by Nikki Ash
“Sounds good. I’ll go make it.”
I scoop Lane up in my arms and get comfortable on the couch. He brings me a bottle and I cradle her while she eats. So much is fucked up in our lives right now, but being in this moment with her makes everything perfect. I can only pray we get to keep her.
I can lose Pops and it would suck, hard. But losing Lane is unfathomable.
“I think I’m going to see if Lane will sleep in the nursery tonight,” Lance says nonchalantly. A week ago, I helped him put together her room. He spent way too much money on a beautiful crib and soft pink and gold decor. At the time, he complained about how hard it would be to have her away from him.
“Oh yeah?” I ask.
“Yeah. We might need the privacy.” He rests a hand on my thigh.
“Will we?”
“You don’t think so?” I hear the edge to his voice. He’s nervous. We’ve been taking things further and further each time we’re together. I’ve been taking care to stretch him with my fingers every night, preparing him for when I can finally sink into his body.
“You know I want that,” I say, knowing we’re not talking about being alone. We’re talking about sex. “But I don’t want you to feel pressured to kick this one from your room.”
“I set up the video monitor over her crib and the SIDS detector. I think she’ll be fine.” He traces down her cheek that’s growing more and more chubby each day.
“Then I think it’s bedtime.” I smirk.
Chapter Seven
Lance
I wrap Lane in her swaddle blanket, my palms growing sweaty and excitement building in my belly. I haven’t been this nervous in my life. Not even my first night with Lane. I lay her down and double check the monitoring systems I purchased are working.
She fell asleep while Bo was feeding her, so she doesn’t fuss when I flip the light out and close the door. I don’t find Bo in the living room. I lock everything up and head to the bedroom. It’s only nine, but we’re not planning on sleeping.
I find him on the bed, lying on his side with a cocky smirk on his face. He pats the space in front of him. I crawl across the bed and straddle his hips.
“Did she go down okay?” he asks with his hands on my thighs.
“Yep.” I run my hands up and down his torso. “I’m excited for a sleepover.”
“Me too.”
He removes my glasses and sets them on the nightstand before fisting my T-shirt and tugging me down for a kiss. His lips are plump and delicious. Right away, his tongue demands entry. Our kiss is heated and full of intensity as he sits up with me astride on his lap. His arms wrap around me tight and I feel his erection against my ass. He’s as excited as I am for tonight.
Part of me wants to rush through it so I can finally know what it’ll feel like, but the other part wants to savor every second because I’ll never have another first time. It feels ridiculous to be my age and only now be experiencing my first real sexual encounter. I don’t count the heterosexual sex I’ve had. It wasn’t really me and it meant little. This, however, means everything.
He breaks from our kiss and rolls us so I’m on my back before he steps off the bed.
“Clothes off,” he orders, and we both scramble to disrobe.
He takes me in, while I do the same to him. I don’t have the wherewithal to be concerned with what he sees, because I’m too busy gaping in awe at him. He’s fucking gorgeous with the light reflecting off his dark skin, making him glow in an ethereal way. He’s a masterpiece. Like someone took extra time on him, making sure he’s perfectly symmetrical, and each ripple of muscle is ideally defined.
He climbs back onto the bed in all his nude glory. He parts my knees and settles between them, leaning over to kiss me again. He’s rougher this time, more urgent. His lips envelope mine and his tongue explores my mouth. His cock weighs heavy on my stomach, turning me on more than I’ve ever been before.
“I’m going to make this so good for you.” He sits up and reaches over to the nightstand where a row of supplies I didn’t see before now are lined up.
He grabs the lube first and squirts a line down my rigid erection. He interlinks his fingers and closes his hands around my rigid length. He pumps up and down slowly, his thumbs exploring every ridge. It’s euphoria. One hand releases me and moves lower. He rubs slow circles against my hole, building the anticipation.
