by Rachel Kane
Dalton told them about breakfasts he had enjoyed all over Europe, about his favorite restaurants in Paris. Noah explained how they'd thought all the china, silver, and cookware from Superbia Springs had been auctioned off long ago, until discovering a cache of it in one of the locked cupboards in the labyrinthine basement.
"Suddenly everything felt very real," he said. "Old samovars they used to use back in the 20s, tools we couldn't even figure out. Remember the cherry corer, Liam? Why would you even need one? But apparently they used to make their own maraschino cherries for a cocktail, down in the bar. Oh god, Dalton, we haven't shown you the bar. You're going to love it. It was supposed to be a secret from the town, because it was Prohibition, wait, did I already tell you, but—"
He knew he was chattering, and he didn't care. He was excited. This feeling he'd had for Dalton, this attraction, had somehow deepened into something more. Would it go further? Could it? Was he even ready for something like that?
He didn't know. But it wasn't like anyone was talking lifelong commitment right now. Guys could stay the night, and then come downstairs and make crepes. It was allowed. You didn't have to get married, for it to happen.
When Liam got up to take the plates to the sink, Noah rose to help him. Dalton did too, but Noah told him he was a guest, and to sit back down.
"You're glowing," Liam whispered at the sink.
"I don't think I've ever felt like this before."
"It shows. So...everything's okay? With the house? With the grant?"
Noah bit his bottom lip. It was the one thing they hadn't talked about. So much was up in the air. Easier to ignore it for now, to enjoy Dalton's company, to avoid worrying him about his dad and brother.
Before he could answer, Dalton's phone rang.
It was an oddly loud sound, seeing to bounce off every tile in the kitchen, every pan hanging from hooks over the stove. Everyone paused, even Roo, to look at him. Not because of the sound itself, but because of Dalton's reaction to it.
The way the smile had dropped off his face, replaced by a grim stare.
The way he had gone pale.
All the laughter in the room, all the happiness, seemed to have vanished in an instant, and Noah had the strongest urge to rush back to the table, grab that phone, and toss it away.
"What...what is it?" he asked instead.
Dalton looked down at the screen. "It's Colby. I'd better take this."
23
Dalton
Some nights you wish would last forever, and not only because you know trouble is coming with the morning. Noah was the most enthusiastic lover Dalton had ever encountered. After their stories, they could have been exhausted, spent, and needed some time to collect themselves. Instead, there had been a sudden shared urgency, a need to connect as strongly on the physical level as they’d just connected on the emotional one. Noah had signaled it first, the way he’d lifted his head when Dalton kissed his brow, tilting his chin upwards so that Dalton could kiss that as well, then his cheeks, then his lips. What had begun as a tender, sweet kiss turned more aggressive as Noah took control. There was something he needed from Dalton, something he could not articulate, except through his body. Dalton could understand it, could translate it as easily as if it had been spoken in words. They shared this language, and that recognition served to draw him even closer, responding to those ravenous kisses with hands and chests and legs.
Noah had led him through the dark with a certainty in his step, a sense of ownership of every twisting path from the spring-house, through the dense garden, to the back door. He was like a burglar, stealthily creeping through deserted halls and shadowy rooms with a light step, drawing Dalton after him, pausing only now and then for another kiss, another touch, reaching down and squeezing Dalton’s growing hardness as though for reassurance, then gliding up a set of narrow stairs with a speed that Dalton was afraid to match, the steepness of the steps unfamiliar here in the dark, but Noah would not accept any hesitation, and pulled him along, the only sound a light and quiet laugh in his voice that reminded Dalton of the sound of the water falling into the tub.
Here was the strange round room, its curtains open to the night, the stars and the moon providing a soft silver glow, and Noah pulled Dalton’s wet shirt from his shoulders; there had not been time to dry off before leaving the spring-house, time for nothing but dragging on one’s clothes over wet skin, laughing like kids getting away with something, and now it was time to remove his things again, let them drop to the floor, and to reach beneath Noah’s shirt and help him as well, lifting it over his head, pulling where it tried to cling to him, until he was bare as well.
