Page 10

Chapter Ten

Isaiah

A nticipation thrummed through me as I drove home.

I kept Badarse in my rearview mirror as I approached my building. Giving him the code had only been for if we got separated. If he was close enough, I could just use my remote for both of us.

We were close enough.

Every time I’d tapped his foot tonight, that closeness had, for me at least, increased. I couldn’t be certain about him. He played his cards very close to the vest. He let little through.

Except for moments when he’d let his guard down. When talking to Becca. When sharing some dark parts of his life with Cassandra.

Like when he’d kissed me.

Well, kissed me back.

I hit the remote for the garage.

As I cycled quickly through the evening in my mind, his conversation with Cassandra kept coming to the fore. His brutal honesty.

I understood why he’d done it. He saw his life as a cautionary tale. And, right now, Cassandra was on an incredible trajectory. But things could change in a heartbeat. People died. Accidents happened. Hearts got broken. Those things could lead someone down a dark path.

Badarse was proof one could come out the other side. Yes, with scars, tattoos, and all kinds of other visible examples of pain. But a survivor nonetheless.

I respected him all the more for that.

After exiting my car, I made my way over to him. Without preamble, I snagged him around the waist, and drew him toward me.

He came willingly. Pliantly.

I kissed him. No gentle brushing of lips this time.

No this was tongues entwining. This was grinding against each other.

This was pure passion. I didn’t give a flying fuck if I got hard in my jeans.

We only had a short elevator ride up, and then we could carry this sexual tension to its logical conclusion.

I wanted him. He clearly wanted me. The rest was just mechanics, positions, and orgasms.

He pulled away first.

I gazed into his lust-filled blue eyes. “What do I call you? Travis or Badarse?”

Those eyes flickered with something I couldn’t quite identify. If I had to guess, though, I would’ve said pain.

“You can call me whatever you like.”

“What do your friends call you?” I wanted to ask what his lovers called him, but that felt way too personal a question. And, perhaps, something I didn’t want the answer to.

He cleared his throat. “I, uh, don’t have a lot of friends.”

I ached an eyebrow.

“Well, okay. The mate who nicknamed me was a bit of a friend. So yeah, Badarse has sentimental meaning. My buddy Dodge, who is close to a friend, calls me Trav. I don’t really like that, but I’d never say that to him.”

“Is there a story behind the name Dodge?”

He grinned. “You bet. But we’ll save that for another time.”

“Yeah, okay.” I tipped his chin so our eyes met. “You didn’t answer my question. Badarse, Trav, or Travis?” I hissed that s just a little bit.

He pressed his erect cock against my hip. “No one’s called me that since my mother.”

“Does that make you sad, or—”

“I like it.” He blinked. “Badarse is the guy who goes up towers for a living—risking his life. Trav is the guy who hangs out with his—” He cleared his throat. “—friend, Dodge. But Travis is who I could’ve been. If I hadn’t fucked up.”

I pressed my finger to his lips. “If you’d fucked up, then we never would’ve met each other.

” I sought the right words. “I’ll bet your mother would be proud of the man you’ve become.

You turned your life around. Nothing would’ve prevented her death.

But you could’ve continued down that dangerous and likely deadly path.

Or you could’ve chosen the right way. You did that. ”

“You make it sound almost religious. Like some divine intervention or shit.”

Slowly, I shook my head. “No, that’s my mother.

I’m more pragmatic. I think human beings have free will and that everything is not predestined.

That we choose our paths. And yeah, sometimes we fucking get it wrong.

But we can own that and move forward or we can sit and wallow in the shit. I’m for team Moving Forward.”

He laughed. “I love your attitude. Okay, I think we’ve had enough baring of our souls for one night.” He picked at his jeans. “You have a dryer? Or can I hang them up somewhere?”

If he hung them up, he’d have to stay longer. Right? “I have a dryer. I avoid using it when I can. I like saving money.”

He grinned. “Also an environmentalist?”

I furrowed my brow as if considering before breaking into a huge grin. “Yeah. I like that you get it.”

“I get you.” He pressed a hand to my chest. “Now, I believe I have plans for you. They involve you. Naked. On your bed. Facing me.”

Again, something flashed in his eyes.

My gut reaction, which had no logic but still held, was he didn’t fuck many guys facing them. No, he’d likely gone for impersonal.

Whereas I’d done it both ways. I’d had some long-term relationships and would even own I wish one or two of them had lasted.

