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Authors: Z. A. Maxfield

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BOOK: I Heard Him Exclaim
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When Chandler would have reached down and wrapped a hand around his dick to stroke off, Steve stopped him.

“Do you want me?”

“What do you mean?” Chandler blinked.

Steve felt his cheeks heat. He was nervous as hell. Maybe this was so hard because if being fucked was a rarity for him, he absolutely never,
ever
offered. It had been years since anyone had taken his ass. It was something he only did when he…well, if things were serious on his part. If he’d already given his heart, his ass didn’t seem like such a big deal.

And, oh yeah. Newsflash. Even if
he
hadn’t realized it yet, his body had.

I’ve already given my heart to Chandler.

“Do you want to fuck me?”

Chapter Eleven

Chandler gazed up at Steve. Did he
want
to fuck him? Was that…like
do you want a pain reliever that works?

Duh.

“Yeah. I want to fuck you.” Because even if he liked being Steve’s boy, there was always going to be a part of him that wanted to be Steve’s
man
.

Steve bit his lip. From the faint wash of red staining his cheekbones, Chandler realized these might be uncharted, or at least rarely plied, waters.

“Do you really want it? Or are you just offering because you think you should?”

“I really, really want you.” Steve’s voice sounded hoarse, as if he’d been the one to give that blowjob and not Chandler. “But I think this is the first time I’ve ever offered—in my life.”

Chandler pulled Steve down to sit beside him. “I’m honored.”

Steve shrugged and looked away. Was he embarrassed?

“Don’t you like it?”

“Yeah, I like it. But I usually save it. When I feel someone inside me—” Steve’s lashes lowered, “—I need it to be more than just…casual.”

“What?”

“You heard me. It’s special. Intimate. I don’t go there unless there’s more.”

“I see.” Chandler wrapped his fingers together so Steve wouldn’t see them tremble.

“Could this be…?” Steve brushed a lock of Chandler’s hair behind his ear. “Is it possible that what I’m feeling could be mutual?”

“It’s only been two days.” Chandler swallowed. “Not even two.”

Steve lifted his shoulders and let them fall again. “That didn’t answer my question.”

“Steve…” Chandler expelled the breath he’d been holding. Steve didn’t avoid his eyes. His bright blue gaze was honest and unwavering. Chandler read everything Steve felt in his heart; he seemed willing to lay himself bare—both literally and figuratively—if that was what Chandler wanted.

“I’m not delusional or anything. I know I’m older. I know that I’m a working-class guy with some pretty weird hobbies.”

“You’re fucking Santa Claus.” Chandler gave Steve a playful shove.

“Hey. Don’t knock the Jolly Elf, man. And technically it’s you who’s—”

“You have the biggest heart, Steve. You give everything you have to anyone who needs you.”

“Are you saying that like it’s a bad thing?”

Steve might be stung by Chandler’s words but if he didn’t say them now… “It’s a great thing, but this isn’t like some movie, where Santa meets an unhappy little orphan girl and solves all her problems.”

“Is
that
what you think this is?”

“Your heart is in the right place. But you can’t help Poppy by creating an artificial family for her.”

Steve remained silent.

“I know you want to help. I admire you for it. Really.”

“But?”

“Poppy has a family. They’ll take good care of her.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?” Chandler asked. “I’m fine. I know I’m doing the right thing for her, the thing that’s best.”

“But what do
you
need?”

“I don’t understand…”

“You talk like I’m some kind of do-gooder who saw Poppy and immediately decided that she needed my love, and you’re only about half right—this isn’t about Poppy. What’s between you and me is about
us.
It’s about me seeing a guy who’s basically decent, who’s trying to pitch in for a kid after a tragedy, who’s filled with grief and fear and—maybe—needs something I have to give.”

Chandler drew in a breath. “Well. I don’t really need—”

“You know very well it’s more than that now. You’re hot and smart and really, really good in bed. Just the way you look at me blows my mind. I like knowing that when I turn around you’ll be standing there, ready to laugh at my stupid jokes, ready to smile in that secret way you have. That makes me happy. And you seem to want me as much as I want you… Don’t make me explain it. If you don’t feel it, then…”

“I feel it.” Chandler couldn’t help it; that much was true. “But it isn’t that simple.”

