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“Oh my God,” he groans, his fingers splaying through my hair. “I didn’t think that’d actually work.” Choking on a laugh around his sweetened cock, I give the side of his ass a little swat.
“You’re serious?” he asks, looking to his son. “Yeah, Dad,” Riley says earnestly, squeezing my hand. “I’m totally serious. I really like him.” Flashing me a smile, he draws our hands up, kisses my knuckles and adds, “A lot.” Charlie processes for a second and then lets out an amused puff of breath. Looking me in the eye, he holds up his coffee like he’s making a toast. “Good luck, son. My best to you.” Riley beams, clapping him on the shoulder. “Thanks, Dad.” “Wasn’t talking to you,” Charlie says matter-of-factly, returning to his breakfast casserole.
“My son came out of the womb with a smile on his face that’s rarely left it since that day, but,” she pauses, glancing into the living room with a fond expression, “I’ve never seen him this happy, truly, genuinely, bone-deep happy.” Cupping my cheek, her eyes look as glassy as mine feel. “Whatever you’re doing…keep doing it.”
“I don’t think they use the word balls too often.” “Hey, this is my audiobook. I can have balls if I want.”
Riley’s cock bucks in approval when…Harper’s talented hands claim his very well-endowed, throbbing, engorged member,” he pants, pressing his hands to the wall. Fucking Riley.
“You…stopped narrating,” I point out. “Does that mean you didn’t like it?” Clearing his throat and panting, his feet inch farther apart astride my knees. His hips tilt back, and he sighs, leaning into the wall. “And then,” he pauses to swallow, “Riley forgot how to spell his name.”
“I think I might remember one word.” “What’s that?” “M-o-r-e.”
“Are you okay?” His wet hair brushes against my chest as he nods with a little grunt, his fingers idly stroking my nipple. “And then,” he says breathily, “Riley passed out in a very sexy way.”
“I don’t need you. Not in the ways you think.” Turning his body toward me, he grips my hand. “I need you to be happy. I need you to laugh at me and with me. I need to know when you’re sad so I can hold you and cheer you up. And I need you to stop finishing the job that asshole started. You said the other day that you’ve got nothing to offer anyone. That’s him talking. That’s not what I think and not how you should think about yourself. Nobody should beat you up anymore, including yourself.”
If my heart wasn’t bleeding already, it is now. I love him. I love him with every sad, miserable, aching fiber of my heart, but that’s the problem. If I tell him, he’ll want me to stay when I’m the last thing he needs.
“There’s a mole on your left hip the size of a pencil eraser!” he calls out, making my arm freeze halfway through donning my jacket. “You’ve got a scar at the edge of your right eyebrow.” Sighing, I pinch my eyes shut to fight back more tears.
“Your hair is a shade darker than Larry’s fur,” he continues adamantly. “There’s a constellation of beauty marks above your right collarbone, and one lone one on your buttcheek.”
“I…I don’t have a freckle on my butt,” I blurt, gaping at him. “You do,” he says, his voice dropping. “It’s down low, on your right cheek.” “How? How…”
“But my favorite one is the one on your cock, right about…here,” he adds, tapping his finger to a spot on the fly of his jeans, to a spot where I do have a freckle on my cock. My heart wallops a resounding thump as he stares right at me. “Did…can…can you see me?”
“Only once. It had come and gone periodically, but…I got to see you in bed one morning.” He saw me? He saw me, and I missed it. All I can do is sniffle, watching the corner of his mouth tick up. “You’re hot, by the way,” he adds.
“Harper’s sexy ass boxer briefs,” his mischievous voice comes over the speaker, making me laugh and my cheeks warm. “They’re not,” I whisper. “They’re absolutely not.”
I believed terrible lies from Dallas, but I rejected the ones I thought were good lies from Riley.
“Another boring pair of underwear that Harper makes look sexy. Dear underwear, you’re welcome.” And the next… “Briefs. Color—a dark shade of Riley-wants-to-take-them-off-with-his-teeth.”
Hitting the scan button, I hold my breath. “Mr. Reid…why do these smell like sugar cookies?” the app broadcasts his voice over my phone’s speaker.
Healing, Rosalyn said. Part of recovering from abuse is healing and allowing yourself to grieve. So, I bury my face in my hand and weep over the self-inflicted abuse I gave my heart. This time, it’s okay to cry.
“Riley,” I choke out as he reaches to cup my jaw. “I miss you,” he whispers. “I miss you too,” I confess. “Then…can we try again?” Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“I don’t want to fuck you,” I inform him. “Do you…still want to be with women?” That brain of his. My God, it’s like talking to Larry sometimes. Where does he get these ideas?
“I don’t want to fuck you because what we do together isn’t fucking. I want to make love with you, and I don’t care how we do it or when we do it or if we ever don’t.”
Taking his hand, I place it over my chest and hold it there. “This thing inside my chest? Do you feel that? It bangs on my ribs like it’s trying to break out of a cage whenever I’m with you or without you, whenever I think of you. Let me le...
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“You taught me how to see. I honestly don’t know why God gave me eyes before you came along, because I didn’t use them for a damn thing until I saw you.”
“I’ve got nothing to give you though.” “How can you say that?” I whisper, wrapping my arms around him, grateful to have him close again. “You have the only thing I want. You. Just you. Your kind heart, your jokes, your laughter, your smiles, your beautiful fucking intelligence. Your patience.”
“We’re real.” Another kiss. “We’re real,” I repeat, sealing the oath. “Let us be real.”
“I love you. I love you so much it hurts. I thought I had to stop it before it hurt me even more, but it only made it hurt worse being without you.”
“Do you have to go into work today?” “No. I took the whole day off. Can I…just hold you for a while?” “You can hold me forever,” I tell him, kissing his nose.
It’s dark, but I’m no longer in the dark. I have my light back, and he’s going to be okay.
“You want some company tonight?” “Uh, are glitter pens an inappropriate writing utensil?” Snickering, he rises from the bed, followed by the distinct sound of his belt buckle unfastening. “I’m glad we both agree on the answer to that one.”
“I realized something.” “What’s that?”
“I realized…I love you more than I’m afraid of anything.”
“I’m ready, if you are.” Cupping my face, he smiles at me with nothing but love. “I think I’ve been ready for you my whole life.” Riley. My Riley.
“Why did you wait so long to do this to me?” I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of the way his words surprise me. Rotating my hips up into him for a tease, I grunt, “I didn’t know you’d want it.” “Fuck. Your lap is my new favorite place.” Laughing—he’ll always have me laughing at the most inopportune times. “Riley, you have no filter.”
“Missed you. I fucking missed you.” A tear slips down my cheek, the kind I’ll never mind shedding. “Missed you so much,” I tell him. And it’s true. In the three weeks of healing, of finding myself, of becoming the man I want to be for him and myself, saying goodnight and sleeping down the hallway while longing for his arms was a battle. I wanted to return to him whole, even though I knew he would have taken me in pieces.
“I don’t want him to ever think I want him to be something he’s not. He should know I love him just the way he is, and that it’s okay to be a Larry.” My arms tighten around him instinctively, my heart skipping a beat. Pressing my lips into his soft, loved-up hair, I whisper, “He knows now. It’s why he loves you so much.”
“Were you going to serve me breakfast in bed?” “Nah, but I was going to give you a raspberry on your stomach to wake you up when it was time to eat.” “Mm, that’s very thoughtful.” “That’s my middle name.”
“You’re going to leave me now, aren’t you?” “Why would I do that?” he laughs. “Young, attractive, well off. You’ve got the world at your fingertips.” “What about you?” he challenges. “Nah, you’re stuck with me.”
