Hannah sat down with Carlos to feed baby Ada, while we sat on the other sofa. Isaac sat side on to me, with one leg tucked under himself, as he held my hand and kept smiling into my shoulder. It was kind of adorable.
Even Hannah would look over at him occasionally and smile. "So," she asked, looking at me. "When will you move in?"
"Oh, well, I'll have to give notice on my rent, find somewhere to store most of my stuff, so maybe in two weeks?"
Isaac sat up straight. "Two weeks?"
"Officially," I said, trying not to grin at his disappointment. For someone who'd resisted this move for weeks, he was now very excited by the idea. "I can go home and grab some things this afternoon. Tonight will be my first night, officially."
"Oh," Isaac said, but then his smile faded. "You're going to bring all your stuff here, aren't you?"
I laughed at his oh-shit realization. "No, I'll put most of it in storage or something. Don't worry, I won't rearrange your furniture or anything."
Isaac bit my shoulder playfully. "Not funny."
When Ada was fed and content, she was promptly handed to her besotted uncle. He was so amazed by this tiny baby. He'd hold her close to his face, taking in that new-baby smell that astounded him. And every little snuffle or squeak from Ada, Isaac would smile.
So, while Hannah and Carlos were still there, I headed home to collect a few things. I'd wanted to move in with Isaac for months, and now it was finally happening. It wasn't lost on me that he'd had an attacker in his house the day before and this could be his knee-jerk reaction to that. But he said he wanted me to move in, he had wanted me to move in with him for a while, he was just scared.
He didn't want me to realize how blind he was.
Of all the silly things.
Two bags of clothes, toiletries and some of Missy's things and I was done. The rest could wait.
And when I got back to Isaac's, Hannah was going through some papers, talking to who I quickly deduced was a bank. She was requesting password changes and instructing that all withdrawals until further notice had to have telephone verification from Isaac.
"What's going on?" I asked, leaving my bags in the foyer.
Isaac was still on the sofa holding Ada. "Hannah was looking through the paperwork in the desk that that guy went through. Apparently, there are some financial documents missing."
I walked in and sat down next to Isaac, putting my hand on his leg. "We'll need to call that detective."
Isaac nodded before leaning down and sniffing little Ada. "Ah, Hannah?"
"Yeah."
He crinkled his nose. "Um, the most amazing smelling little creature in the world doesn't smell so wonderful."
Carlos laughed. "Here," he said, leaning down and taking his daughter. "I'll take her."
Isaac settled back on the sofa and reached for my hand, and turned toward me. He was smiling. "Did you grab everything you need?"
I found myself smiling back at him. "Yeah, we can pick up anything else tomorrow or after work during the week."
He played with my fingers on the hand he was holding. "So, now we officially… cohabitate, what are you cooking for dinner?"
I chuckled and kissed the knuckles on his hand. It was usually a lot of fun when Isaac was feeling cheeky, but given the events of the last twenty-four hours, I was a little unsure of how he should be acting.
How is a blind person supposed to act after being attacked in their own home? It wasn't a violent attack, but terrifying nonetheless. His one safe haven had been breached. The one place where he felt secure, where he could let his guard down, had been violated.
I just went with it, with his mood. He seemed unfazed, even happy to have me move in. Yes, the incident with the intruder had thrown him, and he had a nightmare last night, but today he seemed almost jovial.
I also knew, if he kept ignoring the elephant in the room, he was likely to fall apart. When, how, or what the catalyst would be, was anyone's guess.
He might very well talk openly about his ordeal, he was getting better with his reluctance to talk. Or he could bottle it up until I said the wrong thing, and then proceed to rip my head off. That's the thing about Isaac Brannigan. It really could go either way.
"I thought I might grill some fish," I suggested, answering his question about dinner. "We can eat out on the back patio, then we can have a swim," I leaned in and whispered, "naked."
He gave me a shy smile. "I like those kinds of swims."
"I know you do."
Hannah cleared her throat. "Before you two get too carried away, don't forget to call that detective guy and tell him about the missing documents." She was starting to pack up the diaper bag, getting ready to leave. "You can tell him the bank's been notified and no fraudulent transactions had been processed so far."
She looked tired, and Isaac seemed to know. "Go home and get some rest, Hannah. I appreciate your help, but we'll be just fine. Thank you," Isaac said kindly.
"Isaac," she said seriously. "Please promise me you won't be taking the bus anymore."
"I'll be driving him to and from work every day," I answered, reinforcing the issue with Isaac. "Except for Thursday nights. I have house-calls and can't get there by the time he's finished."
"I can take care of Thursdays," Hannah said.
"You just had a baby," I reminded her, though I doubted she needed reminding. "He can cab it until you're ready."