“I think it might be,” Steve said. “I want to be the guy, Chandler. I’ve had a tough year and I don’t beat around the bush anymore.”

“I guess not.”

“I want to be
your
guy.”

Chandler thought that through. “What about Poppy?”

“Don’t get me wrong, Poppy is great. I really like her.”

“Me too.”

“I’d love to be part of her family. I’d jump on that and feel lucky to have the chance.”

“I think you already
are
part of her family.” Chandler inched his hand over and captured Steve’s. “She likes you a lot.”

Steve smiled at that. “But I’m asking you…just
you.
Do you want me?”

“Hell yes, I want you.” Chandler tilted his head so he could fit his mouth to Steve’s. They shared a languid kiss, their breaths mingling while they took their time lighting a fire, a slow burn that began in Chandler’s heart. When Steve put his hand on Chandler’s hard cock through his jock, sensation rippled over him in a shockwave of pure pleasure…


Gods
. You feel so fucking good.”

Steve’s eyelashes tickled Chandler’s cheek. “Then come here and fill me up.”

***

If Steve gave any thought at all to being older, to being just a little gray, a little less flexible, and maybe a little uncertain about taking a man’s cock after years of being in the driver’s seat, Chandler put him perfectly, gloriously at ease. Chandler took the time to arouse him to an almost ecstasy of anticipation, skimming his body with soft hands, plucking and nibbling at his nipples. Marking the skin of his abs on the way down his treasure trail.

Chandler’s body slid over his—all crisp hair and sweat and arousal. Hot breath puffed over Steve’s skin while the rasp of his unshaven face teased between Steve’s legs. Wherever Chandler roamed he left sensitized nerve endings and chaotic longing until every molecule of Steve’s body was waiting, eager for more.

Steve’s cock throbbed in Chandler’s hand, but he merely held it out of the way, kissing every inch of skin around it.

“Chandler.” Steve jumped when Chandler cupped his balls. “Are you testing me or something?”

“No way.” Steve circled and tapped Steve’s hole with a dry finger, smoothing the delicate skin. “Lube?”

“Definitely.” Steve leaned over and pulled lube and condoms from the bedside table.

Chandler held his hand out. “Can you?”

“Sure.” Steve opened the bottle and poured some of the slick liquid onto Chandler’s fingers. After that he relaxed his legs and let Chandler have him.

Chandler’s touch was featherlight at first. Gentle and careful, he slipped a finger inside easily, then added another to stretch him and—Steve was sure—to remind him why he wanted this so much. A third finger curved and swept over Steve’s sweet spot, electric and stunning, just right. Those fingers began pumping in and out of him while he watched Chandler—engrossed, concentrating, his mouth slack with passion, his eyes gone darker, a flush staining his cheeks and chest.

He brushed over Steve’s prostate again, and soon Steve was arching for him, meeting his fingers as they pushed inside him, and he wondered how long it would be before he could feel Chandler’s dick in their place. He picked up a condom, not necessarily to hurry things along, but Chandler’s fingers stilled, deliberately stroked his prostate and then pulled out.

Chandler knelt and Steve rolled the condom down his rigid length. He’d shown remarkable restraint but now his limbs were shaking with the force of his need.

For Steve, there was nothing like the moment before being fucked. He got chills when he watched Chandler pump his dick with his lubed hand a couple of times in preparation. A modicum of fear only heightened his pleasure. He gazed up at Chandler’s face—at his sweet smile and honest eyes—and found everything he needed
right there.

“Yes,” Steve hissed and clasped Chandler’s hand, linking their fingers together. “Go.”

“Going to make you feel good.” Chandler poised his cock at Steve’s entrance and pushed in. “Going to make you soar.”

Steve took a kiss as Chandler buried his cock. It burned—
hell yes,
it burned—but it was bearable, it throbbed and felt like fire until Steve felt the slap of Chandler’s balls against his butt.

***

“So fucking tight.” Chandler groaned, trying to wait until Steve grew accustomed to the stretch, holding on to his control by millimeters. “Gods, Steve, I just wanna…”

“Move, boy,” Steve growled. “Take me the way you want me.”

