by Tara Lain
Jake caved. Yeah, it would be lots easier. “Thanks, Roan.”
As Roan finished his call, giving instructions to the driver, Jake followed Joe Jack back to the table. Cal sat in the booth with his head and arms sprawled across the table. Crying? Asleep? Jake put his arm around the big shoulders. “C’mon, runt. Time to go.”
Cal raised a tearstained face. “You two are so bootiful together. I love to watch you. The way he looks at you…”
Jake felt the heat and tension behind him. He glanced. Roan gazed at Cal over Jake’s shoulder. Jake cringed. “Sorry.” Roan just shrugged.
Jake tugged at Cal, and Joe Jack stepped up beside him. “Let me, Doc.” Jake moved aside and watched the big guy manhandle Cal up onto his unsteady feet. Jake slipped under one arm, and Roan moved toward the other.
Joe Jack shook his head. “Thanks, gorgeous, but I got this.”
With slow and steady progress, they managed to half walk, half haul Cal through the crowded room toward the entrance. A lot of the men stopped their talking and dancing to watch their four-man procession. As they got to the door, the bartender walked up.
Damn, forgot. Jake put one hand on his pocket. “So, sorry, what’s his tab?”
The bald man grinned. “Hey, don’t worry about it, Doc. Whatever it is, it’s a tiny fraction of the value of telling customers that Roan Black came to my club. That’s pretty much priceless.” He smiled at the model, who nodded gracefully and shook his hand.
Jake kept trying to negotiate his wallet from his pocket. “I’d really like to pay for it.”
“No worries. Caleb comes here often, and he’ll work it out.”
“You should know he’s not quite old enough to drink yet.”
The bartender gave a look of excessive shock. “No kidding. Well, what d’ya know?” More seriously, he said, “He almost never drinks. But he was so miserable tonight, I guess the guys were ordering for him. When I saw how wasted he was, I cut him off and told him to call home.”
“Thanks.”
“You kidding? Come back any time.”
A small crowd had gathered at the door of the club as Jake and Joe Jack helped Caleb out into the freezing air. Roan was at the door of a big Mercedes town car, but before he could open it, a young man in jeans and a sport coat stepped up and grabbed the door. “Hey boss, doing my job?” Roan grinned and stepped aside.
Cal looked around with wide eyes. “Shit. Do I have a chauffeur taking me home? I’m gonna get drunk more often…”
Some of the men at the door applauded, and Caleb took a bow, almost falling on his face before Jake and the chauffeur caught him.
Jake pushed his brother toward the open car door. “Over my dead body. Get in.”
Cal sprawled across the seat, and Jake pushed his legs aside so Roan could get in beside him. “You sure about this, Roan? He’s pretty drunk. I could take him. I’d hate for him to get puke on your seats.”
Roan patted the big guy’s shoulder as he slumped on the seat. “He’s gonna be okay. Just give William your address, then lead the way.”
Jake instructed the chauffeur, then jogged to his car, hoping the exertion would warm him up a little. The heater in the old bomb took a while to get warm, and he didn’t want to keep Roan waiting, so he pulled out while he could still see his breath inside the Volvo. Adjusting his mirror, he made sure the town car fell in behind him. William had GPS in the car, but he didn’t want to lose them and run the risk of Roan arriving at his folks without him there. Jeez, who knew where that would lead?
* * *
Roan looked down at the recumbent giant on his car seat. Cal’s feet were on the floor, but his torso was flopped over with his head resting against the far armrest. Sweet kid. Great-looking too. Of course, that ran in the family. Roan rested his head back against the seat and closed his eyes.
So this was it. Over. Half of him wished he’d kept his mouth shut so he could still have Jake. But he knew that he’d never be happy with a relationship that couldn’t go beyond sex. Funny, people thought of gay men as promiscuous, but all he wanted was a home and family with someone he could love forever. Tears stung behind his eyes. Why couldn’t that someone be Jake?
“Thanks for getting me, Roan.”
Roan looked over at the gold-brown head, slightly raised, and with two blue eyes looking at him. Blue, like his brother’s.
“No problem. Didn’t know you’d double-teamed me, though.”
“Didn’t know it wazz a problem. Why’er you and Jake fighting? You’re so beautiful together.”
