Page 23

It took me several long minutes to convince Roarke I wasn’t such a complete worthless piece of shit that I couldn’t help move our bags from Misery Castle. Together it took us about an hour to move back to Shadow Haven. At almost seven a.m., I drag my tired body to the room I’ve shared with Cortez since we moved from our cribs.

Cortez’s laptop, a notebook, a half-eaten bag of Cheetos, Little Debbie snack cake wrappers, and several empty Coke cans litter the floor near his side of the bed. Clearly Cort was up very late writing, stress binge-eating, fretting, and missing me. Judging by the way Cort seems passed out in bed, he hasn’t slept since he left Whittenhower Estates– and neither have I.

With Cort’s soft snores as background music, I slowly put my clothing away in the dresser drawers and our shared walk-in closet. A sense of completion overrides the intense pain that has taken up residence in my heart. I love the way my dress shirts hang next to Cortez’s t-shirts and the way my loafers look so content next to his sneakers.

A sob chokes me as I place my boxers and undershirts into the top drawer of my old dresser– the drawer I had shared with Katya. Her lacy underthings used to mingle with my boxers. Some mornings, when I went to grab a pair of boxers, a bra strap would hook my finger instead, and then Katya would jokingly ask if I was going to wear that too.

Never… never will those moments be replicated, and no amount of pain will remove the memories of the sweet, almost comical moments we’ve shared. I was the one who took that from our future– my fear and selfishness. But it was my cowardice that started it by wrongly trapping Katya into the life I wanted her to lead for me.

Crying the entire time it takes to shower, this shower holds more memories than the top dresser drawer. As kids, Cortez and I would play battleship and use Avon bath paint while we played in the bathtub. Later on, we played more sensual exploratory games. The night Faith and I had sex in the study at Whittenhower Estates, she and I had showered together while suffering in agony. Then Katya moved in here, and while she was pregnant, I was very attentive. I loved to bathe with her.

…and somewhere along the way, I just stopped.

Leaning my head against the tile, I begin to grieve. I mourn the loss of what should have been. I killed it. I killed Katya’s love, and with it, I killed our future.

The heat of the spray warms the chill the snow had put in me, but nothing will ever take away the frigid iciness that seeps into my soul. The coldness is my evil deeds finally taking root, demanding I pay their steep price.

I understand Katya better now– her need to be alone in a new place, a place without memories haunting her. Ava staying with Katya won’t remind Kat of Cortez and me, because they shared so many years without us. But the twins, never have we been apart since they were conceived. Katya’s fear I’ll show up unannounced is because it’s a reminder of how very far we’ve fallen.

In a way, Cortez and I have been relegated into hell. It’s no wonder Cort was eating away his miseries. While Shadow Haven is home, our very lifeblood, it holds so many different types of memories. Good and bad. Being here is a reminder of all we’ve lost: my sanity, Celeste, our innocence, and Katya. Long before that, what this house represented to my mother and Pearl. Shadow Haven is as much a miracle as it is a curse.

Katya lived here for almost three years. That’s three years’ worth of memories Cort and I will have to relive on a daily basis. Her absence will haunt us. If the dresser drawer and the shower render me into misery, what will the major things do to me? Like death, when a sound or thought or a phrase brings back the dead. As I sit on the sofa with my children, will a vision of Katya overlay the moment?

Will I eventually smile through the pain, or will I always break down into tears?

If it is this horrible for me– the selfish, spineless, abusive, forgetful husband –how bad is it for Katya? I know she truly loved me, was in love with me, and wanted a future with me. I know because I had used her emotions as a weapon against her, using them to trap her.

If I feel on the verge of death, Katya must feel ruined.

Cortez is sleeping peacefully on his back. He must have had a nightmare while I was showering. The blankets have fallen to the carpeting, with the sheet twisted around his thigh.

I smile as happy snapshots from the past flash in my mind. Cort has always slept like this. Starts the night bundled up in a mound of blankets. Then just before he wakes, nothing is covering him, except for the corner of the top sheet twisted around one of his legs.

Some things never change, no matter how much we may have changed along the way. The sight is a comfort.

Cort is a constant comfort.

Everyone knows there will be no peace from me while they sleep– they’re fair game. What they don’t realize is how I have a different ritual I perform with each and every one of them. A ritualized routine that makes us both feel better.

