Lover At Last tbdb-11

by J. R. Ward

  Blay walked over, wending in and out of the bodies. When he got within range, he cleared his throat and spoke up over the din. “Hey—”

  That hand shot up above Qhuinn’s shoulder. “For the love of fucking God, I’m not interested, okay?”

  At that moment, the person on the left decided to vacate with whatever drink he’d ordered.

  Blay took the human’s place.

  “I told you to get the fuck—” Qhuinn froze in mid-blow-off. “What…are you doing here?”

  Okay, where to start with that.

  “Is there something wrong?” Qhuinn said.

  “No, no. Really, not anything…you know, wrong.” Blay frowned as he realized there was no alcohol in front of the guy. “Did you just get here?”

  “No, I’ve been hanging around for…couple of hours, I guess.”

  “You’re not drinking?”

  “I did when I first sat down. But then…yeah, no.”

  Blay studied that face he knew so well. It was so grim, with hollows under the cheekbones and a perma-frown that suggested the guy hadn’t slept in seven days, either.

  “Listen, Qhuinn—”

  “Did you come to apologize?”

  Blay cleared his throat again. “Yeah. I did. I’m—”

  “Right.”

  “What?”

  Qhuinn put his hands up and scrubbed his eyes…then stayed put with his palms covering himself from forehead to chin. He said something that didn’t carry, and that was when Blay knew something momentous had happened.

  Then again, the poor bastard had probably come to the realization that Blay was in fact not a saint.

  Blay leaned in closer. “Talk to me. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

  Fair, after all, was fair. He’d sure as hell unloaded everything on his mind when they’d last seen each other.

  “You were right,” Qhuinn said. “I didn’t know…I was…”

  When nothing else came, Blay’s ribs tightened up hard, his brows shooting sky-high as the gist hit him. Oh…my God.

  As shock went through his whole body, he realized he’d never expected the guy to come around. Even as he’d yelled those hard-core words, it had been more a function of finally snapping, rather than out of any expectation that they would sink in.

  Qhuinn shook his head, those hands staying in place. “I just…all those years, all that shit with them…I couldn’t face another strike against me.”

  Blay was more than aware of who the “them” was.

  “I did a lot of things to make it go away, to cover crap up—because even after they kicked me out, they were still in my head. Even after they died…still in there, you know. Always in there with the…” One hand made a fist and started banging his brain. “Always in there…”

  Blay caught that thick wrist and guided the male’s arm down. “It’s okay….”

  Qhuinn didn’t look at him. “I didn’t even know I was bending everything. I wasn’t, like, aware of the shit in my mind—” That deep voice caught. “I just didn’t want to give them another reason to hate me, even though they didn’t fucking matter. What the fuck is that, you know? What the fuck have I been thinking?”

  The pain that wafted out of Qhuinn’s body was so great, it changed the air temperature around him, lowering things until the hair on Blay’s forearms pricked from the chill.

  And at that moment, faced with the abject misery in front of him, Blay wished he could have taken what he’d said back—not because it wasn’t true, but because he wasn’t the one who should have ripped off that Band-Aid. Mary, Rhage’s shellan, should have done it as part of a therapy session or something. Or maybe Qhuinn should have gradually become aware of it.

  But not like this…

  The devastation that was written in every line of Qhuinn’s body, in the hoarseness of his voice, in the barely restrained scream that seemed to be just under the surface, was terrifying.

  “I never knew how much they got to me, especially my father. That male…he contaminated everything about me, and I didn’t even know it was happening. And it ruined…everything.”

  Blay frowned, not following that part. But what he was clear on was the juxtaposition between his parents and Qhuinn’s—not that he needed yet another reminder: All he could think of was that hug in front of the stove, his mom and dad wrapping their arms around him, their acceptance openhanded, honest, and without reservation.

  And here Qhuinn was going through this alone. In a club. With no one there to support him as he struggled with the legacy of discrimination he had been condemned to…and the identity he couldn’t change, and could no longer, seemingly, ignore.

