Page 8 of Fusion (Gravity #2)

Dash/Beau

Dash

Eleven days later

Chicago, Illinois

“No, I’m not doin’ that,” Beau said firmly, giving his final say in the matter.

A long yawn followed his unyielding negation of a simple suggestion. Turned out, it was a good thing I understood the language of talking through a yawn because most of his explanation was given that way.

“It’s already weird that we’re sleepin’ together online like this. And besides, you’re spendin’ too much money. Why did I need a laptop after that expensive phone you purchased?”

“I disagree.” I paused as I watched my guy dramatically flip to his back and interrupt an ensuing argument forming on my lips.

“Of course, you do,” he said sarcastically, giving the same drama-filled hand movements that were now becoming part of the way he spoke. Then a final hand slashed through the air to drive his decision home. So much attitude that if I didn’t know better, I’d consider him Italian. Which was my favorite country to visit.

“Will you let me finish a sentence? I let you say your peace. Now, it’s my turn,” I explained as patiently as possible. And dammit if my guy didn’t cut me off again. Beau was so challenging at times.

“You only get a say when you’re not tryin’ to change my mind. All you do is continually try to do things that make me uncomfortable. Have you ever considered you’re a pervert?” He tossed the question out like that was new information. I did enjoy a little of the kinky stuff—his words, not mine.

“It’s been days and days since I held you last. I haven’t kissed you or made love to you…” I countered, changing tactics.

“I’ll be there in thirty hours max. If you’d allow me to go to sleep, I’d be far safer on the drive tomorrow.” He sounded reasonable, even right, but I wasn’t in the same mindset. My turn-around trip the previous weekend hadn’t even allowed for an overnight. My schedule had been cut short due to a group project that I needed to be present to complete. I missed my guy. We’d been living our life through Skype. Everything we did, eating dinner, packing the things I wanted to bring, falling asleep at night, all done on video. What was truly influencing my current quest was that I wanted to have video sex at least once in my lifetime. Beau’s refusal consistently came by way of safety concerns. He didn’t do technology and didn’t trust the process. He wanted our privates to stay private, not potentially out for the world to see.

The thought behind his rejection was sweet. He didn’t want anyone else to see me that way. I, though, didn’t have those hangups. I liked watching my guy come. Many times, I encouraged him to jack off, only helping his release in order to catch him in the throes of passion. Beau Brooks did it for me in every way. I missed him.

Instead of trying to battle this out, I put my money where my mouth was, or better said, I put my laptop on my thighs. My hard, ready cock on display. I clutched around my shaft, giving one sure tug. Based on my limited view, I only caught Beau’s head coming closer to the screen.

“You’re always so responsive. I like that a lot,” he said, his tone turning husky and rough, his bottom lip sliding between his teeth. I needed to remember that Beau responded better to action than words. My guy liked our sex as much as I did, maybe more now that he’d found the joys of bottoming.

“Then join me, Beau. Touch yourself for me. Don’t hold back. I’m not.” The groan that left my lips was from the way he stared at me like a prime piece of meat. His gaze turned needy and appreciative. The fight vanished. He lowered, pushing several pillows underneath his head to see me better.

“Hey, where did you go?” he asked, my laptop sliding off my thighs as I shifted my upper body to see better.

Elation and frustration flowed through me at finally getting my way. Elation because of a naked Beau and video sex. Frustration because I could’ve been doing this every night before bed if Beau had allowed it sooner.

“I’m here.” And, boy, was I completely there.

Beau stroked his swollen, ruddy cock.

“You’re sexy as hell. I knew you’d be. I wish I was there to taste your tip. You’re like an ambrosia…”

Beau chuckled at me, stopping my attempt to dirty talk us through the deed. “I appreciate your effort, but my come tastes like ambrosia?”

All right, he caused me to laugh too. “Delicious a better word?”

“Still probably a stretch,” Beau said, his voice growing husky while he gave into the friction of his fist. I wished I was there to jerk him off. “I love watching you, Beau. Your cock’s the pinnacle of my dreams.”

