He could feel Park’s breath against the back of his thigh, right below the tail of the button-down he still wore. Park’s fingers traced up and down the inside of his legs. “You’re shaking.” He stood and kissed Cooper’s ear. “You’re going to need something to hold on to. Grab the dresser.”
Cooper immediately put his hands down, bending a bit as he did, and Park took a step back. In the mirror Cooper looked at himself in shirt and perfectly laid tie and nothing else while Park walked around him, examining Cooper like he was on display. Naked and moving in that strangely delicate and silent way of his, so at odds with the size of his body, there was something almost wild about him, unmannered and unrestrained. Cooper shivered and Park’s contemplative look shifted into a soft smile.
“Are you going to stare me to orgasm or what?” Cooper snapped impatiently, then jolted when Park’s hand smacked his ass, not hard enough to hurt but enough to leave his skin buzzing and warm.
“If that’s what I wanted to do, yes.” Park’s hand soothed over the reddened skin, just under the shirttail, then slapped him in the same spot again, harder this time. Park met his eyes in the mirror again, checking in with him, making sure this was what he wanted. “Okay?”
“Yes, please,” Cooper whispered, and whimpered as Park’s hand snapped out again with a filthy thwack. He felt his shirt pull up slightly, and the touch of air on his ass distracted him for a moment before Park’s hand came down on his other cheek, one, two, three times, then switched back again until all Cooper could focus on was the heat of his skin, the sting of Park’s hand, and how hard his dick was.
“You’re going to do what I say now?”
Cooper nodded, and Park cupped the flesh of his ass gently, his hands cool. “Good. Stay.” He fetched a condom and lube from his bag while Cooper watched in the mirror.
“What are you going to do to me?”
“Whatever I want.” Park’s slicked fingers massaged the outside of his hole, relaxing the muscle. “Are you going to let me in here or do I need to spank you again?”
Cooper groaned, spread his legs as much as he could with his pants still around his ankles, and bent over farther so that his cheek was resting on the dresser. Park’s fingers slipped inside of him slowly, teasing and testing while his other hand smoothed up Cooper’s spine and grabbed hold of the neck of his tie. He twisted the fabric around until it was flipped and the tail of the tie was wrapped around his hand and positioned at Cooper’s throat like a leash.
He tugged lightly. “Move for me now.”
Cooper started to rock back and forth, fucking himself on Park’s fingers.
“Faster,” Park demanded, and Cooper immediately obeyed, pushing into the stretch. “So eager to please. You’re going to be a very good fuck, aren’t you?”
Cooper gasped against the dresser top and felt the tie pull at the base of his throat again, two insistent tugs. “Look up,” Park said. “Watch yourself.”
He dragged his head up, feeling drugged, and stared into the mirror at his own reflection. He looked wrecked. His shirt and hair were sweaty, the makeshift collar pulled his head up at an odd angle. His lips were parted, gasping, and his eyes were heavy, nearly closed.
“You’re beautiful,” Park said, then added quietly to himself, “So beautiful.”
Cooper felt the flush of pleasure race across his skin, warming him inside out. No, it was even brighter than pleasure. It was joy, pure and simple, lighting him up, erasing the shadows, burning away the twisted knots of anxiety and fear, like dry tinder. He half expected to see himself burst into flame right there in the mirror.
Park pulled his fingers out, and Cooper bit his lip to stop from whimpering at the sudden loss. He craned his head to watch Park roll a condom on and slick himself up with more lube. Park ran his other hand over Cooper’s head, wiping the sweaty strands of hair out of his eyes, and stroked himself lazily, showing off. “You see something you like?”
Cooper nodded, throat dry.
“Know where it’s going to go?”
“Inside me.” His voice was embarrassingly hoarse, nearly shaking. He swallowed a couple times.
“Got it in one. So you’re going to relax that tight ass and take good care of me, isn’t that right?” Park said, and Cooper nodded again. “You want that, too, don’t you? It’s okay, you can admit it. I won’t tell anyone how easily you bent over and begged for a stranger’s cock.”
