Cover Up (17 page)

However, Ivan did not seem to be in a hurry to get lube and condoms, and Parker knew damn well he had both, although he wasn’t going to mention that.

With Ivan’s lips and tongue moving over Parker’s neck, ears, and chest—making sure to focus on the newly discovered erogenous zone along his collarbone—he managed to distract Parker from thinking about fucking, because even fucking had never felt as good, like Ivan could play with him forever.

The steady friction of Ivan’s erection against his, made enticingly slick by precum, pulled him closer and closer to the edge.

Every inch of skin pressed against Ivan’s tingled from the contact. Parker ran his palms up Ivan’s fuzzy forearms before reaching around and digging his fingers into Ivan’s smooth back, giving himself more leverage for his upward thrusts to meet Ivan’s downward ones.

Next time, he’d explore Ivan top to bottom. Those hard muscles begged for closer examination, including licking and sucking.

Ivan wormed a hand underneath Parker’s ass and grabbed his ass cheek, assisting Parker’s thrusts. Parker followed suit and grabbed Ivan’s flexing ass with both hands.

Then came the moment of no return. Parker wasn’t going to last any longer. Dammit. “Ivan, I’m gonna—”

Ivan moved quickly and kissed him, tongue tangling wildly with the deep, chesty groan that accompanied Parker spurting all over his belly.

He relaxed back onto the mattress, too blissed to care that he’d had two awesome orgasms to Ivan’s none. Ivan still tongue fucked his mouth and still rode his cock against Parker’s now slick one.

While still enjoying the twitchy aftershocks of his orgasm and the rhythmic flex of Ivan’s glutes under his palms, Ivan pulled out of the kiss and threw his head back while his entire body stiffened.

The sudden stillness of the man above him left him free to concentrate on the subtle jerking of Ivan’s spewing cock and the gush of warmth over his cock and balls. Ivan slumped against him, his breath harsh and choppy in Parker’s ear. Parker smiled at the ceiling. If they didn’t move soon, they’d be glued together, but there was nowhere else Parker would rather be.

He’d have to be careful, though. Ivan may have proven himself to be not as straight as Parker believed, but he had just gotten out of a volatile and acrimonious marriage. The odds of him wanting to jump into a relationship would be almost nil, but as they lay together, sweaty and sated, he could dream. Dream that they’d do this every night. When Ivan came home from a hard day selling insurance—and Parker had never imagined such a job would be so stressful—Parker could soothe him, feed him, and take him to bed. Huh. Sort of like Ivan had done for him just now. Maybe the dream wasn’t too wildly improbable.

Ivan’s breathing evened out, and he planted a light kiss on Parker’s neck before he reached down to grab a T-shirt from the floor. He slid off to Parker’s side and swiped at their groins with the T-shirt.

“Gross.” Parker made sure the teasing was evident in his voice.

Ivan lifted a brow. “Well, I could have used your shirt.”

“You couldn’t. Mine’s still downstairs.”

“Whatever. How ’bout I show you gross.” Ivan straddled him again, threatening to rub the damp cotton in his face. Parker struggled and flipped his face from side to side, trying to avoid the impromptu cumrag, but the laughter made everything a little halfhearted.

When they were both out of breath from the mock fight, Ivan threw the crumpled shirt across the room and tucked Parker up to his chest, lips brushing over his nape in faint approximations of kisses.

His eyelids grew heavy as he relaxed in the warmth of Ivan’s arms. A deep breath, which sounded alarmingly like a snore, jerked him into full consciousness. He couldn’t fall asleep here. That just wasn’t possible.

He eased out from under Ivan’s arms. He didn’t even have any clothes to gather, because they were all still downstairs. He’d have to grab them in the morning.

“Where are you going?” Ivan’s sleepy voice made Parker pause.

“To my room.”

“You could stay here, you know. I don’t mind.”