“Pinnacle?” Beau murmured. Always ready to give me shit about something.

I didn’t have an opportunity to respond as my guy began a measured pumping of his hips, riding the pleasure wave he created. He dropped his head back, amping up the rhythm of his skilled hand. He’d recently gotten into tugging at his balls, that proved true again tonight.

My gaze riveted on Beau, I didn’t want to miss a single visual of my big guy working his release. Even when his full body splayed across our bed, and the laptop fell cockeyed—funny choice of words—I didn’t ask him to correct the position. The new vantage point made Beau’s cock and sac the feature of my screen. I swiped my thumb over the beads building in my slit, spreading the pre-come over my tip.

“You like rubbing one off for me, don’t you?” I whispered huskily. My tone sounded more like a purr as my body heated, lost to the show of my gorgeous guy getting off.

“Always do.” The view changed again. The laptop was left on the bed, showing me a direct shot of his ass. Jesus, I had nothing on Beau’s ability to entice as his wet fingers came into view. My gaze locked on the screen. I lifted on an elbow to see better. Beau spread his ass cheeks open and pushed his fingers inside his hole.

“You’re beautiful. That’s my hand driving in your ass.”

“Oh,” he began, saying the whisper on repeat.

“Find the gland, Beau. Like I’d do if I was there.” He did what I asked, taking his fingers deeper. His undulating hips didn’t disappoint. I knew they wouldn’t, I’d seen that same reaction during our sex, over and over again. “Fuck, that’s hot.”

“I’m not fightin’ it. I’m strokin’ my cock too,” Beau hissed, turning his head toward the screen. The pump of his hips swayed with his fingers driving into his ass. His narrowed eyes had me back to forcing my cock through my fist. Dammit, if the look on Beau’s face wasn’t enough to force my orgasm free.

I joined Beau’s moment, imagining his calloused palm working me to my end. The image of Beau gripping me, stroking my pulsating cock to completion became the only thing I saw. My nerve endings tingled and their electric tentacles raced over my body, which hummed in response. I gripped my cock tighter, bucking up and down as my release surged from my balls.

“I’m gonna come…” The universe knew that I tried to watch him, but when I started this, I’d had no idea how completely this would get me off. I fisted the bed sheets, my feet drawing up under my bent legs. I was on fire as I reached for my sac, my balls drawn into my body. The intensity of pleasure proved to be too much.

How did he still fill me with such blinding need?

I didn’t want to miss Beau’s release expression—it was hot as fuck—but my orgasm erupted of its own will, splattering come against my belly and chest. I rode the orgasm out with my jaw clamped, my muscles seizing, my breath stuck between exhale and inhale. Somehow, I caught the moment Beau plopped to his back, his cock straining as his orgasm emptied in the same way mine did.

“Aghh… yes !” Beau exclaimed. I watched in awe as Beau screwed his eyes shut tightly, his head thrown back, his chest arching off the mattress. What I didn’t see, but knew without question was there, were his full lips parted slightly as he mumbled incoherently. The same gestures he made every single time we were together intimately. My body shook at the intensity of my emotions, proud to have captured such a beautiful man’s love. Beau was exceptionally put together.

“Fuck,” Beau panted. The expected yawn followed.

“Use the wipes,” I instructed. Usually, cleaning us after sex was my job. “You’ll sleep better if you’re clean.”

Beau barely moved, only lifting a hand to the wipe-warmer on top of the nightstand. He gave one swipe up his chest. Another followed the same path as the first before wadding the towelettes together. I felt certain that his toss didn’t make it to the wastebasket tucked close to the mattress.

“Did you set your alarm to pick Scott up at the airport?” I asked. Beau turned on his side, facing the laptop, drawing the soft, plush throw over his body.

“I wish you were here. I like to cuddle you after we do it,” he said. “Don’t tell Scott my secret.”

I grinned while watching him draw a pillow into his arms, knowing that it would be me anchored there, usually not in a comfortable way.