I sing to Zane, and if he’s asleep or not complaining about touch, I gently rub his back.

Azrael and Marcus Zane also love the singing, but Az always wants her tootsies rubbed and my baby boy likes his wispy hair played with.

Ava is a light sleeper, who needs at least ten hours of sleep or the nasties come out to play, so I write her notes and leave them on her pillow for when she wakes.

In the past, Aaron and Roarke, one or the other was always awake when I was. Since Aaron married Kayla, I respectfully leave the couple alone. It’s not difficult to check in with Roarke, since he’s usually a step behind me as I move from bedroom to bedroom.

I’ve freaked my mother out several times when I found her in compromising positions with Adelaide. By the fifth time of witnessing lesbian sex, we came up with a system of privacy. Now my mother sends me a text when she calls it a night, informing me she’s barred the door. It took several months, but I no longer bother her at bedtime. That’s how OCD works, you either move slowly through the compulsion or replace it with another.

Marcus is a light sleeper, or he simply has some internal radar that pings when I enter his room. No matter where he slept throughout the ages, he always woke up for me. Shadow Haven, the brownstone, Regina’s old ranch house, or Whittenhower Estates.

When I entered Marc’s bedroom, he would always say, “Good night, son.” I think it’s his survival instinct kicking in after the first two times he woke to me in his room at Shadow Haven. Marcus sleeps with one eye open around me now. I refuse to leave Marc’s presence until he says the nightly phrase.

Before Katya knew I existed, back when I’d sneak into her apartment and into her bed, and after, when we shared a marital bed, I’d lay with her while she slept. I felt at peace. I’d listen to Katya breathe and it was like meditation. I’d end up sleeping for a few uninterrupted hours– uninterrupted by insanity and compulsion.

Cortez is always checked on last, because if he’s not, I’d never check on anyone else. When it was the three of us in bed, you’d have to peel me from between the sheets every morning. But I have a feeling that was more of a combination of Cortez’s comforting presence and the guilt over my past with Katya leaching away than our bliss-filled union. I may be in denial, but not that much.

Everyone else has one or two nightly rituals I go through. It seems the stronger the bond, the more things I must do. I’m absorbed by my children, but it’s Cortez who holds me in thrall.

I always start my ritual by resting my hand over Cort’s chest, feeling the beat of his heart vibrate against my palm. I do this while staring at his mouth and nostrils, making sure he still breathes. Satisfied with his continued longevity, my eyes seek noticeable differences. Did someone bite him or choke him, because those activities are meant to be private between Cortez and me. Did someone bruise him? If I find a bruise, I immediately wake Cort, demanding a name, and before he finishes speaking, I’m hunting the asshole down– mainly it’s Marcus, because the bruises are usually love-bite in nature.

Honestly, I just love looking at Cortez, and sometimes I do it for hours. I’m glad he’s last on my rounds. This way I always find him naked, with the blankets no longer covering his flesh. I drink in the tan expanse of his body and I cannot believe this gorgeous man is mine.

Cort has always been insecure, and I have no idea why. He was a pudgy kid, but he was so adorable that it suited him. I did tease him, but only because it bothered him. I started The Hunter as a way for Cort to get exercise. It wasn’t because I thought he was fat, it was because he thought he was fat. I just wanted Cort to feel good about himself.

Pudgy or trim, Cortez has always aroused me. When we were stupid kids, we’d shower or bathe together, and then we’d wrestle around naked afterward just before bed. It was innocent– we were learning how to protect ourselves. I think it’s ingrained in our DNA to spar and playact survival of the fittest. I’ve seen my own children do the same, while clothed of course. Watching Niel and Torian fight as men when they are still essentially boys is an experiment in Darwinism.

Our mock-fights changed from playacting to something far more interesting when I was ten and puberty hit early, a lot earlier than it hit Cort.

One night after a rough fight, Cort was passed out sleeping. He never had the stamina I had. I loved looking at him, noticing our similarities and differences– one part was very different, even as kids. I touched him to figure out why it looked different than mine, and I got my first erection… and my very first deviant nightly ritual was born.

Not once in twenty years has Cort woke to this ritual. I hated having to make sure Katya was passed out before I could do it. I was strung out on the nights I never indulged in my insane compulsion.