“We’re not fighting exactly. Never mind it, runt; go to sleep. I’ll wake you when we get to your house.”
“Sure looked like fighting to me.” His head fell back and conked the side of the car, and he rubbed it absently. “Sure did. I mean, I’m not that drunk that I don’t know when my brother is miserable and rotten unhappy. I mean, I know that much.” His finger stabbed the air in Roan’s general direction. “You got me? Did you make him miserable and rotten, Roan? You look like such a good guy. Did you, huh?”
“More like the other way around, Cal. Now give it up, okay?”
“I know aaalllll about making people miserable. Yeah, that’s me. I made Charlie miserable and rotten. So maybe I learned it from Jake, ya think? Maybe thash why I’m so good at it.” His head sagged on the armrest, eyes closed, and in seconds, Roan heard a soft snore.
Miserable and rotten unhappy? Did Jake really feel that way, or was he just relieved to be free of Roan and his expectations? Probably just miserable that he didn’t have a convenient ass to fuck.
No, that wasn’t fair. Jake cared for him; Roan knew that much. But not enough. Not enough. If Jake knew what Roan had done in Connecticut, he’d run so damned far, Roan would never see him again. Shit, why did he ever get involved with a straight guy? He knew better.
Roan heard the click of the intercom. “Roan, we must be there. Jake’s car is in the driveway.”
“Thanks, William. We’ll need a lot of help with Cal. He’s dead to the world.”
“Yeah, and dead weight.”
“You got that right.”
He felt the car come to a stop, but Cal didn’t stir.
Roan looked out the window at the simple Brooklyn row house. Neat front garden, mostly brown now in the winter cold. He made sure Cal’s jacket was buttoned tight and closed his own coat around him before opening the door. It was close to ten p.m., and the temperature had dropped a lot. As he got out, the front door of the house flew open, and Mrs. Martin raced out, wrapping a coat around what must be a housecoat underneath. Jake had gotten out of his car, and the woman threw her arms around him. God, that must be nice, to have a mom who cared what happened to you.
Jake and his mom walked over to the town car as Roan stepped out, leaving Cal slumped on the seat. William had circled the car. He reached in and began pulling Cal off the seat. “C’mon, buddy. You’re home. Give me a little help here.”
He got an “mpfft” for his pains, but Cal did seem to stir a little and started pushing himself out of the car. Jake moved over to assist, and they managed to get the big guy on his feet. Mrs. Martin took Roan’s arm.
“Thank you so much, Mr. Black.”
Roan patted her hand. “It was my pleasure, but you’re gonna have to call me Roan.”
She smiled up at him. “That would be my pleasure. I’m Lydia.” She looked back at her teetering youngest. “Is he okay?”
“He’s fine, Lydia. He slept all the way here, so he’s a little disoriented.”
“About one hundred sixty proof disoriented, I’d say. Jake, get him up to the daybed.”
With William doing a lot of the heavy lifting, they half led, half dragged Cal into the small, neat house. The stairs were a challenge, but after a lot of upper body exercise and a near fall, they managed to wrestle the big body into the small room at the end of the hall and onto a daybed. He draped over the end. Jake shook his head at his brother, who was now snoring softly again. H
e pointed to the queen-size bed occupying the other end of the room. “Why don’t we put him in the big bed, Mom? He fits better.”
“No, dear, you and Roan will sleep there.”
Roan froze. He glanced at Jake, who had just been rendered mute.
Lydia continued on as if she were discussing the weather. She smiled at Roan. “You will stay, won’t you, dear? It’s late for a drive back to the city, and I can’t begin to thank you properly for all you’ve done. Burt’s out giving a speech tonight, but I know he’ll want to thank you too. I know it’s not plush, but the bed is comfortable.”
What was the woman thinking? God, he needed to say no.
She looked at William. “Young man, we have room for you as well, if you don’t mind the couch in our family room.”
“Oh, thank you, ma’am, but actually my family lives not too far from here.” He turned to Roan. “Do you mind, Roan? My mom will be thrilled if I show up.”