“I liked tonight. Thank you. Keep the laptop on, I wanna watch you sleep.”

“You gotta stop spendin’. We’re on a budget.” A heavy breath followed as Beau fell asleep. I left the mattress for the bathroom and was back within a minute. I enjoyed watching Beau at rest. He always looked so peaceful and relaxed. I missed him desperately.

He had seven and a half hours before he had to rise and go to the airport to pick Scott up. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t grab a book or use my laptop to study. I lay there, alone, watching Beau, so thankful for the life we were forging together.

“I love you,” I said quietly. I received a perfectly timed snore in return. “I can’t wait for you to get here. We’re starting over again. Funny how we keep doing that. Maybe this time will stick.” My hand fisted in reaction to the need to reach out and touch my guy. I tucked the pillow under my cheek and continued to stare for several hours. What a love we shared.

Beau

Dallas, Texas

A rare cool front pushed through Dallas, making today, late in May, feel almost like early springtime. The sun shone, a gentle breeze blew over us every now and again, and the birds were chirping their little tunes. All positive signs for the official relocation day.

“Fuck, Brooks,” Scott said in his most annoying whiny tone. “Why couldn’t you move from Dallas when it wasn’t so fuckin’ hot?” Clearly, he had no idea how truly heated the DFW area got this time of year. He also followed right on my tail from the house to the bed of my pickup truck, a couple packed boxes in his hands.

“What did he say?” Dash asked from the earbud currently stuck inside my ear.

“He said it’s hot here,” I said. This back and forth, repeating what the other said was getting old fast. Since Dash had insisted on being on the phone every leg of the trip, I felt like twenty hours from now was going to be my breaking point.

“Right?” Dash answered. “But it’s chilly here. I’m still wearing a jacket and long pants. Make sure you have your jackets or coats handy. It’s not expected to warm up for another few weeks.”

“We got ’em in the cab.” I hoisted myself into the truck bed, scooting the boxes in was like playing a game of Tetris.

“What’d he say?” Scott asked, pushing each of his loads toward me. I rose to my full height, stretching out my shoulder and arm to help release the tightness there.

“He said it’s cold there,” I repeated, keeping the rotation of my arm circling. This muscle ache could be due to the stress both men were putting on me as opposed to an actual strained muscle.

“Mr. Beau, is this rod in the backseat for Dash’s clothes?” Amelia asked. She’d taken responsibility for Dash’s clothing herself. She understood firsthand how carefully he treated them, so she wrapped each piece by itself, mindful of any potential long drags. Since it’d be a while before he was able to commission a new bespoke anything, he had been silly careful with what he had available.

“What did she ask?” Dash questioned. My shoulders drooped in the beat down I was experiencing. What happened to my chirping birds and gentle breeze?

“She asked about the rod in the backseat, and yes, Amelia’s the only one hangin’ your clothes there,” I said, starting for the tailgate to jump to the driveway. “Why do you need to be on the phone through this phase of the move? It’d be so much faster…”

“Because I desperately wish I was there. I should’ve taken the day off and flown home,” he said, giving the perfect sorrowful inflection to his tone.

My response to the many different ways Dash had attempted to come home for this move played like a loop out of my mouth. “Since neither of us has a job, I think it’s best for you to stay put. I’ll handle this leg, but it’d be so much smoother if I could hang up the phone. These earbuds are startin’ to hurt my ears.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Dash said dryly. “The earbuds take time for the ear to adapt.” Like I thought, the sad tone was all a manipulation tactic. The new voice in place spoke of something more akin to “buck up, buttercup.”

“If Amelia gets lonely, me and Lauren and Daisy Mae can come stay with her,” Scott said good-naturedly.

“Do they need a place to stay?” Dash asked, apparently having heard Scott just fine. “Amelia won’t mind.”

I didn’t bother responding. That was the other side of the communication problem we were experiencing. Scott and I messed around with each other all the time. What Dash was missing was all of Scott’s facial cues. I’d have to explain those too.