Cooper’s hips flexed back involuntarily and he groaned.
“I need to hear you say it,” Park said gruffly. “Tell me what you want now.”
“To take good care of you,” Cooper whispered. “To feel you inside of me.”
Park positioned himself at Cooper’s entrance. “And what do you say?”
“Please!” Cooper cried, his voice giving out as Park pushed into him.
All Cooper could feel for a moment was the concentrated burn and the obscene pressure before his body surrendered and the sensation changed, first from an invasion to a deep, throbbing satisfaction, and then to the overwhelming desire to move. He tried to flex backwards again, but Park’s hand held him in place.
“Oliver,” he pleaded. “I need you to fuck me.”
Park took hold of the tie again and pulled it up right below Cooper’s chin. “I will. When I want to. First, you’re going to need to hold on nice and tight.”
Cooper re-gripped the edges of the dresser and looked into the mirror past his own reflection. His pulse jumped. Park was staring down intensely at where their bodies were joined, his eyes huge and shimmering gold, but there was nothing aggressive about them at all. Instead he looked almost bewildered, tentative, and gentle.
Cooper felt another tugging, inside his chest this time. He got the weird desire to step out of the role play for a moment and turn around to press his lips against Park’s and laugh. It was all too absurd, being back here, rewriting his history in this room. It was all too good. A kind of good that couldn’t be contained inside any longer and burst up into his throat and out his mouth until he was grinning like an idiot and a sound like a small exclamation escaped his throat.
Park met his eyes in the mirror, questioningly, checking.
Cooper shook his head, afraid to open his mouth again and be surprised by what confessions came out. He flexed around Park’s dick and gave him his most pleading look. “Please. Take me. Use me.”
Park ran a finger over Cooper’s lips roughly, like he just needed to touch, and then began to move. Slow, long pulls at first that sped up into a punishing rhythm that drove Cooper down farther until he was flattened against the wood, muscles trembling, and the dresser knocked against the wall over and over.
Cooper was gasping and begging, the tension in his body building fast, when Park abruptly stopped moving. In charge or not, Cooper nearly turned around and snapped at him, he was so frustrated, but when he peeled his face off the dresser to complain, Park’s reflection didn’t look teasing. In fact, he was just staring off into space and frowning.
“What? What’s the matter?” Cooper said before he heard it, too. The beeping of an open car door coming from outside, in the direction of the driveway. Cooper made a noise somewhere between anger, worry, and arousal, and Park’s attention jumped back to him.
Park looked at him for a moment, then hauled him up to standing by his throat and whispered in his ear, “If you want to stop, pinch me.”
The arm around Cooper’s waist tightened, holding him in place, and the hand at his throat moved up and covered his mouth.
Cooper didn’t expect the spike of arousal that shot almost painfully through his balls, and he groaned, tasting Park’s sweaty palm.
“Shhh. You’ve got to be quiet for me now,” Park murmured, then snapped his hips forward and continued to fuck him slowly.
Cooper squeezed his eyes closed. He should have been freaking out, or at least less
aroused, but instead he felt bizarrely powerful, righteous, and even with Park’s hand over his mouth and arm around his body, he felt free. Fucking this man, getting fucked by this man, owning the many facets of his desires in this room that had witnessed years of doubt and self-recrimination, felt like vengeance. No, better—justice.
Outside he heard the sound of car doors slamming, and Park adjusted him efficiently so he could get a better angle and sped up. He took hold of Cooper’s dick.
“Look at what a good fuck you are,” Park whispered, stroking in time to his pumping hips. He tightened his hand over Cooper’s mouth. “Being nice and quiet and taking my dick like you were made for it.”
Cooper felt his body spasm and his balls tighten as he teetered on the precipice of orgasm. Downstairs, the front door opened and muffled voices floated up.