Shit. What was he going to say, no? Roan stared at William’s open face. The driver knew Roan and Jake were lovers. After all, he’d driven him to Jake’s house. He must think Jake was out to his folks, because the guy sure didn’t seem to think this situation was unusual. “Sure, William, go see your folks. I want to know that Caleb’s okay anyway.” He peeked at Jake from the corner of his eye. Turned to stone. The guy’s mouth was slightly open, but nothing came out.
Lydia just went blithely on. “We have some of Jake’s old clothes around here that I expect will fit you, so you can both be comfortable in the morning. I expect nothing will wake Caleb for a long time.” Did Jake imagine the significance she gave the word nothing? “Sleep well, boys. And sleep in.”
She left. Roan stared at the closed door, feeling rather than seeing the tension in Jake beside him.
Jake’s voice sounded like he’d been gasping for air. “Why did you let this happen?”
Fuck! Roan turned on the other man, hands clenched at his sides, but still hissing through his teeth so as not to alert the entire house. “I don’t know, Jake. I’m sure I should have refused your mother’s request by telling her that her son doesn’t think he’s a fag and wants nothing to do with this flaming queen, and so I couldn’t let my driver visit his family because I have to get as far away from you as fucking possible as quickly as possible, so you can continue in your fiction that you only love a woman and just wanted to fuck my ass for scientific research, you bloody twit.”
By the end of the tirade, Jake was staring at him with his mouth hanging open. He dropped his face into his hands, shoulders shaking.
Shit, was Jake crying? Jake didn’t cry.
His beautiful scientist raised his face, and he had tears, all right. He was laughing hysterically while trying to be quiet. “Oh God, I love you. Scientific research. Jeez, you are great when you get mad.”
Roan stared at him for a second and then smiled. Okay, it was a little funny. “You may love me, Jake. Just not enough.”
Jake stopped laughing. “How do you know? What do you want from me, Roan?”
“What do want for yourself?”
Jake sat on the edge of the bed. “Shit, I wish I knew.” He looked up, the blue eyes pleading. “Can’t we just go to bed? Do I need to decide my whole fucking life right now?”
Did he? It might be a mistake, a huge one, but the desire to feel Jake curled around his back was just too great. “I guess not.”
“Go use the bathroom first. It’s two doors down. My toothbrush is the yellow one if you want to use it.”
Roan’s brain had trouble engaging. Finally, he sighed and headed down the hall.
Jake made a bathroom trip after Roan got back. Roan searched through the dresser and found some soft old pajama bottoms that looked like Jake’s size. He slipped them on. A bit roomy but still comfy, and nude wasn’t an option, in case Lydia decided to check on them. Jake noticed when he got back and found a pair for himself.
He chuckled. “You may think you’re protecting my mom, but you’re actually depriving her of the extraordinary privilege of seeing you naked. She may never forgive me.”
Cute. They crawled into bed, and, oh yes, after a moment’s hesitation, Jake spooned around his back. The pure bliss of it was like Christmas—exciting and comforting at the same time. But the tension in Jake’s body vibrated. Roan waited.
The murmur came. “What do you think my mom meant by putting us in the same bed?”
“Don’t know.” He almost said “love.”
“Maybe she’s just thinking we’re friends, so we won’t mind sleeping together. Ya think?”
Not bloody likely. “Could be.”
“Of course, straight guys don’t really like sleeping together that much.”
“You’d know.”
“Yeah.”
Roan felt his lover stew for a while, but gradually he quieted. Listening to Cal’s soft snores, Roan fell fast asleep.
Chapter Fourteen
With soft light shining against his eyes, Jake woke slowly. Mmm. Roan’s satiny skin. Hard buttocks. Jake’s morning erection, already at half-mast, sprang to attention. He opened his eyes. Shit. He was at home—in his brother’s old bed. Cal’s snores rumbled from the direction of the daybed. Probably really early on Sunday morning. His parents might be up, unless his mom and dad had decided to take advantage of the sleeping household to enjoy their favorite morning sex—randy devils.
Oh yeah, randy—he was curled around the silken back of the man he kept telling himself he could live without. His mind half believed it, but his body knew it was crap. He had an erection so huge it hurt, and it wanted to push itself straight into that gorgeous ass. Oh shit, he could feel it in his mind. The heat, the tight squeeze. Precum dripped from his cockhead.