“God, you’re so responsive. I love that about you,” he says, pressing into me. I squirm with need. He starts with one finger, hooking it to rub against my prostate. He then moves to two, all while stroking my cock almost lovingly. When he gets to three fingers, I worry I’m going to explode.
“Had enough?” he asks, reading my mind.
“I want to come with you inside me.”
“Me too.”
I miss the contact immediately when he lets go, but I know what’s to come will be even better. He grabs a condom and tears it open.
“We don’t need that,” I say.
“Don’t we?”
“We’re both clean.” Weeks ago, we both got tested, knowing eventually we would be here.
“I didn’t want to assume.”
“I want it to be you I feel. And only you.”
He tosses the condom and drizzles a line of slick down his cock. He repositions himself and grips the base of his dick. His brows furrow in concentration as he presses against my hole. I relax my body, knowing it’s going to burn, but wanting it more than anything.
“If you need me to stop, tell me. I don’t want to hurt you.” He glances up and I nod.
With slow precision he pushes in. He fills me completely. It’s so much more profound than I thought it would be. Not only do our bodies join, but so does everything else. Our breaths, our heartbeats, our desires.
“Bo,” I say through a gasp.
“I know.” He reaches over to briefly stroke my cheek comfortingly. When he’s fully seated, his hands go to my knees and he groans. “You’re so tight. I never want to come so this never has to end.”
He picks my dick back up and strokes me in time with each thrust. His movements are deliberate and careful, keeping his eyes trained on me. I know he’s worried about this, but I’m not. I’ll greedily take whatever he gives me.
Then he shifts positions so that he’s driving into my prostate, and I see stars. I blow my load without warning. Thick ropes of cum jet from my dick and land on my stomach and chest.
“That’s it, doc. Come for me. You’re so fucking sexy.” He bites his lower lip, his eyes fixed on me as I orgasm.
It’s not long after I’m coming down, that his thrusts become erratic. He uses my knees as leverage to fuck me harder. I’ve only just come, but seeing him this out of control has me wishing I could do it all over again.
“Give it all to me. I want to see you,” I say, squeezing around him intentionally.
“Jesus fuck,” he roars. He doesn’t have to tell me he’s coming, the warmth I feel deep inside and the sudden wet noises from where we’re joined alerts me.
He pulls out, collapses on top of me, and I wrap my arms around him. I’m aware of the mess we’ve made between us, but I don’t care.
“That was incredible,” I say, trailing my fingers up and down his back.
“I’m in love with your ass,” he murmurs, and I smack him.
“Is that all you’re in love with?” I joke before realizing what I said. His head pops off my chest and gives me a wide-eyed look. “That’s not what I meant.”
God, I’m mortified. Despite how often that thought has been popping into my head, I never meant to say it out loud. It’s too soon and there’s still so much I need to deal with in my life before I can give a relationship my full focus.
Doesn’t change a goddamn thing, though. Boaz Dixon showed up at my door at the exact moment I needed someone the most. He gave me his time, his energy, and his heart. I couldn’t ask for more from a partner.
“It’s okay if you did.” He runs a hand throu
gh my hair. “Because I am in love with you.”
“You are?”
“Of course I am.” He shakes his head in disbelief. “If you would’ve told me a year ago, I’d be in love with a single dad who happens to be the new doctor at the hospital, I wouldn’t have believed it. You crushed every expectation I had for my life and gave me something I want to deserve. You and Lane are it for me.”
“You mean it?”
“Of course. Beats the hell of living the life of a fuck boy.”
I smack him again. “Glad I could save you from a life of depravity.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. I didn’t say all that. But I want all that depravity to be with only you. There’s a difference.”
“That’s better.”
“You got nothing to say to me?” he asks, his voice pitching high.
“I love you,” I blurt out.
“Mmm. Like music to my ears.”
“I didn’t think the person I met after my divorce would be the person I want to spend my life with, but here we are.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Definitely not a bad thing. I’m lucky.” I lift my head off the pillow and kiss him. “And messy. Let’s go shower.”
