Irons and Works: The Complete Series

by E M Lindsey

  “No,” Rowan said. His name was called, and he grabbed the bags from the cashier, then led the way back to his car. James watched as Rowan ducked into the back seat to set the food down, but before he could climb into his own, he was tugged back and turned around.

  “Can I kiss you again?” Rowan asked.

  James still didn’t understand why Rowan wanted this, but he wasn’t about to turn down a repeat of the kiss at the shop. He felt bolder, braver as he set his hand against the side of Rowan’s neck. “Yes.”

  Rowan grinned, then used his thumb to pull down on James’ chin, parting his lips before claiming them. It was a little more desperate this time, a little more forward without the hesitance that James might break if Rowan pushed too hard. James felt his entire body flood with heat, his dick going instantly stiff in his jeans, and he thrust his hips out, aching for friction.

  His body was operating on instincts his brain didn’t fully understand, but before he could get too caught up and panicked, Rowan was pulling away. “Thank you,” he murmured against James’ lips.

  James, eyes still closed, hummed and nodded. “We should get back to my place. Like…yesterday.”

  Chapter Seven

  Rowan let out a small hum, kissing the corner of James’ mouth as they stood outside Rowan’s car in James’ driveway. James felt a little off kilter, but he used the door to balance himself as he looked at the other man right in front of him. He’d caught Rowan staring at him a few times as they made their way down James’ beaten road, but neither of them had said anything until they pulled up in the driveway.

  “You live alone, right?” Rowan asked.

  “Kind of?” James said, shifting his weight from one side to the other. He was sore still, but steadier than he had been over the last few days, and he was glad the injury wasn’t worse because he couldn’t really afford to take time off. He waited for Rowan to grab the bags, then he led the way to the door. “I rent my guesthouse to this Canadian dude. He doesn’t really come around much.”

  “Hmm,” Rowan said as they walked inside, and he dumped the bags on the coffee table.

  “Is that like a deal breaker?” James asked. He hovered awkwardly near the hall, wanting desperately to shower, but also wanting to ensure that when he came back, Rowan would still be there.

  The lawyer blinked up at him, a little startled. “What? No, just…I thought it might be fun to play around outside of the bedroom sometime, but you have a lot of windows.”

  James frowned, then realized what Rowan meant and he laughed. “He’s blind, so I think we’re good. He’s also really chill about not coming over when I have guests. He knows you’re here.” James’ heart began to thud a little though, once he realized what Rowan was really asking. He wanted to fuck James in the open, to play with boundaries a little.

  James might not have experienced it, but he definitely wasn’t turned off by the idea. Clearing his throat, he rubbed at the back of his neck. “I’m going to shower. The uh…the list is on the table. First page of that little notebook, if you want to glance over it. I won’t be long.”

  Rowan gave him a heated, significant look as he nodded. “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Something unknotted in James’ chest, and he quickly made his way to the bedroom, closing the door with a firm click. He took a few seconds to gather himself, then grabbed a clean pair of sweats and a t-shirt and moved into the bathroom.

  Sitting on the edge of the tub, he pulled off his jeans and boxers, tossing them to the corner along with his filthy work shirt, then stretched out to remove his legs. His cock sat between his thighs, still half-hard and more interested than it had been in a long while. Closing his eyes, he felt back with one hand to brace himself on his shower chair, and used the other to curl around his length. He didn’t want to orgasm yet, but he wanted to feel this. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been this worked up by another person before, and he wanted to know if touching himself would feel different.

  Pleasure sparked to life, making his cock go fully hard, and his balls tightened a bit. He was too close, the edge right there. Just a few strokes and he’d probably spill, and he told himself not to be embarrassed.

  “Maybe I should rub one out,” he muttered to himself as he turned on the water and slid onto his chair. He ripped the curtain closed, then scooted so the water rained down on his chest. His cock was still hard, starting to leak at the tip, and he couldn’t stop feeling the way Rowan’s tongue had plunged into his mouth, dragging along his own, velvet-soft and warm in ways he hadn’t expected.