"Are you both finished?" Isaac cried. "I'm quite capable of organizing myself!"
I took his hand in both of mine. "Isaac," I said firmly. "When it comes to your safety, we need to make sure we're covered, okay?"
"I'm not useless," he said again.
"You're far from useless," I replied.
"Then don't treat me like I am," he snapped. "I won't be scared off because of one guy."
"One guy who could have very well hurt you," I stated calmly. "What's to say next time he's not armed, or high on drugs? Isaac, we take this one time as a warning and learn from it. And we're not being scared off. You don't change being you, being independent, we just change tactics, that's all."
"I'm hardly independent when you two keep organizing everything on my behalf."
"You're more independent than you realize," I told him. "And stubborn. Have I ever mentioned how stubborn you are?"
Isaac sighed. "You're not going to let this go, are you?"
"No," I said adamantly. "I will negotiate on everything else, but not this. Not when it comes to your safety." We'd had similar conversations to this before, so he knew this was my one sticking point.
"What else is there to negotiate on?" he asked incredulously.
"There's plenty!" I told him. "Like who does what household chores, how much I pay you for rent and utilities…"
"You'll pay me no such thing."
"Yes, I will."
The sound of Hannah laughing made us both turn to where she and Carlos stood watching us argue. She shook her head. "Are you sure you two haven't been married for fifty years?"
She walked over to the sofa, leaned down and kissed the top of her brother's head. "I love you, Isaac. I'll call you tomorrow." Then she looked at me. "I'll call you Carter, and we'll work out Thursdays for picking him up."
"Sure thing," I told her. "Take that gorgeous little girl home and get some rest."
Pulling Isaac to his feet, we walked them out, said goodbyes, shut and locked the door behind them.
I slid my arms around his waist, pulling him against me, and pressed my lips to his. "We have all night to talk about the mundane stuff. Let's get dinner ready, then take that swim."
We swam some laps, which became a bit of a race. Isaac could out-swim me. He was fitter, he was faster. So it was only right that my highly strategic distract-Isaac-with-sex-tactic would be my only chance at any kind of ego salvage.
It probably wouldn't be so bad if Isaac didn't gloat like a frat boy.
If he was wearing swimming trunks—or any kind of clothing—I'd have pantsed him. But he wasn't wearing anything, except for that damn gloating grin. So I splashed him. Then I tried to wrestle him, but he threw me off, laughed at me, gripped me around the top of my arm and pulled me around and under the water instead.
So, coming up for air, and winning the only way I could, I pushed him up against the edge of the pool and kissed him. Hard.
At least he stopped laughing.
And when I pulled his legs up and wrapped them around my waist, he wasn't laughing at all.
I could tell by the way he kissed me, the way his fingers clawed at my shoulders, my back and through my hair, he wanted it. He needed it.
I broke away from his mouth, only to have him kiss feverishly down my neck. "Isaac, we need to go inside."
He nodded, taking in ragged breaths.
Out of the pool, I wrapped a towel around him, took his hand and led him through the house to his room.
To our room.
He stood before me, and I took my time drying him off, ensuring every inch of his skin was dry, and kissed. Kneeling in front of him, I wiped down his feet, up his calves, his thighs, leaving soft kisses in my wake. And when I replaced the towel with my tongue, licking his sac, rubbing my cheek and lips along his cock, his fingers threaded through my hair.
He guided me, showing me what he wanted, how he wanted it.
Without sight, his responses to touch, to sounds, were enhanced. If I licked him, twirled my tongue over his shaft, or moaned, his responses were my reward.
He'd groan, buck, writhe. And it would spur me on. The more he did it, the more I wanted it. Each reaction was honest, tactile, immediate.
I stood up and kissed his neck, then whispered in his ear. "Lie down on the bed for me."
I led him to the bed and grabbed supplies from the bedside table. I crawled over to where he was now lying down, settling between his legs. I kissed up his stomach, sucked his nipple into my mouth, then trailed wet kisses up his chest, neck and jaw. My voice was rough, "I think you need to come twice tonight."
He shivered from head to foot.
"Once in my mouth," I said, nipping below his ear. "Once when I'm inside you."
His hands found my face, and he pulled my mouth to his, caressing his tongue against mine. I settled my weight on him and his legs fell open, his hips thrusting into mine.
I could almost taste the desperation on his tongue.
I knew he wouldn't last long.
It only took a few passes of my mouth on his cock, a few twirls of my tongue and two fingers inside him to make him come the first time.
I'd never tire of the way he came. How his body would succumb to the pleasure, how his body would tense and the sounds he made.
How he tasted.
As he lay there completely boneless, I made my way back up his body and delved my tongue back into his mouth. "Taste you."