“Deal.”
We shower and change the sheets before climbing back into bed. He wraps his warm, hard body around mine, holding on tight. It doesn’t last long since Lane wakes up for a feeding before I can even close my eyes. But it’s not me who gets out of bed, it’s Bo. I listen over the monitor as he gives her a bottle from the new rocking chair I bought for the nursery and sings her nursery rhymes he’s made up his own lyrics for.
“Hush little baby, don’t you cry, your daddy’s gonna buy you an apple pie. If that apple pie is gross, your daddy’s gonna buy you overnight oats. If those overnight oats are dry, your daddy’s gonna buy you the earth and sky.”
I laugh as his song continues to barely make sense. I should use this time to catch up on sleep, but I’m too engrossed in how irresistibly sexy Bo is with my baby. He burps her, changes her diaper, and somehow manages to get her back to sleep. It’s something I rarely accomplish.
I feel the bed shift when he climbs back in, and I turn to face him.
“You’re amazing. You know that?” Lane chooses that moment to make a noise in her sleep, exposing my eavesdropping.
“You heard everything that went on in there?”
“I did.”
“Well, I guess you now know I’m an amazing singer. I didn’t want to say nothing about it because I knew you might be intimidated,” he says smugly.
“I am. Especially with your songwriting skills. It must be hard to have so much talent and keep it all inside.”
“It is. It is. But we all have a cross to bear.”
I hook a hand around the back of his neck and pull him in for a kiss. The happiness that fills me is indescribable. As though I’m standing on top of a mountain, the hurt and pain from my life swimming at the bottom, but I’m too high for it to touch me. All it took was an eight-pound baby and full-grown man.
I know there are storm clouds coming, but in this moment, it’s blue skies, sunshine, and a warm breeze.
Chapter Eight
Boaz
I walk out of the high school gym, confused. Eli had a game tonight, but he wasn’t there. I pull out my phone and dial his cell.
“Hello,” Eli answers his phone.
“Hey, bro. What’s goin’ on? I came to watch you play and Coach said you never showed.”
He sighs loudly. “Pops told me I couldn’t go.”
“Why?” My temper flares. Eli works hard to keep his grades up so he can play. School isn’t easy for him, but basketball is. The only way to keep that kid in check, is to hold the game over his head.
“He was too tired to drive me, and he wouldn’t let me walk.”
“Why didn’t you call me? I would’ve picked you up. I still can so you’ll be here for the third quarter.”
“Don’t bother,” he grinds out.
“What do you mean?”
“He won’t let you drive me. Why did you have to bring up your sexuality? You knew how he felt. You fucked everything up. It’s all your fault.” His voice shakes and it stabs me through the heart. He only shows his tough guy persona. It’s rare he shows anyone his emotions.
“We talked about this. I met someone important to me. I shouldn’t have to pretend like he doesn’t exist.”
“You couldn’t wait until I finished school? You’re so selfish.”
“Eli. That’s not fair.”
“You know what’s not fair? That I’m missing the game and won’t be able to play in the next one because I was a no-show tonight. That’s not fair.”
I open my mouth to explain, but the line goes dead.
Fuck.
I jump in my car and drive to my childhood home. It’s a bad idea. I feel it in my gut, but I’m spittin’ mad and I need to make this right. I pull up two minutes later and walk inside.
“No. You’re not welcome here,” Pops shouts, pointing at the door I just came in.
“I only want to talk. Hear me out.”
“There’s nothing you can say I want to hear. Now go before I call Sheriff Bell.”
“And tell him what?” I bite out. “That I came by to talk you out of being an asshole to your youngest son?”
“You’re trespassing. I kicked your ass out of this house.”
I ignore him. I doubt he’ll call the sheriff and if he does, the worst he’ll do is ask me to leave.
“Listen. You can hate me all you want. I don’t give a shit anymore. But that boy in there needs you. You don’t get to be too tired anymore. You made the choice to kick me out, now you have to deal with the consequences.” I point a finger in his direction.