Parker glanced at Ivan over his shoulder. He wanted to. He really did. But he shouldn’t sleep without his stupid, ugly machine. If his lack of sexual prowess hadn’t scared Ivan off, that surely would. He didn’t think any boyfriend would be able to overlook the CPAP, never mind right after the first time they’d had sex. How could they? Parker could barely look at himself without shuddering.

“I can’t. I just… can’t.” Parker turned and fled. Sleeping—actually sleeping—with a guy would mean more to him than simple sex, and he was pretty sure that’s all Ivan thought this was. All he had to do was keep Ivan interested until he got over the negative emotions from his divorce, and living together would give him lots of opportunities to.

Inside his room, his bed looked so big, and tonight of all nights it wasn’t going be nearly as comfortable as it usually was.

Sighing, he sat down and pulled the hated black tubing and mask out of his nightstand and prepared himself for sleep. He lay back on his chilly sheets, breathing apparatus on, wishing Ivan were still wrapped around him, wishing he could still smell Ivan’s sweat and cum.

Chapter 7

B
LOOD
covered Parker’s chest, and splatters speckled the ashen skin of his face. Ivan worked frantically to stem the bleeding and keep him breathing, keep his heart pumping, but he knew, as those green riverbed eyes clouded over, he was going to fail. Again. With a deep whooping breath, like the nightmare had managed to physically strangle him, Ivan sat up in bed and panted.

Nostrils flaring, he grabbed the corner of the sheet and swiped at the sweat pouring off his face and chest. Parker wasn’t the only one he failed to save in his dreams, but he was definitely the most frequent visitor to his nightmares. And the most terrifying. In a matter of days, he’d managed to become a very important person in Ivan’s life, and as much as he’d like to say it was because of the investigation, he didn’t think that was it.

He’d been hurt, unreasonably so, by Parker returning to his room last night. No matter how many chances Ivan gave him, after all was said and done, the guilt of cheating must have gotten to him. Hell, it got to Ivan too. He thought in the cold light of morning he’d have no regrets; he’d somehow be absolved of all guilt because they hadn’t had anal sex. Yeah, he was a real fucking hero. But anal sex wasn’t the be-all and end-all of sex. Lips were kissed. Bare skin was stroked. Cocks were touched and sucked. People came. Penetration meant nothing in the wake of that. They’d had sex.

Ivan had knowingly conspired with Parker to cheat on Neil. Hating Neil didn’t make it better. No excuses were valid, as he’d told Colin. He still felt that, but now he could add blackened, choking guilt on top of his other issues. Which didn’t take into account his job. Getting involved with a suspect was not only the territory of sappy romance novels, but a big fucking professional taboo.

He knew what had prompted the dream tonight. He’d expected the presence of Parker in his arms to keep the dreams at bay, but he’d left. Completely unexpectedly. Ivan never thought his narrow, extra firm bed would ever be comfortable, especially not with a second person, but he’d been pleasantly surprised. He’d also been surprised by Parker’s choice to have sex in Ivan’s room. This morning, it wasn’t so surprising. Probably he’d been aware all along that the bed would be a continuous reminder of his infidelity, as Ivan’s bed at home had been until he’d replaced it.

Grabbing a pair of sweatpants, he stood and pulled them on, trying to ignore the dried cum he’d missed the night before. He needed to get in the shower and get the fuck out of here before Parker woke up.

A glance at the clock assured him he had plenty of time. The nightmares, which littered his dreams with the dead and kept him semiconscious most of the night, had at least ensured he’d awoken before the sun. Students Parker’s age weren’t usually morning people.

A
FTER
a quick shower, which didn’t seem to disturb Parker’s sleep, he dressed quickly. Ivan grabbed his sheets and the soiled T-shirt and ran downstairs to throw them in the washing machine. Sleeping on those sheets tonight would be… difficult at best.

As he poured detergent into the machine and started it, his stomach roiled, a sickly mix of hunger and regret. He’d planned for another day hanging out with Parker, “auditing” classes, but pretending nothing had happened last night, especially if they ran into Neil, would be impossible. He was already holding on to so many secrets they were straining his mind at the seams like an overfilled balloon. One extra pressure and all his careful preparations would explode in a messy, life-threatening disaster.

