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Chapter Sixteen

Cade

Cade had a hard time keeping up the rhythm because it felt fucking amazing, having Ford inside his body. They were on their sides and the stroking of his prostate had him worked into a frenzy.

He was so close to letting go, but Ford had his fingers circling the root of Cade’s cock and balls like a cock ring. “Not yet baby. I want you to ride me.” Ford held the condom and pulled out.

It had taken half an hour for Ford to open him enough to be able to stroke into him. Of course, the rimming he’d felt when he was on his stomach had nearly driven him insane. He’d panted and cursed at the feeling of Bix’s tongue in his ass, but he didn’t ask the man to stop. It was hypnotic, to say the least.

After he had Cade loosened up, Ford started with the two of them on their sides so Cade could control the penetration. Oh, he’d pushed back like he was in a tug of war. The sensation was wonderful, having that big cock filling him so well.

Ford rolled on his back and pulled Cade on top of him. “Take your time. This way will go deeper, but I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered against Cade’s lips, nearly overloading his senses.

“You could never hurt me, Bix. I’ll take it slow,” he whispered as he bent over and kissed the man again. Cade reached behind him and positioned Bix Junior at his entrance, sliding down that huge pole. The feeling was too much to describe, so Cade only moaned as he picked up the pace.

Thirty minutes later, Cade collapsed on top of Ford, having experienced his first session of edge play. He’d read about it online a few times, but the experience itself had been breathtaking. Not surprisingly, Ford Thomas was great at it.

“My God, I had no idea something like that could be done.” Cade rolled off Ford and flopped on the mattress, feeling sticky and gooey and very satisfied.

Ford chuckled. “Wait until Jax gets ahold of you. The man is a master at prolonged gratification. He loves to draw out the pleasure. He taught me how to do it.”

Cade giggled. “I feel sticky. I bet you do too because I think I came a lot. It’s been a while. With two boyfriends, I refuse to perform self-service so you two better step up your game, dammit.”

Ford laughed and simply pulled him into his arms. “Let’s get stuck together, sweetheart. I love you, Kincade.” He pulled Cade closer.

Asleep in seconds, Cade returned the sentiment. He loved them very much.

Cade woke at six, too used to his normal routine of getting to the shelter by seven. Ford was slumbering happily with a sexy little smile and a hard-on, so Cade left him to his dreams.

He went to the large en suite to take a quick shower. He shaved and brushed his teeth before he slipped out of the bathroom and went to his duffel to retrieve underwear and clothes. When he found it empty, he was unsure of what to do.

“Check the closet,” he heard from the bed. He turned to see Ford propped against the headboard, rubbing his eyes, and wearing a sexy grin.

“In here?” He pointed to the large closet door. Ford nodded, so Cade turned the knob on the door he’d never opened.

Cade took in the large room, which wasn’t a closet at all, and he couldn’t help but shriek. He was in a dressing room, and in all his diva dreams, it was something he’d always wanted. Seeing the inside of it took away his breath.

“That one over there is yours.” Ford walked into the room and pointed to a dresser with a beautiful mirror above it next to a two-tiered hanging space with fancy hangers.

Two sides of the room were filled up, but the third was empty. He opened the built-in dresser to see the clothes from his duffel were neatly stacked inside.

They were sparse, but they were where he wanted them to be. The feeling of acceptance coursing through his veins was like an electric current.

He ran over and jumped into Ford’s arms, latching his legs around the man’s waist. His body was on fire, and the whole thing was overwhelming, but Cade finally felt he belonged somewhere.

“Maybe we can get the boys to help us haul my stuff from Griff’s old apartment and my storage unit?”

Feeling the blinding friction against Ford’s body as he was pushed against the dove gray wall of the closet was incredible. He couldn’t say if it was the closet, itself, or the feel of the hard body against his, but whatever the fuck it was, it gave him an ecstatic high and his hard cock released against Ford’s. Life should be so great every day.

