Resolved to tell his boyfriend the truth, Ken took out his spare key and entered.
“I was wondering what the hell took you so long to come in.” Dirk’s deep voice made him freeze.
Seeing Dirk seated on the couch, wearing nothing but the bear-printed midnight blue boxers that Ken had gifted to him as a gag, stunned him into silence. Dirk’s erection clearly poked through the thin fabric, tempting him. Ken licked his lips, aware of his own thickening cock, straining against his jeans. They eyed each other with equal hunger. Ken knew where this would go.
Why had he lingered outside so long again?
“Sometimes I can’t believe I’m one lucky guy,” Dirk said.
“You bet your sweet ass you are.”
“Fuck, but I miss you. Come here.”
Two simple words, but the effect wasn’t lost on Ken. The last of his resistance crumbled away. How would a blind asshole like Warren throw all this away?
Ken advanced on Dirk, their gazes locked. His skin flushed. He bumped Dirk’s knees, but before he could straddle them, his boyfriend hooked his fingers into Ken’s belt loops.
“No clothes.”
Ken chuckled. “Demanding boyfriend.”
“I don’t want anything in the way while I touch what’s mine.”
“You mean this poor little stripper boy with a heart of gold who only wants to be loved?” Ken innocently batted his lashes at Dirk.
Dirk yanked down his jeans in answer. Helping him along, Ken pulled off his shirt, and peeled away the last remnant of clothing. They’d done this ritual plenty of times, but it never got old. Dirk looked at him the same, as if he was drowning and Ken was oxygen, as if Dirk couldn’t believe Ken was his, when it was the other way around.
“No fair. You need to be naked, too,” Ken insisted.
“That can be arranged.” Ken got Dirk out of the boxers. “By the way, I love how these look on you. I never thought you’d wear them.”
“You bought them for me,” Dirk answered, as if that explained everything. “Besides, your expression was worth it.”
“Enough talk.”
“You’ve read my mind.”
Ken straddled his lap, knees on the couch, his prick pressing against Dirk’s six-pack abs. Yummy. Sometimes, Ken didn’t know where to put his hands and mouth first, like a damn buffet.
“So tense today,” Dirk murmured.
He put one hand around Ken’s waist to make sure he wouldn’t fall, while he used the other to stroke Ken’s spine. Not pressing too hard, Dirk massaged his back until his muscles unknotted.
“God. I needed that,” Ken muttered.
“Did something happen at work?” The genuine concern in Dirk’s voice pulled Ken back a little.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
Dirk frowned. “Did someone hurt you?”
A simple question, but one Ken had no answer to. “Please, baby.”
He trailed his fingers up Dirk’s ribs, then fingered his left nipple. He rested his palm over Dirk’s heart, feeling calm beats unlike his own, which started on a staccato rhythm. Ken must have been a poor liar, or Dirk had gotten better at reading him.
Gripping his hands, Dirk frowned. “Tell me.”
“It’s nothing. I rather do something else. Get lost in you.” Bolder, Ken leaned forward, mashing their lips together. Dirk responded—their kiss a tangle of tongue and teeth, the way Ken loved.
Pulling away, Dirk eyed him. Ken panted, closed in once more to plant kisses down Dirk’s jaw and neck and made their cocks rub against each other.
The motion left smears of his pre-cum on Dirk’s flat belly. Shit, but that turned Ken on. Dirk loved leaving his marks on him also, especially on nights when Ken didn’t need to dance the next day. Ken liked doing the same.
Dirk groaned. “You’re distracting me, baby.”
Baby. Ken couldn’t forget he’d used that term of endearment the first time they met to tease Dirk, to see if he could get a reaction out of him. The word meant something infinitely more now. “I need you in me. Own me.”
“Fuck,” Dirk hissed, pressing him close. “You undo me.”
Ken grinned at that. Nice to know he wasn’t the only one affected. “I’ll tell you tomorrow.”
Dirk gripped the back of his head, tangling his fingers into Ken’s hair and giving it a tug. The pain conflicted with the pleasure of their bodies rubbing together, providing an edge Ken craved. “You’d better.”
“I will.”
“Now that’s settled, tell me what I can do to make you feel better.”
