Loving Bailey (8 page)

"I wasn't thinking clearly yesterday,"
Ashton interrupted. "Please, I want this, want you."

"Seriously, we can still wait until I move
in, christen the new living arrangement." Despite his hesitant
words, Bailey popped the buttons on his 501's, pushing down the
denim to reveal clinging black briefs that lovingly outlined his
thick erection.

Ashton reached for the lotion bottle and
poured some on his fingers, watching Bailey strip eagerly. He
slicked his cock with the sandalwood lotion, groaning as it pulsed
in his grip. "No. I don't want to wait, I never really wanted to
wait. I just thought I should." He tightened his grip and stroked
himself a few times, then slid slick fingers down his perineum to
probe his own hole.

"I know I gave you a hard time, but waiting
seemed to imbue the act with a …I don't know… meaning."

Ashton paused, one slick finger pressed
against his opening, to consider Bailey's words. "Yeah, I guess.
Kind of like a wedding night. Tell you what…we'll save
that
for Saturday, but until then, we can enjoy each other this
way."

Fiery heat lit the depths of blue eyes, and
the temperature between them seemed to soar. Apparently Bailey had
been controlling his reactions after all. Naked, Bailey stepped
between Ashton's spread thighs again. He made short work of donning
the condom then sent the empty packet spinning to the floor.

Ashton leaned back on his elbows, pressing
his chin to his chest so he could see down the length of his body.
Strong work roughened hands spread him farther. Lean hips nestled
close. Bailey's latex covered cock glistened with lotion. He
stroked himself a few times then tapped it against Ashton's
hole.

"You've done this before, right?" A moment
of doubt crept into his mind. Bailey might think he was worldly,
but an aura of innocence clung to him that his brief period of
debauchery and wild living had done nothing to erase.

"Yes, of course." His cheeks flushed a
little darker. "Not very often, but some."

"Okay. Just…go slow. I haven't done this for
a long time."

Neat white teeth sank into a plump lower lip
and Ashton sucked in a breath. The pressure at his hole grew,
became steady and sure. He forced himself to relax, to breathe and
let it happen. Focusing on Bailey's face provided a sweet
distraction from the burn.

Bailey's brows drew together in a deep frown
of concentration. Sweat beaded on his forehead and trickled into
his eyes. Ashton watched his lover's face, enjoying every minute
expression as he made slow progress. Suddenly, the muscle loosened
and the thick head slipped inside.

Hissing a sharp breath at the flash of pain,
Ashton raised one hand and wiped Bailey's brow. "Hold still," he
murmured. "Just a second. I need to get used to it."

Bailey nodded shortly; the muscles in his
arms trembled, his belly rippled. His chest heaved with effort as
he dragged deep calming breaths into his lungs. "Ash…it feels so
good, so tight and hot."

Ah… "Okay. Go ahead, a little more." He
watched the thick length sliding in, felt the burn as his tissues
stretched and made room. "That's right. Feels good." He lifted his
leg and wrapped it around Bailey's waist, pulling the young man in
faster. "Oh, yeah."

Muscles in his arms bulging, Bailey groaned.
He eased forward at a steady pace until his entire length was
seated in Ashton's tight hole. "Oh God… It's…"

"Now fuck me," Ashton whispered, clenching
his buttocks to tighten the passage around Bailey's cock. He wanted
to see Bailey driven wild by the sensations that ripped through
him, just as feelings so intense he thought he would never find
himself again swamped Ashton.

Ashton watched the first few thrusts in
fascination, but soon let his shoulders fall back against the
desktop to regain use of his hands. He touched everything he could,
Bailey's flushed chest, the taut nubs of his nipples, the ridged
rippling abdomen.

When the pleasure grew too much, he wrapped
a hand around his cock and stroked himself in time to Bailey's
thrusts. Their grunts and moans intermingled in the close confines
of the office. The scents of sweat and sex, and the faint
underlying earthy aroma of roofing tar made his head spin.

"I'm going…" His voice trailed away on
another moan as a thrust brushed his prostate. "Oh, yeah." His cock
seemed to swell impossibly bigger, stretching the skin, sensitizing
him until every stroke seemed to sear his palm. His balls drew up
tight and hard, his thighs strained as he worked himself
furiously.