There I was, lying in bed, examining Cort’s body, where I first learned what it meant to like boys. I was ten when I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt I was gay. I’d touched myself until I popped– nothing came out, but it felt incredible. I did this for months, and one night I accidentally left evidence on Cort’s back. I was so shocked and thrilled that I ejaculated, I just stared at his speckled lower back as he slept.

My stuff had dried while Cort slept, and when he woke, he dressed for school. I loved knowing I was on his skin all day– even better that he didn’t even know about it.

To this day, I masturbate on Cortez while he sleeps, always leaving cum on his skin, always in a spot he will never notice.

After the horrific early morning I’ve had with Katya, and the guilt and shame I feel, I need this. This is one of my ultimate stress relievers, satisfying my OCD urges with one of my many rituals, but this one is the most important.

Crawling onto my side of the bed, I try not to rouse Cort. We have about forty-five minutes before we have to be up and around for the kids. I know I should feel guilty that I do this, but I think Cort would laugh at me if he knew I whacked off on him.

The act private, just for me to know.

Usually Cort makes it easier on me by lying on his side, exposing his lower back as my target. This morning, he lies on his back. With no unnoticeable target, I risk it by doing it anyway. I don’t touch Cortez, but I lie close enough to breathe into his ear as I work myself.

Cort’s scent is my ultimate aphrodisiac, the mixture of his musky scent and the anticipation of finally getting caught has me hard in an instant. The first touch of my hand on my cock has me shuddering from the potency of the sensation. After feeling numb, then cold, and never feeling the too-hot water in the shower, I’m extremely sensitive. Three pumps of my fist and my muscles are running taut, head kicking back on a silent moan.

I try to hold off on my release for longer than ten pumps, but we all have a weakness, and mine is sexual stamina. If I’m properly aroused, I’m lucky if I last a good minute, much to Cortez’s annoyance. But I have less than a ten-minute refractory period, so it evens out.

Eyes rolling back, choking on a grunt, my fist quickly pumps my cock so forcefully the bed is shaking beneath us. Amazed Cort is sleeping through this, I begin to jerk harder and faster in hopes I will wake him.

The thrill of getting caught courses fire in my veins.

Silently moaning, my sack tightens painfully, as a fast building pressure radiates from the small of my back. Too late I realize my mistake, cock erupting, leaving a spattering of cum on Cort’s hip, his belly, and in his dense curls. No way to hide it, no way will it dry in the next half hour, I am surely caught.

Lightheaded from my release, from feeding my insane urges, I waver between cleaning Cort and getting into trouble for my bad behavior. Dabbing at it with the sheet would surely wake Cort and alert him to my OCD ritual.

With a wicked smile on my face, I lower my mouth to Cort’s hip. If he wakes now, I can pretend I wanted to love on him, which I do. Licked clean or not, no hiding the drops of cum in his pubes.

Groaning from the back of my throat, my satisfied cock flexes in bliss at the first taste of my seed on Cortez’s flesh. The satisfaction is in the knowledge that my mark is on my man. Tasting his underlying tang on the flat of my tongue. I lap at Cortez’s hip and then his belly. With a deep breath, I bury my face into his dense curls, then suck my flavor away. Even in sleep, Cort responds to me. His cock hardens beneath my cheek, thickening and lengthening to perfection.

I fear Cortez waking now. In the twenty years we’ve been lovers, he’s never enjoyed it when I’ve sucked his cock. He loves oral sex, but some latent fear arises when my mouth lowers onto his dick. Past and present predicting the future, Cort would be wicked pissed if he caught me sucking him off while he slept.

I’ve never once taken advantage of Cortez.

Rolling my eyes up, I make sure Cort is still asleep, before I enjoy the feel of his hardening dick against my cheek. “Ah!” I gasp out in surprise as gray eyes meet mine, a pair of charming lips twisting into a naughty smirk.

“Having fun?” Cort mutters, black eyebrow arching in amusement. “Are you trying to manscape me with your lips and teeth, or did I drop a few Cheetos down there last night and you’re hungry?”

Hearty laughter bubbles from my lips, something painful loosens in my chest. “I needed that,” is said with a smile. “I’ve missed you.”

“Me too. Badly. Horribly. Desperately.”

“Hey, now. No fair on demonstrating your mental thesaurus. A simple I missed you too would suffice.” Tone light and teasing, my facial expression is soft. I must look like a total dipshit.

