Micah eased himself out before sinking onto Grady with a slow exhale. He took Micah’s weight gladly, arms contracting to hold his lover tight. That was the safest term he had. Anything else held too much promise. But he could do lover.
Wanted a lover—finally.
He closed his eyes and let himself absorb everything about the moment. From the tenderness that swelled in his chest to the disbelief that this powerful, confident guy trusted him with his vulnerability.
He had no idea why, but he refused to ruin the warm tranquility with his own insecurities. Endorphins still buzzed slow and happy through his system, and each slow inhalation brought a potent whiff of come-covered woods. He almost laughed at that. A few good fucks and he was turning into a sap.
And if it was just about the fucks, he wouldn’t be so scared.
He let his legs slide to the mattress and stroked a hand over Micah’s back, comforting however he could. Trust me. But could Micah really? He swallowed, the stab an old ache made worse by his loose tongue and hungry heart.
“I’ve got you,” he repeated in barely a whisper, arms contracting. He did. Damn it, he did. “It’s Grady. We’re in your bedroom. It’s morning,” he continued, unsure what Micah needed, but determined to give it. “I wasn’t timing it, but you might’ve made it past the five-minute mark that time.”
He waited for the scoff or snarky laugh that didn’t come. His concern doubled, thoughts flying to everything that could be wrong. His training automatically clicked on, but a check of Micah’s pulse disguised behind a caress and hold on his wrist nudged the worry back. He kept his hand there when Micah twisted his wrist beneath Grady’s hold. Micah’s back lifted and fell in even breaths, the exhales feathering over the damp skin on his chest to warm and cool it.
Micah was physically fine. Don’t smother him.
“I’m squashing you,” Micah mumbled, an incoherent slur to the words.
He kissed the top of his head and hugged him tighter. “Not even close.” It shouldn’t have been true. Spending the night, lazing away a morning with a guy, come slicking their chests together was not his norm.
Nothing about Micah was his norm.
Content to lie there as long as Micah needed, he closed his eyes and let everything else go. For the first time ever, they had no reason to rush. No one needed the room and the threat of a Kick partner seeing him was gone. Even Finn couldn’t intrude—if he didn’t let him.
“You smell like come.”
Grady’s chuckle was suppressed beneath Micah’s weight. “I refuse to apologize for that.”
“You shouldn’t.”
The dreamy quality in Micah’s voice beckoned Grady closer and opened his own heart in ways he’d sworn never to allow again. Yet it was becoming impossible to resist the one guy who gave him his desire without demeaning him in the process. No ridicule or put-downs. No attempt to control him in any way, not even during sex, truly.
Micah, who’d exposed so much of himself, including his vulnerabilities, to Grady with no demands or expectations in return.
“I was born and raised in Southern California,” he started, nerves tightening across his chest and thinning his voice. “My dad was…” He swallowed back that instant shot of anger. “He was a controlling dick. He ran the house and my mom and I were there to serve him.” It’d taken him years to temper his thoughts into something adult-sounding.
“And my mom…” God, his mom. He squeezed his eyes closed, still unable to process his emotions surrounding her. But he had to get this out now or it might never come. “She went along with him. She didn’t have it in her to stand up to him. Not even for me.”
Micah inhaled sharply and started to rise, but Grady held him tighter until he slowly relaxed. His gentle kiss to Grady’s chest managed to land on his heart though. An amazing feat given the layers of skin, muscle, and bone between the two.
He blinked away the burn in his eyes, grateful Micah couldn’t see. He cleared his throat, caressing Micah’s back for the comfort he obtained from the gesture.
“She was always there for me when he wasn’t around, but the second he stepped into the house, I was on my own.” A scrawny little kid who’d hit his growth-spurt late. An easy target, just like his mother. “My dad tended to work long hours—which was good. Until he came home crabby, demanding and expecting us both to jump when he yelled. And we did.” Sometimes he’d been fast enough and other times not. Then the real berating would start.
“Can I say ‘that blows’?”
“You can.” He shrugged though, unable to take the offered empathy for fear of breaking down even more. “But it’s done now. My dad was an ass, but I loved my mom. I even get where she was back then.” After James, it was so much easier to understand her sense of helplessness. “It just was, you know?”
He’d gotten through each day, kept to himself as much as possible and had tried to anticipate his dad’s demands before they were made. The setup for the good little submissive. He saw it clearly now. If only he’d been wiser when he was younger.
“Yeah.” Micah pressed another kiss to Grady’s chest. “I do.”
Did he really though? “My mom encouraged me to take my first summer job at a rafting outfitter when I was still in high school.” She’d insisted actually. A quiet move he’d only understood later when he’d needed a job and a place to go. “My dad kicked me out after he caught me on my knees, sucking a boy off.”
“Asshole,” Micah mumbled.
He swallowed, unable to prevent the past from jabbing at the sore spot on his heart. It’d been daring and reckless to fool around at his house, which had made it more exciting at the time. He scoffed at his own stupidity.
“My mom didn’t try to stop him.” He hadn’t really expected her to either. “His parting shot to me was, ‘If you’re going to be a weak, pansy-ass faggot, at least be man enough to take the blowjob, not give it.’ ”
“Shit.” Micah sprung up, eyes wide and filled with compassion. “What’d you do? Is that when you went to that dick, James?”