  “It ruined everything.”

  Blay put his hand on that bunched-up biceps. “No, nothing’s ruined. Don’t say that. You are where you are, and it’s okay—”

  Qhuinn’s head cranked around, leaving its cage of the hand that had remained, his blue and green eyes red rimmed and watery. “I have loved you for years. I have been in love with you for years and years and years…throughout school and training…before transitions and afterward…when you approached me and yes, even now that you’re with Saxton and you hate me. And that…shit…in my fucking head locked me down, locked everything down…and it cost me you.”

  As the sound of screeching tires roared between Blay’s ears, and the world started to spin, Qhuinn just kept going. “So you’ll excuse me if I have to disagree with you. It is not okay—it will not ever be okay—and whereas I’m more than willing to live with the fact that I was a walking, talking lie for decades, the idea that it sacrificed what could have been between us…is absolutely, positively not okay to me.”

  Blay swallowed hard as Qhuinn went back to staring at the wall of liquor bottles behind the bar.

  Opening his mouth, Blay intended to say something, but instead he just ran that monologue through again from start to finish. Jesus Christ…

  And then something dawned on him.

  If I’m gay, why are you the only male I’ve ever been with.

  Suddenly, all of the blood drained out of Blay’s head as he deciphered the truth in the words he’d so grossly misconstrued. That meant…that that night when he’d…

  “Oh, God,” he said in a low voice.

  “So that’s where I am,” the fighter said gruffly. “You want a drink—”

  The words jumped out of his mouth: “I’m not with Saxton anymore.”

  EIGHTY-TWO

  Qhuinn wrenched his head around a second time. Surely he couldn’t have heard that…. “What…?”

  “I broke up with him, like, two weeks ago.”

  Qhuinn felt his lids blink a number of times. “Why…wait, I don’t understand.”

  “It wasn’t working. It hadn’t been working for a long time. When he came back that night after having been with someone else? We weren’t together, so he didn’t cheat on me.”

  For some insane reason, all Qhuinn could think of was Mike Myers saying, Ex-squeeze me? Baking powder?

  “But I thought…wait, you two looked really happy. It used to kill me every night to…yeah.”

  Blay winced. “I’m sorry I lied.”

  “Shiiiiiiit. I nearly killed him.”

  “Well, arguably you were being gallant. He knew that.”

  Qhuinn frowned and shook his head. “I had no idea you two weren’t…well, I already said that.”

  “Qhuinn, I have to ask you something.”

  “G’head.” Assuming he could focus at all.

  “When you and I were together…that night…and then you said you had never…you know…”

  Qhuinn waited for the guy to continue. When he didn’t, he had no idea what Blay was alluding—

  Oh, that.

  Qhuinn couldn’t believe it, but he felt his cheeks redden and warm. “Yeah, that night.”

  “Well, had you never…”

  Considering everything he’d just thrown out there, that little ditty seemed like a minor detail. Besides, the trut
h was the truth. “You are the first and only male I’ve ever been with like that.”

  Silence from the other guy. And then, “Oh, my God, I’m so sorry I—”

  Qhuinn jumped in, cutting off the unnecessary apology. “I’m not sorry. There is no one I’d rather have had taking my virginity. The first one you always remember.”

  Congratulations, Saxton, you lucky fucking cocksucker.

  Another long silence. And just as Qhuinn was about to check his watch and suggest they take a break from the awkwardness, Blay spoke up.

  “Aren’t you going to ask me why Saxton and I were never going to work?”

  Qhuinn rolled his eyes. “I know it wasn’t problems in the bedroom. You’re the best lover I’ve ever been with, and I can’t imagine my cousin felt any differently.”

  Fucking cocksucking son of a bitch Saxton.

  As he realized the other guy wasn’t saying anything, Qhuinn glanced over. Blay’s blue eyes had an odd light in them.

  “What.” Oh, for God’s sake. “Fine. Why wouldn’t it ever work out?”