“Now that the preliminary greetings are out of the way…” Cort cups my jaw. “Are you rooting in my fuzz for a reason, or did my cock shrink and you can’t seem to find it?” He smirks down at me, looking so damn happy my heart nearly bursts. “Dude, are you gonna suck it or not? I’ve been watching you comb my pubes with your teeth for a few minutes, waiting for the indescribable moment you suck me down your throat.”

“Really?” I squeak out in shock, hoping I won’t have to answer why I was sucking my cum out of his pubes. Now that would just be humiliating.

“I want hot and wet. It’s visitor’s choice on whether it’s a mouth or an ass. Either way, I want to be inside you, Ezra. No thesaurus has a word for how I’ve felt these past few days. I need to reconnect with you, know you’re mine and I’m yours. Please .”

Before the word please fully exits Cort’s mouth, my lips envelop his cockhead. The bulbous intrusion tastes divine. Rolling my tongue around his flesh, I shudder in bliss. It’s been less than forty-eight hours, and I was starving for Cortez.

This is what Cort and I are about– lifetime of marking each other, which is why I jack-off and leave myself behind on a nightly basis.

Cortez is mine.

Nothing and no one will ever change it.

Pushing my luck, I lick Cortez from mid-thigh to belly button, clearing my evidence away while reveling in his taste mixed with mine. I was never a messy eater, but I am this morning. Cort’s flesh is sopping wet from my saliva. I’m captivated by the sight of it sliding down his ass crack.

Wil and Faith enter my mind. While strange, it reminds me of the idea I had earlier.

Drawing in a deep breath that will last me for forty-five seconds at the longest, jaw hinging to its maximum, I shove Cort’s cock down my throat until my nose buries in his pubes. With a tormented scream, Cort throbs against my tongue and my invading fingers. My warm mouth distracted Cort from the three fingers piercing his pulsating asshole.

Gag-reflex milking Cort’s immense arousal, his tight muscles squeezing my fingers, I drive him to epic heights. I’ve never heard him bleat like a wild animal before, and it causes me to laugh around his dick, while my own cock simultaneously hardens and dampens the sheets.

I’m thick but not curved enough to hit the anal pleasure center with enough friction to get Cort off with penetration alone. This is the first time Cort has been fingered, and I hit him in a spot that has him grunting and groaning and begging for more.

Drawing up off Cort’s exquisiteness before I suffocate, I can’t help but laugh down at him as he writhes on the bed. Arms and legs sliding around on the sheets, head wildly flailing against his pillow, Cortez makes hungry, enthusiastic noises in between his embarrassed laughter.

“Like that, do ya?” I tease, thinking it’s cute how Cort isn’t as serious as Whitt was when I showed him this particular trick. Whitt freaked out while Cortez celebrates it. “If we find the right position, I can do this with my cock. Would you like that?”

“Oh, fuck. Yes…” Cort breathlessly pants. “If you stop, I’ll kill you. But don’t suck me off– I want to see if I can come like you did on our first time.”

“Ahaaa… yeah, what a way to lose my virginity. You hit it out of the park on the first try,” is murmured in remembrance, voice filled with pride for Cortez.

“Yeah, I finally came to terms with the fact that I suck at sex, but only with a girl. Judging by the way you beg, I’ll believe you when you say I’m a rockstar as a gay guy.” Cort breathlessly teases himself without a trace of shame.

A shiver wracks my body as I remember the way it felt to be on my hands and knees, pine needles indenting my flesh, with Cortez riding my back. The way his sweaty chest stuck to my skin, his sack slapping against mine, and the sound of his labored panting in my ear.

If I could bottle the animalistic feel of that moment and foster it, I would. Cort roughly rode me, and I was too embarrassed to explain what he was doing to me on the inside. I ended up biting my tongue until it bled, as my cock leaked all over the ground.

I was two years more advanced than Cort. By that time, I’d been jacking for three years to his one. My body knew what was happening. However, his did not. Needless to say, he was confused and freaked out. I already knew I was gay and in love with Cortez, and I wanted what he was giving to me. But nothing prepared me for the first time I climaxed without rubbing my own dick.

When my orgasm hit, it yanked Cort over the edge and he came inside me. Out of everything, that seemed to embarrass him the most– made it real. It was an awkward thirty seconds as he pulled from my body and saw his spendings seeping out of me. “Sorry,” was muttered near my ear. I shut Cort up by kissing him, and he kissed me back. I knew right then and there I’d found my forever…

And then I’d entered Shadow Haven, where my mom, Celeste, and Marcus told me the truth. Until then, I didn’t know who my birth father was, and that had always bonded Cort and me closer together, both of us being raised by single mothers. It was instinctive on my part to name our hide and seek game The Hunter.