A smile tugged on his lips for some odd reason. It wasn’t funny, yet the usual pain vanished under Micah’s earnest concern.
“I had two months until I graduated.” Time that’d seemed endless. “Fortunately, the boy I was caught with felt like shit, and his parents gave me a place to stay.” Because that’s what supportive parents did. Like Micah’s. “But I knew it was only temporary. He was going to college and I wasn’t. Not without my dad’s financial support.”
Micah’s penetrating stare hunted out the unsaid implication, and Grady let him. Hiding seemed useless, and for once, he didn’t want to.
“That’s when you went to James, right? When you were at your lowest. Looking for help and desperate to find someplace safe to stay.”
His smile was weak against the truth laid out before him. “It’s easy to see now. How James worked his way into my life. How he manipulated me by helping and supporting me.” He shook his head, the distance of time and space making things clearer if not easier. “He taught me everything he knew about reading a river. Shared his love of whitewater and running a rapid.” A love Grady still had. “He also paid for my Wilderness EMT training. That’d been his idea. One that’d backfired on him.”
“How so?”
He chuckled, his smirk catching on the confidence that’d taken him a long time to build. “The training was a month-long course at a facility in Wyoming. James probably thought I’d miss him. Instead it gave me my way out. I made contacts, used the new accreditation to find a new job.” All done secretly. Scared shitless but determined to leave. “I went back for my gear and bolted one night when he was out.” In the car James had bought for him.
“And you were what? Eighteen? Nineteen?”
“Nineteen.”
“Fuck.” Micah shook his head, deep grooves marring his forehead. “Do you have any idea how strong you are?” Grady snorted his doubt, but Micah overrode him. “Seriously. I was a half-drunk kid in college, living on Mom and Dad’s generosity when I was that age. My biggest worries were grades and if I should buy a beer or food that night.” He leaned in, voice firm. “You survived. You made something of your life. You didn’t let your dad or James or anyone define who you are. That is strength.”
God, Micah was so damn handsome. Eyes fierce with his need to correct what he believed to be wrong.
“My knight come a-charging?” He trailed a finger down Micah’s jaw, his smile back for some crazy reason. It’d be so easy to tumble into all that passion and honesty, and that’d be a major mistake when he had so little to offer in return.
“Yeah, right.” Micah snorted and flopped to the side, exposing a mess of half-dried come on their chests and stomachs. Their mutual groans of disgust rang through the room before Grady broke into laughter.
“There’s your come,” Micah mocked, frowning at the drooping condom clinging to his wilted dick, the contents leaking over his pubic hair. “Shower?” He glanced at Grady, expression held for half a beat before a laugh burst free.
He shoved Micah’s arm. “Go.” He pushed him to the side of the bed, happy to let his downer past go. “You’re leaving a spooge trail.”
Micah gaped back at him. “And whose fault is that?”
“All mine.” He grinned, proud as hell about it.
“Ass.”
“Bite me.”
Micah snorted and stood, slapping his really nice ass cheek. “Bite this.”
Grady bolted out of bed and chased after him, the desire to meet that challenge urging him on. Micah beat him to the bathroom, his half-waddle with one hand holding the drooping condom hysterical enough to let him win. Damn, he was cute and Grady had never dreamed of applying that term to him.
But it fit.
He rushed into the bathroom after Micah, laughing as he pinned him to the counter. He sank to his haunches and had his teeth firmly locked onto that tempting ass cheek before Micah could wiggle free.
“Ow! Fuck.” Micah swatted at his head and tried to arch away.
He chuckled around his mouthful and held on for a moment longer, taking another hit to the head. A clear set of teeth marks blazed white, then red when he finally let go. His laughter slowly died, wonder sliding in. He smoothed his hand over the little dents, liking them. Wanting them to stay.
“I marked you.” He stood, gaze meeting Micah’s in the mirror. His hand went to the faded bruise on the juncture of his neck, smile forming. “I guess we’re even.”
Micah swallowed, something close to possessiveness in his eyes. “Looks like it.”
Desire sprang up hot and fast in his groin, his dick perking up with a “hell yes” as his heart hitched with longing. Oh, hell no. He quickly turned away to start the shower. His dick didn’t get a say in anything more than fucking. Period.
And his heart? It didn’t know what it wanted. The damn thing had been broken too long to trust. And he sure as hell didn’t trust himself to make any decisions regarding men or life or…well, anything at the moment.
“Are you joining me?” Grady asked before he stepped under the spray. Keep it light. Don’t be an ass. Brush it off. “Or do you enjoy stinking like day-old fish?”
Micah entered the shower stall, condom finally disposed of. “Since when does come smell like rotting fish?”
“Who said I was talking about the come?”
The punch landed on his arm, but it lacked any real heat. He turned his back to Micah, smiling as he dipped his head under the water. God, it was so nice to laugh again.
So nice to just smile.
It was easy to forget about his problems when Micah was there to make him feel so damn good. But nothing else had changed, and all too soon reality would be back to slap him down.
He could always count on that.