After the two men finished cleaning up, they made their way downstairs, surprised not to see any of the boys already in the kitchen. “Who knows what time they finally went to sleep. I wasn’t paying attention to the noise from upstairs. I was busy paying attention to the very tight ass riding my cock.” Ford’s teasing made Cade giggle. All was right with the world.

Cade opened the fridge to peruse the offerings after serving Ford his coffee. “What would you like for breakfast?” Cade tried to sound as seductive as possible.

“You want another round before breakfast?” Ford walked up behind Cade and ran his lips down his neck to the curve of his shoulder. Of course, the nibbling tickled enough for Cade to giggle again.

“The heart is oh-so-willing, but the ass says maybe later?” Cade wiggled said ass against the front of Ford’s lounge pants before stepping away.

The two of them laughed and Cade assembled ingredients for French toast. “Hey, how about you go upstairs and start rousing them? If they’re going to hang around, we need to order some beds. I saw these mattresses on television that are shipped in a box. They arrive in a day. They’re some sort of foam but they come highly recommended. Maybe before the game, we can get out your laptop and look it up?”

Ford patted him on the ass as he walked by. “I saw a jar of blackberry jam in the cupboard. Can you somehow melt it down to make syrup? We used to have a cook who made blackberry syrup for me when I was a kid and I love it.” Cade nodded. He’d give the man anything he wanted—and the other one as well.

Ford’s footsteps on the stairs shot Cade into action. He went to the cabinet and found the jar of blackberry preserves that the Yankee called “jam.” He was sure it was simple to break it down to liquid form, so he pulled out a saucepan and gathered other ingredients.

Yelling echoed in the stairwell, so Cade stopped to listen, noticing it didn’t get louder. Then suddenly there were feet hammering down the stairs. Ashton ran into the kitchen in a pair of pajama pants and a Chicago sweatshirt, holding out a piece of paper.

“What’s wrong?” The look on his brother’s face startled him.

Before the boy could answer he broke down, moving into Cade’s embrace. Cade held his sobbing brother. Ford’s expression showed alarm when he walked in with a ten-dollar bill and an empty box of kitchen trash can liners.

“What happened? Where are the boys?”

Ashton pulled away and handed the note to Ford before he burrowed further into Cade’s chest, his sobs loud as they stood in the kitchen. Cade studied Ford, seeing tears in his eyes. He cleared his throat and began reading the note.

Of course, they were inconsolable by the time he got to the end. Cade read the letter to himself, trying to understand why they felt the need to leave.

He finally looked at Ford. “Why’d they leave? Did we do something wrong?” He reached for a paper towel and tore it in half, handing a piece to Ashton to dry his eyes and nose.

Ford took Cade’s piece and dried his own eyes. “We gave them time and space to regroup. Their leaving was a way of claiming back their independence. Look, it would have been easy for them to stay here and let us take care of them, but those boys weren’t used to this kind of treatment, and they weren’t the type to take advantage.” Ford’s words rang true.

“I’m worried about them.” Cade’s stomach flipped at the idea of those young men wandering the streets of Chicago alone.

Ford placed his hand on Cade’s cheek, which was comforting. “I know we’re sorry to see them gone and we’ll worry about them, but they are adults, and they did what they thought was best for them. Hopefully, we’ll hear from them in the future, and God willing, the letters they wrote to the DA will help your case.”

Cade hugged Ash again before he sat the boy down at the table so he could pour him a glass of juice. “Orange or apple?” He pulled both containers from the fridge.

“Do you think Kevin will ever think about me?” Ash stared into space.

Cade glanced at Ford and saw a tender smile. They both knew his brother was dealing with his first case of heartbreak. It wasn’t anything Kevin did, really, except kiss the youth on New Year’s, but Cade remembered how easily a crush could sneak up on you when you were that age.

“I’d bet he’ll think about you for years to come, Ash. You want to help me make some French toast?”

“I will. I’ll be back.” The boy hurried up the stairs.

Cade turned to Ford, who smiled and pulled him into his arms. “Our little boy is suffering from his first crush. We have to be careful with him. I remember my first crush. It was an older boy on the track team, Sterling Monroe. I went out for track my freshman year because he was the captain. I guess I’ve always been attracted to athletes. That explains a lot about me being so attracted to Jackson.”