He groaned, his body still spent. "Carter."
My body tingled. I loved how he murmured my name like that. Deep, husky, sated.
"I haven't finished with you yet," I told him.
Goosebumps covered his skin. He shivered.
"Cold?" I asked with a smile.
He shook his head and whispered, "No."
"Roll over for me," I urged him, helping him onto his stomach.
I trailed my tongue down his spine, to the crack of his ass, spreading him with my hands so I could tongue his hole.
Isaac groaned, fisting the sheets and lifting his ass for me. He loved it. When I had two slicked fingers inside him, he was mumbling incoherently, and when I swiped his gland over and over, he was begging me. "Please, Carter. Please."
I flipped him over onto his back and folded his legs up to his chest. I leaned over him so I could kiss him and he quickly tried to wrap his legs around me, groaning in frustration when I denied him.
"I'm not ready," I told him. I took his hand and wrapped it around my engorged cock so he could feel it was bare. He squeezed me while I tore at the condom wrapper with my teeth, and quickly took hold of the backs of his thighs, holding his legs open for me. "Carter, please."
He was getting desperate. I pressed my sheathed cock against his ready hole. "Is that what you want?"
He nodded, lifting his hips, widening his legs. So I pushed inside him slowly, letting him breathe through the intrusion.
It took every ounce of self-control not to thrust in completely. "Baby, you okay?"
He nodded, letting go of his legs only to wrap his arms around me instead, and we started to move together.
Leaning over him, I had one elbow at the side of his head, and the other wrapped under his shoulder, my hands holding his head and face while I kissed him. His hard cock was pressed between us, sliding in his precum. I was so far inside him, and he was holding me so tightly, all I could do was rock my hips into him.
He held me tighter.
His legs gripped me harder.
"Fuck."
"Carter… coming," he grunted.
He flexed violently. All I could do was hold on while he clamped down around me, shaking as his orgasm rocked us both. His neck corded as his mouth fell open in a silent scream, and he spilled hot and thick between us.
Pleasure surged through me, with cold fire in my bones and lights behind my eyes, as I filled the condom deep inside him.
I don't know how long we rocked together. Long after I'd pulled out of him. We just lay together, all wrapped around each other. The sex between us was always intense. Sometimes it was frenzied fucking, sometimes lazy lovemaking. But it always intense.
Tonight's intensity was not anything out of the ordinary. At least I didn't think it was, until I saw the blunt scratches down my back. I knew Isaac was holding on to me tightly, I knew he was a little frantic, desperate even, but I'd never had war-wounds before. I smiled at the reflection in the bathroom mirror, before taking a warm, damp cloth back to bed.
Laying back down beside him, I took his hand and placed it over the scrape marks up my back. Even half asleep, he perked up, running his delicate fingers over the raised tracks.
"What's that?"
I laughed. "Your fingernails."
He gasped and ran his hand all over my back, searching for further scratches. "Does it hurt?"
I kissed him softly. "Not at all."
"Why are you smiling?"
"Because it's funny," I told him. "And hot."
His hand stopped moving. "Hot? But I marked you." He sat up in bed. "I'll get some cream for the scratches."
I pulled him back down and snuggled into him. "No you won't. You'll stay here with me."
He sighed and ran his hand gently over my back. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yes," I reassured him. "And Isaac?"
"Yeah."
"I like it when you mark me."
"Detective Zinberg? It's Isaac Brannigan."
I brought the two coffees with me into the living room and sat down beside him on the sofa.
"You told me to call if I thought of anything else," Isaac went on to say. "About the man who came into my house."
Isaac explained how Hannah had realized there was some banking documents missing, but the bank had been notified and no funds were missing. Then Isaac explained the accounts held quite a sum of money. I heard the detective ask something, and Isaac shifted in his seat. He was never comfortable discussing his money. “There was a compensation payout for the accident, the same accident that claimed my sight and my mother’s life. My father had the foresight to let a financial adviser manage the funds. There are term deposits, high-interest accounts and stocks and shares.” Isaac almost sneered. “Though I’m sure this information you’ve already found out.”
I could hear the murmur of the detective's deep voice through the phone as he continue to speak, and though I couldn't make out many words, it sounded like the police had spoken to someone about the home invasion.
Isaac frowned. "Was that necessary? I told you the physical description was of a man who walked with a limp."
The detective spoke again, but Isaac shook his head, obviously not too pleased with what Zinberg was saying. With an exasperated sigh, Isaac thanked him and disconnected the call.
I lifted his coffee mug and placed it in his hand. "What did he say?"
"He said they spoke to Joshua Lindstrom."
"As in the Joshua you work with?"