  Absently grabbing for the soap, James scrubbed at the grease, watching it drain off him in small, black swirling rivers. He purposefully ignored his cock, but every time he let himself think of how it felt when Rowan pushed their bodies together, he felt himself swell and twitch.

  Eventually, he couldn’t take it. His hand drifted low, cupping his balls before dragging up and stroking himself in a firm grip. His foreskin made the slide easier, the soap slicking the way. He’d never careened toward the edge this fast, and he had to brace himself with one hand against the wall as his body nearly bent in half as he came. His dick spurted over his knuckles, the fluid thick and sticky, and his breath was coming in heaving gasps as his heart thundered against his ribs.

  “Fuck,” he muttered with a trembling laugh. If this was what the thought of Rowan did to him, what would the man’s actual hands be like? Even trying to imagine it had his dick attempting to harden again, and he realized that at the very least, he’d have no problems performing for the other man.

  At least, so long as his anxiety didn’t get in the way.

  James scrubbed off once more, making sure he was as clean as he could get. He even used his little nail brush, though it didn’t do much to the permanent black marks etched into his hands. He didn’t think Rowan would mind much, and he smelled clean—like citrus and sea salt—so it would have to be good enough.

  Sliding to the edge of the tub, James toweled off, then stared at his legs and clothes. Normally, he wouldn’t have bothered getting back into them. Casual night like this, he’d use his chair and lounge on the couch, and it was no big deal. But without his legs, he felt dependent, and as much as he wanted to trust Rowan, the guy was still a stranger.

  Maybe someday. Even if Rowan made it clear he wasn’t going to be around long, there was a chance James might drop his guard a little more. For now, though, this would have to be enough. He winced as he stood up, his knees not thanking him for the too-short break, but he didn’t think they’d be getting overly athletic just yet.

  Checking his phone, he saw his shower had lasted fifteen minutes, which wasn’t an eternity, but he hadn’t meant to leave Rowan out there on his own for that long. Giving himself a last glance over, James hurried out into the living room and found Rowan sitting on the sofa with a glass of tea in his hand, bare feet propped up on the edge of the coffee table.

  He looked up when James entered, and dropped his legs down, sitting forward. “You look more relaxed. Was it a busy day?”

  James breathed out, shrugging as he moved around the table and sat. “I was doing some restoration work on an old Chevy and it was a fuckin’ mess.”

  Rowan chuckled. “But I have a feeling you loved it.”

  James shrugged, unable to help his smile, even as he reached for a plastic container that looked like Alfredo. Rowan followed suit, making James feel a little better about eating, and he swirled some of the noodles around with his fork. “I like projects. At my old orthotist’s office, there was a guy there who was really into motorcycles. He was a double amputee like I was, and he was modifying a bike to rely solely on hand controls. It kind of inspired me, once I got the shop up and running.”

  “You ride?” Rowan asked, eyebrows up.

  James laughed. “Yeah. Trust me, backwoods Georgia? There wasn’t a lot to do besides tear-ass through the fields on dirt bikes. I was knee-high first time I crashed one. I loved it.”

 
; “So, you have a bike?” Rowan pressed.

  James couldn’t help his smile. “Why do I get the feeling you like that idea?”

  “Because I do. I think it’s hot as hell,” Rowan confessed with a shy smile. “Does yours work?”

  “Not yet,” James told him. “I mean, it works just fine on its own, but I’m still getting controls sorted out. If you’re around when I get it on the road, how about you be my first ride?”

  Rowan licked the corner of his lip where a bit of sauce had smeared, and he gave James a pointed look. “I’d like that.”

  James felt his neck heat, the flush creeping into his cheeks, and he forced himself to look away. “It’s a deal then.”

  There was a long, tense silence before Rowan set his food down and cleared his throat. “I looked at your list.”

  James closed his eyes, feeling a rush of embarrassment. It had been hard enough to make the damn thing, but knowing Rowan had read it—getting ready to talk about it—he wasn’t really sure he had the strength. “Most of it’s probably stupid.”