Alas, they hadn’t. But if they had, I wouldn’t have been in the bar last Friday, and I certainly wouldn’t be standing here with this loveable man on a Saturday night. I snagged his hand. “Come.”

“Oh, I intend to.” He grinned wickedly.

When he did that, I barely noticed his scar. No, I was too entranced by the inherent gentleness that appeared when he let his guard down.

The ride up in the elevator proved an exercise in patience.

Of which I had very little

Still, we stumbled into my condo, and I managed to lock the door.

He cupped my crotch.

I moaned as I nuzzled behind his ear. He smelled like the earth. Like the smell I got when I skidded into the grass with a ball tucked under my arm. Which made absolutely no sense…but I’d take it as a sign.

In return, I snagged his ass. Then pulled back. “You’re damp.”

“Yeah.”

“You can drape your jeans over a stool in the kitchen, or you can toss them into the dryer.” I held my breath.

He nipped at my chin. “Better to be environmental and cheap, right?”

I exposed my throat. “Oh hell, yes.”

He chuckled. He removed his boots, then headed toward the kitchen.

I toed off my running shoes, then made my way to the bathroom.

Mamba followed me with an indignant meow.

“You’ve been fed.”

She glared.

“You’re going to be good tonight. I’m about to get lucky. So, like, go play with your stuffed mouse with catnip.”

She didn’t look impressed.

I gave her a scritch, then shooed her out of the room. “Mamba’s a good cat.” I tossed that out for Travis, belatedly realizing me might not even know I had a cat.

Oops.

Still, I was in a hurry. A quick piss and a glance in the mirror had me smiling. I’m going to get laid again. Oh wow. I’d thought after he’d left last weekend that we were done. Seeing him this afternoon had knocked me sideways.

Thank God Cassandra’s so bossy .

I’d been struggling for words.

She’d made certain Travis agreed to come to dinner.

Travis .

I liked his name. I liked that no one ever called him that. I liked that, in essence, he was gifting me with something precious—a piece of himself that he never shared with anyone.

With a last look in the mirror, I headed into the bedroom.

No sight of Travis.

But he’d made his expectations very clear. Naked. Middle of the bed. So I snagged lube and a string of condoms from the nightstand. Then I stripped out of my T-shirt, jeans, socks, and briefs.

Chilled air hit my nether regions, but my hard-on didn’t diminish much. After I’d pissed—and as I’d begun the ramp up of anticipation toward this moment—that erection had returned full force.

The water running in the bathroom propelled me into action.

I closed the bedroom door, thereby keeping a very curious cat in the living room with her expensive cat tree and many toys.

I yanked down the comforter and top sheet, then crawled onto the bed.

I put a pillow at the center of the bed, then laid my head on it.

With one arm bent behind my head, I stroked my cock leisurely.

I swiped my finger across the slit, then rubbed the bead of precum into the crown.

My shaft pulsed.

Travis sauntered into the room.

For the first time, I was truly able to look without fear. Without worrying about my gaze.

He was beautiful. All pale skin, ink, and plenty of body hair.

He had a nice pelt on his chest that arrowed down his abdomen to his happy trail.

His pubes were a shade darker than the rest of his hair, and his legs were covered.

So different from me as I barely had a trace of hair.

I’d felt less than a man growing up. When I’d hit puberty with my friends and they’d all matured and I’d lagged behind. Had never really caught up.

Except in size.

He cocked his head.

“It’s the ink.” Because I wasn’t going to mention the inadequacies I’d felt growing up.

That and his ink was truly magnificent. A dragon shooting fire across his chest. A spider web crawling up his neck. The lightning down his cheek.

Was Cassandra as fascinated as I am? She just seemed to accept him as he was. All my friends had. Which I appreciated more than anything I might’ve been able to express.

“Like what you see?”

“Oh, for sure. I’m just surprised you don’t have ink on your legs.”

He grinned. “In time. I haven’t found a design I like enough to shave and subject myself to that pain. I’m super sensitive to it. Which is ironic, given I push my body to the limit every day I go up a tower.”

I wasn’t certain I liked the idea of him putting his life on the line every day. But I couldn’t remember hearing of any construction person falling to their death, so he must’ve been relatively safe.

Although I might google statistics later.

“I’m looking forward to using some of that physical limit with me.”

He stroked his cock.

His arms were plenty muscular while the rest of him was…smaller. Almost out of proportion. But damn, he looked fine to me.

I spread my legs.

He grinned and made his way over to the bed. “I’m going to make you scream. Will the neighbors be bothered?”

I shook my head. “Solid construction with good soundproofing. One of the reasons I was happy to buy the place.”