“Put that fat cock in me.”
Dirk shook his head, but his eyes held amusement. “You want to talk dirty?”
“I don’t want to talk. I need to fuck.” Shamelessly, Ken rubbed his body against Dirk, letting their chests, bellies, and dicks touch again. He knew Dirk wouldn’t hold out long.
“Tell me how you want me to fuck you then,” Dirk commanded.
“Rough. Hard. Give until it hurts so good.”
“There you go again with the porn lines.”
“Admit it. They turn you on, too.”
“They fucking do.” Dirk took his lips again, this time not holding back. Holding Ken’s shaft captive, Dirk thumbed away the pre-cum on his slit. Dirk released his lips, then relaxed his hold on Ken. “Show me how much you want my cock, baby.”
Knowing what to do, Ken scooted off Dirk’s lap and knelt between his legs, then let out an appreciative whistle at his curving member.
Dirk laughed. “Stop that.”
“Why? I appreciate fine things.”
Settling on his heels, Ken began his blow job. Dirk threaded fingers into Ken’s hair, urging him close. He loved giving his baby head. Sometimes, holding Dirk’s most intimate parts in his mouth was better than sex.
Well, on occasion anyway. Sex would always be mind-blowing. Despite knowing what pushed Dirk’s buttons, Ken didn’t tease tonight. Thanks to his recent brush with danger, a strange urgency took hold of him tonight.
Dirk gave his hair a tug. “Enough.”
Ken pulled his mouth out of Dirk’s prick. “Fuck me?”
Dirk grabbed his arm and helped him up. “Get the lube.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.”
That got another sexy laugh from Dirk. They’d dispensed with condoms several days earlier after both of them came back clean from tests. Now, Ken practically ran to the bathroom to retrieve the lube. Then a little voice in his head told him to check the top drawer of the dresser beside the bed to see if the infernal piece of metal was still there.
“He wants you. The ring no longer means anything to him,” he whispered.
The words didn’t have the intended effect, but Ken shook it off. Bringing up the ring now when he couldn’t even tell Dirk about Miguel seemed petty.
Back in the living room, Ken found Dirk where he’d left him. Taking position on Dirk’s lap again, Ken handed him the lube.
“Arms around my neck,” Dirk instructed, unscrewing the bottle top.
Ken obeyed, sighing when Dirk touched the tip of his hard prick with a slick finger, and dragged it down to reach his puckered hole. Impatient, Ken wiggled on Dirk’s lap.
“Behave,” Dirk chided, nipping at his ear.
“I’ll try, but boy, honey bear, why do you make things so hard?”
“I love your ass and seeing you squirm.”
Ken’s heart hammered. Calm the fuck down. Dirk never said he loved you, merely your ass.
Had Ken ever been this needy?
Dirk pushed a finger inside him, then a second, widening Ken for his access. Eagerness rode Dirk tonight, too, it seemed, which suited Ken fine.
Thoroughly lubed, Ken begged. “Please.”
Smiling, Dirk rubbed his cock head against Ken’s entrance, marking the territory he was about to claim. Dirk thought he owned Ken’s body, never realizing Ken’s heart came with the package, too. Love was like this, then. Wonderful one moment, and agonizing the n
ext, like punctured lungs. Ken could never open his mouth to say those three words, though, the only ones that mattered.
Damn Warren for ruining Dirk, for hindering his ability to trust again. Dirk once confessed to Ken he was terrified of where all this was going, that he might not be ready. Ready for what? Ken had asked. Collision. Damage. Those were Dirk’s answers, as if already expecting them to fail. That hurt a little bit, but Ken swore to change all that.
“Take me, baby. Ride me.”
Gripping Ken’s hips, Dirk guided his cock into his entrance. Not pausing or slowing down, Dirk delivered as promised, sheathing himself fully inside until his balls touched Ken’s ass. The burn of Dirk’s entry took Ken’s breath away for a second.
This was agony, ecstasy. Love.
“Ken, talk to me.” Dirk phrased it as a command, not a statement.
“I’m fine, make me fly.”
