffee on my desk. Then she smiled warmly at me. “You look refreshed. I trust you had a good weekend?”
“My weekend was wonderful,” I told her.
“How was Sofia?” she asked. Jennifer knew everything there was to know about me, and she knew my ex-wife had met my boyfriend over the weekend.
“Well, she wasn’t overly impressed, no.” I shrugged, and said, “But we had a lovely time. Ryan loved his gift, so thank you for helping me with that.”
She smiled. “My pleasure.”
“Well, considering I had the weekend off, I’d better get to it,” I told her.
“Yes, looks like a busy week,” she said, back to her professional best. “I’ll give you twenty minutes to check emails and then we can discuss your weekly schedule.”
“Thank you, Jennifer,” I said, walking into my office.
I checked emails, responding to anything urgent, then Jennifer and I mapped out the next two weeks’ worth of appointments, meetings and deadlines. It was busy, and I knew there’d be work to take home.
Cooper was in the same predicament. His schedule was as busy as mine, though he’d bring work to my place instead of his and we’d work at my dining table. Most nights that week, we spent hours in a peaceful silence as we worked, though we’d stop for ‘intermission’ as Cooper called it. Which was dinner and sex.
Not always intercourse, but a blow job or mutual hand jobs on the sofa, sometimes too worked up to even get undressed. He was insatiable, completely voracious.
Not that I minded. Hell, I was starting to want it as much as he did.
We were getting cosy on the sofa when I told him of my busy schedule, how I’d be working most of the weekend to get a big contract finalised, and he said he didn’t mind. “I’ve got some work I can bring over,” he said. “I’ll be really quiet and won’t interrupt you, I promise.”
I threw my head back and laughed. “Oh, please,” I said. “You can’t help yourself. As soon as you get bored, I become a source of entertainment.”
He grinned, pushed me back on the sofa and proceeded to unzip my pants and lick and suck me, which proved my case exactly.
But on Saturday, when we’d been working for a few hours, he had his head down going over plans he’d bought with him and hadn’t interrupted me once. It was driving me insane. I wanted him to interrupt me.
And it was so typically Cooper to not interrupt me because I’d made a point of saying he would.
Always challenging.
By lunch time, I couldn’t stand it. I’d spent the last hour staring at him, trying to get his attention, and of course he knew. He was trying not to smile. When I got up from the table and pulled out his chair, swinging my leg over and straddling him, he burst out laughing.
“You’re such a tease,” I told him before pushing his head back and kissing him hard.
When I pulled my mouth from his, he licked his lips. “I wondered how long it would take,” he said smugly. “You’ve got some pretty good self-control.” He gripped my hips and rocked me on his lap. “It’s been killing me.”
I ground down on him. “Your self-control is apparently better than mine,” I told him, kissing him again. “Just take me to bed.”
I’d never imagined I’d bottom. I’d never imagined I’d want to. But giving myself to him that way was something special. The way he worshipped my body before sinking inside me, the way my body gave him pleasure was empowering.
Since declaring our love, sex was even more intense between us. Everything was more intense—conversations, laughter, touches and even the way we looked at each other.
I told Cooper that I’d spoken to my parents during the week. I’d promised I’d phone them and had arranged to drive up and see them next month. “I’m thinking I should tell them I’ve met someone,” I explained. It was early afternoon. We were in bed, naked, wrapped up in each other.
Cooper leaned up on his elbows to look at me. “You’re going to come out to them?”
I sighed. “I think so,” I said. “I want to tell them. I want to tell them I found someone who makes me happy, that I’ve never been happier.”
“But you’re worried about how they’ll react?” he asked.
“Yeah, of course,” I admitted.
“I’ll go with you,” he said with a kind smile.
“Would you?” I asked. “I mean, I’d love to have you by my side. I want them to meet you. But you certainly don’t have to.”
“I don’t have to. I want to.”
“Anyway, it’s a few weeks away,” I told him. “We’re both busy here, and we have that bloody concert next weekend,” I said, rolling my eyes. But then I rolled us over so we faced each other and ran my hands through his hair. “Is it crazy that I’m considering coming out to my parents?” I asked. “I mean, I’m forty-four years old!”
Cooper smiled. “Not at all, Tom. It’s not crazy. You still want their approval.”
“Well, I’m fairly certain I won’t get it,” I told him. “But I can hope, right?”
He pecked my lips. “Why are you doing it then?” he asked. “If you know they won’t approve and it will cause problems, and you said it yourself, you don’t need their approval, then why?”
“I don’t want any secrets with them. And I want them to know I’m happy,” I told him. “I’m not expecting them to be accepting of it, or even tolerable. They’ll more than likely choose to pretend I never told them and keep wishing I’ll get back with Sofia.”
Cooper snorted. “Maybe you should just tell them you’re gay first, before you drop the ‘oh, and I’m seeing a twenty-two-year-old’ bomb.”
I laughed and pecked his lips again. “I may as well hit them with both bombs. They won’t take it well no matter which I tell them.”
Cooper sighed and nipped at the skin on my chin. “Tom?”
“Yeah?”
“We’ll need to keep one weekend free,” he said. Then he bit his lip. “How’s your self-defence skills?”
I laughed. “Why?”
“I want you to meet my parents,” he said. “And I’m pretty sure your parents are gonna take it a helluva lot better than mine.”
Chapter Seven
Well, shit.
“They won’t like the idea, huh?”
“Um, your birthday’s in November, right?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Well, my dad’s birthday is December…”
It took me a second. “I’m older than your dad?”
Cooper laughed and nodded. “Is that weird?”
Weird. T
hat was one word to describe it. “Um, yes.” I didn’t know why it threw me so much. Our age difference had always been a glaring issue, but I’d come to accept it, ignore it. Yes, I was older than him. So what?
But I was also older than his father?
“Hey,” Cooper said, putting his hand to my face. “It doesn’t change anything.”
“Doesn’t it?”
“Does it change how you feel about me?” he asked calmly.
“No, of course not,” I said quietly.
“Then it doesn’t change anything.”
There wasn’t anything but absolute certainty in his hazel eyes. I smiled and asked him, “How did you get so wise?”
“I’m just smart like that.”
I kissed him with smiling lips. “You’re just smug like that.”
“It’s a Gen Y thing?”
“It’s a Cooper Jones thing,” I said. “Did you still want me to meet your parents?”
“Yes,” he said adamantly. “They know I’m seeing someone. They know it’s serious, and they know his name is Tom. But that’s all I’ve told them.”
“You told them about me?” I couldn’t help but smile.
“Of course I did,” he said simply. “Just not exactly who Tom was. But if we’re that serious, they should meet you.”
“Then I will meet them,” I told him. “Again,” I clarified, “because I met them years ago, but I was only Ryan’s dad back then, not their son’s boyfriend.”
Cooper chuckled. “They’re gonna freak.”
I rolled my eyes. “And this is funny because…?”
He sighed and rolled onto his back. “Well, it’s not really,” he said. “But what else can I do? I’ve fallen in love with you, and if gender doesn’t matter, then neither should age.”
I leaned up on my arm and stared at this remarkable man. “You’re incredible, you know that?”
He grinned at me. “Actually, yeah. I do know that.” Then he added, “But you can keep telling me.”
“I might have to write little notes, so I remember,” I told him seriously. “You know, my Alzheimer’s is getting bad.”