Of Being Yours[another way 2] (12 page)

“Are you sure—” I started but was interrupted with Will’s pained  “Yes, now….”

It was a now-or-never moment as I moved behind my boyfriend. With one hand on Will’s hip, steadying him, and the other guiding my own cock, I pressed the end against Will’s stretched opening and waited for his body to accept mine.

We both cried out as I slid inside the first few inches. Our room was warm, a little sanctuary from the storm, causing sweat to prick at my neck and spine as I watched the truly phenomenal spectacle of my cock disappearing into the tight heat of Will’s ass.

Will didn’t seem to be satisfied being the submissive partner. His body arched and rolled, his spine in constant, languid sexual motion; I found myself being taken deeper into his body, not by my own force but by the gentle rocking of his hips.

It was sublime.  I ran one of my hands up the length of his spine, my hand flat, feeling every bump of his vertebrae. The other curled around Will’s waist, gently angling our bodies together, not that we seemed to need any help to 
know
each other like this.

I moved my hand from Will’s hip and braced it on the bed, arching over the undulating body and fixing my lips between sharp shoulder blades, sucking the salty skin into my mouth. Under me, he whimpered.

“Is this okay?” I whispered.

“Yes,” Will said. “So good.”

“Good.”

I moved my hand to find Will’s on the bed and cautiously linked our little fingers together. At the window the snow poured down against the glass. Our reflection was distorted by the weather outside—we looked animal, inhuman. I turned away instinctively, but on the opposite wall was a large ornate mirror that reflected our lovemaking in perfect, crystal clear quality.

“Will,” I murmured. “Look.”

Will turned too and chuckled softly when he caught my eyes in the mirror. “Deviant,” he said. I thrust harder; Will screwed his eyes shut and groaned. “Fuck, you feel good.”

My balls slapped repeatedly against his, a disgustingly arousing sound of skin on sweaty skin, enhancing the reality of gorgeous, erotic, loving sex like this. But I wanted more. More Will, more kissing, just more….

I sat back and slid my hand around to Will’s sternum, pulling him up with me so my chest was pressed into his back and we could twist together for more of those delicious kisses. I found too that in this position, I was perfectly placed to wrap my hand around Will’s cock and stroke him in time with what was now a slow, intense grind toward orgasm.

“Close, Jesse,” Will gasped against my lips.

“Me too.”

My hand flew over Will’s cock until the still writhing man in my lap arched and cried out, as erotic and sexual in his orgasm as he had been from the first kiss. I followed him, lost in the bliss and the thudding of my heart that echoed in my cock and balls as they released deep inside the man I was still holding, still pressing close to my body.

I dropped my forehead to Will’s shoulder and screwed my eyes shut as I searched for my bearings.

“Oh my God,” I murmured.

Will laughed softly. “Yeah. Oh yeah.”

“There’s no elegant way of moving from here, is there?”

“Not at all. Close your eyes, for the love of God.”

We fell back onto the bed in a tangle of sticky limbs, kissing languidly and stretching out cramped thighs. My lips found the hollow of his throat. Our fingers tangled together, moving slowly in a vaguely erotic dance.

“It was amazing, Jesse,” Will said, reassuring me with his words as well as his fingertips. “You were amazing.”

I felt the blush in my cheeks and snuggled in further to hide it.

“We’ll have to move soon. We need to get ready for dinner.”

I felt like I could almost reach out and touch the glow around us; despite the cold and the snow, this feeling was like tangible magic in the air between us. Will’s fingers gently played with the spiky strands of my hair, and deep in my chest, I felt a sort of calmness I hadn’t felt in years.

“A few more minutes,” I begged of him.

As usual, he indulged me.

Chapter 8

“D
O
YOU
want to go into Vancouver for dinner on the way home?” Will asked as we loaded up the car with our gear.

“No parking,” I complained. “Too many people. Slushy rain.”

“Good food,” he countered. “Good beer. Good company.”

“Is that all you’ve got?”

“I’ll pay?”

“I’m in,” I said, laughing.

Every time we made a trip up to the mountains, I wished we could stay longer or spend more time up there. It wasn’t that the journey took too long; in reality, it was only a couple of hours’ drive, and we often swapped positions on the way so the other could chill for the rest of the ride. Unfortunately we both had demands on our time these days, and escaping wasn’t as easy as we would have liked.

Still, we kept our boarding gear in the garage, and we had talked about going up again in the springtime to go mountain biking. I didn’t know how much of a good idea that was—boarding wiped me out enough as it was—but Will seemed to think it was a great idea, so I assumed it was on the agenda whether I liked it or not. The exercise kept me fit, anyway.

We had a few hours left in the little bubble of just the two of us until we both needed to be back at work the following morning. I would ache for days yet, and not the sort of ache that I was used to; not an ache from kneeling for him but deep, penetrating pain in my thighs and ass from sliding down a mountain on a piece of fiberboard.

I had no idea how Will seemed to know where to find the good restaurants, but he had a knack for it. After a good-natured argument in the car, we settled on an Irish bar in downtown Vancouver that sold somewhat-traditional homemade Irish food. I doubted that lasagna originated from Dublin, but it appeared on the menu anyway.

It was snowing lightly when we left, a gentle flurry that rarely reached down as far as the city. The light had crept out of the day and dusk hung heavy in the air, as if the clouds had sunk from the sky.