In the moonlight Noah looked like some supernatural creature, a fairytale boy who should have had wings to go with his puckish grin. Dalton could not help but to kneel before him, to kiss him, his hipbones, his navel. Noah shuddered under his touch, as Dalton’s fingertips lightly played over him, those ribs, the small nipples hard and dark. Let me count all your parts, Dalton thought. Let me study each of them. There would be time for that. Time to go over his body slowly, lovingly.
But right now, Noah hungered for him. That was obvious from the cock jutting from him, the cock that brushed against Dalton’s throat when he kissed Noah’s belly again. It needed his attention. Ached for it. He included it in his kisses, in his lip-led journey across Noah, letting it touch his mouth, his tongue. He could swallow Noah easily, eagerly, and listened to his lover gasp when he did. It was like their bodies were made for each other, custom-designed for exactly this moment: Noah’s cock lodged inside Dalton’s mouth, his buttocks cupped by Dalton’s hands. Even their breathing was synchronized, as Noah’s quickening gasps were matched by Dalton, realizing Noah was on the brink, realizing he was about to release, drawing him closer and closer to that moment…
“Oh god, Dalton, oh… I can’t… I need…” The words were formless but their meaning was plain, as plain as the way Noah’s fingers entangled in Dalton’s hair, drawing him closer, pressing himself forward.
When it was done, when Noah had stifled his cry through clenched teeth, but thrust into Dalton’s mouth, when he had come and the taste of salt was on Dalton’s tongue, when Dalton had gratefully swallowed every drop Noah could offer him, then Noah sighed and fell back onto his bed, arms splayed wide, gasping, cock still hard. “Wow,” he’d whispered.
Dalton had not finished with him yet. He would not be left unsatisfied, not when he was this turned on, this on fire, not while he could still taste Noah’s cum in his mouth. It drove him too wild. Noah knew it, too. That mischievous grin, half-hidden by shadow, drew him on.
A whispered urgent question, and Noah was gesturing toward the nightstand, the simple equipment of an encounter like this. So little was needed. Dalton prepared his fingers with the small tube of lubricant he found in the nightstand drawer, then turned his attention back to his new lover.
They’d only shared one night together before. There was so much to learn about each other. So many questions to be asked, but none of them could be asked now, not in the hungry silence of this room. He found Noah’s body willing and able to take first one finger, then a second. Noah had been in ecstasy before, but Dalton could tell he was driving him even further now, with each press of those fingers. He could slowly draw them out and feel Noah shudder, groan, the air tense with a whimper that sounded like begging for more. He half-thought about not fucking Noah at all, not with his cock, just finger-fucking him for the rest of the night, letting Noah come over and over. Clearly Noah was ready for it, his cock hard, his balls tight, even though he had come only moments ago.
But there was no way he could hold back, not for long. He needed Noah’s ass, needed it tight around him. He freed his fingers, and quickly worked his way through the condom wrapper. Noah eagerly swatted his hands away, and helped him roll the rubber down his hard shaft. “I need it so bad,” Noah whispered to him.
Dalton didn’t need any more prompting.
When he sli
d home, Noah couldn’t keep quiet, and uttered a muffled moan of pleasure into his pillow that nearly had Dalton coming all by itself. He kissed Noah, bit his lips, tasted his tongue, but so much of his attention was down below, where he thrust slowly into the man, every inch a journey bringing him to the edge. He could feel Noah’s hands on his lower back, urging him on, could feel Noah wrap his legs around him. He was so light. Dalton lifted him off the bed entirely, keeping a tight grip on him, kneeling upright on the mattress as he lowered Noah onto his cock, feeling the sweet strain in his shoulders, feeling Noah cling to him. He could carry Noah anywhere like this, feeling his ass riding him.
