Page 32 of Salvaged Heart

32

BECKHAM

T hirty minutes later, we pulled up outside my parent’s house, where I’d been staying the last few months. It wasn’t the ideal place to bring Anders. He deserved fancy hotels and high thread count sheets, not a cramped, full-sized bed in my childhood time capsule of a room. But at least here, we could be alone. My parents were in Florida for Christmas, visiting my mother’s cousin. They’d begged me to make the trip with them, but I’d used the excuse that I had spent too long far from home and surrounded by strangers, that a Christmas alone back in Nashville was precisely what I needed to reset.

I hadn’t dared tell them about my plans to spend Christmas Eve with Laurel’s parents. When I returned home, I explained my sour mood as a result of our breakup. It was the easiest thing to do. As far as they were concerned, my broken heart was caused by Laurel ending things, and my mother made it her mission to do everything in her power to cheer me up. I’d let her fuss over me with little complaint.

“This is where you grew up?”

Anders looked up at the small two-story brick house. I am sure it seemed very modest compared to what he was used to, but my parents had worked hard to afford this place. My dad, and later myself, as I got old enough to help, did much of the work to make the inside exactly how my mother had always dreamed. There was a deep sense of pride there that I’d been able to help give this to her.

I nodded. “I’ve been staying here since I left the lake.” He was fixing his hair in the mirror and straightening his collar, his hands suddenly shaky as he fussed. “My parents aren’t home.”

“Thank fuck.” It came out partly with a laugh and partly with a sigh of relief.

I leaned across the center console and kissed the last of the worried expression from his handsome face. “I told you I wanted to get you alone.” I hummed and pulled him closer to me as he deepened the kiss, but the small car’s interior didn’t offer a lot of room for two six-foot-plus guys to maneuver. “Get out.”

Anders didn’t have to be told twice. He was up and out of the car in the time it took me to turn off the engine, striding up the steps to the front door. It reminded me of when we'd chased each other up the porch of Arbor Ct. and fallen over one another trying to get into the house before I threw him against the wall and sucked his pretty dick for the first time.

My mouth salivated at the thought. I couldn’t make up for the four months we had been apart. The list of wicked things I wanted to do to his body and have him do to mine was too long to be accomplished in one night. But fuck, if I wasn’t going to try.

I let us into the house, and he stepped over the threshold, trying his very best to look cool and unhurried. However, he buzzed with the same restless energy that was coursing through me.

“This place is nice.”

“The full tour will have to wait until the morning.” I slapped his ass to encourage him further into the open-plan kitchen and living room so I could lock the door behind us. “Right now, I only care about how quickly I can get you upstairs and undressed.”

I pressed my body up against his back, nudging him forward step by step as I placed hot open-mouth kisses into his neck, my teeth biting his cold skin softly. He leaned his head back onto my shoulder, allowing me better access, and let me guide him to the base of the stairs before he reluctantly pulled away to climb up them.

“Which way?” He asked when he got to the top.

I pointed to the second door on the left. He opened it, stepping into the bedroom I’d called my own for almost my entire life. We’d lived in this house since I was three, the hundreds of pictures decorating the walls showing the progression of my childhood from diapers up until my last season playing ball. Anders grinned as he turned on the lights, taking in the decor I had selected as a teenager—baseball-themed, of course. I remembered the day my parents deemed it was time to retire the race car bed and let me pick out all my own things. I'd fussed over the decisions like they were life or death and took pride in showing it off to my friends who came over to visit.

“Cute.” He muttered. If I didn’t know him so well, I would have thought he was mocking me, but I recognized the jealousy in his tone for what it was. “Pretty sure my mother redecorated my room the same day I left. I love that your parents kept it the same all this time.”

“Yeah, I won the parent lottery.” I tried to shrug it off like it was no big deal, but knowing everything I now did about Anders’ and even Laurel’s childhood, I knew it wasn’t something I would ever take for granted again. “No more talking about them, it’ll kill the mood.”

He chuckled. “And what mood is that?”

“I think you know.” I took his hand and placed it on my rapidly hardening cock. He flicked an eyebrow up at me as he gave a light squeeze. It twitched eagerly under his palm.

“I see.”

“Uh huh.”

I couldn’t hold myself back much longer. I shrugged off my coat, then slipped his down his arms and let them both fall to the floor. Next, my hands moved to his sweater, and he lifted his arms as I dragged it over his head. His fingers fluttered to the buttons on his dress shirt, but I battered them away.

“Let me, baby,” I whispered, and the shiver that rolled through him at the pet name lit me up inside. “I want to take care of you.”

“You always do.”

“Because I enjoy it. Because it turns me on.”