"Yes," Isaac said, shaking his head. "What am I supposed to say to him tomorrow at work?"
Isaac loved his job as a teacher at Hawkins School for the Blind. I’m not surprised he was worried about his reputation. "You tell him its procedure, and if he has nothing to hide, then he has nothing to worry about."
Isaac shrugged and sighed before sipping his coffee. "It's embarrassing."
"You've nothing to be embarrassed about, baby."
He shrugged one shoulder, silently telling me he didn't agree, so I changed the subject. "Well, it's Sunday morning. What did you want to do today?"
"Did you need to get anything from your place?"
"Yeah, I guess," I answered. "I thought we could do something a little more… romantic."
Isaac smiled as he sipped his coffee. "What did you have in mind?"
"Grocery shopping."
The coffee cup stopped half way to his mouth and his face turned toward me. "What?"
I chuckled. "Come on, we live together. It's a couple thing to do."
"Grocery shopping?"
He said it like I'd asked him to donate a kidney. "Yes, grocery shopping."
"But I have groceries delivered."
"It'll be fun."
"Fun?" he scoffed. "Do I need to get the dictionary for you again?"
I laughed. "We'll swing past my place and grab a few things, then we can go to the market."
He put his cup down on the coffee table. "Do you promise me you'll make it up to me later?"
I took his chin in between my thumb and forefinger and stole a coffee flavored kiss. "I promise."
The market was busy, there were people everywhere and Isaac wasn't familiar with it at all. Even with Brady, he was out of his comfort zone, but I never ventured too far from him.
"Smell this," I said, lifting the mango to his nose. "Smell good?"
"Mmm," he hummed.
I leaned in. "Mangos should be eaten whilst naked," I whispered. "That way when the juice runs down your chin, your neck and your chest, I can lick it off."
Isaac's mouth opened and closed, and he cleared his throat. "Then we better get a few."
I grinned. "And you thought this wouldn't be fun."
He shook his head. "You do realize everything in our cart is phallic, yes?"
I looked in the cart. Bananas, carrots, zucchinis, cucumbers, sweet potato. "Strawberries and mangos aren't," I told him.
"No, but what you want to use them for is rather… non-dietary."
Laughing, I picked up a whole pineapple and handed it to him. "I hope not, because I'm coming up blank with what I can do with a pineapple."
Isaac grinned and whispered, "If you get the canned, sliced pineapple rings, you could eat them off my-"
I burst out laughing, surprised at his blatant sexual remark. "How many rings do you think will fit?"
A blush crept over his cheeks and he bit his bottom lip. "We'll need two tins at least."
I bit back a groan. "I have a sudden craving for pineapple," I told him, just as someone interrupted us.
"Isaac?"
Isaac turned to the sound of another voice calling him by name.
"It's Joshua. Joshua Lindstrom."
The man was about our age—maybe a bit older than our twenty-seven years—tall, lean, with short sandy-colored hair and blue-grey eyes.
"Josh?" Isaac cleared his throat, his cheeks were still tinted with his earlier embarrassment. "What are you doing here?"
The man looked down at his hand-held basket. "Just grabbing a few things." Then he looked down at the pineapple Isaac was still holding. "Fresh pineapple, huh?"
"Oh, I um…"
I stepped in. "Here, I'll put that back. He prefers the canned stuff," I said, taking the fruit. Isaac cleared his throat, and smiling, I held out my hand to our guest. "I'm Carter Reece."
"Joshua Lindstrom." He shook my hand and gave me a tight smile, but he was obviously wondering what I was doing here with Isaac. Instead, he turned back to Isaac. "Please tell me what happened on Friday afternoon, Isaac. I had the police asking me questions—"
"I'm really sorry about that," Isaac interrupted. "I had no idea they'd question you. The police wanted to know if I'd recently met any new people at work…"
"It's fine, Isaac," Joshua said, patting his arm. "Is everything okay?"
"Oh, yeah," Isaac said dismissively.
"Isaac," I said. "I'll just go to the deli. I'll meet you back here."
I figured giving him some time with his work colleague, letting him explain what happened, was a good idea. I didn't know if this Joshua guy knew Isaac was gay, and I didn't want to put Isaac in an awkward position with someone he worked with.
As I stood in the line at the deli, I couldn't help but watch them. And that Joshua guy kept looking at me. Not in a good way, he wasn't checking me out or anything. It was like he was sizing me up as competition. He made no attempt to hide it, just a smug, what-are-ya-gonna-do-about-it look he kept giving me while he talked to Isaac.
I'd always been one to give people the benefit of the doubt, not one to judge without knowing. But I had a gut feeling about him.
I didn't like him.
I didn't like him at all.