Grinning, Dirk began hammering in and out of him. Ken buried his head against the curve of Dirk’s shoulder, biting down on skin, tasting the salt of Dirk’s flesh. They alternated between sweet and poignant moments to rough and dirty ones, letting their bodies do all the talking.
Sex with Dirk was as memorable as the mornings Ken woke up to an empty bed and the smell of eggs and bacon wafting through the apartment. He didn’t need to pad to the kitchen. Dirk would return, breakfast tray in hand, containing two plates and two mugs of coffee. Ken wondered when it would stop.
What happened after two weeks, a month, or a year together? Would they last that long, and if they did, when would the honeymoon period end?
Shit. Thinking about things like that during sex was a no-go.
Dirk growled in his ear. “Your thoughts are a hundred miles away, which means I’m not doing my job.”
“Faster,” Ken uttered, breathing hard.
Holding him tight, Dirk picked up the pace of his thrusts. Each time their body collided, Ken forgot about everything except their intertwined flesh. Two bodies, one soul—he understood that each time Dirk took his lips, put his hands on his body.
With every act of tenderness from Dirk, Ken realized they were heading into uncharted territory.
Dirk must have changed the angle of his thrust, because his next entry sent Ken’s head reeling and coaxed a gasp from him.
“Do that again, please.” Ken didn’t need to ask. Dirk aimed for the spot repeatedly.
“Touch yourself while I fuck you.”
“You’ll make me come at those words.”
“Not without my permission,” Dirk said.
Both of them panted. So cocky, but Ken liked it. He began pumping his prick. Up and down, faster and faster.
“I’ll try.”
“Don’t try. Do.”
“Shit, baby. Stop making this harder.”
“Let me see you come undone. Do it now.” Dirk pushed into him once more.
Ken urged his inner muscles to clamp down on Dirk’s member. The pressure building inside him broke, and the room fell away. Screaming his orgasm, Ken emptied his balls. Strings of cum coated Dirk’s belly and ribs.
Look, baby. I mark what’s mine, too. You’re growing on me.
Growling, Dirk thrust into him several times before erupting, emptying his seed inside Ken’s waiting hole. Ken slumped against Dirk, aware of the softening prick inside him.
“Fuck,” was all Dirk said, summing up their evening.
“Yeah,” Ken mumbled, running his hand up Dirk’s chest. “I love how big, solid, and warm you are, honey bear. I won’t ever need a blanket if I’m with you.”
I love you and I’m fucking terrified of losing you. Ken wondered if he’d ever had the courage to say what he really felt out loud.
“A blanket? Is that how you see me?” Dirk teased.
Ken curled against him a little closer, enjoying Dirk’s hand on his back again.
“Don’t talk. Let’s lie like this a while.”
Ken didn’t want tomorrow to come, to break apart what they’d already built. His mind took him to a week ago, when they first ended up in a tangle of each other’s limbs, just like this. Dirk had said he had a few rules. Never lie. Don’t cheat. It sounded simple enough to promise then.
“Okay, baby. Fine with me.”
Chapter Ten
Ken woke to the sound of arguing voices outside the bedroom. After rubbing at his eyes, he snuck a peek at the alarm clock. Seeing the clock confirm it was the ungodly hour of seven in the morning, Ken was tempted to go back to sleep. Dirk’s pissed off voice and the voice of another man, however, lured Ken back to the land of the living.
“You should return the copy of my key,” Dirk accused.
Careful not to alert Dirk, Ken pulled the sheets off him and crept toward the door, pressing his ear against the wood.
“Well, answer me this. Why didn’t you change the locks?” the other man demanded. When Dirk didn’t answer, the guy continued, “That’s right, hon. You were waiting for me to come home, weren’t you?”
“You made it clear I’m out of your life, Warren. And I have no interest in you walking back into it. Give me your key, get the rest of your stuff, and fuck off. Never bother me again.”
Shit. Dirk’s voice started to become uneven, to lose its cool—never a good sign. While Dirk never lost his temper with Ken, he’d seen the way Dirk nearly lost it when a stranger approached their table while out on a date. He’d been a fan of Diesel’s, and didn’t see Dirk sitting across from Ken. The guy had propositioned Ken. When Dirk told him to fuck off, the stranger eyed him and told Dirk he could join them. The next thing Ken knew, Dirk had a hand around the guy’s throat, ready to crush his windpipe.
