Finding Eden (20 page)

“I’m sure they’ll survive without you,” Danny said, unable to hold back a chuckle at Paul’s mumbling. “Are you going back to bed?”

“Nah, I need a shower,” Paul said, and then turned around, arching an eyebrow at Danny. “Wanna join me?”

“Sure,” Danny said, more than willing to agree to that. “I need one too.”

Danny forgot all irritation and his general disappointment in himself, his cock twitching to life when he thought of Paul wet and naked in the shower. The coffee would be there when he got back. He followed Paul to the bedroom, tugging on the button to his jeans.

“I need to shave,” Paul said, scrubbing both hands over his face tiredly as he stood in front of the bathroom mirror. He blinked at himself, his blue eyes wide and stunned as he studied his reflection. “Jesus, I look like shit.”

Danny stood behind Paul, who leaned in closer to the mirror, studying the dark circles under his eyes. Against his will, he looked at Paul’s back and winced. Three days later, it wasn’t really an improvement. The skin that wasn’t stitched together was still a horrible shade of black and blue, threaded with tinges of green as the bruises started to heal.

Worse, it seemed some of the stitches were pulled open. Dried blood and fresh patches of it had Danny rubbing his thumb against his bottom lip when he realized he had fucked Paul on his back last night. A sickening feeling of dread settled in his stomach, making him feel almost physically ill. “Shit.”

“What?” Paul asked, frowning at Danny in the mirror.

Danny shook his head, turning away to shove his jeans off. Not feeling alert enough to deal with the ramifications of last night, he settled on, “You want me to put some alcohol on your back before we take a shower?”

“Sure, that’s always sexy.”

“Grab the alcohol. We’ll do it in the shower.”

Danny kicked his jeans off. Not waiting around for Paul, he stepped into the shower, shivering from the cold radiating off the ceramic tiles as he tried not to think about what Jason was going to say when he saw Paul’s back.

“It’s almost empty,” Paul said, following Danny into the shower. “Dr. Feelgood did it yesterday.”

“I’ll buy some more today.” Danny took the bottle from Paul, seeing it was only a third full. Knowing he still had the cash issue, he asked, “You got any money?”

“On me?” Paul looked down at his naked body. “No.”

“I mean with you, smartass, here at the house. You had your wallet on you. Is there cash in it?” Danny pushed at Paul’s shoulder until he turned around and put his hands on the shower wall. “I’m out.”

Paul shook his head. “Nope, nothing. But I got like twenty bucks back at the dorm. Christ, my roommate probably thinks I’m dead. I really gotta get out of here.”

“You’re not going anywhere.” Danny opened the bottle of alcohol and dropped the lid to the ground, telling himself he’d pick it up later. “You’re supposed to be in bed. I’ll use force to keep you there if I have to.”

“I’m like a prisoner,” Paul said, though he didn’t really sound upset with the notion. He craned his neck, looking at Danny over his shoulder, his eyes stormy and compelling. “A slave to your pleasure.”

“Whatever.” Danny pushed Paul’s head forward because that look was doing something to him, even if Paul was just being teasing and playful this morning. Wanting to shut him up, he poured the alcohol on his back. Paul jerked, his head falling forward heavily as he let out a low groan. Danny winced in response, realizing just how painful it had to be, especially with some of the larger wounds broken open. “I’m sorry.”

“Mmm, don’t be,” Paul sighed, his voice husky in a way that affected Danny far more effectively than his look had. “Feels good.”

It was right then Danny found out something very unusual about himself. Before this moment he’d never fantasized about hurting someone in a sexual way. The thought of pain, giving or receiving, had never gotten him off. But Danny lived and breathed to get Paul off. He loved hearing the husky hitch to his voice and watching as the wave of lust washed over him, turning him from a responsible, clean-cut college student into an uninhibited, surreally sexual being.

He’d never been with someone who was capable of surrendering themselves so completely to the pulse of desire like Paul did, and his untamed passion was addicting.

Hurting Paul was turning Danny on—intensely.

He was fairly certain he was upset before this little interlude. He had something to be really disappointed in himself about, but it slipped his mind as he finished with the alcohol. He dropped the bottle to the ground and leaned into Paul, not even noticing the scrape of stitches against his bare chest. Danny fisted a hand in Paul’s sandy hair and jerked his head back. He found what he was looking for, the same debauched angel with soft, obedient eyes that promised Danny any pleasure that appealed to him.