  “None of it was stupid,” Rowan said. The heat in his voice had James opening his eyes and looking over. “I think it was…I think it was well put together,” he said, like he was trying to come up with the right thing to say. “I think it shows someone who knows what they want, even if they don’t have the right words for it, and I think it’s a great jumping off point.”

  James startled, flushing hard, and he blew out a puff of air as he set his food down. “I’m scared that since I waited so long, I’m always going to be a freak,” he confessed. He didn’t tense when Rowan shifted closer to him and laid a hand on his thigh. In fact, he let himself press into Rowan’s side, their fingers tangling together. He let out a trembling breath when Rowan’s thumb drew a lazy pattern against his skin. “I’m scared my old bastard of a father ruined this for me, and I’ll never really be able to enjoy sex.”

  “I don’t think that’s true,” Rowan said. He reached up, brushing his thumb against the corner of James’ mouth. His lips parted, a rush of hot air escaping his lungs, and Rowan pressed against his mouth a little harder. “I think, once you realize how beautiful pleasure can be, there can’t really be sin in it.”

  James swallowed and forced himself to meet Rowan’s gaze. “Do you believe in God?”

  Rowan glanced up at the ceiling, and James almost laughed. It was such an automatic reaction he’d seen from so many people when he asked them that very same question. But Rowan didn’t look nervous or uncomfortable. He just looked thoughtful. “I haven’t given it much thought. When I was younger, I was taken away from my home and people told me to be grateful for what I had, that it was God’s plan. I had a lot of anger because I couldn’t understand why a God who was supposed to love me would take me away from the only mom I’d ever known.”

  James swallowed thickly. “Your mom… What happened to her?”

  “Her situation was a lot like Sam’s,” he told James in a soft voice. He didn’t pull back, but there was a new tension there that wasn’t before. “Except she didn’t have anyone to fight for her, and so she lost. They took me because she was different. Eventually I realized that if there is a God, this,” he waved his hand in a half-circle, “has nothing to do with him. This is our chaos. I don’t think I could ever believe God cares where I put my dick.”

  James laughed, the sound as tense as he felt, and he used his free hand to scrub at his eyes. “I wish it were that easy for me.”

  “It might be, someday,” Rowan told him. He moved his hand to James’ shoulder and pulled him as close as they could manage with the way they were sitting. “For now, you just need to let yourself feel. Good and bad. The one thing I do believe is that there’s a balance to nature, and for all the pain, there needs to be equal amounts of pleasure.”

  “My father would tell you the pleasure comes in the form of eternal life, after death,” James argued weakly.

  Rowan let his hand fall to James’ thigh, dragging it up toward where James’ cock was rapidly filling once more. “I don’t think there’s any reason we’re capable of such ecstasy if we’re not meant to feel it. Would you like me to touch you?”

  James nodded, but he stopped Rowan’s hand before it could move too close. “Not out here, though. I don’t know why, but I think I’d be more comfortable in my room.”

  Rowan gently pulled his hand away, nodding. “Of course.” He stood and gave James a hand up. “Lead the way.”

  James felt a thrill when Rowan didn’t let go as he started walking. His legs felt heavy and clumsy with his nerves, but he managed to keep his gait steady as he pushed open his bedroom door and led the way in. The room was humid from his shower, and a little warm, but he found he didn’t mind it so much. Not when Rowan was right there at his back.

  “Sorry, it’s not super clean,” James told him, an automatic response since he wasn’t the most organized person in the world.

  Rowan just laughed, coming around to face James, and he cupped the side of his neck with a warm, soft palm. “I don’t care. It smells nice. It smells like you.” He leaned his head in, mouth so close their lips brushed when he spoke. “I like it.”

  “Are you always this charming?” James asked, trying to diffuse his anxiety with humor.

  Rowan hummed and brought his other hand to James’ waist, fingers digging into his side with easy pressure. “Am I charming?”

