by Mia Terry
“No,” he said decisively. “This time when we have the conversation it will be on my territory.”
“Are your parents going to shoot me on sight?” Ollie asked, his mouth quirked in a way that signaled he was possibly only half-joking.
Rhys kept a straight face as he replied. “We can all just be glad they actively practice pacifism. But if they see you, some very dirty looks might come your way.”
* * *
Now that he had Ollie settled on his lounge, facing him, Rhys’s chest really ached. There was something so right about Ollie being there. Something so right about Ollie being under his roof where Rhys had been imagining him for the past month.
However, he knew there was no point in getting lost in the moment's fantasy. He needed more than the high of having Ollie here. More than the high of knowing that if he so much as looked at the bedroom door he could have Ollie’s body under his own.
So, Rhys steeled himself. “What’s changed?” he asked.
“Apart from me realizing I’m in love with you?” Ollie replied.
Rhys’s heart sung at the words, but he hung on to what remained of his sanity remembering how deep the cut of rejection had been. “Nah, you can’t start with that. Tell me what’s changed in your life since you told me there wasn’t room in it for me.”
“I’m sorry.” As Ollie sat in front of him and maintained eye contact as he spoke, Rhys couldn’t deny the sincerity in the sentiment. “I’m sorry I hurt you, and I’m sorry I was so stuck in my head that I couldn’t see what was between us deserved to have a future. I walked away and I’ve regretted that each day. I was back in Sydney, and I realized I needed to change my life, but more importantly I needed to have you in my life.”
Rhys had to force himself to keep breathing because this was what he’d been wanting to hear for so long. He knew, though, he needed to stay silent to let Ollie speak.
“So here I am,” Ollie continued. “The only question is are you going to let me tell you I love you now.”
“You can say it,” Rhys gave his permission, unable to stop the smile that started to stretch his cheeks.
“I love you,” said Ollie. “Even if you make me work for it.”
“Turns out I love you too much to make you work all that hard,” said Rhys. He moved because he couldn’t bear not to be closer to Ollie and ended up climbing into his lap. It seemed the fastest way to get maximum contact.
Ollie’s arms wrapped around him with almost crushing force and both their breaths stuttered when Rhys wiggled a little and they pressed together groin to groin.
“Fuck I missed how right this felt,” said Ollie, perfectly expressing Rhys’s own thoughts. Because no matter how angry he’d been with the man, this had stayed upmost in his memory. How perfect the man’s arms felt around him, how lucky he always felt to be held like this.
Now, this was his late-night fantasy, though he’d never been able to consider a reunion that could give him so much. Ollie was here, he had said he would stay, and he was holding Rhys like he was both precious and necessary.
Then all rational thought fled from Rhys’s mind when Ollie kissed him. All that was left was sheer need.
Four weeks alone with the memories of the hottest sex of his life running on a loop had left Rhys wanting, and the kiss went deep as he pushed his body back against Ollie. They were both wearing board shorts, which meant that cocks had room to lengthen and thicken against each other, and Rhys was dizzy enough with lust that he wasn’t sure if the groan he heard came from him or Ollie. Okay, it was probably him as the head of his cock had caught in a twist of fabric in a not unpleasant way, but what he really needed to be was skin to skin, and that wouldn’t be achieved with him writhing in Ollie’s lap.
Without moving his mouth completely away from Ollie’s he stumbled to his feet.
“Where are you going?” Ollie complained, grabbing at his legs.
“Bedroom. Lube, condoms.” Rhys explained, with a minimum of words. He didn’t want to have to stop kissing for too long.
Ollie must have agreed because they kept on kissing as they stumbled their way to the bedroom. Hell, Ollie was tuned up enough that he probably would have offered to carry Rhys, and it almost tempted Rhys enough to let him. But there wasn’t a huge disparity in their sizes and as strong as Ollie was, Rhys figured a back strain wouldn’t be very conducive to the athletic sex he saw in their very near future.
At the door to his bedroom, Rhys started working on Ollie’s shorts. When the shorts hit the floor, and he got a look at Ollie’s almost purple dick, he could have got on his knees in thankfulness. Then his face was full of t-shirt as Ollie wrestled it over his head.
