Since he’d been staying with me, we hadn’t seen much of them. And I was good about losing any tails we picked up. But since the show had finished filming the last episode and went on a six week hiatus, things had wound down. Miranda and I were no longer serving as security consultants on set, and most of the cast and crew had cleared out. From what I could tell, most of the paparazzi had, too. But with several of the cast members and production staff making their home in Seattle, the paparazzi never disappeared completely. Which is why Brandon still wore the hat, even though both of us felt certain we wouldn’t run into anyone at six o’clock on a Sunday morning at the grocery store.
“Will you make enchiladas again?” Brandon asked, tilting his face so he could blink his eyes at me. He knew how appealing I found that.
I scowled even though I didn’t mean it. “We just had them the other day. You want them again so soon?”
Brandon shrugged. “You could make them later in the week.”
I nodded as we turned the corner to the next aisle. I made a beeline for the crackers and added a box of saltines to the cart, then pushed further down the row to the peanut butter. I was almost out. “Yeah, I could. You going to still be around, though?”
I picked up a jar of the crunchy, then a smaller jar of the creamy. Audra didn’t like nuts in her peanut butter and if I didn’t have any of the smoother kind in the house when she got home this weekend, there would be hell to pay. I loved that both kids made it a point to spend at least one weekend a month at home, and I didn’t want to do anything to make those weekends unpleasant.
I was halfway down the next aisle and adding stuffing mix to the cart when I realized Brandon had lagged behind and he hadn’t answered my question. I stopped and turned, watching him drag his feet as he shuffled forward. His shoulders where hunched and he looked like he’d been kicked. As soon as he got close enough, I reached out and hauled him in, wrapping him up in my arms.
“What’s the matter, angel?” I murmured low in his ear as he melted against me. He squeezed my waist tightly and, I thought, a little desperately. He made a tiny choking sound, and I just rubbed his back until he got himself under control. Finally, he sucked in a deep breath, but when he pulled back and looked at me, he wasn’t my Brandon. I’d watched the transformation on set enough to know when he was putting on a mask.
He opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off with a sharp shake of my head. There was no way I was going to let him get away with hiding anything from me, and I was certain that whatever he was going to say would have been a lie. Or at least, not the entire truth. What we had was temporary, yes, but it was real. And I wasn’t going to accept anything less from him.
Whatever he saw in my face made the mask crumple, and he blew out a shaky breath and dropped his gaze. “Sorry, sir,” he whispered. He took a step closer to me, so that his arm was touching mine. “You know I don’t want to leave and I think maybe we have to talk about that.”
I nodded once, and took his chin between my fingers. I lifted his face, then gave him a quick, chaste kiss as a reward for his honesty. His features relaxed, and he gave me a real smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
“We’ll do that then. But not in the middle of the grocery store. Let’s get the shopping done.” I took a step back and hooked my thumb over my shoulder. “You get the enchilada sauce and I’ll meet you in the bakery section, all right?”
He nodded fast, squeezed my hand, and loped off to the next aisle.
I took a minute to regain my equilibrium, then pushed the cart toward the front of the store. I didn’t know what had gotten into Brandon, but he’d been quiet since before the party last night. With filming officially done, and the show’s contract with Riverside Security ended, I no longer had to make that my top priority. So I’d gone to DeLorio’s as Brandon’s guest. It had been a raucous affair, quite different than their usual get-togethers when episodes were done. This was something bigger and more involved. Brandon had enjoyed himself for a while, and liked the fact that he could say “thank you” and “goodbye” all at once. When he’d been ready to call it a night at eleven, I hadn’t thought much of it.
But now looking back, I could see it was more than just the social interaction starting to wear on him. As I started to put all the pieces of his behavior together over the last twenty-four hours or so, I saw the pattern emerging. That party had been the last thing keeping him in Seattle. Now he was unsure of his place, and he thought he had to leave. Instead of voicing that worry, though, he’d internalized it. I was proud that he was ready to talk about it now, but he should have done that when the worry started creeping in.
The thought made me pause. I was treating this relationship as if it had a future, instead of a temporary mutually satisfactory fling. The truth was, I wanted it to be more. I didn’t want it to end. But I had to be practical. I couldn’t leave Seattle, and Brandon couldn’t stay. His job meant that he was always on the move, and he needed to take the roles he was offered in order to stay relevant. I couldn’t be selfish and hold him back from that.
With a heavy heart, I turned toward the bakery. Neither one of us was going to be happy when this conversation was done.
* * * *
I was an efficient shopper, and the way I loaded things on the conveyor meant that when I got home, similar items were in the same bags. It was a quick job to put away the groceries, and normally it took me only a few minutes. But Brandon and I both lingered over the task, drawing it out unnecessarily to avoid the conversation we needed to have. When I noticed him taking boxes of pasta to the cupboard only one at a time, I knew it had reached a critical point.
I shot him a look that made him blush, then I smiled so he would, too. He nodded once and slid the remaining boxes along the counter toward the cupboard so he could put them all away. I finished with the perishable vegetables, then held out a hand. Brandon took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and walked closer.
He grabbed my hand and held on like it was a lifeline.