Chandler rocked his hips back, then surged forward while he tried to get some traction with his feet. Steve’s legs tangled with his and he’d been right, all that crisp hair struck little sensations—sparklike and electric, as their legs slid against one another.

“Gods.”
Chandler shuddered all over. Steve felt like magic, like fucking a giant, he was so long and built and—wow,
right then,
when it was entirely too late, he wondered how it might have been to bend Steve over the kitchen table or the bathroom sink, or maybe even the seat of a motorcycle, and fuck the living hell out of him from behind.

He plunged his cock into Steve’s willing body over and over, watching his face carefully for cues. Was he all right? Did it burn? Was there enough lube? Did he need more friction? Cues.

Clues
.

Of which there were none.

Absolutely none at all.

“All right?”

“Uhn,” Steve grunted, then tipped his head back and drew in some short, panting breaths.

Chandler asked again, even as he gripped Steve’s ass in one hand and snapped his hips so hard that for a minute he saw stars… “You okay?”

“Uhn…” Steve hips met his with every stroke, arch and thrust. Until their skin slapped together like thunder, like the final lap at Indy
and the crowd goes wild
.

That big strong body took him to a place he’d never been before and he liked it. He got lost, climbed, rose and fell. It allowed him the freedom to go as hard as he wanted, and all that strength, all that muscle and sinew and bone,
pushed back.
Chandler found he liked it that way.

Gods,
he liked it a whole hell of a lot.

Chandler got a brief grip on his sanity. “Tell me you’re okay or I will fucking. Kill. You. Steve.” He used his cock to punctuate that without thinking, deep, hard thrusts that made Steve groan…

“I…” Steve’s eyes rolled back in his head.

“What?” Chandler inched his way forward again, angling to either hit Steve’s sweet spot or pierce his heart like an hors d’oeuvre.
“What?”

“Oh.”
Steve’s head fell back and his cock spattered, sticky and hot, between them.

In the aftermath of that, Chandler drove into that tightly clenching heat, short, sharp strokes that lasted forever—and were over way too soon—when he hurled into his own release.

It took a while for him to catch his breath. By that time he’d carefully pulled himself out of Steve’s ass and discarded the used condom. He and Steve both lay on their backs, staring up at the ceiling. Chandler’s mouth was dry and his cock felt like he’d gotten it caught an old-fashioned clothes wringer.

But in a very, very good way.

“Are you okay?” he managed, finally, when his heart rate evened out.

“Sure.” Steve turned toward him, pillowing his head on his arm. “Didn’t that seem okay?”

Understatement of the year.

“Yeah. Of course. Awesome. But I asked if
you
were all right.”

“Chandler.”

“Hmm?”

“I guess I don’t talk much when I have a cock up my ass. But I think I’d tell you if you hurt me.”

Steve reached for his hand while he digested this. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Steve said firmly, drawing Chandler into his arms. “Best ever, boy. You rock my fucking world.”

After a while, Chandler whispered. “I want to stay here with you.”

He felt Steve smile against his skin. “Me too. Now what?”

“I don’t know,” Chandler admitted. “I just…don’t know.”

Chapter Twelve

Steve lay awake long after the sun set, patting a sleeping Chandler in one hand and holding his Zippo lighter in the other. He’d watched through the window when the Christmas lights, which were hooked up to a timer, went on at dusk. He’d run away—from his family, from his friends, from Christmas—yet there he was, smack in the middle of another Adam’s Family Holiday anyway.

Life was such an unpredictable damned thing. If he’d left five minutes earlier, had one or two fewer cups of coffee, driven past that rest stop, ignored the open hood of Chandler’s car, none of this would have happened.

It had to mean something that it
had
happened, right? It had to mean something that when he’d seen Chandler, he’d stopped to help him rather than ignore his plight and drive off, assuming he had an auto-club card.

