Page 79 of Constantly Cotton
The next hour and a half went by fast. Jason pulled the top up, and they hit the desert highway still talking, as though the months between them had never been. They had been driving down a long stretch of absolute nowhere when they passed a gas station on one side and a garage and what looked like a little house on the other. About a mile beyond that, Jason slowed and turned left on a road that meandered behind the small hills that lined the freeway, and Cotton looked around curiously.
“Is this a… a neighborhood?” he asked.
“Mm… sort of,” Jason told him. “It was going to be, and they got about a third of the houses built before they ran out of money. But one house in every three lots, maybe, was fully hooked up and ready to sell.”
“The houses are great,” Cotton said appreciatively, remembering Burton saying something about this place back at the cabin. But he hadn’t talked about the houses themselves. Big, with four bedrooms at least, he’d wager, along with vaulted ceilings and second stories and pools in the backyard, if the glittering water behind one of the fences was anything to judge by. “But who would want to live out here?”
Jason shrugged. “Well, in fact, it’s only about forty-five minutes from my base,” he said.
Cotton took a breath, the implications hitting him, the thrum of his heart becoming almost overwhelming. “Jason. Is one of these houses yours?”
Jason pulled up into a driveway of one of the more modest houses, a ranch-style one-story but with solar paneling on the roof. It had a pool—Cotton could see the telltale glimmer—and drought resistant landscaping in the front, as well as a couple of hardy shade trees.
“Yes,” Jason said, swallowing, and it hit Cotton that this was a big deal for him.
“It’s… it’s amazing,” Cotton breathed. “I—”
“It’s ours,” Jason said, in a rush, and Cotton stared at him. “I made keys for you. You can drive out here on the weekends even when I can’t make it. You can live here, with me, during holidays and over the summer, and after you graduate. And as long as you want to and as long as you love me, it’s ours.”
“Ours?” Cotton said, feeling dizzy.
“Please?” Jason was looking at him now, his face pale but determined, and Cotton wanted him—wanted all of him. Wanted his terrible job and his kindness and the sanctuary he was offering and the life. “I can offer you a job when you’re done with nursing school. Civilian medic, if you like. Or there’s a tiny hospital nearby. I have some friends who work there. You’ll meet them. Or you can commute and live in another apartment and come here when you have days off or—”
Cotton stopped him with a kiss, hard, insistent, no bullshit, and needy. Jason returned it, his mouth beyond needy, on to begging and desperate.
These were the kisses his body had craved during their long months apart. This was the pent-up desire he had banked with the hope—the barest hope—that someday it would be fed again and allowed to flame.
“I will always come back here,” Cotton promised, not caring what he’d have to do to make that happen.
“I need you,” Jason whispered. “I need you to come back here. I need you in my house and my bed and my life. Can you do that?”
“It’s all I ever wanted,” Cotton gasped, and then with a wrench he pulled himself away and threw the door open, barely remembering his go-bag from the back. “Come on, let me see my new home.”
They made it just inside the big white pine door.
Cotton turned his head as Jason closed it and threw the bolt, and then he dropped his go-bag and they were on each other, kissing, panting, pawing at each other’s clothes with such intensity that Cotton heard something rip. It was probably his shirt, but he didn’t care.
They only made it to the bedroom because Jason kept steering him there; probably because that was where the lubricant was.
Jason entered him slowly, eyes focused on Cotton’s face, hips thrusting in carefully. Once he was fully seated, he bent and they kissed, but Cotton’s body was too amped to stay there long.
“Now,” he whispered. “Now.”
What followed next was explosive… and blissful. Their bodies heaved, slapping, and the sweat ran down Jason’s torso, down his face, as he powered into Cotton, reasserting himself, making Cotton his.
Cotton could never be another man’s, not after this.
When Cotton’s crest came, he arched breathlessly, not even touching his cock, and as he shuddered, Jason gave a shout and climaxed inside him, both of them spending hotly as they shivered in reaction.
Jason pulled out reluctantly and hit the pillow next to Cotton, still breathing hard.
“That wasn’t enough,” he panted.
“No,” Cotton agreed, closing his eyes and gulping air.
“I promised myself I’d let you do homework.” He looked so earnest.
“Tomorrow,” Cotton said, nodding. “Tomorrow. I’ll do homework. You sleep in. Now we need more of what we just did.”