Page 39

38

Paul

W inter finals are over, and hockey is over for us, so Brendon and I pack some shit into my car, grab Seymour, and head for Michigan. I don’t know if my grandparents have seen the social media posts or news articles talking about our marriage, but Grandma hasn’t said anything about it. A part of me was hoping Dad would call. Even if it was just to tell me that I’m an idiot, something is better than nothing, right? It shows that he pays attention, that he cares. I’m trying not to dwell on it, but it stings.

I’m healed up, and Brendon’s nose is on the mend. We’re both back to working out, though we have to go slower to make sure we don’t push too far and set ourselves back. Once the doctor gave the go-ahead, Brendon and I have been fucking like bunnies. We don’t go more than twelve hours without an orgasm . . . or two. My recoup period is like five minutes. We take advantage.

The drive is long, seventeen or eighteen hours depending on traffic, construction, and weather. It’s a long fucking day of sitting in the car, but with Brendon’s nonstop brain, it’s entertaining most of the time. He sings lyrics, acts out scenes from movies or TV shows, tells stories with ten tangent stories. I love listening to the way his brain works.

By the time we pull into my grandparents’ driveway, my ass is numb, my back hurts, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to need someone to lift me out of this car because all my joints have solidified.

“Baby.” I run a hand down Brendon’s arm to wake him. He fell asleep about two hours ago, which means he probably won’t sleep tonight unless I wear him out. “We’re here.”

I shake his leg, and he mumbles something I don’t catch, so I run my hand up the inside of his thigh, under his basketball shorts, and tease the crease of his groin. He groans this time, shifting his hips.

“Pauly,” he moans, shifting so he’s leaning against me. “Don’t tease me.”

I kiss his cheek and smirk at him. “But teasing you is so fun for me.”

When I start to pull my hand out, he grabs my wrist through the fabric and stares at me with heat in his eyes.

“Please.”

“In my grandparents’ driveway?” I scratch at the tender flesh, and he hisses, but it’s not from pain.

“I can’t get out of the car like this!”

He lets go of my hand, and I sit back in my seat and take in the red cheeks and messy hair.

“I’ll make it up to you later, I promise.”

He groans again, pushing his palm against the ridge in his shorts.

I can’t help but chuckle as I get out and groan myself, but this one isn’t from lust; it’s from the ache in every muscle in my body finally moving. Grandma comes out the door with a smile on her face, making a beeline for me while Brendon gets the leash on our beast.

It’s cold as fuck when I get out of the car but it’s March so that’s not surprising.

“There’s my boy!” She wraps her arms around me, and I have to bend over to meet her height, but I hug her back just as tightly. She will always be home. Even before my mother died, she was my safe place. Mom was amazing and I miss her all the time, but there’s nothing like a grandma’s love.

“Hey, Grandma.” I breathe in the perfume she’s worn my entire life, some kind of soft floral with rose mixed with Downy fabric softener. Age has made her softer, which makes me a little sad. I know some day I’ll have to say goodbye to her, and that day will crush me, but I know I will survive with Brendon by my side.

“How was the drive? Are you hungry? Grab your bags and let me at my other favorite boy.” She pats my back and kisses my cheek before releasing me.

“We will definitely eat.”

I open the trunk of my car and grab our bags while Brendon picks up Grandma and swings her around carefully while she laughs. Seymour jumps around and barks happily. The scene makes my heart happy. These little moments will be permanently branded into my heart. He puts his arm around her shoulders and walks her back to the house with the puppy, letting me carry his shit.

It’s so damn cute that I don’t argue or give him shit.

When I get inside, Mr. Butts is in Grandpa’s lap, licking his face while he laughs.

“I don’t know what you’re cooking, but it smells amazing,” Brendon says as he rubs his stomach.

“Venison stew,” she says and heads to the kitchen. “Bedrooms are made up upstairs.” She points, and I stop with both bags. Brendon looks at me, asking me what I’m going to do without words.

“Uh, we only need one.” My voice shakes, and I brace for their reaction.

Grandpa looks between the two of us and shrugs like duh, and Grandma says, “That’s fine, pick a room then.”

Well, that was anticlimactic.

I’m not sure how to feel about that. Relieved, sure, but seriously? That’s it?

