THE FRAGRANT scents of bacon and garlic quickly filled Nash’s kitchen. Spaghetti carbonara was a dish he’d cooked probably a thousand times. It was quick and simple, provided he didn’t accidentally end up scrambling the eggs—something he’d done more than once. Ultimately, it was comfort food at its finest.
As he set to separating the egg yolks from the whites, the morning replayed in his mind. Nash knew that, despite Ford’s anger with Jack and the sadness he’d let show with Sam, he hadn’t been fully hit by Joel’s loss yet. It was coming. Nash knew it was. If Ford would let him, he would be there to help gather up the pieces of Ford’s broken heart and glue it back together. For now he would make sure he was fed. Food was the best balm for the soul there was.
He mixed everything together and plated it up. He’d made enough for four people, and carbonara was not known to reheat well, but there was nothing to be done about that now.
Nash carried the heaping plates into the dining room and placed them on the table. Ford rose from the sofa and joined Nash at the opposite side of the table.
“It smells amazing,” Ford said, picking up his cutlery and swirling some of the noodles onto his fork. “Thank you for making me lunch.”
“You’re welcome.”
They ate in silence, Nash digging in and Ford picking at his own, but they both managed to polish off most of what was on their plates.
Pasta eaten, Nash returned to the kitchen to put away the leftovers and deal with the dishes. Ford walked in right after him and rinsed his plate in the sink before bending to place it in the dishwasher. He walked over to where Nash was soaking the large pot in the sink, and Nash felt Ford’s hands trailing down his stomach, stopping on the front of his pants.
Ford slid the button through the hole and pulled the flaps of his jeans open.
Suddenly nerves took hold, which was uncharted territory for Nash. He hadn’t been nervous about sex since he was a teenager, fumbling around in the dark and hoping not to get caught, but the day had gone so spectacularly sideways for Ford, and Nash was aware of how emotional and vulnerable he was.
Topping that off with uncertainty about where they stood with one another meant that all Nash wanted to do was take him to bed and never let him leave, but the more logical side of his brain warned him to tread carefully. There was a very thin line between being what Ford needed and taking advantage. It was a line Nash wanted very much not to cross.
“Ford, maybe we shouldn’t today….”
Ford’s hands dropped, and Nash turned, prepared to see hurt or dejection on Ford’s face. What he didn’t expect was anger as Ford backed up.
“I’m not incapable of making my own decisions.”
“I didn’t say you were. I think… today was tough, and maybe the reasons—”
“Today was outstandingly fucked up. I feel like I’ve been beat to shit, and I want to forget feeling like this for a while. I know you can make me forget, so I’m asking you, Nash, to fuck me until everything else is wiped away. Can you do that for me or not?”
It took about a third of a second for Nash to make that decision. He turned off the water that was still running in the sink next to him and dried his hands, then stalked forward. He saw Ford swallowing hard as he approached.
Nash reached out, sliding his hands, just barely, along Ford’s sides, skimming his rib cage, down to his hips. Gripping the bottom of Ford’s shirt, he lifted it, pulling it up and off. He trailed the backs of his knuckles down Ford’s stomach, watching the muscles jump at his touch.
Ford reached for him, running his shaking hands up Nash’s chest as Nash unbuttoned Ford’s pants and pushed them down over his hips. Ford stepped out of them, and he stood there, naked and exposed in Nash’s kitchen, his body trembling. Nash could feel the little quakes as he ran his palms over Ford’s back, pulling him in, molding him against his own body. Ford’s fingers tangled in his hair, tugging hard enough for Nash to get the message.
He dipped his head, capturing Ford’s mouth, pressing their lips together, reluctance and hesitance having gone completely. Ford opened for him, and Nash slid their tongues together, swallowing the sound of Ford’s moan as he bowed against him. Nash caught him, one arm around his waist, eliminating the last of the space between them while Nash attempted to obliterate Ford’s mind with that simple kiss.
Nash could feel Ford’s erection pressing against his own equally hard cock. He could hear the desperate sounds and begging whimpers that rose from Ford’s throat. Each movement, each noise pushed heat and desire through Nash. He’d wanted Ford since the first time he’d seen him, and the desire for him had only increased since.