I used it to reel him in and hold him close for a long moment, squeezing so he could really feel me. When some of the tension leeched from his body, I let go and took a small step back. I kept the distance between us minimal as I led him to the living room. I sat first, situating myself in the corner of the large couch before I tugged him down to join me. Brandon didn’t hesitate, curling up against my side and snuggling in.
I let him breathe deeply for a few minutes as he centered himself. I knew it was a technique he employed to great success, and I needed him to be fully focused and ready for this conversation to happen. It didn’t take him long, and I knew by the way he melted even more against me that he was finally feeling comfortable.
The trust he showed in me never failed to please me.
“You want to start?” It was barely a question, and Brandon knew it. He glanced quickly at me before he dropped his gaze and nodded.
“Time’s up,” he said softly. He started fiddling with my fingers. “Logically, I know I should say yes to one of the other projects Cas has lined up. There’s one in particular he’s pushing at me that starts filming next week. Brian wants me to go home for a while, take a break, and regroup.”
“What do you want?” I asked before he could go any further.
Another quick glance at me, and his voice was barely more than a murmur when he responded. “Stay here with you and act at the same time.”
“Is that an option?” I was fairly certain I knew the answer, but I wanted Brandon to be the one to say it.
He shook his head, and his smile was sad. “No. There’s nothing lined up here. I’m done at Rourke and Geary, and nothing else is shooting here that I know of.”
“So you need to leave.”
Brandon sucked in a fast breath, his gaze shooting to meet mine, his eyes wide. He pulled out of my arms with a jerk and started to stand. “If you wanted me gone, all you had to do was say. You’re the one who told me—”
“Brandon,” I sai
d, cutting him off, my tone full of warning. He knew damn well that’s not what I was saying. He was looking for any excuse to make this easier. If I wanted him gone, then the hurt of leaving would be tempered by anger and not as strong. But I wasn’t going to let him get away with that. Brandon was real and authentic in my presence, and I would accept nothing less even as we ended things.
“I’m sorry, sir.” Brandon blew out a breath and slumped back down. He gave me his weight and I took it easily, holding him tightly and keeping him from flying apart.
“We both knew when we started this thing it would be temporary,” I said. I kissed his forehead, then tilted his chin so I could look him directly in the eye. He’d been honest with me, and I could offer him nothing less. “I want you to stay. I think what’s between us could be something very good. But it doesn’t seem like that’s in the cards for us. You live in L.A. and film all over the country—”
“World,” he interrupted with another sad smile.
“World,” I amended with a small laugh. I leaned in to give him a soft kiss. “So it’s probably best if we part ways. Stay friends, if we can, but let go of anything else.”
Brandon’s eyes filled with moisture, but the tears didn’t spill over. He didn’t say anything either, just nodded reluctantly. I knew how much he hated this. I could see it all over his face. But he did his best to firm up his chin, because despite what his heart and body wanted, his head knew that we’d have to let each other go.
“You don’t have to leave yet, though,” I said, deliberately dropping my voice. “We still have days to love on each other, say goodbye properly. Make plenty of memories. Make it so I can always remember the feel of you wrapped around my dick, and so you can always remember the taste of me on your tongue.”
That fast, Brandon was aroused. He sucked in a breath and I watched as his pupils dilated with lust. He threw himself at me, his lips latching onto mine as soon as they could, and I pulled him against my body. It took only seconds for me to gain control of the kiss, and Brandon’s entire body went pliant under my touch.
Suddenly, he pulled back and levered himself up so that he was looking down at me. His gaze darted all over my face before landing on my lips. He licked his own, then forcefully dragged his gaze to meet mine.
“Can I suck you now? Please, sir. I want to taste you.”
I would never turn down an offer when voiced like that. I nodded firmly, and Brandon immediately wiggled down my body until he was kneeling on the floor between my feet. He pushed my knees even further apart so he could get in closer, then he quickly undid the button and zipper of my jeans. They were an old pair, soft and relaxed from hundreds of washings, and as soon as I lifted my hips, Brandon had them and my underwear tugged down to my ankles and then off.
My cock was half-hard and rising fast. Brandon licked his lips and made a yummy noise before all but diving in. He took me into his mouth, and I groaned at the warm, wet heat. If there was one thing I could say with absolute certainty, it was that Brandon was an expert at sucking cock. While I didn’t like to think about how he’d gotten that way, I was more than happy to reap the benefits of his expertise.
He knew exactly when to suck, when to lick. His tongue did wicked things to the head of my cock, delving into the slit and rubbing hard on the underside. A hint of teeth now and again to keep things interesting. Brandon didn’t just use his mouth either. His hands came into play as well, jacking down my length or rolling my balls.
I was not a noisy lover under most circumstances. I think I learned to be quiet from years of furtive jack-off sessions and clandestine hook-ups. But Brandon brought the noises out of me, grunts and groans I couldn’t contain. I’d stopped trying weeks ago. Especially when I realized any noise I made spurred Brandon on.
In particular when he had his lips wrapped around my cock.