“We started with about fifteen boxes to load then we’ll tie it all down. Amelia’s at least halfway through. Her short legs move pretty quickly. We’ll probably have to help there—” Dash cut him off.

“Please use care,” Dash reinforced. “How did you pack my shoes?” Oh man, like we hadn’t discussed these things at length, several times over.

“She put the shoes wrapped in tissue paper inside the shoeboxes. They’ll be on the floorboard stacked on top of each other to reach the ceilin’.” I felt the wind on my face while, rooted in my spot, I chose my words carefully. If I didn’t say exactly the right thing, I’d be in for a ten-minute instructional one-sided chat.

“Hush. I don’t have that many shoes,” he corrected, but he did, and we both knew it.

“I decided to pack your cologne collection. We had room for it,” I said and started inside to gather two more boxes off the stack.

“Good. I tried to be an adult about leaving those at home, but I’m all for mixing it up. Everything smells good on you.” As he rambled on, my eyes did a dramatic somersault into the back of my head. Luckily, I stopped just shy of labeling his words as the horseshit they were. I had to admit, way back when we first met, Dash was a primper in training. Now, he was determined to be a runway model every time he left the house. I found those fragrances had become his mood ring, and I was learning to crack those codes too.

“He gonna be on the phone until we get there?” Scott asked, shimming past to avoid my slow pace.

“Yes,” Dash called out in my ear. “I’ve got to go to class in about twenty-minutes, then I’ll be on the phone with you the whole way here. Tell him.”

I stared at Scott, nodding him back inside the house. “We’d most likely be on the road if I could concentrate and pick up the pace. Call us when you leave class.”

“The laptop comes with an internet stick…” Dash reiterated.

“Babe, you’ve gotta rein in the spendin’. Our cash is gonna run out too fast if you don’t,” I urged, plopping my load of boxes on the bed then hoisting myself up to carefully stack them alongside the others.

“I’ve been brainstorming some pet names for us. I like Bobo for you, what do you think?”

I couldn’t hold back my sudden howl of laughter, drawing both Amelia and Scott’s attention.

“I’ll never be called Bobo. Got it? You’ve called me handsome, babe, and cowboy, I believe. Pick from those.” This time, I went to the edge and jumped over the side. Before I heard Dash’s answer, the earbud dislodged and fell from my ear. “Hang on.” I worked the hard ear bud back into my now sensitive ear. “Before you repeat what you said, I feel like I like the word baby . Baby. It feels right on my tongue. What do you think?”

“I think it’s perfect. I like it a lot,” Dash said quietly. “I’m going to keep thinking about it. I want a special name. Something that rolls off my lips too. I’ll hang up so you can finish, but there’s no more breaks until you sleep on the ride. Then I still want to be on the phone.”

I stopped dead in my tracks in the middle of the yard and closed my eyes at all the effort it took to have Dash with us in this way. But no matter my irritation, I did like his willingness to spend his free time with me. Falling asleep with his face next to me meant the world to me. “We’ll see.”

“I guess we will.”

“Cocky, aren’t you?”

“Confident in my ability to persuade my guy.”

I laughed a crazy sounding chuckle, knowing no truer words had ever been spoken, and started for the house. “Be safe,” I murmured.

“That’s you. I’ve seen how the FedEx truck bounces around the road when you drive,” Dash teased. He probably wasn’t wrong, but he also hadn’t seen me drive.

“Ha, ha. I’m a better driver than you,” I teased.

“All right, hot stuff.” Dash stopped speaking, then changed the subject. “What about that name?”

“Nope,” I said, grinning. Hot stuff. Oh, lord. “Keep thinkin’.”

“I’ve got you six to two. I’m almost finished,” Scott said, edging past me where I had stopped in the middle of the walkway.

“Go to school. Make good grades. Call me when you get home,” I said.

“Tell him goodbye,” Amelia said, also passing me with an attempt to stay on the sidewalk. She held several coat hangers in her hands.