“My first crush was Isaac Stein. His father was Jewish, and his mother was Presbyterian. They got divorced and couldn’t decide how to raise the poor guy, so they sent him to the same school I went to. He insisted on being called Izzy, which I thought was the coolest name in the world. He was a junior when I was a freshman, and he was crazy about the theater. I went to every production that year, and I even considered converting to Judaism.” Cade’s admission brought a hearty laugh from Ford.

“I’m sure Hudson would have loved to hear that one,” Ford joked.

“Oh, he’d have had a heart attack. Unfortunately for me, Izzy ran off with the drama teacher, Mr. Grange, and didn’t finish his senior year of school. Of course, I was crushed back then. My next crush was on a guy on the basketball team. I found out that most of the guys on our sports teams were all about the cheerleaders from the sister school, so I just gave up on love. I had a few one-nighters in college as I was sorting myself before… Well, I get what you mean about that first crush. That’s one you don’t forget.” Cade smiled at the memories.

They both sighed as Ash came rushing back in. “Are we gonna eat or what? What time is Sasquatch getting home?”

Cade glanced at the clock to see it was just a little after eight and the game wasn’t on until noon. Just as he was putting the first pieces of French toast on the griddle, Ford’s phone chimed from the counter. He picked it up and smiled, reading the message from Jax.

Sports fans, I’m gonna be a guest on the pregame show. Tune in… Channel Five. Happy New Year to all of you. Love you, Cajun

The three of them laughed. It sounded like Jackson was in a good mood, and Cade was glad. He wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t concerned about how Jax would handle being at the game and not being able to participate, but it sounded as if, maybe, he’d be just fine.

“We’re lucky to have one of the co-captains for the Breeze with us when we come back. We’re going to ask him about last Sunday’s game with Washington and whether he thought he was a target. What does next season look like for him, and the press coverage swirling around his personal life. Come back for The Ragin’ Cajun, Jackson Delacroix. This is Sunday Gameday,” the host stated.

Cade and Ford smirked at each other as the three of them settled into the recliners in the media room to watch the game. They’d prepared popcorn and root beer, their eyes glued to the big screen. “You think he’ll say anything about his personal life?”

Ford laughed, passing the bowl to Ashton. “He’ll allude to us just to see what the commentators try to get him to say. He loves to play cat and mouse with the media. He’s not going to say anything that would hurt us, I promise you.” Cade nodded at Ford’s assessment, swigging his root beer from the bottle.

After the break, Ash turned up the volume. They could see a clean-shaven Jax sitting in a chair at the large desk the four hosts shared, all former football players. The lead host looked at the camera and smiled brightly, showing teeth that looked like white Chiclets gum.

“Welcome back. Let’s catch up with the standings as we head into the last week of the season.”

The host turned to the other guys at the table and the three spoke about who was where in the run for the big game. Chicago had earned a wildcard spot, but their opponent was yet to be known. The outcome of another game later that day would seal the deal.

After the three other commentators pontificated on who would play whom and how the postseason would shake out, offering nothing of any consequence, the camera shifted to a two-shot with Jackson and the hall-of-fame quarterback for Pittsburgh. He was an older man who’d made his way into acting of late, so Cade hoped the guy had an open mind when it came to Jackson.

“Thanks, guys. I’m pleased to have the opportunity to sit down with the Ragin’ Cajun, number seventy-nine, Jackson Delacroix, left defensive tackle and four-time Pro Bowler for Chicago, ten years running. Welcome, Jackson,” The man turned to Jax.

“Thank you, man. It’s great to be here,” Jax said with a bright smile. Cade could see that twinkle in Jax’s eyes, and it made him sigh, bringing Ford’s hand to take his own and grip it gently.

“I still do it when I see him on television. Hell, I do it when I see him come home at night.” Ford squeezed Cade’s hand.

“We’re so fucking lucky to have him.” Cade lifted Ford’s hand and kissed the back of it.