He didn’t fight it. He just locked eyes with me as I slowly undid each button, the whole act feeling incredibly intimate and overcharged with emotion. The look on his face threatened to set my entire world on fire. I wanted to go slow and spend hours making up for all that lost time, but the aching need inside me threatened to take over at any minute. I was powerless to stop it. I finally got the last buttons undone and slid the shirt down his arms to the floor, then reached behind my head and tugged my sweater and t-shirt off in one go.

“Bed,” I grunted.

The look of his bare torso, covered in those sexy as fuck tattoos, reduced my vocabulary to that of a caveman. He’d put on weight since I last saw him, his ribs no longer stuck out, and his flat stomach had the slightest definition of abs. That light dusting of hair dropping below the waistband of his pants drove me to the edge of insanity. I wanted to run my tongue over every inch of his honey-bronzed skin, the tight muscles in his back, and that plump, gorgeous ass. I wanted to sink into it more than anything, and I sent up a silent prayer that he would let me one day.

He flopped down on the bed on his back and looked up at me, eyes hooded, taking me in the same way I had just been ogling him.

“Like what you see, baby?”

He nodded, biting his teeth into his full lower lip.

I undid my belt slowly, flicking open the top button on my pants and pushing them to the floor with my boxer briefs. I took my cock in my hand and gave it a few teasing tugs, which he watched longingly, his pupils blown wide with need.

“You see how hard you make me?”

“Beck.” My name came out as barely more than a gasp.

He swallowed hard, letting out a whimper as I ran my fingers up the inside of his still-covered thigh before pushing himself into a seated position and tugging my mouth to his. The kiss was bruising. All tongue and teeth, and hot, breathy moans that I desperately swallowed down. I climbed onto him, pressing his lithe body down onto the mattress, my hips moving on their own accord, desperately chasing friction as I ground against him. It could have been minutes, or it could have been hours before I was able to come up for air, but I was facing the very real danger of coming like this if we didn’t slow down.

“What do you want, Anders? I’ll give you anything.” I breathed the words into his neck. His skin was flushed and tasted slightly salty from the beads of sweat forming there. He smelled fucking edible, like bergamot and citrus and pure sex.

“I want you inside me.”

I pulled back, searching his face for any sign of hesitation, but all that was there was pure, unbridled want. “You sure?”

“So damn sure it’s not even funny.”

The noise that came out of me was practically feral. In all our months apart, just getting to be here with him like this would have been enough. I’d close my eyes and beg for one more kiss, one more smile, one more night of his lean body wrapped up in mine. But at night, when the want and longing had grown too much, I would close my eyes and picture him below me, his legs spread as I pounded into the warm, tight heat of his ass. I had cum one too many times to that thought alone, my hand a poor substitute for the images my imagination was dreaming up.

Before his overdose, I never imagined he'd let me be with him that way. He hadn’t told me much about the incidents that led to his hesitation around sex, but the little he had shared, it would be hard for him to trust a man to take his body in that way again. I’d been content with the idea that one day he would fuck me, and I might never get to do it in return.

Hell, anything he was willing to give me was a blessing. But this, this was a gift I did not deserve.

“You’ll have to tell me what to do. I don’t want to hurt you.” I’d never forgive myself. I couldn’t become one of the many men who had used and hurt him.

He didn’t try to reassure me with empty words that I wouldn’t. He just helped me strip off the rest of his clothes before falling back to the bed, not breaking eye contact with me the entire time. He looked completely spent already, his breaths coming out in shallow pants. I tried to soak in the moment, the image of him laying on my bed, in my room, fucking desperate for me. It would be my undoing.

I left him for just a moment to grab supplies from my bedside table, but he looked at the foil packet I’d thrown down with the lube next to him with hesitation in his eye.

“We know I’m clean,” He murmured, and he sounded so unsure. “Any reason we need this?”

Was he asking me for what I thought he was?

“I had to get tested at the start of every baseball season. I was good then, and I always used a condom with…” I trailed off before I mentioned Laurel’s name. Bringing up his sister would be the worst thing I could do at this moment. “There’s been no one else and will never be anyone else but you.”

His eyes heated, “I want to feel all of you.”

It was the sexiest thing he'd ever said to me.

“Fuckkk.”

He grabbed the lube and went to squeeze some onto his fingers, but there wasn’t a chance in hell I was going to allow him to prep himself. That was my damn job. I took it from him and placed it back on the bed before kissing a trail from his neck down his chest and stomach, taking him into my mouth for a few languid sucks. He groaned when I continued south, running my tongue over his balls to his tight hole, and began to work him open with my mouth.

It wasn’t long before Anders was a boneless mess writhing against my face. The noises leaving his mouth were downright pornographic, and the whimper he let out as I pulled away caused my already hard cock to pulse painfully. I wanted to be inside him so fucking badly, although not at the cost of causing him discomfort, but the way his blown eyes were watching me between his legs was testing every bit of my resolve.