  At that, James rolled his eyes, but he didn’t get a chance to argue back because Rowan carefully urged him into a kiss. It wasn’t deep like before, Rowan almost nuzzling his mouth with tiny nips and just the barest hint of tongue. James felt his body give into it, his arms going lax as his fingers curled into the sides of Rowan’s shirt. He felt himself walked backward a handful of steps until he met resistance, and he knew it was his bed.

  “Your list said you wanted to start with touching,” Rowan murmured. “I think that’s a very smart way to begin.”

  “Yeah?” James breathed out, aware of how out of his depth he was. His fingers were starting to shake a bit, and his heart began to beat faster.

  Rowan pinched James’ chin, almost like he could sense the where he was headed, and he drew his attention in to a singular focus—his eyes. “I’d you like to undress me, and I’d like to undress you. I want to put my hands on you, and maybe my mouth, and I’d like to make it feel good.”

  James swallowed thickly, a little afraid, but growing bolder as he became aware that Rowan wasn’t going to push him or surprise him into anything. “And if I want to touch you?”

  “You have total freedom over my body,” Rowan said in a low voice. “Anywhere you want to touch, any way you want to touch.”

  James’ brows rose. “If I wanted to spank you?”

  Rowan’s cheeks pinked and he cleared his throat. “Trust me, I don’t think there’s much I’d say no to with you.”

  James was startled by that, and a little intimidated at how much power that gave him. But he was also emboldened, and he found his want start to eclipse his fears. “Okay,” he said, then nodded firmly. “Okay.” His hands went right to the hem of Rowan’s shirt, and he dragged it up, a slow motion, pulling it over his head. His stomach twisted in the best way at the sight of Rowan’s mussed hair and crooked smile, the easy way he looked at James like nothing in the world mattered.

  “Now you?” Rowan asked. When James nodded, Rowan carefully eased the shirt off his body. The room was still humid, but his nipples hardened at the rush of air, and the piercing in his left one twinged against the nerve. Rowan’s eyes trailed down, widening at the sight of it, and then he pressed his thumb against the barbell. “Fuck. That’s…”

  “You like it?” James asked, his breath making his voice sound airy.

  “Can I taste it?” Rowan asked.

  James damn well knew that most people with the piercings used them during sex. He knew it was supposed to feel good, and he’d even tried it out once or twice while rubbing himself off. But to have anot
her person do it…

  “If it makes you uncomfortable,” Rowan started.

  James pushed back the threat of the voices in his head and grabbed Rowan by the back of the neck, giving him a sharp tug toward his chest. Rowan went easily, mouth open, tongue laving at the metal. He swirled a circle around James’ small, dusky areola before giving it a good, hard suck. It hurt, but the pain was another level, going right to his balls and startling a groan out of him.

  His legs felt wobbly all of a sudden, and he clutched at Rowan’s shoulders. “I should uh…I should get horizontal before this gets awkward.”

  Rowan’s gaze flickered to James’ legs, then he looked back up. “Do you want to take them off?”

  Before, the answer was a hard no, and even now he still felt some apprehension. He knew it would make things difficult—they were cumbersome and didn’t allow for a lot of natural movement when he was on his back. But he wasn’t even sure where the hell his chair was, and the last thing he wanted was to feel that fear of helplessness.

  “Let’s leave them on,” Rowan said, reading James’ face like a damn book. “But get on your back and let me take your sweats off.”

  It was more of a request than a command, but there was just enough power in his voice that James allowed himself to relax and obey. Rowan had a polite authority which told James he would take the lead, guide him, but without a force that would terrify him. He wouldn’t expect James to be an expert, but he wouldn’t expect him to be someone with no idea about what he wanted, someone without a voice.

  Lying back on the bed, he propped up on his elbows as he watched Rowan lean one knee on the mattress, between James’ spread legs. His hands gripped at James’ ankles, which startled him. Most people avoided his prosthetics if they could, but Rowan caressed them upward toward his thigh as though he could feel it.

  “Good?” Rowan asked.

  “Yes,” James answered. There was a roughness to his voice, his nerves showing, but he was feeling strong. “I’m perfect.”