  “Because I was, and I remain, utterly and completely and totally…in love with you.”

  Qhuinn’s mouth dropped open. As his ears began to hum, he wondered if he had heard that right. He leaned in closer. “I’m sorry, what did you—”

  “Hey, baby,” a female voice cut in.

  On the right side of him, a woman with enough cleavage to fill a pair of salad bowls pressed into his body. “How would you like a partner in crime—”

  “Back off,” Blay barked. “He’s with me.”

  Abruptly, Qhuinn’s spine straightened: It was amply clear from the cold blue fire spitting out of Blay’s eyes that the guy was prepared to tear the throat of that woman wide-open if she didn’t disappear quick.

  And that was…

  Awesome.

  “Okay, okay.” She put her hands up in submission. “I didn’t know that you were together.”

  “We are,” Blay hissed.

  As the woman with the formerly bright idea skulked off, Qhuinn turned to Blay, well aware that his shock was showing.

  “Are we?” he breathed to his former best friend.

  With the club music pounding, and a stadium full of strangers milling around them, with the bartender delivering drinks and the working girls working, with a thousand other lives rolling onward…time stopped for both of them.

  Blay reached forward and took Qhuinn’s face in his hands, that blue stare warming as it roamed around. “Yes. Yes, we are—”

  Qhuinn nearly jumped on the guy, closing the distance between their mouths and kissing the love of his life once, twice…three times—even though he had no fucking idea what was happening, or whether it was real or if his alarm was about to go off.

  After all the suffering, he was parched for the relief, even if it was just temporary.

  When he pulled back, Blay frowned. “You’re shaking.”

  Was it possible he wasn’t imagining this? “Am I?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t care. I love you. I love you so damned much, and I’m sorry that I wasn’t male enough to admit—”

  Blay stopped him with a kiss. “You’re plenty male enough now—the rest of it’s in the past.”

  “I just…God, I really am shaking, aren’t I?”

  “Yeah. But it’s okay—I’ve got you.”

  Qhuinn turned his face into one of the male’s palms. “You always have. You’ve always had me…and my heart. My soul. Everything. I just wish it hadn’t taken this long for me to man up. That family of mine…nearly killed me. And not just thanks to that Honor Guard of theirs.”

  Blay’s eyes drifted. And then his hands dropped.

  “What,” Qhuinn blurted. “Did I say something wrong?”

  Oh, God, he knew this was too good to be true….

  There was a long moment when Blay just stared at him. But then the male held out his palm. “Give me your hand.”

  Qhuinn obeyed instantaneously, as if Blay’s command ran his body more than his own brain did.

  When something slid onto his finger, he jumped and looked down.

  It was a signet ring.

  Blay’s signet ring. The one the male’s father had given him immediately after his transition.

  “You are perfect the way you are.” Blay’s voice was strong. “There is nothing wrong with who and what you have always been. I’m proud of you. And I love you. Now…and always.”

  Qhuinn’s vision got wavy. Hard-core.

  “I’m proud of you. And I love you,” Blay repeated. “Always. Forget about your old family…you have me now. I am your family.”

  All he could do was stare at the ring, seeing the crest, feeling the weight on his finger, watching how the light reflected off the precious metal.

  He had wanted one of these all of his life, it had seemed.

  And what do you know…as usual, as always, Blay was the one who had come through for him.

  As a sob ripped up Qhuinn’s windpipe, he felt himself get pulled in close to a big, powerful chest, strong arms wrapping around him and holding him. And then, from out of nowhere, a dark spice wafted up, the scent—Blay’s bonding scent—the single most beautiful thing that had ever been in his nose.

  “I’m proud of you, and I love you,” Blay said yet again, that old, familiar voice cutting through all of those years of rejection and judgment, giving him not just a rope of acceptance to hang onto, but a flesh-and-blood hand to lead him out of the darkness of his past….

  And into a future that didn’t require lies or excuses, because what he was, and what they were, was both extraordinary—and nothing out of the ordinary.

