For the Love of Flowers

by Kelsey Hodge

  He stops the kiss to shout, “Oh God, that feels good.”

  I take the opportunity in the break from kissing to reach over for the lube and grab a pillow.

  “Hips up,” I ask. I place the pillow under his hips, raising up his hole. I spread his legs, bending his knees so his feet are flat on the bed. I have enough room to sit between them. I pop the cap from the lube bottle and squeeze some onto Lorenzo’s hole.

  He yelps, “Oooo cold.”

  I apply some lube to my fingers before replying, “It won’t be cold for long.” I push one finger into him, watching as it disappears and then bring it back out before adding another. What a sight it is to see Lorenzo stretching around my fingers when I push them back in. I bend them slightly and when Lorenzo bucks off the bed, I know I got his prostate. I do this a few more times before Lorenzo is panting.

  “Need more. Need you inside me.” I follow his command and lube up my cock, kneel in front of him, so I’m level with his hole. I rest my hand on his knees and push into him, and I smile at the satisfied, “Argh,” that Lorenzo breathes out.

  I take my time so he can adjust to me, and when I’m to the tilt, I adjust my knees, so I have better access. I squeeze a small amount of lube into my hand and cover Lorenzo’s cock with it before wrapping my hand around. I move in and out of him and pump him in time with my thrusts. His hole is so tight around my cock, it doesn’t take long before I feel the telltale tingling in my balls of the impending orgasm. I increase my rhythm, and Lorenzo’s panting increases too.

  “I’m so close,” he yells. This only makes me move and pump faster. I feel his cock get harder for a split second before he shoots cum all over his chest as his orgasm hits. The sight of this pushes me over the edge. On the next thrust, I fill Lorenzo and collapse on top of him, giving him a kiss.

  “Fuck, that was outstanding,” I say then carefully pull out of him and make my way to the bathroom. Returning to bed, I try to take the pillow from underneath him, but he’s a dead weight. “Some help here please?” I ask. With a grunt, he lifts his hip, and I remove the pillow. While I can, I pull the bed sheet from underneath him. I climb into bed, pulling Lorenzo with me, and cover us with the sheet. Tonight will stay with me for quite a while.

  “Wyatt, I love you no matter what. Please remember that.”

  Oh God, that statement pulls at my heartstrings. “I know,” I reply and pull him in close. With his head on my chest, we’re in my favorite position. Soon, the sex and the events of the day catch up with us, and we both fall asleep.

  I wake the following morning in the same position. Even in our sleep, our subconscious makes the most of holding each other, and I would love nothing more than to stay here all day and be close. Duty calls, as they say. I very carefully untangle myself from Lorenzo to not wake him up. I place my pillow in his arms as a replacement and make my way into the bathroom to shower and get ready for work. I make the shower hotter than I would have it, and when I step in, it tingles the skin for a moment. The heat feels amazing. Yesterday had been a long day, with so many twists and turns. The next week won’t get any easier, not to mention the next coming months. I had been so deep in thought, I hadn’t realized that the shower had lost its heat until I feel a blast of cold water, making me jump. I turn everything off and jump out to dry myself off. Wrapping the towel around my waist, I leave the bathroom and make my way to the closet. I choose black jeans and a t-shirt. This seems fitting for my mood today. I then pick out my biker boots, finishing off my dark, brooding look. Once dressed, I head back into the bedroom and make my way over to Lorenzo, who’s still fast asleep hugging my pillow tighter. I briefly kiss his forehead and whisper, “I love you,” and head out.

  I usually love the drive to work; it’s my time to play music and watch the world start its day. Today my car is silent, and I’m eager to get there and go over everything with Liam. I’ll also have to explain to the captain that no one from the force will need to go undercover, but I must figure out how to explain Lorenzo without giving away who he is. When I get to my desk, I see a huge steaming cup of coffee, and Liam is sitting at his desk. He nods at the cup. “I had a feeling you might be in around now.” I pick up the cup, and the heat warms up my hands. I take a sip, feeling the warm liquid travel down my throat as I sit.