The desire crashed over him so strongly his breath hitched as he demanded, “Tell me what you want.”

“Whatever turns you on.” Paul’s voice was a caress that washed over Danny, calling to him like a drug. “I’m yours, remember?”

Danny hadn’t remembered. Hearing it now felt new and was a thousand times more electrifying in the light of day. He leaned down, using his grip on Paul’s hair to kiss him and claim what was his. Paul groaned into his mouth, making it obvious he wanted it as badly as Danny wanted to give it to him. Danny knew right then it was going to take them a very long time to get out of the shower.

* * * * *

“How’d this happen?”

Danny rubbed a thumb against his bottom lip, hesitating. Paul sat straddled over a chair at the kitchen table, his arms folded across the back of it as he let Jason look at his back. Jason, who sat in another chair behind Paul, lifted his head, looking to Danny, making it obvious he expected an answer.

“I might have—” Danny started, wincing over what he was going to have to admit. “Fucked him once…or twice.”

“Or three times,” Paul added, grinning at Danny as he took off his baseball hat, running his fingers through his hair. He put the hat on backward then leaned down to rest his cheek against his forearms. “Maybe four or five. We sorta lost count.”

“Not helping,” Danny said with a glare, and then turned back to Jason. “Can you fix it?”

“He’s been delirious with fever and you spent all day fucking him?” Jason asked, his face showing both shock and disappointment. “Really?”

Paul let out a snort of laughter. “I feel so used.”

“Again,” Danny snapped at Paul. “Not helping.”

“I have no words for this,” Jason said as he stood. “I should tell you to take him to the hospital to fix it. Do you realize how totally irresponsible this is? Did that thought get past the young-stud sex fog in your mind at any point today?”

“Well, yeah.” Danny gave Jason a look. “I’m not stupid. I know it was a mistake.”

“But you still did it,” Jason said blandly. “You knew it was irresponsible and you did it anyway.”

“I’m…sorry,” Danny said slowly, raising his eyebrows, not knowing what exactly Jason was looking for. “Look, I fucked up. I admitted it. I’ve even said sorry, which I
never
do. What do you want from me?”

Jason shook his head. “I’ll fix it, then Paul’s going to lie down and you and I are having a talk.”

“Hey, I can go to football practice tomorrow, right?” Paul asked before Danny could lose his temper, probably doing it on purpose to break up the tension. “I got a game this weekend. I can’t miss practice all week.”

“No, you can’t play football. You’re not playing this weekend. I wrote you a note for a reason,” Jason snapped as he grabbed a bottle of soap out of the box and walked to the sink. “I don’t think either of you are operating in the realm of reality. I seriously think you’ve lost touch.”

“The good news is his fever broke. He’s feeling much better.” Danny gave Jason a wan smile when he turned to glare at him. “Maybe it was the fucking.”

“Yeah, sure,” Jason said dryly, washing his hands with more force than necessary. “That’s it, Doctor Carlow. It had nothing to do with the antibiotics, fucking’s been documented to bring down fevers and fight infections. Good thing I have you around to keep me updated on the latest research. I’d be really lost without it.”

“You’re sort of a smartass,” Danny said with a frown at Jason.

Jason rolled his eyes, not looking too disturbed by Danny’s annoyance. “Are you going to help me?”

“Sure.”

Danny looked back to Paul, whose cheek rested against his forearms. He might be feeling better, but he had the dazed, tired look of someone who had been very sick and was still recovering. Paul hadn’t bothered to shave yet, making him look older and worldly wise, when usually his beauty was in his strangely serene features. Paul’s life showed on his face today, and Danny had the wild need to hide him from it. If Paul wanted an escape, Danny wanted to learn how to give it to him.

“Maybe you can teach me how to do stitches,” Danny said, thinking of this afternoon’s discoveries in regard to pain and the carnal effects it had on both of them. “Could be a handy skill to have. You know, just in case.”

“Why not?” Jason shrugged. “Not like the patient is going to complain about you practicing on him. Sure, let’s teach you how to do stitches. That’s such a fun use of my evening.”

“You again with the sarcasm,” Danny said with another scowl.