Bailey cried out, a long wordless sound as
he froze, buried deep. Ashton swore he could feel each pulse of cum
in his sensitive passage. Warmth spurted from his cock in long
sticky streams as he convulsed in ecstasy.

"Oh, yeah!" He groaned, letting his head
fall back to the desk with a soft thump. He dragged in deep
breaths, listened to Bailey struggle to control his own
breathing.

His legs banged against the desk as Bailey
released him. "Wow. That was…" He leaned over, framing Ashton's
face with his palms. "You know I love you right? This isn't at all
like with Eden. I love you and I want to be with you forever."

"I love you. Forever might just be long
enough to show you how much."

Epilogue

Nervous, Bailey squinted at the roasting
chicken in the oven. It looked all right, the room smelled
fabulous, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd forgotten
something.

"Relax." Ashton slid an arm around Bailey's
waist and tugged him backward to rest against his chest. "It's just
a little dinner with your father, his boyfriend, and your brother.
They aren't expecting gourmet food."

"Good." He twisted about in Ashton's arms
and pressed a kiss to his lover's cheek. "Because they aren't
getting it. A roasted chicken, sage and cranberry dressing, mashed
potatoes and gravy…all just basic Sunday dinner fare."

Ashton's brow quirked up in surprise.
"That's kind of an old-fashioned carb-laden meal for us. What
brings this mood on?"

Feeling his cheeks burn, Bailey ducked his
head then raised it to look out into the backyard over Ashton's
shoulder. "I don't know, I just had this…flashback, throw back
whatever you want to call it to a traditional family dinner."

"This what your dad fed you guys on
Sunday?"

"More like on Thanksgiving." Bailey reviewed
the menu in his head and groaned. "Exactly like Thanksgiving when
you substitute a turkey for the chicken. What the hell was I
thinking? They're going to be comatose with the weight of all that
food and hang out in lethargic lumps on our sofa for hours."

Ashton laughed, the soft, slightly husky
sound that sent shivers down Bailey's spine. "Thanksgiving, huh?
Maybe you were feeling grateful?"

"If I am, it's because I'm thankful to be
here with you, not because my father has deigned to grace our home
with his presence."

"There's no need to be belligerent, Bailey.
He's your father, he's got a right to feel protective."

"And you're mine, so I have the right to
feel protective of you. If he acts like he did at the party, then
I'm throwing him out."

Ashton hugged him tighter and then pushed
him gently away. "I appreciate the thought, but I don't want to
make waves between you and your father."

Indignation sparked. "Hey! He thought you
were
old
!"

A wry grimace crossed Ashton's face and he
ran a lean hand through the silvered hair at his temple. "It's the
prematurely graying hair. He had a perfect right to think our age
difference was decades if you hadn't already discussed it with
him."

Bailey turned back to the stove and bent
over to peer at the roasting chicken again in order to hide his
grin. "Cradle robber." The prompt swat to his ass left him
chuckling and rubbing his posterior.

"Hey! I remember it more of the other way
around…you know, you making eyes at me, and sighing
languishingly…"

"What? I did not!"

He spun around again just as the doorbell
pealed. Ashton stepped back and waved him toward the door with a
sexy little grin. "That would be our guests. What can I do in here
to make this evening better for you?"

Panic rushed in and Bailey felt his
confidence slip. "I…"

Ashton tenderly cupped his jaw and stared
into his eyes. "It's going to be fine. They love you, you love
them, and I love you. It's just all of us getting to know each
other as a family and it would be good for you to answer the
door."

Bailey nodded and headed to the front of the
house. The oven timer went off and he called out over his shoulder
as he opened the door, "Take that out and let it rest on the
counter!"

"Hi, Dad." He gazed at his father, stalwart
strong, and sober, his arm wrapped around the trim waist of his
young lover, Eden. "Eden, I'm so glad you came." He glanced over
Eden's shoulder. "Where's Shane?"

"Your dad thought it would be best if it was
just us this time."

"I have some things I need to say, and …"
Hearing his dad sound so hesitant and uncertain eased a bit of
Bailey's own turmoil. It would be okay. They had a lifetime of
supporting each other, and while this may not be exactly like
taking saxophone lessons when he was ten, it would require the same
adjustments on the part of his family.