“Patience,” I taunted as I coated my fingers in lube and continued to work him open, the soft brushes against his prostrate making his hips buck off the bed. Another string of curses left his lips as I pushed in a second and then a third. His body was so responsive, so eager to take more, his tight hole opening to me as I drove him to the edge of oblivion, then backed off again and again and again.

“I’m ready, Beck. I needed you inside me like five—fucking—minutes ago.”

He was full-on panting now. Pre-cum beading on the tip of his gorgeous cock, I leaned down and licked it up, having missed the taste so desperately while he'd been gone. He may have been the one with vices, but I was completely lost in my addiction to him. As if in a daze, I pulled my fingers out and coated myself in lube. I was probably using too much, but I didn’t care. He spread his thighs wider as I settled back between them and lined my cock head up with his hole.

“You have to tell me if you need me to stop.”

“I will, Beck. Please, I can’t wait any longer.”

Leaning down, I kissed his forehead, the tip of his nose, and finally, his lips. “I love you,” I mouthed against them before pressing into him and sliding in slowly until I was fully seated inside him. The sensation was like nothing else I'd ever experienced. He was impossibly tight, and the feeling of him bearing down around me was almost enough to make me spill inside him right away. I closed my eyes tight, digging my fingertips into the mattress, thinking desperately of anything but the look on his face and the amazing grip he had on my dick. Taking deep breaths, I tried to pull myself back from the edge.

“Beck,” He groaned, “I need you to move.” He squirmed beneath me impatiently

“Stop,” I placed my hand on his chest in a poor attempt to try and still him. “You’ve got to give me a minute.”

“But you’re torturing me.” He whined grumpily but stilled, understanding the precarious situation I was in.

Finally, I pulled myself together enough to rock into him. Slow, shallow strokes at first, but then his legs came up and wrapped around my back, pulling me in deeper. I focused on his face, the way his eyes rolled back in his head as my dick hit that special spot inside him. He ground into me, meeting me thrust for thrust, his back arching in pleasure. My hand, still on his chest, pushed him down into the bed so I could pound into him with harder, deeper strokes. His cock was impossibly hard between us, the tip leaking and so angry looking it was almost purple.

“I need…” His words turned into a moan as I slammed into him again, and again, and again. “Beck…please…”

It took every ounce of self-control I had to pull out of him, “Flip over.” I demanded, his eyebrows shooting up at the tone in my voice. But his hazel eyes glinted wildly as he practically scrambled onto all fours.

He shuddered under my touch as I trailed a hand along his spine, down to his hip, where I gripped him firmly before burying myself back inside. I wanted to leave marks, wanted the reminder of everywhere I'd touched him, every ounce of pleasure I had rung from his body. I was feral with the thought of it. He was mine, and I was his, and that meant everything.

I pulled him up against me, one arm gripped around his chest, holding him tight, the other dropping to his cock, pumping it in time with my thrusts. My teeth nipped at his jaw, ear lobe, and neck. He was completely shaking in my arms now, strings of unintelligible words falling from his lips.

“BeckfuckgodsoaghsofuckingBeck.”

I chuckled into his skin. “You’re so perfect, Anders. You feel so fucking good.”

“Ugh…close.” He managed.

“Good, cum for me baby. I got you. Cum.”

As if he had been waiting for permission, his head fell back onto my shoulder, my name leaving his lips in a startled cry. I pumped his dick one more time, and it erupted in my hand, thick streams of cum shooting from the tip, landing over his stomach and my bed. I reveled in the mess he was making. He shuddered under the weight of his release, and I hugged him close to my chest, utterly boneless in my arms as I worked him through it.

“I dreamed about this,” I whispered in his ear, slowing my pace until he came down the other side. “I wanted you from the moment I saw you.”

He hummed like he didn’t believe me but knew better than to question it. “Beck?” His voice was hoarse.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I appreciate the stamina, but I’m pretty rung out. Any chance you want to wrap this up?”

“Gladly.”

I released him from where I held him tightly against me, and he flopped to the bed like I had fucked the bones right out of him. The sight of him wholly spent beneath me was enough to drag me over the edge, and two last deep thrusts inside him had me spilling into him as my orgasm barreled through me.

The edges of my vision were fuzzy as I, too, tumbled to the mattress, managing to roll sideways and out of him before I crushed him under my weight. We lay there silently, catching our breath, his head turned towards me, hair an unruly mess. Anders was always gorgeous, but this was my favorite version of him. Thoroughly sated, a twinkle in his eyes, looking at me like I hung the freaking moon. I was so deeply and irrevocably in love with the man before me that I would never recover from him allowing me to be his.

“That was…” There were no words to describe it. Sex had never felt that good. “When you can get it up again, I want you to do that to me.”

He groaned in response. “It might be a minute. I’m not young like you, pretty sure my dick’s fallen off.”

I held back my retort that he was barely three years older than me. “So dramatic.” I chuckled. “Come on, old man, let’s get you cleaned up and tucked into bed.”