Brendon laughs at whatever expression is on my face, and I huff at him.

“I’m giving you the itchy blanket,” I tell him and head upstairs to my old room. It’s weird to stay in the guest room when I lived in this one for years.

It’s been changed a little. My posters of hockey players were taken down, but my trophies are still on the shelf Grandpa put up, and my team pictures are still framed on the wall. I’m lost in the memories I have in this room, the wins and the losses, the smiles and the tears. This room makes me proud. I’ve come so far, overcome so much, and I’m still standing.

Warmth at my back and hands on my hips have me smiling and leaning back into my husband. The love of my life.

“I love how they kept this room yours,” he says as he lays his chin on my shoulder.

I drop the bags on the floor and reach for his hands to wrap his arms around my waist. Even though we spend so much time together, I don’t get tired of him. He’s my air.

“I’m glad we’re here.” Brendon closes the little distance between us and squeezes me while I hold on to his arms.

“Me too.”

“We’re fucking after they go to bed.”

I chuckle and turn my head to look at him while I grind my ass against his dick.

“I’m sure we can work something out.”

His touch turns from comfort to arousal. In the blink of an eye he’s damn near desperate for me. It’s a high I never expected to experience. It’s romance movie shit, but it’s my life, and I love to tease him, work him up, and leave him hanging.

“I hate you,” he groans as he thrusts against me.

“You love me and my ass.”

He’s starting to pant, his cock once again hard because of me, and he digs his fingers into my skin.

“Please,” he whimpers and licks his lips. “It’ll be so quick.”

“You can wait. It’ll be worth it, I promise.” I turn in his hold, one hand sliding into his hair to pull his head back while the other slips into his underwear to cup his balls. I slam my mouth over his, swallowing his moan. His hands grip my T-shirt in tight fists on either side of my hips, but he lets me play with him. He always does.

“Such a good little slut, aren’t you? So needy but so eager to please.” I lick his upper lip and bite his lower lip. Brendon’s body is tense and so ready to come. This power he lets me have over him is intoxicating.

“Boys! Wash up for dinner!” Grandpa yells up the stairs, and Brendon almost sobs.

“You have ten seconds, give it to me.” I drop to my knees, pull his dick out, and suck on his head while jerking him fast in my hand.

His body bows, and he shoves his hand in his mouth to keep the sound in. He grips my hair and fucks into my hand. I hold up my free hand, counting down the seconds. I’m breathing hard now too, lust licking my veins at the control I hold in my literal hands. The challenge I threw was bullshit, and I knew it. I knew he wasn’t going to be able to finish that fast, but he’s trying so fucking hard. There’s a small part of me that feels bad. It’s really fucking small, though. Like miniscule.

Precum hits on my tongue at nine and at ten, I pull off him, leaving him hard and throbbing.

“Noooo! Fuck!” he yells against his hand while he trembles. He squeezes his eyes closed and covers his face with his hands. The red blush of arousal has climbed up his neck to his face, and I know it’s spread over his chest as well.

It takes a minute, but he grips his hair in his hands and pulls hard. The bite of pain giving him something else to focus on, I’m sure. I wait it out, knowing my grandparents are downstairs waiting for us but not willing to leave him alone like this. His dick is still hard when I stand up and tuck him away.

“This time I mean it; I hate you.” He opens his eyes and glares at me. I smile at him and lean my forehead against his.

“But think about how good it will feel later when you finally get to fill me with cum.” I chuckle when he shivers on a gasp.

“Boys!” Grandma yells this time, and I kiss Brendon quickly, then step away from him, moving to the door to go wash my hands. It’s probably a good idea since I just had my hand on his balls, plus it’ll give both of us a few minutes to cool down. I’m hard and aching for touch, but I know waiting will make it so much better. When did I become such a masochist to myself?

My flushed face catches me by surprise in the mirror when I step in front of the sink. I’ve never seen myself heated from lust, only post-orgasmic, I guess. Interesting. I splash some cold water on my face and am washing my hands when Brendon comes in glaring at me.

I smile at him in the mirror, giving him a wink for good measure, and he breaks into a disgruntled smile. He’s trying so hard not to, but he can’t hide it from me. It’s fucking adorable.

“They go to sleep early; we have all night.” I wink again, and he grumbles something, slapping my ass as I walk past him.