“It does look sturdy.” He let his gaze wander up and down my body with a leisure that made me shiver. “You look pretty sturdy as well.”

“Come over here and find out.”

He grinned, then crawled onto the mattress and then, in one long fluid movement, placed his body over mine.

Our cocks brushed.

Mine jumped at the contact.

He dove in for a kiss.

I grasped his cheeks and held on tight as I pulled him closer. Then I ran one hand down his flank. I cupped his ass and squeezed.

He moaned, then pulled back from the kiss. “That. I want more of that.”

I gazed into his eyes—darker because they were only illuminated by my bedside lamp. “So do I.”

He snagged the lube and condom. Then he scooted back so he could position himself between my legs. He rolled on the condom, then poured lube onto his fingers.

I grinned. I didn’t mind prepping myself, but the intimacy of someone else doing it always warmed my heart just that little bit. I spread my legs farther apart, giving him unfettered access.

His matching grin made my spirit soar.

He slid his index finger in.

“Oh, you can do better than that.”

After he cocked his head, he slid a second finger in.

“Better.” Said on a sigh.

He scissored as he sank deeper. “You like this?”

“Yeah.”

His finger brushed my prostate.

My cock jumped, leaking a drop of precum.

He leaned over to lick it off. “Yum. One of these days, I’m going to give you a blow job and it’ll rock your world.”

“We’ve got all night.” I grinned, yet felt the strain behind my words. Don’t push too hard.

“You’re right. We do.” He chuckled. “You’re young. I bet you have a short refractory period.”

I squinted.

“You get hard again quickly.”

“If I’m stimulated, then sure.”

“Right. Well, I’m not twenty anymore.”

“I’m twenty-four.”

“And I’m forty and you just made my point.”

He brushed his finger against my prostate again, and I gritted my teeth. “Keep that up and this will be over too soon.”

“Oh, you’re that sensitive?”

“You better believe it.” I gripped my hair. “I need to come. But I want you in me.”

Slowly, he withdrew his fingers.

I whined. Yep, actually whined.

He slicked his cock and then moved over me. “You ready?”

“Fuck yes. Oh God, please.”

“You’re a treasure.” His eyes shone. “Don’t ever forget that, eh?”

Before I could respond, he pressed against my hole.

I relaxed.

He breached me with relative ease, then slid in.

I continued to breathe through the sting, the burn, and then the relief.

A week. We’d only been apart eight days. And yet it felt like a lifetime. Because this was where he was meant to be. In my bed. In my arms.

This feeling made less than no sense, but Mama taught me to go with my gut, and my gut said to hold on to this man and never let go. “Now.”

“Yeah, you bet.” He withdrew almost to the tip, then thrust back in.

I accepted him. I grasped his back to urge him closer. I nearly asked him to stay like this forever. Instead, I just nipped his neck.

He continued to thrust. Harder and harder. Faster and faster.

Then he took my shaft in his hand. Somehow, his rhythm never faltered as he started jacking me to the brutal tempo he set.

I gripped his sweat-slicked back and held on for the ride as he pushed me higher and higher. “Jesus, I’m going to come. Travis, please—”

“Come. Come, Mallow, okay? You come and then I can—”

I came. Hard. Breathlessly. My vision narrowed as my body soared. Right above the city. I was in the clouds with him on that construction tower—looking down at all the ant people in the streets. Feeling a lightness of being I’d never experienced before. He did this. He gave you this gift .

“Oh, thank fuck.” He arched his head back as he roared his release.

I stroked my hand up and down his neck, marveling at his trust in me.

Then, without warning, he collapsed on me.

“Oof.”

“Sorry.” He tried to rise, only succeeding in pressing his hand to my belly.

I swiftly moved the hand away and brought it to my lips, pressing a kiss to the knuckles. “I’m not sorry.” I held him close to me.

His flaccid cock slowly slid from me.

I mourned the loss of intimacy. Yeah, but having him in my arms is so much better. I can hold on and make sure he doesn’t leave. “That was…”

“Yeah.”

“And you…?”

“Fuck, yes.”

“Oh, well, that’s good.”

I blinked several times, fighting to keep my eyes open. Fucking hell. Why do I always fall asleep right after sex? I’d meant to ask the guys about this, but I hadn’t dared. Roger might not make fun of me, but Johnnie would.

“Rest, Mallow. I’ve got you.” He pressed a kiss to my chest. “I’m not going anywhere.

I believed him.

So I closed my eyes and let go.