An hour after we lost our virginity in the forest, I found out my father was Raymond Hunter, who raped my mother, the twin to Celeste Hunter. I fractured when I found out I was the product of rape and my forever was my blooded cousin.

Not understanding my lapse into insanity wasn’t his fault, Cort refused to touch me like that for well over a year. I was almost fifteen the next time we touched sexually, making it even more explosive than the first time. Cort had filled out in more ways than one, enough that it hurt– enough that I loved it, became addicted to it. Begged for it.

I was too far in love with Cortez at that time to give a shit about our shared DNA. I never thought it would come back to haunt me. Then I spent the next fifteen years trying to get Cort back after he found out the truth I’d hidden, found it out during our abduction.

“Welcome back,” Cort murmurs near my ear. He’d sat up while I dazed in the past. “Where’d you go?”

“I was thinking of our first time,” is murmured with a smug smirk. I push against Cort’s chest until he falls back against the bed. “And our second time.”

“Oh, God, nothing was as good as that second time.” Cort groans, relieved my fingers are moving again. “It’s like the first time gave me a taste– a taste I was starving to experience. You’re way too good at this, Ez,” Cort says with obvious suspicion.

“Um… yeah, this was a lesson Whitt had to learn,” I reluctantly admit, not wanting to upset Cort. “A lesson that was very rough but had explosive results.”

“It took that many times?” Sounding awed, shockingly, Cort isn’t upset at all.

“Uh. No. I– um. Do this to myself. Ah… like a whole helluva lot,” is muttered self-consciously. My face flames so brightly I’m surprised I don’t catch fire.

“Hmm…” Cort purrs, and I fear that I’ve upset him. “Good.”

“Good?”

“Yeah, it’s better for me. You’re a pro, and my ass thanks you for your self-exploratory masturbation.” Cort speaks in a serious tone, but I can tell by the tightening around my fingertips that he’s trying hard not to laugh.

“Twit!” As punishment for teasing me, I give a twist of my fingers that has the opposite result. Cort doesn’t whimper in pain as I expected. He jackknifes off the mattress, his cock erupting like a volcano.

“Holy fuck, Ez!” Cort’s moan is drawn out for several long seconds. His ass contracts so strongly against my fingers, I can’t even wiggle them around. Amazed, we both watch the impressive flow of ejaculate cover his belly and chest.

“Whatever the hell you just did, if you don’t repeat it to me at least once a day, I’ll hunt your ass down for it.” Cort issues as a demanding warning as soon as he comes back down to earth.

“Don’t tempt me,” I warn back. “We’re going to find a position that duplicates this. I want you to come on my dick.” After pulling my fingers free from his body, I fall forward, finally holding Cort in my arms.

“I missed you so much. I need you,” is whispered, practically crying.

I rest my forehead against Cort’s, as I’ve done every day for as far back as I can remember. I always lean our faces together, waiting for Cort to wake up, loving the fact that the first thing he sees at the start of every day is my eyes staring down at him.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” Cort rasps back, still trying to catch his breath. “Two nights and one day… I thought I was dying. Ez, I can’t last the rest of my life like this.”

“You won’t have to. I promise,” is whispered against Cort’s lips before I seal the vow with a kiss.

Lips curl into a satisfied smile against mine. “Did you check on the kids?”

“Nope.” Eyes darting for the time, I discover it’s fifteen minutes to nine.

It’s Sunday, so we’ll be lucky to get Ava out of bed by eleven. But the twins are most likely wandering around their room, getting into mischief.

“Why not?” Cort’s confusion is so adorable, I want to make love to him all over again.

“I trust you,” I breathe against his lips. “I had no need to check on them since they were with you– you’ll always keep them safe and happy.”

“Thank you, Ez. I’m touched. My stalker– or should I say my visitor –would you like to take a shower with me before we feed our brats?”

“I’m not visiting, Cort,” is quickly muttered to remove any misconceptions and miscommunications. “But I’ll definitely take you up on the shower.”

Eyes wide, Cort is floored. “What?”

“I’m not visiting you– I moved back to Shadow Haven. Forever.”