  “How are you holding up?” Liam asks, and I know this is linked to the separation more than anything else.

  “I’m getting there,” I reply then add, “I still don’t understand why we can’t go back to the way it was before.”

  I’m conscious that maybe we shouldn’t discuss this while sitting at our desks. As long as we talk like we’ve argued, nobody should be the wiser.

  “I know, but we have to trust Lorenzo. Did he say when he was going to move out?”

  “He didn’t,” I say back to him, looking at the cup in my hand “but I’m guessing within a week. Didn’t his dad say that he only had a week?”

  “I think that’s what he said. Didn’t you guys talk after we left yesterday?”

  His question takes me by surprise, and it causes me to remember last night. I feel the heat in my cheeks. Today I don’t care.

  “Not really.”

  Even with me staring intently at the coffee, Liam can sense my blush.

  “Oh,” he says.

  When I look up at him, there’s a glint in his eye, and it makes me wonder what he’ll ask next, so I take a sip of my coffee and wait.

  “Was it payback for the other night? Is he now walking like John Wayne?” I spilt the coffee all over my desk, and Liam bursts out laughing. When I stare at him in complete shock, he tries to play innocent. “What?”

  “I cannot believe that you just asked that!” I can’t help but smile and get my own back. “No, he isn’t because…” I say, holding up a single finger. “One, last night was more than sex.” I add a second finger. “Two, Lorenzo normally bottoms, so he can handle it. We rarely switch. That’s why I was feeling it. But you’ve given me an idea for a present for him.” The look on his face is priceless. I’m still chuckling as I get up to fetch some paper towels to clean up my desk. When I get back, there’s a look on his face. He wants to ask me something, but he shakes his head, and the look is gone.

  As I clean up my desk, a thought occurs to me. I feel a chill spread down my spine, and I voice it before it takes hold

  “We can survive this, can’t we?” I ask Liam.

  “This will be hard and frustrating as hell, but you’ll be fine. Plus, I’ll be with you every step of the way. Now, let’s talk to the captain.”

  We both walk to the captain’s office, which is based at the other end of the narcotics floor. We knock on the door and wait until we hear the “Come in,” from the other side, and we stick our heads in

  “Captain, you got a second? We have an update on the Alfredo Romano case,” Liam says.

  “Yeah, come in and close the door. This about going undercover?” he says. The captain isn’t the type of guy who gets you to sit in front of him and you tell him everything. He trusts our judgement. He always asks to be kept informed. I’m thankful Liam takes the lead as I’m not sure I could relay all the information needed without emotion coming to my voice. That would cause the captain to ask too many questions.

  “Yeah, it’s no longer needed,” Liam starts. “Our source—the one who left the family—has been told he can come back, and he has decided to do so. He’ll get information that will help bring Alfredo down.”

  I’m pleased to see that this information doesn’t surprise the captain. “We need to make sure this person stays safe. As you know who it is, watch them, but remain at a distance. Any sign that things are going wrong, pull them out. Do you understand me?”

  Liam and I look at each other, surprised at the outburst but answer, “Yes, sir,” together. I’m secretly pleased that I can watch Lorenzo and pull him out if I get concerned. I suddenly feel a lot better about the situation.

  Chapter 25 - Lorenzo

  �
��We’ve gone over this, but why are you leaving?” Wyatt asks, for what must be the millionth time from the edge of the bed, where he’s sitting, watching me bring more and more clothes out of the closet and place them in a box labelled, ‘CLOTHES.’

  “Because we have to play by Dad’s rules. I know you hate it and believe me, I do too, but this must be how it is. We must play by his rules, so I can build up his trust,” I reply and stop myself from rolling my eyes. We’ve been over this so much the past week, every day is a new argument on how I can stay.

  “You’re leaving tonight?”

  “Yeah, Frank is coming to collect me in about two hours,” I say to him.