  Love, after all, was universal.

  Qhuinn closed his fist up tight, and knew he would never, ever take that ring off.

  “Always,” Blay murmured. “Because family is an always kind of thing.”

  Sweet Jesus, Qhuinn was sobbing like a pussy. But Blay didn’t seem to mind in the slightest—or judge.

  And that was the point, wasn’t it.

  “Always,” Qhuinn echoed hoarsely. “Always…”

  EPILOGUE

  TWO WEEKS LATER…

  Whereupon life was pretty frickin’ awesome.

  “So did you like last night?”

  As Qhuinn spoke into Blay’s ear, Blay rolled his eyes in the near darkness. “What do you think.”

  With their naked bodies under warm, weighty covers, Qhuinn was pressed in behind him, their arms linked, their legs entwined.

  Turned out Qhuinn was a snuggler. Who knew—and how fabulous.

  “I think you liked it.” Qhuinn licked his way up the side of Blay’s throat. “Tell me you liked it.”

  By way of reply, Blay flexed his spine and drove his ass right into the other male’s erection. The resulting groan made Blay beam.

  “Sounds like you were into it,” Blay murmured.

  “Fuck, yeah, I was.”

  The night before they’d both been off rotation, and after a workout in the gym and a pool game against Lassiter and Beth—which they’d lost—Blay had suggested they hit the Iron Mask for a very specific reason.

  As Blay remembered what had transpired after they’d gone back there, Qhuinn’s cock got into places where it was very much welcome…and Blay once again gave himself up to the delicious penetration and the slow, riding rhythm his mate established.

  The things that he recalled from the club just made everything hotter: The pair of them had gone over and sat at the bar and had a couple of drinks, Herradura for Qhuinn, and a couple of G&Ts for Blay. And then Qhuinn had gotten that look in his eye.

  And Blay had gotten down to business.

  He’d led the male back to one of the bathrooms, and as they’d gone inside together, it had been a fantasy come to life, the kissing, the hands in the pants, the frantic get-naked from the waist down….

  A moan came out of Blay’s mouth as what was happening, and what had happened, mixed, the erotic
cocktail taking him to the brink of an orgasm—and then, thanks to Qhuinn’s grip pumping him off, right over the edge, his cock coming hard into his lover’s hand, his body jerking and sending Qhuinn into a release as well….

  After a period of recovery, and a very satisfying round two, Qhuinn drawled, “Any chance you were thinking about that bathroom?”

  “Maybe.”

  “We can do that any night, if you like.”

  Blay chuckled. “Well, I guess we’re free again this evening, so…”

  The Brotherhood had been ordered to stay in, and as there had been no explanation in Tohr’s text, Blay figured it had to be a meeting with the king. The Band of Bastards and the glymera had been quiet for two weeks—no e-mails, no troop movements downtown, no phone calls. Never a good sign.

  Probably an update or a strategy session about that Council member’s death and its implications. Although Blay really couldn’t see any downside to Assail’s having killed the dumb son of a bitch.

  Bye-bye, Elan. P.S., Next time you implicate someone falsely, try to pick a pacifist.

  The prospect of a meeting made him think about Qhuinn’s integration into the Brotherhood—which had been seamless, as it turned out. The fighter’s behavior was no different, his attitude just the same. And that was one more reason to love the guy. Even with the elevated status he’d been given, he hadn’t let shit go to his head.

  And that teardrop tattoo that had been changed to purple on his face? Totally hot. Just like that new star-shaped scar on his pectoral.

  “We’re defo going to be doing that again,” Qhuinn said as he slowly retracted himself and rolled over on his back. Putting his arms above his head, he smiled and stretched, the far-off light from the bathroom illuminating things just enough so that Blay could make out the lift to those incredible lips. “That was fucking hot. You are totally fucking hot.”

  “What can I say, it’s been a fantasy of mine for a long time.” As Qhuinn got serious, Blay touched the male’s frown. “Hey. Stop that. Fresh slate, remember?”