Often I did everything in my power to stave off my orgasms. I liked to drag it out as long as possible. I liked to make Brandon come apart underneath me before I finally let go. But there was no holding back right now. I didn’t even try. When I felt my balls drawing up, that pressure building and that tingling in my spine, I grabbed Brandon’s head. I didn’t push or pull, and instead made him go still. Those ice-blue eyes peered up at me, alive with fire and question.
“Do you want me to come in your mouth?” I bit out, the words harsh with my ragged breathing.
Brandon’s eyes rolled back and he moaned and sucked hard on the head of my cock. I took that as a yes. I thrust gently, making sure Brandon was ready. He was, and I started fucking his mouth. I didn’t want to choke him, but I should have known better. Brandon took it and demanded more, his noises greedy and wanton, his suction hard as I pulled out. A flick of his tongue, then as I thrust in, he pushed his head down, too, and I slid into his throat. He swallowed, and that was it. I came hard, growling out my release.
I wanted to hold him there, but I let him pull back and suckle, drawing out my orgasm and making me twitch. I finally got sensitive enough to pull away, and Brandon sat back on his heels.
The way he looked up at me was enough to make me want to go again. His face was flushed, his lips swollen and a deep red. Even as I watched, his pink tongue flicked out to capture a stray drop of my cum from the corner of his mouth. His eyes were wide and lust-filled, and he gave me his complete and utter attention.
I knew in that moment a part of me would always want him. Even after we said goodbye and moved on with our respective lives, I was going to think of Brandon Culpepper and want him. But I wasn’t going to dwell on that. Not while I still had him.
“Bedroom. Naked. Now.” I growled out the command and Brandon’s entire body shivered in anticipation. He pushed himself up and practically ran to the bedroom. I saw the flutter of fabric as he whipped off his shirt along the way.
It took me a minute to get up and follow. But there was no way I was going to make him wait too long.
Chapter 8
When it was time for Brandon to go, neither one of us dragged things out. He had to be in New Orleans by Sunday to start filming a movie, and though he wanted to wait till the last possible minute to go, he knew he needed at least a day to acclimate himself and get over his travel weariness. We spent Friday together, making love and fucking hard, and when he got on a plane that evening it was with my scent still on his body. I kissed him in the waiting area, and watched until he disappeared through security.
I was glad the kids had pushed their visit back one weekend because I wasn’t exactly fit for company. Letting him go was hard, and I needed time to get myself back together. When I reported for work the following Monday, Tony Sorenson, the boss and owner of Riverside Security, took one look at me and assigned me to surveillance. It was a welcome change. I’d spend some time behind the monitors before Tony put me in the field again. A couple of days, and I’d be back to normal.
Three weeks later, I was providing escort duty for a state congressman as he toured the business districts. Jack Turner was up for reelection next fall and was starting his campaign. His stance on LGBTQ issues alone had made him wildly popular with the left, and maligned by the right. Marriage equality was a done deal across the entire country, so I didn’t see why people were still up in arms with any politician who was pro-gay rights. But they were and that meant the congressman needed a shadow as he made himself publically visible.
After assuring that Congressman Turner was safely ensconced in his hotel for the evening, and turning over the detail to my relief, I headed home. I took a quick shower, then donned a pair of soft sweats before tossing leftover lasagna into the microwave. Audra and Zane had shown up this past weekend, despite having been home just two weeks before, and Zane had been on a cooking tear. I had enough filled plastic containers in the fridge and freezer to last me for months. Zane cooked when he was worried, and though I did my best to assure him I was fine, the truth was it would take time before I was over Brandon.
Once I had dinner in front of me, I booted up
the laptop with the intent of answering emails while I ate. It had become my habit over the last few weeks to do this at night instead of in the morning, now that I no longer needed to know what was being said about my charges on the Internet. My inbox pinged as the email loaded, and I took a long drink of water before focusing on the computer.
My eye was immediately drawn to the alerts email, because there was only one that I hadn’t disabled. I clicked it open and read through it before I reached for my phone and dialed his number. We hadn’t spoken in three weeks, and I had no idea if he’d answer, but that didn’t matter. What I had read set me on edge, and I needed to talk to him.
“Jared! Hi!” Brandon answered on the third ring and sounded happy, though tired.
“Are you all right?” I didn’t mean to growl out the question, but I didn’t try to hold it back.
Brandon huffed out a breath. “Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated.”
“Not. Funny.”
“Sorry, sir.” Brandon was instantly contrite. “I’m fine, Jared. It was just a bump on the head.”
I glanced at the screen again, and I knew what I had read. I also knew that the source was fairly accurate and wasn’t prone to exaggeration. Much. “This says you fell from a five foot platform, were unconscious for several minutes, and though you were released from the hospital in short order, you were reported to have a concussion.”
Brandon made a noise I couldn’t interpret without the benefit of his expression, then took a few deep breaths, letting each one out slowly. I knew he was reacting to my tone, but I couldn’t seem to make myself rein it in. He’d been hurt, and that did not sit well with me.
“I really am okay,” Brandon said at last. “Stuff like this happens all the time on set, and they have protocol in place to react to it appropriately. I got medical attention immediately, and I’m fine.”
Something Like Trust Page 7