“You hear that?” I asked and started back inside the house.

“I did. I’ll call her on my way home,” Dash said. “I love you. I can’t wait for you to arrive. It truly feels like a new start.”

“Dude,” Scott confronted me in the foyer. “I didn’t know I was coming here to do all the work. I appreciate the money y’all sent, but being the bitch isn’t my way.”

“What money?” I immediately asked Dash, not Scott who had an instant chuckle and muttered I win .

“I always wondered if you knew. You’re pretty damned cheap to be so generous,” Scott said, lifting two more moving boxes, only four left to carry out.

“I’m going,” Dash said. He mimicked the sounds of faux static in the dead air space.

“Stop. I wanna hear everything you’ve done. We don’t have the money…” I started in earnest this time.

“You did it. You’re making me leave the call,” Dash said, his humor clear in that tone. “I love you.”

“Was it more than a hundred dollars?” I asked, determined to get to the bottom of this.

Dash’s laughter turned downright hysterical. He loved my guess, meaning it was so much more than that. “Be careful. I’ll call you when I’m done. Be halfway here by then.”

This did feel like a healthy reawakening happening to us, a shedding of the past, in the best possible way. “I’ll do my best.”

The call ended with a smile that lasted about five seconds. Scott’s grisly self came through the door.

“Oh no, I got the last two boxes while you talked on the phone. Come stack ’em. Amelia’s makin’ us food for the road. We gotta finish loadin’ his clothes. But we can’t tell Dash we did.” The grumble in his voice was wholly unnecessary. So was the way his boots stomped across the ground.

“Did he pay you to be here?” I asked, following behind him.

“’Course not. He put money in an investment account for Daisy Mae. It’s that college fund deal. If it all works out, she’s gonna be taken care of for college. It happened right after she was born. He hopes she’ll call you both uncles,” Scott said, lifting the last two. “Are you mad?”

We worked in silence as I considered the question.

“I’ll give it back,” he offered.

My “no” was immediate. “I want her to have it. I just wish the money had come from me. Does that make sense? I planned to do something like that when our situation evened out.”

“Yeah, so maybe it’s time to tell you Lauren’s pregnant again.”

I gave myself whiplash, jerking my head in his direction. Another baby? It didn’t seem like he was pulling my leg.

“Yeah, I know. And I’m gonna cross boundaries with you, but I like more meat on her bones. She’s the most beautiful woman in the world to me. I’m always chasing after her. Sometimes the condom’s there, most of the time it’s not. I can’t help it.”

Nobody understood that better than me. “I don’t know what to say. How far along is she?”

“We haven’t told anyone. She’s in her first trimester, we think. It could have happened anytime. You’re the first to hear.” Scott placed his boxes on the tailgate, next to mine. “I’m freaked out.”

“Don’t be,” I said, jumping into the truck bed. “You wanted kids, and it’ll be easier to have them back-to-back. You’ll still be young when they grow up.” Honestly, I was pretty proud of the logic because I was terrified for him.

“Maybe,” he said, this time watching me work. “Dash acts older than he is,” Scott said.

“You think?” I asked, teasingly. “We live like we’re thirty years old and it’s awesome. He’s constantly lookin’ out for me, and I don’t make it easy.” I lifted and stretched. The truck bed was packed solidly. No room to be had. It worked out perfectly. I jumped down and Scott lifted the tailgate to lock it in place. “How you feel about Lauren’s pretty much what happens here.”

“I love you, guy,” Scott said, clamping a hand on my shoulder as he went past me for the house. “And you know I’m so cool with everything, but I’m not ready to hear about your sex life. It seems painful. My ass clenches when I think about it. Not that I’m thinkin’ about it.”

I followed behind him, trying my best to hide my smile. “When the ass clenches, that’s the sweet spot.”

“Nope, not listenin’. I’m gettin’ the food. You go anywhere else,” Scott said, diverting toward the kitchen.

Yup, this was, in fact, a great day.