“Blah, blah, blah. Shut the fuck up or go downstairs.” Ashton tossed popcorn at the two of them. They both laughed.

“What happened last Sunday with DC? You were strong on the line, Jackson. I’ve watched the highlight reel, and I did not see it coming.” The interviewer didn’t take his eyes of Jax.

Jax gave that devilish grin he sometimes wore when he was about to say something outrageous. “They were grasping at straws to get our playoff spot, and hell, I’d be all over me if I was somebody else. Seriously, the league ruled it as a legal hit, so I gotta accept the ruling. My broken leg doesn’t feel like it was fair, but that’s just my opinion.” It didn’t sound like much of an opinion at all, but it brought a laugh from Ford.

“What?” Cade found nothing funny about the comment.

“He’s hedging his bets. He might want a career in broadcasting so he’s not going to say anything that might make it sound as if he’s questioning the league’s ruling. They have a say in who works at the networks and calls the games. If Jax wants to work for Chicago as a color guy, he’s not going to piss them off. I’d bet Stan’s either there or had a stern discussion with him on the phone earlier to rein him in.” Ford continued to chuckle.

Just as Cade was about to ask if Ford thought Jax would want a career in broadcasting, the doorbell bonged a few times. “I’ll get it.” Cade hopped out of what felt like a cradle. Those damn chairs were addicting.

He bolted downstairs and opened the door to see Cleve, Griff, and Miss Winnie. The guys were carrying large baskets of food, and Miss Winnie was carrying a huge slow cooker.

“Hey, everyone. What’s going on?” Cade happily led them into the kitchen.

“We thought you boys could use some snacks, and I invited myself and these two for the game.” Miss Winnie had a bright smile as she placed the slow cooker on the counter and turned to hug Cade.

“You got skinny again, baby boy. We’ll have to work on that. Where are all those young men?” She glanced his way as she plugged in the pot.

Cade couldn’t help but tear up, handing her the note they’d shoved into a kitchen drawer to show Jax. Miss Winnie read it and sniffled before she handed it to Cleveland and hugged Cade.

“Oh, child, now you know God has paths for all of us, and it seems like these young men decided it was time to find theirs. You boys did them a great service by letting them stay here, allowing them time to think. Where’s Ford and Ashton?” she asked, just as they came down the stairs.

“My babies.” She hugged both of them.

Cleveland chuckled. “Let’s put these in the oven to stay warm for now, Momma. I’m sure we’ll put a dent in ’em, but the Cajun will be home tonight. Nothin’s gonna go to waste.” Cleveland winked at Cade.

The five of them went upstairs to the media room, and they happily watched as Chicago kicked Minnesota’s ass up and down the snowy field. Cade saw the former Minnesota player, Hans Linder, sneering on the line when the camera focused on him, reminding the viewers he had been a player for the home team and had been traded at the beginning of the season.

It was truly an ass-whipping with a score of 30-7 at the end. Chicago would go into the postseason with a ferocious win under their belts and a lot of momentum. Cade knew it was what Jax wanted, and he was happy it was what he got.

The interviewer hadn’t put Jax on the spot about his personal life, only asking him if he felt the press had been fair to him about being out in the NFL. Cade was a little nervous about the Cajun’s answer.

Jax chuckled for a second. “Somebody’s gotta be first, Jerry. I’m no different than any other guy. I love who I love, and I don’t want anybody bothering my family. You feel the same about yours, right?”

The interviewer nodded and went to a commercial, but to Cade, it meant everything. Jackson Delacroix wasn’t hiding any longer, but he wasn’t going to put his family into the hell of being in the limelight.

It was the best place to be. If it was anyone else in his shoes at that moment, Cade would be jealous for sure.

After the game, Ford, Cade, Cleveland, and Griff went to Griff’s old place to collect the rest of Cade’s things, loading them in the back of Jax’s blue beast. When they returned to the Greystone, they carried things upstairs for Cade to unpack at his leisure while they went back downstairs to let Miss Winnie spoil them with her delicious food. It was a great way to start the New Year.