Back in the spring-house, he knew Noah hadn’t meant to use the word love. It had come out as an accident. Surely it was too soon to talk about such things.
Still, as he fucked Noah, as Noah clung to him, he had to ask himself, what else could this feeling be? What else could explain the rightness of it, this sense of belonging? He’d never felt anything like it before. It drove him crazy, this sense of perfection, that Noah could be his, now and for all time. They could just fuck like this…forever. He knew he couldn’t last long. He pressed Noah back down onto the bed, lay atop him, chest to chest. Began fucking harder, faster, letting Noah’s tight ass bring him closer and closer to completion. Noah looked him in the eyes, lifted his head for another kiss. Wordless. No words were necessary at all, to explain what was happening between them.
When he came, there was no room for thought anymore. It was pure sensation, the feeling of Noah squeezing him, the feeling of his balls giving up their load, the spasms of pleasure that passed through his entire body, but centered on this connection, lodged deep in Noah’s ass, a pleasure that made him shiver in delight, that seemed to draw every spark of energy from his body into one bolt of lightning, sizzling down his cock.
He fell to the bed next to Noah, and side by side they pulled each other close.
There was so much he wanted to say. There were so many things he wanted to tell him.
Maybe they’d talked enough for one evening, though, because the silence trailed between them, punctuated only by the quiet sounds of a kiss here and there, and then the slow, steady breathing of two men who had finally found safety and security in one another.
Dalton stared down at the phone. He did not want to take the call. He wanted to find a window and throw the phone out of it. Wanted to put it in the oven, and let the gas flames melt it to nothing. He excused himself and left the kitchen, wandering blindly down halls until he emerged into an empty gallery, dark squares on the wallpaper where pictures used to hang. God, I don’t want to talk about this, he thought one last time, before tapping the screen.
“What’s up, Colby?”
“Where are you?”
“Why don’t you just tell me what you want to tell me? Did you get those lawyers to Dad’s room last night?”
“You fucked up. You really did. You should have stayed. Dad was enraged that you walked out.”
“Yeah, I wonder why. Oh, that’s right, because you’ve been turning him against me. Well, good job, brother. I never thought you were the backstabbing kind.”
“I’m just thinking about the good of the company.”
“Are you? Is that why you turned what was going to be a gift for Dad into a weapon to use against me? Was that for the good of the company?”
“I don’t want to do this over the phone, man. Where are you? Let’s get together. Have a meeting.”
“Yeah, now you want to face me. Just tell me what you did, Colby. Did you get me fired?”
“I would never do that. You’re family, Dalton.”
“How kind of you.”
“But I don’t think you’re able to run the business. I don’t think Raines Holdings needs you in that capacity.”
Dalton smiled and shook his head. That capacity. Colby was the coldest person on earth when he wanted to be. What must it be like, to be that heartless? How did it not keep him up at night?
He heard a soft footfall behind him, and turned. There was Noah in the doorway of the gallery, asking a question with his expression, those raised eyebrows communicating both worry and reassurance.
It’s my brother, Dalton mouthed, and Noah nodded. He came into the room and stood next to Dalton, gripping his hand.
“So tell me what capacity you’ll have me in,” he asked.
“We’re going to move you to chief operations officer. Now, you’ll still control a lot of the company—”
Dalton laughed. “Oh, nice. Nice. You get the finance side, the real estate side, while I handle the factories. No, that’s fine, I like the factories, Colby. If this is a punishment—”
“We’re also taking you off the Raines Foundation board. No more work with the charity.”
That stopped the laughter. “What?”
“We need you to focus, man. Dad needs you to focus. No more wandering around trying to give money to your boyfriend, or whatever that guy is to you. No more trying to funnel cash into that old house. You understand? All of that is over. Come back, do your job. Make tons of money. Like we used to do, remember? Back when life was good, before Dad had all his problems? Things can go back to the way they were.”
“Give up Superbia Springs. Give up Noah. That’s what you’re asking.”