“Guys, it’s okay. I’m fine,” Eli says from where he’s listening in the hallway. He hasn’t looked like a little boy in a long time, but with his shoulders hunched and his head lowered, he looks younger than his seventeen years.
“Go to your room and stay out of it,” Dad yells, and Eli drags his feet back down the hall.
“Don’t yell at him. He’s not the issue,” I say.
“That’s right. He’s not. It’s you. Now I’m going to tell you one more time,”—he stomps toward me and shoves me in the chest—“get your ass out my house.”
I feel everything all at once. Resentment for what should’ve been my most fun years. Anger for being judged on something I can’t fucking control. Bitterness for having my own father treat me like scum. All of it. I shove him back. His nostrils flare, his eyes widen, and he breathes out heavily from his mouth. He charges at me, throwing his shoulder into my gut. We land on the ground, him on top of me. He throws a punch that makes perfect contact with my cheekbone. I feel a gush of warmth stream down my face.
I don’t want to hurt the old man, but I’m not going to lie here and take it either. I block his swings and roll to my side, hoping he’ll be forced off me, but he’s not. I’m stronger than he is, but he’s got at least seventy pounds on me, making him hard to move. We wrestle around, each of us trying to get the upper hand.
“You’re not my kid,” he grits out, throwing another punch that lands on my ear. Pain explodes from inside my head and all I can do is try to block his attack. Apparently, I’m not the only one who has pent up emotion.
I sock him in the gut, knocking the air from him, but it does nothing to remove his formidable weight from on top of me. He drives his fist into my jaw and I cross my arms over my face to block future hits. I don’t want to hurt the old man, but he’s giving me little choice.
The next thing I hear are sirens and the front door being thrown open. Someone drags Pops off me. It’s the sheriff, Jaxson. Pops tries to throw a punch at him, but Jax backs up and holds his hands out, clearly surprised.
“Mr. Dixon, this is not a road you want to go down,” he says.
Realization hits Pops and his body slumps, his face f
alling, and the fight visibly leaving him.
“I-I’m sorry, Sheriff,” he mutters.
“It’s okay. Why don’t you go have a seat in the living room, and I’ll be there in a minute.” Jax pats Pops’ shoulder. As soon as he’s out of sight, he approaches me. “You need an ambulance?”
“No, I’m good. Just a little blood.” I lift the hem of my shirt up and wipe away the stream of blood. “I have a first aid kit in my car.”
“Let me go grab it. Trunk?”
I nod and he walks out the front door. My adrenaline crashes, and I realize the extent of what just happened. This is Jerry Springer shit. I never in a million years thought I’d be in a physical altercation with my own dad. I’d gone so long making excuses for his behavior, and I realize now that it was self-preservation. I think I knew in the back of my mind this is how things would go if my sexuality wasn’t an idea any longer, but a reality.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do.” Eli’s small voice comes from the darkened hallway. He must be the reason for the cops.
“Come here.” I manage to pull myself off the ground and stand just in time for Eli to tackle me, hugging me around the middle. I pat his back and tell him it’s okay.
“Bo, I got your kit.” Jax holds a plastic red tote out to me.
“Thanks, man.”
“You want to tell me what happened here tonight?” Jax looks uncomfortable.
“Just a little spat. It’s fine,” I say.
“It wasn’t a spat. Pops attacked you,” Eli defends.
“What were you fighting over?”
“Well, I’m gay and Pops doesn’t seem to like that fact.” I speak freely because the sheriff is gay too. He came out not that long ago and is living with some developer.
“Shit.” Jax rubs at the back of his neck. “Do you want to press charges?”
“Technically, I don’t live here anymore. He told me to leave, but I wanted to have a conversation. Does that make it my fault?” I pry myself away from Eli and crack open the tote. I pull out some gauze and apply it to my cheekbone.