Reaching down, he slid his hands under Ford’s bare ass, lifting him easily off the floor. Without breaking the kiss, Ford wrapped his arms tightly around Nash’s shoulders, his legs around Nash’s waist, and Nash walked them to the bedroom. With each step, Nash’s desperation grew. Ford was naked and willing in his arms, and if he didn’t get inside him soon, he was going to lose his mind.
He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled Ford closer to him, forcing him to rut up against Nash’s stomach. Ford rocked into him, kissing him hard and groaning as Nash reached around, rubbing two fingers at Ford’s entrance. When his movements became frenzied, Nash tossed Ford down against the soft duvet, Ford’s head hitting the pillows and sinking in as he tore his shirt over his head, then stepped out of his pants.
“Turn over and hold on to the headboard,” Nash commanded, stroking his cock as he stood at the foot of the bed.
Ford scrambled to his knees and did as he was told, his grip on the top of the wooden frame tight enough that Nash could see his knuckles turn white.
He was so beautiful, spread out like that. Nash wanted to take a few moments to appreciate the view. He’d never seen anything so goddamn stunning. His back curved, his body begging, Ford looked over his shoulder with his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. Uncertainty mixed with desperation.
“Nash?”
“I’m right here, baby,” he said, kneeling on the bed.
He ran his hands along Ford’s thighs, up over his ass. Ford leaned into the touch, and Nash moved closer, folding his body over Ford’s, his knees pushing Ford’s farther apart as he pressed kisses against the back of Ford’s neck.
Ford let his head fall forward, the muscles in his shoulders and back bunching. Nash didn’t know if he’d ever get enough of Ford’s body, the way he moved when he was this turned on, the noises he made when he wanted Nash to touch him. It was overwhelming and completely addictive.
Nash moved lower, kissing along Ford’s spine, enjoying the gentle curve of his arched back as he moved lower. Licking and sucking at Ford’s skin the whole way, he learned what Ford liked, changing the pressure and the intensity, listening for cues in Ford’s moans.
Nash paused only long enough to grab lube and condoms from the bedside table before he was back. He slicked up one finger and slid it gently into Ford, watching it disappear inside his body. Ford moaned and rocked back against it, head falling forward once more as Nash added a second finger.
He took his time, preparing Ford, making sure he was ready, because once he was inside him, it was not going to be gentle. Minutes passed, and Ford was murmuring, his words nearly incoherent and his tone pleading.
Nash pulled his hand away and slid a condom on, slicking himself up before aligning the tip of his cock against Ford’s entrance.
With one swift thrust, he buried himself in Ford’s body. Ford cried out, the sound needy and broken, and once more Nash molded his body against Ford’s back. Tangling his fingers in Ford’s hair, he pulled, just hard enough to sting. He forced Ford’s head back and tilted it to the side, finding Ford’s mouth with his own.
The kisses lacked all finesse, but Nash needed that connection as he pulled back and thrust forward again, hips snapping, slamming into Ford’s body.
“Jesus, fuck, Nash. Don’t stop.”
Like that was ever a possibility. Nash set a brutal rhythm, gripping Ford’s hips tightly, holding him still. Nash poured everything into his movements, every ounce of worry and fear and lust. The emotions crested, and still Nash didn’t let up, pushing Ford to the very edge. It was so good, so unbelievably good. They would both be feeling this for days.
Nash could feel his orgasm building, floating toward the surface. Letting go of one hip, he wrapped his fist around Ford’s cock instead, jacking him in rhythm. Ford cried out, his muscles spasming around Nash, pushing him right over the edge. He could feel the wet heat of Ford’s come pouring over his fingers as he emptied himself inside Ford’s body.
Sweat and come mixed as Nash carefully pulled out and turned Ford in his arms, kissing him hard. They came down together, their chests heaving and breaths mingling.
Nash held him close, his arms tight around Ford, as though he could hold him together through strength alone. Nash felt better, knowing Ford was there with him. He couldn’t keep the grief away forever, but he could hopefully soften the strike when it finally hit full force.