He saw Noah’s face pale, his eyes widen in shock.
24
Noah
There was a silence on the other end of the line, Noah could tell, since he could hear the conversation clearly…as much as he wished he couldn’t. Colby had stopped talking.
Part of him thought he should grab the phone away from Dalton, and give Colby a piece of his mind. Not that that would’ve helped anything, but it would have been satisfying. Except that he remembered when he used to try to referee fights between Liam and Judah back when they were younger. That never turned out well. You can’t get in between brothers when they’re fighting. They can be more vicious with each other than they can be with other people. Except that Dalton wasn’t being vicious at all. He had gone quiet and cold, as though all the feeling had drained out of him.
“That’s what you’re saying, isn’t it, Colby? No more Noah, no more Superbia Springs?”
A breath from the phone. “Come home,” Colby said. “Let’s talk this out.”
“We’re talking now.”
“No, we’re not. This is the same problem we’ve been having lately. You’re there, aren’t you? Don’t you see, that’s the problem? If you’re always there, you can’t be here, and we need you. The company needs you. Dad needs you.”
It sounded so reasonable, and from any other voice might have sounded kind, but there was nothing kind in Colby’s voice. It was oily, manipulative, with a thin edge of sarcasm, thin enough that it could be denied if challenged. It was an attack.
Dalton glanced over at Noah. His look was blank, emotionless. Where was the man he had been with last night, the man who felt things? The man who had taken him in his arms?
One thing seemed certain: The closer Colby got to him, the deader Dalton seemed.
“Hang up,” Noah whispered. He gestured at the phone. “Just hang up.”
Dalton looked down at the screen, scowled. “I’ll talk to you later, Colby. When I’ve had time to process.”
“Damn it, Dalton—” But the call was cut off, and Dalton slid the phone back into his pocket.
The one thing Noah wanted to do, was the thing he knew he must not do. He couldn’t tell Dalton what to do right now. He couldn’t say ignore Colby, he couldn’t say stay with me.
What can I say, then?
That was the question. Colby had offered Dalton a stark choice…and a choice which would let Noah know just how much he was valued in Dalton’s heart.
It’s too much to ask, though. If this had come up a year from now, I could’ve argued, could’ve made my case. But now? The thing between us is just starting, it’s just now growing. I can’t ask him to give up anything to save it, it wouldn�
��t be fair.
On the one side, Dalton’s entire life—his business, his family, his fortune. On the other, this little thing, this relationship still in the bud. They couldn’t know if it was even going to work out between them. Plenty of men had abandoned Noah after a few days, a couple of weeks. He shed them like winter coats in the spring.
Did it matter that Dalton wasn’t like those guys?
Did it matter that something had happened between them, some connection, that was already deeper and more meaningful than any of those men from the past?
What was Noah allowed to ask?
How could he stand up for himself against a force like Colby?
He tried to keep the fear out of his voice. “What are you going to do?” he asked Dalton.
The man blinked, shook his head, as though snapping out of a trance. “Do? I don’t know. Wow. For the first time in my life, I have no idea what to do. Everything else has always been so clear.”
It wasn’t the answer Noah wanted to hear, and the uncertainty in Dalton’s voice worried him. Where was the powerful billionaire, the force of industry, who always got what he wanted?
“I mean, this would all be a lot easier if you’d come to the city with me,” Dalton said. “I could see you all the time, without having to take a jet.”
Noah grinned. “And would you show me off to all your society friends, or keep me in a secluded apartment where Colby would never find out about me?”
Dalton snickered. “That’d work. My secret courtesan. My kept man.”
“I would stare out the window waiting for you, and you’d be late working on some project, and I’d grow thin and pale, wasting away…”
Suddenly Dalton grabbed Noah’s hand. “We could do it, you know. Not the wasting away part. But I could bring you up there. I’d find you a place, somewhere nice, get you set up—”
Noah pulled his hand away. “I have a place,” he said. “Right here. With my friends.”