  “Frank,” he replies in confusion, looking at me. Oh shit, the only thought that pops into my mind. With everything that was discussed on that fateful day a week ago, I had forgotten to mention that Dad had given me back my old cell phone, confirming in one move that he was behind the attack. I know Dad had established it that day, but he has always found a way to use words as weapons. Deep down, I had been hoping I was wrong.

  “Dad ordered him to get me, so I don’t vanish on the way home,” I reply and hope he won’t ask any more questions. I’m wrong.

  “I thought you going back would be a surprise. Keep him guessing,” Wyatt says. Initially, that was the plan. The closer it got to the end of the week, the more time it gave Dad to get plans in place. Without a shadow of a doubt, the moment my deadline was up, the consequences would start. I wasn’t willing to take that risk. Wyatt could have been hurt in the crossfire.

  “I changed my mind,” I say and walk back into the closet to get the rest of my clothes. I’ve deliberately left a few items as a way of trying to tell Wyatt that I’ll be coming back, and that this isn’t forever.

  “You changed your mind. Don’t you think you should have told me?” he says to me as I come out of the closet with my last armful. I hear from the tone in his voice, he’s getting annoyed. I don’t want our final two hours together for God knows when to be angry ones, so I sit next to him and hold his hand.

  “With everything that happened on that day, I forgot to tell you something. I’ve been trying to figure out a way since. I never meant to tell you two hours before I have to leave, but on the day Dad came into the shop, he gave me back my old cell, the one that was taken when I was attacked.” He’s about to say something, but I continue before he has a chance. “So, when I decided yesterday,” I emphasize, “I sent him a message saying how sorry I was. He was right, and I would be coming home today. He replied, telling me to contact Frank with where I was to be collected, and I was making the right move.” I stop and wait for Wyatt to get mad, but there’s nothing. He squeezes my hand tighter.

  “So, he was behind the attack. I had always hoped you were wrong. It didn’t seem real that a dad could do that,” he says, and I give him a look that he reads as me too. “Did you text Frank? Will he give your dad this address?” he asks.

  “I texted Frank a time for me to be collected. He has known where I live from the moment I moved in. He could pick me up here or the shop. He never knew the apartment number, but he’s known the address. This is another thing Frank has kept from Dad. The list of things he has done for me over the years grows from day to day, and I have no idea at the end of this how I’ll ever repay him.”

  I get up from the bed to close the box of clothes. For the past three days, I’ve been packing boxes with the parts of my life I can take with me, making sure that nothing goes in that can le ad Dad back to Wyatt and this home. I’ve allowed myself to sneak in one thing to keep me going—a picture of Wyatt and me together. I cannot even remember who took it, or even where it was taken, but we have our arms around each other, and we’re staring at each other with nothing but love in our eyes. We were lucky enough to have this snapped moment in time, and it’s one of my favorite pictures of us together. Wyatt has a copy too. This photo will be my lifeline, and I’ll guard it with my life, which is why it’s currently hidden inside my shoe.

  I pick up the box and carry it out into the living room with the other two boxes. “Because Frank doesn’t know the apartment number,” I say to Wyatt as he comes into the room, “I plan to go downstairs five minutes before he arrives. So I’m waiting outside. I need to be alone.” I turn to face him, and I see the tears already in his eyes, but he nods his head anyway.

  “Why does this hurt so much?” he asks. “We aren’t even separating for real, but it feels real. To me, anyway.”

  “Wyatt, if you meet someone, and there’s a connection, please take it. We have no idea how long I’ll be gone. If you have a chance to be happy, I want you to have that.” Saying those words almost kills me. I would never deny him anything, even if that meant happiness with another man. These words cause Wyatt’s dam to finally break, and the tears now run down his face. He pulls me into the fiercest hug he has ever given me. When he has composed himself, he takes a step back and looks me dead in the eye.

  “No.” Just in case I don’t catch it the first time around, he says with force, “NO! Not going to happen. I’ll wait for you. Do you understand me? I’ll wait for you. You’re it for me. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, and I damn well know I ain’t gonna feel like this for anybody else. So, shut up with the meeting someone else shit; it’s not going to happen.” This must be the most impassioned speech Wyatt has ever given me.