Their last pieces of clothing were discarded, and they tumbled onto Rhys’s unmade bed. Skin to skin, and under Ollie’s weight, every other memory fell away except this perfect moment. Rhys loved the feel of Ollie’s dick against his own. Their bodies shifted, giving them the friction they craved, and Rhys’s body shook a little, the pleasure putting him close to the edge.
Luckily, even as the heads of their cocks were wet with excitement, the overall sensation was just dry enough to have him not spilling like a schoolboy. He could only be glad for that; he wasn’t ready for this to be over. After their declarations of love, he wanted Ollie inside of him. Just that thought was enough for him to pull away enough to grab the condoms and lube from his bedside table. He tossed the condom in Ollie’s direction and began the job of fingering himself, getting himself ready for Ollie’s intrusion.
Ollie could barely look away from the sight of Rhys’s fingers disappearing into his ass even as he put up a token protest. “That’s my job.”
“Not tonight,” Rhys answered. “You’ll be too careful and take too long. I need you in me now.”
Rhys wasn’t exaggerating; his body shook with need. He pulled out his fingers, knowing he probably hadn’t taken long enough, but also knowing he really didn’t care. If anything, he wanted the burn. He needed the confirmation that Ollie was really here.
As if his words had spurred Ollie on, he found himself on his back being thoroughly kissed, his legs pushed up, and the very distinctive feel of Ollie’s lubed-up dick at his entrance. Then the long press of cock entering him forced all the air out of his lungs.
A look at how Ollie was biting his own lip, told him the man was doing all he could to hang on to control and not spill. Knowing he could put Ollie so close to the edge, so quickly, ramped up his own arousal. Only the edge of pain that came with too little prep grounded him. Once Ollie’s long dick bottomed out and his movement stilled, they could both breathe just a little.
The intensity was so high they couldn’t even kiss. All they could do was look in each other’s eyes, blissed-out, in this moment of emotional high-voltage pleasure. Then, as Ollie moved, the world cracked apart.
Rhys’s eyes fluttered shut as Ollie’s dick hit his prostate with a devastating rhythm. His knees were pushed in so close to his chest there was no way for him to do anything but lie there and let the pleasure roll over him with Ollie’s thrusts. He had surrendered his body to be used, to be pleasured. He had given Ollie that control and gotten his reward in the high he felt as his body took every jolt of joy in each thrust and rushed towards orgasm. Rhys heard himself sob and knew release was only moments away.
Just before he finally tipped over the edge, he said the words “love you,” and then the world went away, and he fell into a space where only pleasure and Ollie existed.
Whether it was Rhys’s words or the way Rhys’s body pulsed around his cock, Ollie almost immediately came with him. The headboard rattled as Ollie rode through his orgasm. Rhys let the sight of Ollie enter his consciousness. It only added to Rhys’s pleasure to see him throw his head back, and convulse, all control gone.
* * *
Afterward, they lay quietly on the wrecked sheets and just touched. Their contact was tender, for affection, rather than arousal.
“Love you too,” Ollie
whispered. Yeah, Rhys wasn’t getting sick of that particular phrase anytime soon.
For a while, all they could do was whisper half-finished words of adoration to each other and just absorb the joy of being together again. Rhys had never felt this close to another person, never let himself relax and be this vulnerable. He felt so lucky, safe, knowing he was loved.
“So what overpriced holiday house are you renting?” he asked, smiling, as he played with the hair on Ollie’s chest.
“Piss off. I signed a six-month lease,” Ollie smiled smugly. “And the only reason it wasn’t for longer was maybe by that point we might be ready to move in.”
Wow. The man was serious. If Rhys hadn’t been so there himself, he might have been worried. As it was, he was just thrilled and amped up. “You know you could have probably stayed here?”
Ollie smiled and pressed a kiss to his hair. “I won’t be turning down any invitations to stay over, but I want this to last. And us getting to know each other’s rhythms out of bed, and me creating my own life here, are necessary so our relationship has the best chance.”