“I’m pissed about this,” Jason countered as he leaned into Danny, speaking in a low voice. “You are
not
responsible enough to be his Master. You need to hand him over to someone professionally trained.”

“No,” Paul said in response. “Doesn’t my opinion count? Danny’s my best friend. I’m comfortable with him. We’re fine.”

Jason arched an eyebrow at Danny. “You two are a funeral waiting to happen. Really, you cannot allow Paul to be your guide to BDSM. He has no boundaries, and you’re too bold for your own good. You’ll find yourself in very big trouble with him, I promise.”

“I love him,” Danny whispered, knowing Paul could probably hear him. He admitted it last night anyway. “I wanna be what he needs.”

“That makes it worse,” Jason countered. “You want each other too badly. You’re too well suited. You stop thinking when you’re together. You both just proved that.”

“It won’t happen again,” Danny promised him. “I can be mature. I can be cool under pressure. I’ll prove it.”

Jason looked doubtful. “I think it’s a bad idea. You should at least have a mentor, someone supervising you.”

“Fuck that,” Danny said with a bark of laughter. “I’m not letting someone get their rocks off watching us.”

“Well, I can’t force you, but you should consider listening to me as someone who is older, wiser and has played in the scene for a long time,” Jason said as he walked to the box and pulled a fresh pair of gloves out. He sat down behind Paul, staring at his back with wide eyes as if seeing anew how horrific the injuries were. “Promise me you won’t think of playing football this weekend, Paul. If not for yourself, think of your team. You’ll let them down if you play.”

“Look, man, I’m playing this weekend,” Paul said with a snort of laughter, as if missing the game was ridiculous. “You’re more than welcome to watch me if you don’t believe it.”

* * * * *

“No, no, no, no!”

Danny covered his face, peeking through his fingers as he stood on his feet. The defense was failing Paul completely, a wall of the largest, meanest football muscle the opposing team could get on scholarship bearing down on him. Danny covered his eyes fully when the first linebacker got a hold of him. All he could think about was Paul’s still-healing back.

He hated this sport.

“GO!”

The roar was unanimous, deafening, a wave of energy spreading over the crowd that was impossible to deny. Danny lifted his hands to see Paul had somehow managed to break away from a tackle that should have downed anyone. With the ball still firmly in his grasp, he abandoned passing and was actually making a run for it. It left the other team scrambling. Paul wasn’t known for being a running quarterback.

“Oh my God!” Denise shouted. “He’s going to make a touchdown!”

“RUN!” Melissa screamed next to her. Like everyone else in the crowd they were on their feet, the excitement of the moment pulsing off them. “GO, PAUL!”

“YES!” Danny yelled, forgetting his fury at the defense as he saw Paul sprint across the field. The wave of mean, vicious muscle stayed at his heels, but it seemed as if Paul was just one step too fast for them to catch. The roar of the crowd was deafening, yet Danny could hear his own heartbeat thumping in his ears. He stood there mesmerized, watching Paul run toward the end zone and willing a victory for him with every ounce of his being. The other team finally caught up to him at the edge of the first-yard line, slamming into Paul with such velocity Danny covered his eyes again despite the excitement. Knowing he was probably buried under at least a thousand pounds of muscle, Danny groaned, not even hearing his voice over the crowd. “I hate this game.”

“He did it!” Melissa and Denise shouted together. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

Paul had made the touchdown.

Danny’s knees buckled under the combined weight of Melissa and Denise, who both jumped on him in their excitement.

“He did it?” Danny whispered in amazement, looking down to watch Paul get to his feet in the end zone as if nothing had happened, not even stumbling after what had been a truly painful tackle to watch. Amazingly, the ball was still in his hands as if glued there. “Oh my God. He’s a fucking rock star!” Danny screamed when he realized what Paul accomplished. In what seemed par for the course, Paul did the impossible and made it look effortless. Danny pointed down the field, seeing a sea of Paul’s teammates descend on him. “Take that, Fulton! He doesn’t need your worthless ass!”

“He could so be a pro-player!” Melissa said, her face flushed with excitement. “He’s gonna be rich and famous. You wait and see.”

“Maybe,” Danny said, not for the first time realizing that was a very real possibility. “Wow, that would be awesome for him. Wouldn’t that be awesome?”

“I bet he’d hate it.”