“You wanna drive?” Will asked as we approached the car.

“Don’t mind.” I shrugged.

“Okay. I will. We can swap at the border.”

I nodded and slid into the passenger side, shifting the seat back slightly so I could stretch my legs out and maybe nap a little on the journey. Will tuned the radio to a local station, and as we made our way out of the city and onto the main freeway that would take us down to the US border, I linked my hand with Will’s and closed my eyes.

The sound of the radio woke me, not too much later, I decided, because there was still a little light in the sky.

“Sorry,” Will said. “I was just listening to the weather report. It’s not very nice out there.”

“To say the least,” I said. “Do you want to pull over somewhere for a while?”

Will shook his head. “We’re not far from the border now. I want to get home tonight.”

“Okay.”

We fell silent as the weather reporter predicted that the storm would sweep farther south and that we probably had all the snow and ice to look forward to in the next couple of days. Living on top of the hill in Seattle meant that I wasn’t exactly filled with joy by this news.

“I’ll get the tires checked on the cars in the morning,” I said as the report finished and the station started playing some music. “These were only done a few months ago, but it’s worth checking again, and I can’t remember the last time I did yours—”

“Jesse!”

I didn’t need his voice or the warning it carried. There was a terrible lurch and the car spun… my mind helpfully supplied the words “black ice” in the same voice the weather reporter had used. Then there was a terrible thud, a crunch, and blissful dark.

“M
R
. R
OSS
?”

I groaned, wondered why my lips were so sore and my head was thudding like I’d drunk the bar dry the night before.

“Mr. Ross. You’re in the hospital. Can you open your eyes for me?”

It took several blinks to clear the film of fog from my eyes and to concentrate on a nurse in pale-blue scrubs. She reached over to push my hair back from my forehead in a strangely intimate gesture and smiled at me with big chocolate eyes.

“My name’s Lisette, Mr. Ross. Can you remember what happened?”

“We….” I cleared my throat. “We were driving back from Whistler. Then Will… oh fuck. Will.”

I struggled to sit up, and Lisette calmly pushed me back down. “You shouldn’t try moving yet.”

“William Anderson,” I said, begging her to understand. “He was driving the car. Is he okay?”

“Mr. Anderson is doing just fine. Do you have any next of kin, Mr. Ross?”

“Any… what?”

“The only person listed on your records as next of kin is also in the hospital. Is there anyone we can call for you?”

It took me far too long to understand what she was asking of me. “No,” I said eventually. “All my family live in Georgia. Is Will okay? Can I see him?”

“I’ll find out for you just as soon as we’re done here. I need to check some things to see how you’re doing.”

I learned that I’d fractured several ribs in the crash, one of which had caused some internal bleeding, so I’d been opened up and operated on in the hospital in White Rock. I’d also hit my head on the dash, causing a concussion, which explained the pounding headache.

I’d been unconscious for almost twelve hours.

I
NEVER
cried in front of Will, but when they finally wheeled my bed through into his room, I couldn’t help but choke up. He was pretty bashed up too. I later learned that he’d broken his leg when the car crashed against the barrier on the highway. All I wanted was to crawl out of my bed and into his, but Lisette put a stop to that idea pretty quickly. “Don’t you dare move from that bed,” she said, waving a finger at me.

“He won’t,” Will said.

My throat was thick as I looked over to him. “Are you okay?” I whispered.

“I’ll live.”

“Me too. Will?”

“Yeah?”

“My everything hurts.”

He laughed once, then groaned. “Oh, God, Jesse. I’ve never been so scared before in my entire life.”

“Are you hurt bad?”

“Apart from the leg, I sprained my wrist and got knocked out. How about you?”

“Three broken ribs and a concussion.”

With the beds close together, he could reach over and take my hand. By some fortunate twist of fate, my IV drip had been hooked up to my right hand and Will’s to his left, meaning there was nothing between us that could prevent the beds being flush against each other.

I didn’t realize until his fingertips ran over the soft skin of my wrist that something was missing, until his thumb went to catch a braided piece of thread that had been cut off.

My breath caught in my throat.

His fingers tightened around my wrist, a warning to calm down. I couldn’t help it—there was a tightening in my chest, panic clutching at my heart and making it hard for me to pull enough breath into my lungs.

“Jesse. It’s fine,” he said, but I heard the frantic edge to his own words.

“No, it’s—” I gasped. “Will.”

“Shh,” he said softly. “It doesn’t matter. We’ll get you a new one.”

“It does matter!” I wailed. “I want it back. I need it back.”

A nurse had heard something from our exchange and let himself into the room.

“What’s the problem, guys?” he asked with a forced friendly smile on his face.

“There was a bracelet on Jesse’s wrist when he came in,” Will said, his hand still replacing my collar for the moment. “Do you think you could find out what happened to it?”

“I’ll try,” he said doubtfully. “But if you went into surgery, they would have had to take it off for hygiene purposes.”

“Will,” I whimpered.

“Shh.”

“I’ll ask,” the nurse said and shut the door behind him.

“It’ll be fine,” Will said as soon as the door was closed. “Don’t worry. We’ll get you another one as soon as we’re home.”

I nodded, rubbing my face with my spare hand as my fingers linked between his.