He bit into Park’s palm and heard him hiss. “If you’re very, very good I’m going to put you on your knees and paint that pretty ass with my come until it’s—”
Cooper jerked uncontrollably, exhaling hard beneath fingers, and released over and over, shooting across Park’s hand and up his own shirtfront.
His muscles gave out and he collapsed backwards with only Park’s arms holding him up. Or were they holding him down? He floated, only vaguely aware of Park pulling out and lowering him carefully to the ground. He winced when the carpet touched tender skin of his ass, and the unpleasant scratchiness pulled him back to his senses a bit.
Cooper pried open his eyes and looked up at Park, kneeling beside him, his expression strange and his eyes still wide and gold. He peeled off the condom and started to stroke himself. Cooper rolled lazily to his belly and tilted his hips up a bit, letting his ruined shirt fall forward and exposing himself. He heard Park’s sharp inhale, and within seconds felt him ejaculate across his ass.
Cooper listened to his heart rate slow, the beat and the endorphins lulling him into a meditative state for a while. Eventually he peeked over his shoulder.
“You’re still here,” Cooper whispered, his sex-addled brain half-confused as to why his fantasy was sticking around post-orgasm, and half-pleased.
Park’s smile was wry. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Cooper’s lips. “What can I say, I have a hard time walking away from you.” His expression shifted to something worried before amusement took over once more. “Unfortunately for your dry cleaning bill.”
Cooper looked down at his sweat-and semen-stained shirt and groaned theatrically, but inside he wasn’t upset. Not even a little. The price of feeling this whole didn’t even come close.
* * *
“I kind of thought you’d have gotten better at this by now. But you’re still the worst dancer I’ve ever met.”
Cooper winced and looked down at Sophie’s shiny heels. “Sorry, did I step on you again?”
“You’d need to pick your feet up off the ground in order to step on mine,” Sophie countered. “Thank goodness I traded up.” Her eyes scanned the room and she smiled. Cooper looked over his shoulder and saw Dean dancing a wild and completely offbeat swing with a squealing Cayla. “Well, a tiny bit anyway.”
“You make him very happy,” Cooper said.
“The feeling’s mutual.” She not-so-gently pushed Cooper until they were moving across the floor rather than shuffling in place. It still wasn’t quite dancing, but even he had to admit it was an improvement.
Cooper happily let Sophie lead and looked around the room. They’d rented out a large event room at a local inn. It was simple, elegant, and packed. Groups of people, many of whom he recognized but couldn’t name, stood around chatting and laughing. Still more people Cooper had yet to see had spilled outside onto the sloping backyard where he could faintly hear children playing while their parents supervised. Inside, the open bar had convinced more than one couple to claim the center of the room as an impromptu dance floor. It was nice. A bit too crowded for his tastes, but Dean and Sophie were both outgoing and well-liked, and seemed totally at ease navigating all the socializing and matchmaking strangers they thought would get along.
He wondered how many of those people were getting to know each other by gossiping about the body in the backyard.
“He’s over there, with Ramon.”
Cooper startled out of his thoughts and followed Sophie’s gesture to see Park sitting with a couple of Ed’s oldest friends. Cooper’s father was nowhere to be seen.
“Sorry,” Sophie said with a mischievous look. “I thought you were looking for Oliver. Dean said you were only just showering when they got back to the house. What were you two doing all day?”
“Working,” Cooper said, flushing. “Most of the time.”
“In that case, don’t listen to what your dad says—you’ve clearly found your dream job. And it’s got great benefits. Benefits that look especially good in those jeans.” She winked.
“I’m assuming Dean talked to you about this morning.”
“Don’t be angry. I spent most of the afternoon grilling him. Honestly, I don’t know what kind of interrogation tactics you use in DC, but if you ever need any tips, call me.”
“I’m not angry. I’m just...it’s a weird time for Park and me, so this on top of it is, well, it’s a lot.”
Sophie studied him closely. “Do you want to talk about it? As your very serious ex, I have unmatched insight into your heart and soul. Or I can pull out the old paper fortune-teller if you want. Pick a number and I’ll answer any question you want about your relationship.”