At the table, Grandma and Grandpa are at each end, leaving Brendon and me on either side. The stew pot is in the middle of the table with mashed potatoes and yeast rolls with butter. It smells so good. Venison stew is one of my favorites. It’s hearty, full of protein, veggies Grandpa grew in the garden, and delicious carbs. I serve myself a bowl, layering the mashed potatoes then stew on top as Brendon comes bounding down the stairs making a “meep meep” sound.

Seymour sees him and yips, jumping off the couch to chase him into the dining room.

“Hey, monster,” he says in a baby voice and scratches the dog.

Grandma sighs and shakes her head but doesn’t say anything. I know she thinks he just washed his hands and is now touching the dog, but she lets it go. He’s an adult.

Brendon falls into his seat and pulls one foot up because he can’t sit normally for long if he’s not touching me.

He serves himself, and we all start eating.

“How was the drive then?” Grandpa asks.

“It was fine, I guess. You know, for being locked in a car for a bazillion hours with random cell service and the piss break warden.” Brendon points his spoon at me and rolls his eyes.

“Excuse me? You wanted to stop for snacks every fifteen minutes, not piss.”

Grandma chuckles, a smile lighting her face and enhancing her smile lines. She hasn’t had an easy life, and burying her only child had to have been crushing, but the lines of her face tell her story. While there were hard times and sorrow, there was also lots of love and laughter.

“I was hungry!” Brendon says around a mouthful of food.

“If I stopped every time you said you needed more snacks, we would still be in Nebraska.” I shake my head and shove more food in my mouth. “How’s Drumstick? Is she still broody, or did you feed her to the bears?”

“We got a rooster from Carol Lewandowski down the street. You remember her? Her boys went to high school with you, Jake and Timmy?” Grandma asks, and I nod.

“Shit For Brains is the dumbest damn rooster I ever seen,” Grandpa grumbles. “He gets up in them trees when we open the coop and can’t get down half the damn time. Sometimes I just leave his ass up there and hope a bear will come get him, or a racoon.”

I snort and choke on my food while Grandma sighs, and Brendon just nods along like this is completely normal. I guess it is for kids like us, growing up in the small towns around the big cities. We’re technically an hour from Muskegon in Bitely, Michigan, but it’s easier to tell people I’m from the city. I grew up going to games and practices in Muskegon anyway. Grandma worked there too.

Brendon and Jeremy were from Muskegon, though, so I spent a lot of time crashing with them, especially if the weather was bad and Grandma didn’t want to drive home in the dark during a whiteout.

“Do you eat roosters?” Brendon asks.

“You can if you butcher them at the right time,” Grandpa tells him. “Most of our chickens are laying hens, but some of them damn birds get pissy about us taking the eggs, so we have to get a rooster for a while or give her rubber eggs to lay on.”

Brendon gets into an intense conversation about chickens and rubber eggs with Grandpa, and Grandma nudges my hand.

“One bedroom, huh?”

I smile, dipping my head toward my bowl. “Yeah, one bedroom.”

“When did that start?” She reaches for my hand and holds it. “You’ve had feelings for him for a while, haven’t you?”

I lift my gaze to hers, finding acceptance and sympathy.

“How did you know that?”

She cocks her head. “Sweetheart, you think I can’t tell when my boy has feelings for someone? He was all you talked about for a long time.”

A knot clogs my throat, and I lift my water to my lips to force it down.

“Are you disappointed?” I can’t meet her eyes as I wait for her answer. It might crush me.

“That you found a partner who loves you? That you’re happy?” She shakes my hand and waits for me to look up at her. “No, Pauly, I’m not disappointed.”

Tears well in my eyes, and I cover them with my hand, dropping my head again. She gets up and wraps her arms around me, pulling my head against her chest.

“Any good parent figure just wants their kids to be happy. Who you are happy with shouldn’t matter.”

Seymour lifts his front paws onto the seat of my chair and nuzzles my leg while wagging his tail. I pet his head and scoot back enough to pick him up.

“I’m not making this a habit, little dude,” I tell him. “Dogs don’t belong at the table.”

Brendon scoffs. “He’s gonna have a seat at the table.”

“Absolutely not! You are not feeding the dog at the table.”