  I look at my watch and see that a half hour has already slipped through my fingers. I need to explain one more thing to him and ask for something back. I’m not sure if he’ll give it to me, but it’s something I must go back with. Hopefully, I can find the right words to make him understand that I need it. Taking his hand, I walk over to the couch and look at him.

  “I know you’ll be worried about me, so the other day I spoke to my brother and gave him your contact information and Liam’s. He’ll text you updates on how I’m doing. If he feels I’m in any immediate danger, he’ll contact you. It’s the only way I can think of to let you know I’m still safe, without you putting yourself in danger.” He seems to have taken this a lot better than I thought he would, which makes me think something else is going on.

  “Wyatt, I hate to ask you, but can I have my gun holster back?” As I thought, he’s shocked. “I need to go back representing the person I was, which means I should go back with my gun and holster.”

  I see the hesitation on his face. I’m asking him to put a lot of faith in me. He knows that by going back with the holster, there will be a gun sitting in it, and a dad expecting me to use it. After a few minutes, he lets go of my hands, gets up, and heads to the bedroom. I hear the telltale sounds of his gun safe being opened. A couple of seconds later, I listen to it closing and the sound of his footsteps coming down the hallway. I cannot help but feel relieved that he won’t argue with me. When he walks in, I cannot see anything in his hands, but he’s holding it behind his back. He must be giving it back to me with some stipulations. I pray they’ll be ones I can follow.

  He comes to a stop in front of me and kneels. It reminds of that time a few weeks ago when I was in the same position, handing my gun over with a promise for a future that’s no longer certain. What Wyatt does next shocks me to my very core. In one second, he has switched everything on its head. He brings his arms around to the front and even though I expect to see the holster, I don’t expect to see my gun too. Wyatt is giving me my gun back.

  “When you knelt in front of me and handed me this gun, you said it was a symbol that everything you said was true. Now I’m doing the same to you. This is my way of saying that I’ll do anything to keep you safe, and I trust you to do what’s right. I hope you’ll only use this once.”

  I literally have no words. What do you say to the man who handed you hope? Going back with not only the holster but the gun will give the right impression to Dad. I stand in front of him and take the holster out of his hands and remove the gun, placing it behind me on the seat I vacated. Holding the straps of the holster, I slip
my arm through one loop, like I’m going to put on a backpack. I leave it resting on by my elbow, as I put my other arm through the other loop. When I have both arms through the straps, I take hold of them and heave them up, making sure they aren’t twisted and sit central to my back. I shift it around to make it as comfortable as possible and pick up the gun to place it into the rig. I’m dressed in my suit pants and a plain white shirt. The black holster stands out against the white. I get my jacket from one of the kitchen chairs and pull it on, hiding the holster, and turn to face Wyatt. This will be the first time he has officially seen me dressed as the heir of my father’s empire.

  “I always said you looked good in a suit,” Wyatt says, having gotten up off the floor. I go up to him, run my hand through his hair, and place my hand on either side of his face to kiss him. Not my usual passionate, devouring kiss, this one is a lot slower, sensual, and full of emotion.

  I finally find my words. “Thank you.” I know he understands.

  A beep from my watch breaks the spell, and I’m so glad I set the alarm—when I set it, I had thought we might have been doing something more fun.

  “Time to go,” I say. My messenger bag is on the same chair that held my jacket, and I pick it up and put my head through the loop of the strap so it’s sitting across my body. The bag rests above my hip and to the opposite side of my gun. I then bend down and pick up one of the boxes, and Wyatt picks up the other two. Thankfully, they aren’t huge boxes, and he can see over the top of them. I walk to the front door, and once it’s open, I turn around, look back, take a deep breath, and walk out. We travel in silence to the lobby and don’t even say anything as we stand on the sidewalk. I place my box on the floor and indicate for Wyatt to do the same.