“Good point,” said Rhys, knowing he was right. They would need their own space if they were to have chance of creating a lasting, mature relationship as a couple. That didn’t mean he probably wouldn’t resent every night Ollie spent in his own house away from him.
“I will totally stay here tonight,” said Ollie. That at least satisfied the previously undiscovered part of Rhys’s personality that absolutely needed his new boyfriend within his sight for at least the next twenty-four hours.
When Ollie playfully bit down on his nipple, Rhys’s cock gave a halfhearted twitch, which was on the verge of painful given how recently and how hard he had come. Damn it, they definitely couldn’t go again yet.
“Nup,” he announced, pulling at Ollie’s hair until he stopped his busy mouth. “As much as I so want to fuck again, I need at least another fifteen minutes to recover, so you’ll have to distract me with something.”
“Old man,” said Ollie wrinkling his nose at him. Though Rhys figured he must have felt much the same way, as Ollie easily lay on his back and turned his face towards Rhys. “Well, Kris and Billy send their love and told me to tell you they were the ones who thought I was a total dickhead.”
“Poor darling,” Rhys murmured, petting Ollie’s hair. He figured he could afford to be generous, seeing Ollie was here with him now. “Were they tough on you?”
Ollie pouted, but his wide smile didn’t allow him to hold the look for long. “Kris was vicious until he knew I was making the right choice. Then, I have to admit, they couldn’t have been more supportive. They even helped me pack up my place. You haven’t lived until you know that Billy watches Marie Kondo religiously. He even made me put all my stuff on the floor and made me pick what I wanted to keep—and he was brutal. It made him the best, though, with folding t-shirts.”
“We must have them down to thank them,” Rhys said, his heart leaping at his words, at the idea that he and Ollie could host their friends as a couple in the future. “I got my wedding invitation from Jai, along with a very sweet email. He said they were having their wedding at the local hall, and the Pink Ladies at the hospital had insisted on making their wedding cake for them.”
Ollie’s smile turned softer. “Remembering how happy they are was part of what brought me back to you,” he said. “I went away, but I realized if I was going to have a chance of being that happy in my future it would only be with you.”
Rhys's heart turned over at those words and he leaned forward to kiss Ollie. “Okay,” he declared, as he climbed on top of the beautiful man. “I’m ready to have sex with you again.”
Watching Ollie laugh below him, he felt a happiness he hadn’t known he was capable of. Now he felt his future was assured. Because having Ollie back in his life, he wouldn’t let him go.
Epilogue
Ollie had been in Byron twelve months now, and he was still confused by the line for the special potato man at the markets. He now got in the line most weeks, because those potatoes were so damn good, but it still didn’t seem like the most efficient way to purchase produce. On the plus side, he got to do his Thursday market shopping in a t-shirt and board shorts, and it was always a good way to catch up with Jen.
Rhys’s mum always saved a few of the good pastries for him, and him being there always had the added benefit that he could look after the stall while she popped around the market for her morning shopping. Occasionally, while he did this, he would run into ghosts of his previous life. However, that was actually a bonus. There were very few things funnier than looking at the confused faces of former acquaintances as they tried to figure out what had happened to Ollie Gilsworth, scion to the family fortune, to make him a Farmer’s Market helper. He never felt the need to tell them he still managed fortunes.
These days he owned his own company which specialized in ethical investing. He had a small, though surprisingly wealthy, client list—he had to acknowledge that, no doubt, nepotism from both his and Rhys’s families helped there. Even Ollie’s father had reluctantly admired his business model when he’d been on one of his visits to Byron. Ollie had an assistant, a business manager—whose surfing rivaled Rhys’s—and a seriously more enjoyable work-life balance. Though he had to admit he did emphasize the long-term financial stability of his company to his father, rather than the cherished late mornings and half days off which were actually more important to Ollie.