Brendon drops his head back on his shoulders and groans like a petulant teenager. Grandma snickers and whispers in my ear, “It’s like looking at Grandpa at the same age.”

That is a mental picture I did not need since I know what we were just doing in the bedroom upstairs.

I snuggle our pup for a minute, then put him down and stand to hug my grandma. I’m so glad I have her and Grandpa. I don’t know what would have happened to me or where I would be if they hadn’t stepped up. I barely know my dad’s parents, so after Mom died, I was left alone until these two figured out what was happening and took me in. I don’t think Dad ever noticed I was gone too.

“So,” I take a deep breath before I continue. “We actually got married when we were in Vegas for a game.”

Grandma pauses for a second, then looks at Brendon who looks like a deer caught in the headlights. Grandpa starts laughing, and Grandma smacks me upside the back of my head.

“Hey!”

“I know! I had to read about it in a news article like everybody else!”

I rub at the spot on my head.

“I was waiting to see how long it would take you to fess up to it.” She puts her hands on her hips and stares at me. “Congratulations, but why didn’t you tell us? We would have flown out.”

“It was spur of the moment.” Brendon comes around the table, pulls my chair back, and sits on my lap. “We didn’t plan it.”

I wrap my arms around his waist and lean my face against his strong back, breathing in the scent that’s just him.

“Pain in my ass,” she mumbles and starts to clear the table. Brendon pops up and grabs dishes too. I take the food in and set it on the counter, then help get it put away. Brendon takes the dishes from her and loads the dishwasher, shooing her from the kitchen.

We work together to get it cleaned up, and I remind him to close cabinet doors. He babbles, sings random song lyrics, and flicks water at me. Even this mundane task isn’t boring with him around.

We’re laughing and fucking around when Grandma comes in with a smile lighting up her face.

“You two are having way too much fun in here.” She looks between us and the wet spots on our shirts. “Make sure you get the water cleaned up so no one falls.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Brendon salutes her. She chuckles and kisses both of our cheeks. “We’re headed to bed. Good night.”

We both say good night at the same time, and my grandparents head upstairs, Grandpa waving at us as he passes us.

The second we hear their door close, Brendon spins around and pins my hips to the counter I’m wiping down.

“You owe me an orgasm.” His tone is rough and guttural.

“You gotta wait for them to fall asleep first, damn.” I push back into him and grind my ass against his dick. “Are you up for a flip fuck?”

Brendon sucks in a shuttering breath through his teeth and bites my shoulder through my T-shirt.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” I reach behind him, pulling him closer, and roll my hips. “Be a good boy and help me finish this up, then we can get to the good shit.”

He groans into my skin, digging his fingers into my hips for just a second before he steps back and gets his work done. It only takes us a few minutes before he’s done and takes the puppy out to pee.

When I get to the bedroom ahead of Brendon, I see someone put a dog crate with a bed and blanket in it for Seymore. Thank fuck. I did not want to try to have sex while the dog wanted attention.

“Senor Butts is such a good pup,” Brendon says, carrying the dog.

“In the kennel. He can come out once we’re done.”

Brendon looks scandalized, holding the dog to his chest like he can’t believe the words that just came out of my mouth.

“Excuse you. First you take him away from the table, and now this?”

“You want to try to fuck while he’s climbing on us and trying to lick your face?” I cross my arms and wait for that mental picture to hit him.

“Yeah okay, you have a point.” He puts the pup in the kennel and puts a blanket over it. “No child needs to see his dads fucking.”

Brendon flicks the light off, leaving only the light from the moon peeking in through the curtains, but it’s enough.

“Strip,” I demand, and Brendon doesn’t hesitate. His Darby U T-shirt hits the floor only a few seconds before his shorts and hockey puck underwear. He’s gloriously naked, that beautiful blush already spreading across his chest and up his neck, and his cock is jutting out from his body. Even in the dim lighting I can see him so fucking clearly. “Your fuck stick looks like it wants some attention.”

Brendon’s breathing increases until he’s damn near panting, and I haven’t even touched him yet. He opens and closes his fists, watching me like he expects me to pounce.

I strip my shirt off and let Brendon rake his gaze over my body before dropping my pants. He whimpers when I wrap my hand around my cock and stroke. I’m hard as fuck and want to come too since I’ve been edging myself along with him.