He thumbed the lid of his Zippo so it clicked open and shut in his hand. Apparently Poppy came from a family of deep sleepers, because Chandler didn’t stir. Steve had been thinking—when he wasn’t simply lost in stroking his hand over Chandler’s sleeping body—about what it would take to make it work between them. About what he’d be willing to give up, about what Chandler might consider sacrificing so they could be together. That’s when he realized he didn’t know much about Chandler at all. He had a moment’s pause when it occurred to him that he didn’t even know what Chandler did for a living.

Steve brushed his thumb over Chandler’s soft lips, causing him to smile in his sleep. He figured he could rule out fixing cars and making pancakes.

Chandler had said something about having built a life he liked and not wanting to change it for Poppy. Was that true? Or was that fear talking? Because from what Steve could tell,
a lot
of what was driving Chandler was fear. Did he like his job? Was he a member of a tight-knit group of friends? Would he consider a long-distance relationship? Would he consider relocating or would he expect Steve to do that? Would he nix the idea entirely?

On the other hand, Steve knew he was pretty set in his ways. His business depended on the goodwill and word-of-mouth advertising of his clients. And they weren’t likely to pass his number along to strangers in Poway. Plus, his family was crazy but they were his. Where else could he live and have that? Where else could he be there for them at a moment’s notice, as they were there for him?

That always seemed like a good thing, but now he wasn’t so sure. It had to be daunting for Chandler, who probably figured that he’d end up with a nice guy, quiet evenings, kids later, if ever. That was what he’d imagined at his age.

And there was the age thing too…

Steve pulled his arm out from beneath Chandler’s head and slid from the bed. He followed up a quick trip to the bathroom with a foray to the kitchen for food. His family was probably still engaged in the annual Christmas Bacchanalia, and he hoped that Poppy was having a good time. He didn’t know if sidetracking her with a huge diversion was appropriate, but he had enjoyed seeing her smiles and hearing the sound of her laughter.

Steve found a cup of vanilla yogurt in his refrigerator and topped it with a handful of low-fat granola. He’d just sat down on a stool in the counter when he heard Chandler’s voice behind him.

“It got cold and I woke up.”

“I’m sorry, I should have covered you better.” Wordlessly, he offered his yogurt to Chandler.

Chandler shook his head. He stood behind Steve and wrapped his arms around him. “I think I missed your skin.”

“I can bring it back to bed if you like.”

Chandler flopped his head down to rest his cheek against Steve’s back. “This is crazy, isn’t it? Meeting you like that, falling for you, wanting to be near you as much as I do. That’s not normal, is it?”

“Christmas does seem to put things on hyperdrive. Maybe you won’t feel this way next week. Tomorrow even.”

“What about you?”

“I’m pretty used to trusting my gut.”

“And what does your gut say?”

Steve put his food down and swiveled around on the stool until he faced Chandler, who stepped between his knees and pressed in for a hug. “It says trust yourself to do what’s right. Trust your instinct.”

“Platitudes?” Chandler’s lower lip pushed out in a delightfully childlike pout. “I didn’t expect—”

“No, listen. I met you and I didn’t expect to fall for you but clearly—” Steve swallowed, “—very clearly I have. So now I have to say what’s on my mind. I have to take the chance you feel the same way. There’s this clock in my head now—
ticktock ticktock
—that tells me not to squander my time. Not to waste one second that I can be spending loving the people I—”

Chandler cupped his face and kissed him, a thoroughly deep, delightful, heady kiss that seemed to go on and on until finally he broke away because he had to breathe. “Me too. You know? I waved goodbye to my brother and his wife when they pulled out of my parents’ driveway. Just…
bye.
I never dreamed there would be so much I’d want to say. If I’d known it was the last time…”

“This is crazy. I don’t even know you, man. What do you do for a living?”

“Me? I sell advertising in a local newspaper.”

“Really? You’re a salesman?”

“Yeah.”

“So…conceivably, you could sell…I don’t know. Anything?” Steve’s heart beat fast. “I mean, you could get a job selling things anywhere, right?”

“I guess so. It’s a pretty tough economy. I doubt I could sell something people didn’t need.”

“And what about where you live. You said you have an apartment? Are you planning to live in your brother’s house?”

At this Chandler shut down. Steve saw how painful the subject was for him. “I don’t even want to
visit
my brother’s house. I’ll have to go there eventually. Poppy needs her clothes and toys. I’ll have to pack and store all her parents’ things for when she’s older, but I don’t want to live there, no.”