He’d have to follow Parker again because searching the house was just out. He couldn’t stay here alone all day, remembering. Sex was sex and he’d engaged in lots of it, before Colin, with Colin, and after Colin. But not even with Colin, at the idyllic beginning of their relationship, had it ever fucked with his mind like sex with Parker had. This wasn’t a normal situation, not at all, and he had to remember that.

Ivan dragged himself upstairs, intending to grab a quick breakfast before he stationed himself in his observation post to wait for Parker to head out for classes. Then he tripped over Parker’s well-worn jeans and briefs on the kitchen floor. The regret overtook the hunger and boiled up into anger that burned so bright he could barely breathe. Damn Parker for making him the other man, and damn him for being everything Ivan wanted. A low growling came from his throat, and he slammed his fist into the wall.

Pain splintered across his knuckles and flew up his arm. He pulled his arm back, cradling his fist. At least he hadn’t turned his hand into mulch against a concrete wall. Only a small dent and some flakes of paint to show where he’d lost control. And damn Parker for being a criminal in the first place. If Parker hadn’t decided to become a criminal, Ivan would have never met him, and at the moment, that could only be a good thing.

The agony in his knuckles pulsed in time to the anger heating his ears as blood welled up from scrapes, and he wanted to shake Parker. This was all his fucking fault. He wanted to shout at Parker, beat Neil’s stupid face in. When he realized he’d taken a few steps toward the stairs, he took a deep shuddery breath and held it, hoping to calm himself. The sound of Parker shutting the bathroom door stretched the already abused threads of his self-control. He had to get the fuck out.

His left hand shook so much he had difficulty closing his fingers around the door handle, but the humidity had been negligible overnight, and he didn’t have to put all his weight into getting the door open. His heart rate sped up when the toilet flushed.

Get out, get out, get out.

Ivan slammed the door behind him and hit the sidewalk running. He didn’t know where he was running to, but he ran like his life depended on it.

P
ARKER
stumbled out of the bathroom. He hadn’t slept nearly as well as he should have after two spec-fucking-tacular orgasms, but he only had himself and CPAP to blame. Losing all that weight while taking care of his mom should have made his sleep apnea go away. But it hadn’t. Even if he’d decided to spend the night with Ivan, take the risk of sleeping without his machine, knowing he snored louder than a half-dozen chainsaws would make it impossible to face Ivan in the morning. One day, he’d like to wake up in someone’s arms, someone he cared about, but the black tubing and hideous mask was an effective deterrent.

Then again, he’d never imagined someone as sexy and sweet as Ivan would ever be interested in him.
Baby steps, baby steps.

No force on earth could have stopped him from glancing in Ivan’s open door. The empty room and the stripped mattress was an unexpected slap to the face. Ivan must have awoken at the crack of dawn, foiling Parker’s hope that he could stare at a sleeping Ivan, twisted up in the sheets they’d had sex in, maybe smile at the memory of Ivan’s playfulness.

Ah well. It didn’t much surprise him that Ivan would wash his sheets after sex. It was a habit Parker actually approved of, after one disgusting incident with a date earlier in the year. The guy’s sheets had been positively crunchy, and it didn’t matter whether it was from other guys or himself. Parker had fled, and he’d never been so happy in his life that dating prospects were so few and far between.

“Ivan?” There was no answer, so he walked downstairs and tried again. Nothing. Where had he gone? Yesterday he’d said he was going come with Parker again to the university. He didn’t know why Ivan had decided to audit his courses, but he’d enjoyed having his friends meet Ivan. He’d enjoyed spending time with him out in public. Made them seem a little more than roommates. He laughed. After last night, roommates didn’t seem like quite the right description, but he didn’t know if there was a term that wouldn’t freak Ivan out. Roommates with benefits? Or could they graduate to friends with benefits? Liberal application of said benefits might see another upgrade to their status in a few months, and Parker was going to work toward that goal like he’d worked toward no other.