Had to come. Couldn’t treat Roan like a piece of meat. The man deserved better, much better. Rolling onto his back, he reached into the pajama bottoms, grabbed his cock like a lifeline, and began to stroke. Oh yeah. Not Roan’s hole, but better than nothing. Gotta be quiet. Oh. If he closed his eyes and imagined—
A hand grabbed his wrist. Jake’s eyes flew open. Roan had turned on his back and was gazing at him. His other hand held a packet of lube. Jesus, where did that come from?
Jake shook his head and whispered, “No, you don’t deserve that, I—”
“Just do it, Jake. Or we’ll both die. Just do it.” He rolled to his side again, pulling down the pajamas and pressing those hard buttocks against Jake’s hip.
Fight over. Cock won. Jake unsealed the packet, gasping for breath in his haste. He wiped lube on his painful erection and worked some into Roan’s tight hole. Oh God, it was hotter than he remembered. Roan pushed back impatiently, and Jake pressed his cock into him, half listening to be sure his brother was still snoring. What if Cal woke up? Shit, he’d just get an eyeful, ’cause no way was Jake stopping.
Oh God, not stopping. He thrust hard and heard Roan’s deep moan. He tried to maintain some grip on sanity, but it felt so damn good. So good. He pushed deep again. There was nothing else like this. Thrust. Anywhere. Thrust. Only Roan. Thrust, thrust, thrust. Oh baby. Baby.
Didn’t want to come yet. Couldn’t scream. Couldn’t. Shit! With a muted cry, electricity shot up his spine, heat filled his head, and he shot cum into Roan’s exquisite ass. Roan was making little moaning noises but not pouring out his usual stream of loving obscenities. Jake missed it. He loved Roan’s dirty talk; it was so sexy. But in the interest of keeping Cal asleep, it was probably just as well.
He reached over Roan’s hip, tightened his hand around the big cock, and pumped wildly until he heard three little sputters and felt hot, sticky fluid pour across his palm onto the sheets. His mom’s sheets. Oh well, with a husband and three sons, it wasn’t anything she hadn’t seen before.
A deep, peaceful lassitude filled every cell, and he felt like he could melt into that silken back he curled around. He kissed Roan’s neck and felt him shaking.
What the f…? Was he crying? No, please, no. “Baby
, don’t cry, please.”
Roan just shook his head, but he didn’t pull away.
“Please don’t cry. Tell me what to do.”
The reply was muffled. “Nothing. Just go to sleep, Jake. I’m fine.”
Shit. Jake knew if he kept pressing, they’d get into the real issues. He wasn’t up for that. Couldn’t do it. He rested his head on Roan’s smooth back. The other man was quiet now. In the silence and heat and comfort, Jake drifted off to sleep.
When his eyes opened again, the light was brighter. His brother’s snores were still there, but the satiny skin was gone. Gone. Had Roan left? Was he crying because he knew he was leaving? That it was done? Over? Shit!
Not wanting to examine his own panic, Jake grabbed his glasses and jumped out of bed. He didn’t even try to be quiet, although Caleb looked like a revolution wouldn’t wake him. He pulled on some old jeans and a T-shirt, made a bathroom stop because he was desperate, and headed down the stairs barefooted. He peeked into the small living room and the den that his dad used as a TV room. Nobody. Roan must have called William and gotten the hell out of here so he didn’t have to face what an asshole Jake was.
Jake sat on the bottom step. What was he going to do? He’d done this. Something in his chest ripped.
Soft noises came from the direction of the kitchen. He knew his mom’s voice, but the deep, smooth answer? Shit, yes! He jumped up and headed through the little living room, with its well-used, comfortable furniture, and threaded past the big family table in the dining room toward the kitchen beyond. He heard laughter and peeked around the corner. They were both facing away, so they didn’t see him.
His mom leaned against the counter, smiling, as Roan, who was dressed in his favorite combo of jeans, T-shirt, and an apron, transferred an egg mixture from a large mixing bowl into a big frying pan.
Jake felt an odd mixture of relief, joy, and anger. The guy had scared his nuts off, and here he was, hanging out and cooking, like it was just another day. He stepped back and pressed against the wall. Unreasonable much? What the fuck do you want, Martin?