“I could help you with all of that, my business is slow this time of year. I could help you find your balance, and then maybe once you know where you stand, you’d consider dating me?”

“What about Poppy?”

“What about her? Shouldn’t you give yourself a chance with Poppy? You can’t run from responsibility you know is yours. I’m not telling you anything you don’t know.”

“You’ve got it all figured out?”

Steve wondered if Chandler even realized he was brushing his lips back and forth over the bristly skin of his neck. This was the most relaxed Steve had ever seen him. “Not a bit of it.”

“I want to be with you, like this. That’s what I want.”

“Yeah?”

“But if I try to have it all, if I want to date, to work, have a life
and
take care of Poppy—”

“You wouldn’t be the only single dad out there. You wouldn’t even be the only single gay dad. We’ll take it real slow, Chandler. One thing at a time, see how we feel…”

“But if I tell people I’ve just met you and I want to see where this leads, they’ll think I’m crazy. People will call me irresponsible and say that I’m not doing what’s best for Poppy.”

“You worry a lot about what people will say. Is anyone planning to fight you for custody?”

“No. There’s no one else except me and my folks. My sister, but she wouldn’t fight me. Poppy’s mother’s family—what’s left of it—is in France. Her parents are dead, she was an only child and she wasn’t close with anyone else there. She liked us. She said it was the first time she’d had family in a long time.”

“Then why worry about what others will say?” Steve held up his hand so Chandler wouldn’t interrupt. “I’m not just saying this because I want you. You need to be sure about where you stand. But raising a kid doesn’t mean you can’t have relationships. It requires more careful screening, sure, but—”

Chandler bumped him with his shoulder. “I could hardly do better than Santa Claus.”

At this, Steve laughed. “You have no idea how many people think I’m a total perv for liking that so much.”

“People have filthy minds.”

“They do indeed.” Steve sobered. He’d certainly seen that side of people over the years. “There will always be people who think the worst.”

“I know.” Chandler sat on the stool next to Steve’s. “I get what you’re saying.”

“I guess my point is, where is your heart? What does it tell you? Poppy needs you. Your brother and sister-in-law trusted you.”

Tears sparkled on Chandler’s lashes. “What if I’m not good enough? What if I fuck up?”

Steve sighed. “I wish my mom was here. She is so much better at this. We’ll talk to her later, all right? But right now let me tell you that she’d say you
will
fuck up…”

“Huh?”

“She’d say it’s a foregone conclusion that at some point you will really make some dreadful parenting mistakes. She talked about shit like that when Dave got his girlfriend pregnant, and she’s said something along those lines to every one of them since.”

“That’s…not exactly a ringing endorsement for parenthood.”

“No.” Steve got up and got two beers from the fridge. “But as you can see, it hasn’t kept our family from growing at an almost alarming rate.”

“No sir, it hasn’t done that. Let me.” Chandler got up and took the beers, opening them with Steve’s wall-mounted opener.

“Little things amuse him so.” Steve rolled his eyes.

Chandler grabbed hold of Steve’s ass. “And big things.”

“Hey, that’s my ass you’re calling big.”

“Nuh-uh, I wasn’t. You’re my new
big thing.
” He took a swig of his beer. “Look at you, so tall…”

Steve wrapped his arms around Chandler. “Like that, do you?”

“I like everything about you.”

“Me too.” Steve reddened. “About you, I mean.”

“Good thing that car broke down,” Chandler barely whispered. “I think you might have saved me from more than just a night in the auto repair shop, Steve.”

The way Chandler looked at Steve made him breathless. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah.”

“You think we could make it work?”

“I’ll have to consult my gut, Steve.” Chandler took another sip of his beer and gave it some thought, during which Steve waited in an agony of uncertainty. “My gut says hell yes.”

Steve’s heart slammed against his rib cage. Chandler smiled his secret smile and Steve’s cock responded accordingly. “And what does your gut say about me, personally?”

Chandler smiled. “The same thing it said about your car when I first saw it. Get in, shut up and hang on. You’re in for the ride of your life.”

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