Now, after fumbling for his boxers on the floor and putting them on, Ken left the room. His skin flushed when Dirk sought his gaze and extended a hand toward him. Ken flashed a smirk at Warren and let Dirk pull him close. Warren narrowed his eyes, scanning him from top to bottom.
“Dirk, who the fuck is this? Looks familiar, but I can’t place him.” Knowledge lit Warren’s eyes. His expression turned ugly. “You rent strippers now, or didn’t this twink tell you what he was?”
“Baby, this is your ex?” Ken asked, mirroring Warren’s attitude. If Warren thought he could scare Ken off with a glare and a couple of venomous words, then the man didn’t know who the hell he was dealing with.
Dirk nodded, as if he didn’t trust himself to speak.
Well, fine with Ken. He had plenty of ammunition. “Oh, Dirk knows what I do for a living. Loves me for it, too, because while I dance for my customers night after night, my baby knows it’s only him I want. At least I don’t go around fucking my gym trainer in secret.”
Warren colored and looked to Dirk. “You told your boy toy about us?”
At those words, Dirk growled, the sound making both Ken and Warren jump. “If you intend to get out of my apartment alive, Warren, you’ll fucking apologize to my boyfriend.”
Ken startled at those words. In private, Dirk whispering “my boyfriend” to him sounded intimate, special, but part of him wondered if Dirk ever meant it outside the bedroom. Now Ken knew.
Fear crossed Warren’s features, but Ken had a feeling a piece of shit like Warren didn’t scare easily. “You’re serious.”
“I never joke around when it comes to Ken,” Dirk said. “Don’t make me warn you again. Take your crap and leave. Don’t show your face here again.”
Shaking his head, Warren picked up a box. Ken had seen its contents once; he had pawed through it when Dirk was asleep. Unwarranted jealousy had filled him. Each of the objects in that box had been attached to memories, good and bad. Dirk and Warren had history, while Ken was only beginning to write his story with Dirk.
“Why him? Did you pick some young pretty boy to make me jealous?” Warren asked.
Dirk shook his head. “Not everything is about you, Warren. Let me explain in simple terms. Ken’s mine. I’m his. You’re my past and he’s my future.”
Before he left, Warren threw
Ken a dirty look. An ugly smile appeared on his lips. “Don’t smirk at me like that, you little shit. Tell me, does my ex-husband still have his wedding ring?”
Heart sinking, Ken didn’t answer. Something inside him splintered at those words, and hearing them from Warren’s lips confirmed the truth. Dirk might hold affection for him, but Dirk had only one space for a man in his heart.
Warren nodded, face triumphant. He tossed away the spare key, the piece of metal landed on the carpet. “Be happy together.”
After Warren slammed the door, Ken pushed away Dirk.
“Don’t be like that. You know he said those words to hurt me,” Dirk began, reaching for Ken, who shoved away his hand.
“Hurt you?” Ken croaked, starting to laugh and meeting Dirk’s gaze. “Do you know what it’s like, always seeing that fucking ring in the bedside table drawer?”
“It’s just a piece of metal, Ken. Stop overreacting.”
“You think I’m being dramatic? Every time I look at that thing, I see how fiercely you loved him, and wonder if you’ll ever feel the same toward me.”
“I’ve been nothing but honest with you,” Dirk protested, growling when Ken began back-peddling into the bedroom. “Where are you going?”
“Out. I need some air.”
“Dan called me last night, minutes before you came home. And because I fucking missed you, I decided to ask you about it later. I told myself ‘Ken will tell me about it anyway.’”
Stumped, Ken whirled, eyes narrowed. “You know about Miguel?”
“Why didn’t you tell me when you came home? I asked what was wrong, gave you every opportunity to ’fess up.”
Ken let out a hysterical laugh. Walking up to Dirk, he stabbed a finger at his chest. “Don’t fucking turn this argument around. Every time I mention that ring, you evade, or change the topic. The worst is when you promise me ‘tomorrow I’ll get rid of it,’ but never do.”
“You lied to me.”
“Which is worse, honey bear? A white lie or making promises you can’t keep?”
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