Ollie had ended up buying the sprawling Queenslander house he’d been renting when he’d first moved to Byron. He lived at Rhys’s house, of course, so now he just used the beautiful house in the center of town as the home base for his business practice. Yeah, Ollie knew it would have been more cost-effective to rent an office space in town, but he wasn’t interested in working in a cubicle or even a glass-fronted office again. He liked their eccentric space where staff meetings could be held in the generous back garden or around the kitchen table. Another definite benefit was the very solid door to his office, which was frequently locked when Rhys made a lunchtime visit. The staff knew not to knock, and when Ollie had argued, admittedly weakly, for professionalism, Rhys had asked what he expected when he moved such a large desk into a room that held such good memories as his former bedroom. And Ollie enjoyed those visits far, far too much to attempt any more protests.
As if he had conjured up Rhys with vivid memories of him spread across his desk, the man himself popped up in front of the market stall.
“I just saw mum finishing off her coffee, and she said I could spring you,” Rhys said, leaning across the counter for a now familiar kiss.
Another thing Ollie liked about Byron was that it could be considered very bad manners to react to anything as warm as the lingering kiss he shared with his partner. Even the older hippy men, who weren’t quite as woke as they thought they were, would never think of protesting his and Rhys’s physical affection. Especially if they expected to ever get one of Jen’s pastries again. So, Ollie got to enjoy the warmth of Rhys’s hand on his back, while he served the customers who appeared before Jen made her way back to the counter.
After at least two thankful hugs from Rhys’s mother, and after storing the weeks produce in Ollie’s car, Ollie and Rhys made their way hand in hand to the beachfront. This walk had become another ritual, as it always evoked memories of that wonderful day when Luke and Jai got engaged here. Ollie and Rhys had proudly attended the wedding as a couple and thinking of that joyful union in Dungoon never failed to bring a smile to his face. They’d gotten to sit with the happy couple, as well as Kris and Billy, and Kris had later told Ollie that watching the community embrace the wedding had healed some deep-seated wounds in Billy about the attitudes in the place he grew up.
“What was that smile for?” asked Rhys, squeezing his hand.
“Just thinking about the Dungoon trip.”
“When we arrived at the hotel and you realized you would have to share a bathroom, I wasn’t sure if t
he trip could be saved,” Rhys opened his eyes wide in mock horror.
“You know I don’t like to think of myself as spoilt,” Ollie ignored Rhys’s pointed snort at this statement. “But really, sharing bathrooms with other guests in a hotel. I just thought the 1980s made ensuites standard.”
“Considering it was the region’s police inspector and his wife we were sharing with, it wasn’t exactly cause for the hushed voice emergency and the almost move to Parkes,” Rhys laughed.
Knowing Rhys had more, admittedly funny, material, Ollie shut him up with a thorough kiss. For all the bathroom hiccups—and Ollie still maintained that bathrooms in hotels shouldn’t be shared between rooms—the trip had been amazing. Watching those two men, so deeply in love, officially join their lives together had made Ollie very aware of how much he wanted to make the same commitment to Rhys. In the months since they’d been home—and Ollie now officially thought of Byron as home—Ollie had bought a ring, which was currently hidden in one of office filing cabinets under lock and key.
However, expressing that to Rhys now wasn’t the plan, so Ollie just said, “I can’t wait until the boys come up for Christmas this year.”
He and Rhys had both been thrilled when the whole contingent from their original Byron holiday had agreed to join them for Christmas. They’d had Kris and Billy a few times since Ollie had moved up, which was always brilliant, but to get Luke and Jai, was a dream. In fact, Ollie had been making some calls to his friends and suspected by the end of the Christmas break, Rhys would be wearing his ring.
However, before he raised too many suspicions from Rhys with his ridiculously radiant smile at that idea, Ollie started stripping off. Rhys was busy doing the same thing and unloading the surfboards. Ollie had become a committed surfer about the same time he’d become a committed boyfriend. With Rhys, he wasn’t sure if there was any choice but to share that passion. Luckily, Ollie adored being out there riding the waves with his lover. He was nowhere near as good a surfer and, after more than a year of almost daily surfs, he’d realized he would never be. It was definitely a testament to his love for the man, and certainly showed how Rhys had curbed some of the lesser parts of Ollie’s nature. Because for this man he could put aside his need to be the best and just enjoy the sun and the exhilaration that came from being one with the waves. Or at least momentarily one with the waves, before they dumped his ass.