"No need, Dad. I get it. Thanks for coming."
Impulsively he hugged Drew, whose arms tightened around him briefly
then slowly loosened.

"I want what's best for you, Bailey. I
always have, and sometimes, I forget that what's best for an adult
son is to let him make his own choices and support him in his
decisions whether I believe in them or not."

Bailey caught Ashton's cynically lifted brow
as his lover hovered in the doorway to the kitchen. He let his own
smile show. "Um…Dad? If that's your idea of being diplomatic, it
falls a little short of goal."

"You may not believe that your son is making
the right choice in choosing to be with me, Mr. Harris, but I do
believe in him, and in love, and in us."

"You're taking what he said the wrong way,"
Eden intervened smoothly.

"I don't think I am, but time will provide
all the proof necessary." Bailey found himself dragged into the
kitchen and the door shut firmly behind them. Ashton kissed him
hard, dragging him tight against his body, shaking slightly.

It wasn't until he broke free of the kiss
that Bailey realized he wasn't shaking with anger, but with
laughter. "What's so damn funny?" He cleared his throat, trying to
erase the huskiness of sex from his voice.

"I'm sorry. I didn't intend to start world
war three in the living room, but… Um… Have you roasted a chicken
before?"

"Not a whole bird, no. Why?" He eyed the
golden crispy bird nestled on a white porcelain platter, surrounded
by baby glazed carrots and orange segments. "It looks good. What's
wrong?" Pushing past Ashton, he approached the bird.

Ash grabbed his arm and tried to hold him
back, but Bailey shook him off. "Maybe we should go out for sushi
instead. I’m really in the mood for some good California rolls,"
Ashton said.

"Ash, I spent all afternoon making this
dinner! It looks and smells great. Why the hell would I want to go
eat sushi instead?"

Ash's bright smile faded and he cast a
cautious glance at the closed door to the living room. Eden and
Drew's voices were an indistinct hum on the other side of the door,
but Bailey knew his dad well enough to know that if he became
impatient, he'd have no qualms about entering the kitchen to see
what the delay was.

"Okay. I know. You've been trying very hard
to make a perfect meal to show your father you're ready to be on
your own. But… Look." He dragged in a deep breath and began again.
"Can we just chalk this up to me being a jerk and take them out for
dinner?"

Narrowing his eyes, Bailey glared at his
lover. "No." He prodded the chicken, sniffed it cautiously. Had he
over seasoned it? What was he missing? "Tell me!" He demanded
impatiently.

A faint touch of white in the sink caught
his eye and he tipped his head, eyes widening in disbelief. The
white plastic bag of guts lay in the sink gently steaming. Oh fuck.
"I forgot to take the bag out."

"I’m sorry." Ashton caught hold of him
again, pressing a soothing kiss to his cheek as panic rose, choking
him.

"I…"

"Does it matter? I wasn't sure if eating the
chicken after cooking that thing…"

"It's plastic," Bailey muttered. "It's
toxic."

"Are you sure? It doesn't really look melted
or anything…"

"Plastic!" he shouted. He forced himself to
calm down as he noticed the startled expression on Ashton's face.
"It's not safe to eat. I can't take a chance on that."

"I thought you'd say that, so… sushi?"

"My dad and Eden are going to laugh." At
first the idea made him feel like an idiot, childish and immature,
then he remembered the early days of his childhood, when his
construction worker father had struggled to learn to provide meals
for his sons. They'd sat down to mushy pasta and tough meat more
than once while his father figured out the chemistry of the
kitchen.

"I'll take the blame. There's no need for
them to know that anything went wrong. This was important to
you."

"There's no need. My dad knows all about
kitchen disasters." Bailey grabbed plastic containers and shoved
them at Ashton. "Get the green beans packed up and in the fridge.
I'll do the potatoes." They worked in companionable harmony, for
maybe five minutes, salvaging the undamaged portions of the meal.
Once in a while his dad or Eden's voice drifted into the room, and
he met Ashton's gaze with a smile of pure pleasure.

Closing the refrigerator door on the last of
the plastic containers, Bailey pushed the pan of chicken to the
back of the counter. They could take care of that mess later.