“Sit.” I nod to the bed, and he sits on the edge, eyes never leaving mine. I get him adjusted the way I want, so he’s farther back, leaning on his hands, and I can ride him.

I grab the lube and one of the butt plugs I brought from our collection.

“Lay back. I want you stretched around this plug while you fuck me.”

“Fuuuck,” he moans and lays back on the bed. I lift one of his legs and open him wide to get better access to his hole. This plug has a long taper so I can prep him with it without needing fingers first, and once I’m ready, I can remove it and fuck him without more prepping. It’ll burn a little, but he can take it.

In and out, I work the plug into him until it’s fully seated, and he can’t keep his hips still. His hands are in his hair, pulling at the long strands, and his back is arching off the bed.

I lick a line up his neglected cock, and he gasps. He throbs like he’s going to come, but I grip his base hard to keep him from losing it.

“I hate you,” he groans, and I dribble lube over him and spread some on my hole as well. Sometimes I like going right for it and not prepping. That stretch, that burn, makes me weak.

I straddle his lap, the soft hair on his legs tickling my ass until I lift up and position him at my hole. Brendon’s eyes pop open and watch me as I tease myself with him. He’s so fucking close to the edge I should be able to get a second one out of him.

Once his head is inside me, I sink down on him, grab the back of his neck, and pull him back up to sitting.

He’s a whimpering mess, leaning back on his hands so he can’t touch me but wants so desperately to. I tangle my hand in the back of his hair and pull his head back, then fuck myself on him. Rolling my hips first, circling them, then rocking before lifting up and slamming back down on him.

He moans, and it’s music to my ears.

“Such a good toy,” I croon as I take him as deep as I can.

“Please,” he whines as his body tenses and trembles. “Pleaaase. I need to come.”

Putting my free hand on his knee for better leverage, I pick up my pace and make him wait for my answer.

“Paul . . . please!” He’s desperate and almost there, almost to the point of no return, and he’s afraid I’m going to make him stop. I love this part. “Paul!”

“Give it to me. Fill me with your cum.” My words are a harsh demand as I ride him hard. “I want your cum dripping from me while I fuck you.” The pace I set is fast, and I’m already sweating. Red splotches explode across Brendon’s skin as he shudders and comes inside me. The warmth and throb of him inside me pushes me closer to the edge too, but I’m not there yet. Brendon relaxes, weak and sated. Sitting up, I wrap my arms around his shoulders and kiss him. He tosses his arms around my waist but doesn’t have the energy to put any pressure into the hold.

The post-orgasm weakness, when his head is quiet and his body is relaxed, is such a turn-on. I love that I can do this to him. That I can work him up, push him to his breaking point, then watch him fall is a high no drug will ever touch.

Once his breathing slows, I lift off him, and he falls back on the bed.

“Come here.” I pull on his thighs to bring his ass back to the edge of the bed and lift one so I can get to his hole. The plug slips out easily with only a little moan from Brendon.

I slick myself up and push against him. He tenses up just a little, but the slide inside is easy thanks to the stretch of the toy. I push his knee to the bed and use his other thigh as leverage to snap my hips against his ass. He’s tight and hot around me. So fucking perfect.

Watching this strong man give in to the pleasure I force on him gives me an appreciation for strength that I didn’t have before. It takes so much power to submit.

He takes me so beautifully, letting me use him in any way I want with no hesitation.

Brendon moans as I use his body, his spent dick twitching against his stomach.

I’m not going to give him enough time to recover and come again. I want my own too badly. I need to mark him, fill him, use him.

“You take it so well,” I groan, and he tightens around me.

“I want it,” Brendon begs. “Please.”

Electricity shoots through me, tingling concentrates in my balls, and I shudder as I empty myself into him. Brendon hooks his leg around me to keep me close as my knees threaten to give out. I lean on his chest to stay upright and breathe through my orgasm.

“Fuck, I love you,” I mutter with my eyes closed, sucking in as much air as I can.

“I love you too, Pauly boy.”

I smile and open my eyes, seeing the love I’ve always been so afraid of shining back at me. I kiss his chest and step back so he can get up.

With cum dripping from both of us, we stand in an embrace and just hold each other. Surrounded by love and support and comfort, I know I’ve found my one and only.