Cooper laughed. “Can it answer if I’m actually in a relationship? Because that’s my main question.”
Sophie gaped. “I thought you were...never mind. You’re beyond my help. We need to bring out the big guns—consult the Ouija board.”
“Honestly, some supernatural help might be what it takes,” he said.
“What is it about Dayton men that makes them so unwilling to talk about their feelings?” Sophie sighed. “It’s messed up.”
“Hey, Dean seems to be doing fine. He did nothing but open up this morning.”
“You know how much work we’ve done to get him to that point? I insisted he start talking to somebody before we moved in together because I don’t want my kid growing up to think men aren’t allowed to be vulnerable.”
“Well, it’s working,” Cooper said. “He’s a kitten.”
“But it’s still hard for him,” Sophie said frankly. “The only reason it might not have seemed that way this morning is because he’s so worried about you.”
Cooper quirked his eyebrow questioningly.
“He told me about your scars.”
“Christ,” he muttered. “What therapy does he go to when he gets too talkative and open?”
“The way he described them... I know that’s not just a superficial wound, Cooper. Plus, I noticed how you were cutting up your food at dinner. Multiple small bites, over-chewing. That’s recommended for someone who’s missing part of their stomach.”
Cooper stopped dancing.
“You’ve lost significant weight and your nails are cracked, a sign of early or slight malnutrition.”
“Jesus, Nancy Drew.”
Sophie wasn’t in the mood for jokes. “You don’t want to tell Dean or your dad about it, okay, but if you want to talk to someone, don’t forget we’re still friends.”
He exhaled. It was harder to dismiss when put like that. More, he didn’t want to dismiss her. Gently he started dancing again, and Sophie followed suit.
They’d moved halfway around the floor when Cooper said, “It was my small intestine, actually. Lost about six and a half feet of it.”
Sophie just nodded, like this was expected. It made it easier to keep talking.
“It was bad for a while. But I’m adjusting now. I’m...relearning my body’s needs,” he added, using a phrase his GI doctor liked.
�
�Good,” she said. No surprise, no pity, just calm acceptance of the facts. Maybe he had a type, Cooper thought. Maybe all the best people he’d been with were unflappable. He didn’t necessarily need that strength in his life, but damn if he wasn’t drawn toward it.
Cooper took a breath, feeling lighter than he had in a while. “Thanks.” It wasn’t a lot. He’d barely said anything, but just knowing there was someone that he could say more to was enough.
Instinctively he glanced back at Park, hard to miss even in this crowd, and easily one of the most striking men in the room. Tall and broad in dark jeans, T-shirt, and blazer, he was bending down and squinting hard at something Ramon was showing him on his phone. Cooper smiled. For all his super powers, Park still refused to bring his reading glasses with him out in public.
“Park wants to help,” he said to Sophie. “With my recovery. I don’t know why that’s so hard for me.”
Park looked up at him suddenly, as if he’d heard his name. He smiled at Cooper, tentatively, questioningly.
“You’re allowed to not want help. Just because it’s good-intentioned doesn’t mean you should feel forced to accept it. Or feel bad for not wanting it.”
“Yeah,” Cooper said, still staring across the room. “It’s just—”
Park’s head jerked to the right suddenly, and he frowned at something across the room. Cooper followed his gaze and stopped dancing. “What the hell.”
Sophie turned. “What is it? Who are those people talking to Ed?”
“Trouble,” Cooper said shortly, and stalked across the floor, dodging dancing couples with Sophie at his back. “Agent Primelles, Agent Joon, what are you doing here?”
“Mr. Dayton, we’re having a private conversation,” Primelles said, something in his expression satisfied. Like he had expected Cooper to come charging over. The loose-cannon son, sure to just make things worse for his father.
“That’s funny,” Sophie said, stepping forward. “Because this is a private party. I know Dean’s got a lot of friends, but I don’t remember seeing your names on the invite list.”
The Wolf at Bay (Big Bad Wolf) Page 17