Point Pleasant (33 page)

“What if this is a trick? What if it’s just trying to get you, me, and Tucker—the one’s who know about it—out into the forest so it can just get rid of us?”

“I don’t think he is, Nic. I really don’t.”

Nicholas scrubbed the palms of his hands over his eyes. Once more, Ben was struck by how tired the sheriff appeared.

“I dunno, Ben.”

Ben folded his hands in his lap to keep them still. “Okay. I wouldn’t make you go or anything.”

Nicholas snorted. “You’re not doing this by yourself. Don’t be stupid. Someone’s gotta save your ass again.”

“That’s nice,” Ben said, snickering. “But I seem to recall you running for your life too.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Nicholas replied, rising from the sofa. “I’m going to make you dinner. For real, tonight. There’s nothing to be done right this second. Let’s put this on hold and be two normal people who want to spend a relatively nice evening together.”

“Can I help with anything?” Ben asked, following Nicholas to the kitchen. “Fair warning, though: I can’t cook worth a damn.”

“Nope, just keep me company.”

“You got it, Sheriff.”

Nicholas smiled at the use of his professional title. Ben found it seemed easy to put everything else out of his mind when Nicholas smiled like that. Despite his weary countenance, Nicholas seemed happy, and Ben realized with a start that it was because of
him
.

“I saw the paper this morning,” Nicholas said over his shoulder.

“Ahh.” Ben took a sip of his beer and shook his head. “Quality journalism.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Nicholas said, sighing. “Maybe it won’t make it out of Point Pleasant.”

“Oh well,” Ben shrugged. “It’s done, now.”  

Nicholas turned a sudden, sheepish expression toward Ben. “Will you sign one of my books?”

“Are you serious?”

Nicholas nodded hurriedly. A swell of warm affection rose up in Ben’s chest as if he had just had a long sip of Evelyn Lewis’ gourmet coffee.

“Of course,” Ben said. “You want me to do it now?”

“Sure,” Nicholas replied. “
The Blue Tulip
?”

Ben headed to the shelf in the living room where he had seen his book two nights prior and pulled it out. He fished around in his bag on the stairs for a pen and returned to the kitchen.

“Now the tricky part,” he said, sitting down at the table. “What do I write?”

“You’re the professional,” Nicholas said in a tone that dripped with affectionate sarcasm as he chopped an onion.

Ben regarded Nicholas for a long moment and admired the firm expanse of his back. He opened the book to the title page and used his most careful penmanship to write:

  Nic,

  I wrote this book for you.

  Ben Wisehart, 2012

He pursed his lips and blew a puff of air over the blue ink so that it would not smudge when the book was closed again. He placed
The Blue Tulip
on the table in front of him and straightened.

“Done, but you have to wait and read it later.”

“Tease,” Nicholas said, his tone dry and deadpan.

The sheriff was an excellent cook just as he had boasted. He had changed into jeans and an old blue t-shirt that showcased his youthfulness in a way that the serious tones of his uniform concealed. They ate risotto and drank beer while the Rolling Stones wafted out of the stereo in the living room.

Nicholas laughed at Ben’s account of his first ever book signing in New York in which he knocked over an entire display of books in front of a long line of autograph seekers.

“Smooth move, Wiseass,” Nicholas chided and sipped his second beer.

“Hey, shut up,” Ben said. “It was mortifying.”

Nicholas rolled his eyes with fondness before they slipped into an easy silence.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Nicholas said after a beat. “I needed this.”

“I’m glad you asked.”

“You have to do the dishes, though.”

“Fair enough,” Ben said. He took the empty plates and cutlery to the sink and rolled up his sleeves while he waited for the sink to fill with water.

Nicholas lounged with his feet propped on Ben’s chair. He grabbed his copy of
The Blue Tulip.
The cover fell open, and Ben faced the sink as Nicholas flipped to the title page to search for the inscription. Ben grabbed a sponge by the side of the basin while Nicholas read.

“Ben,” Nicholas said, sounding hushed.  

“Hmm?”

Nicholas did not reply. Ben peered over to find that the sheriff was staring at him with a dumbstruck look on his face. He felt his cheeks burn and focused on the sink and the cumulous mounds of soap bubbles.

Nicholas said nothing for a long moment, so Ben washed the first plate.

“Do you really like Boston, Ben?”

The unexpectedness of the question gave Ben pause, but he kept his attention on the sink. “I guess,” he replied. “I like my apartment. I have some cool people in my life up there. It’s close to New York, so I don’t have to travel far for meetings with my agent and publishers.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Ben saw Nicholas shift in his seat. He washed the second plate and sighed. “I live alone. Sometimes the quiet is too much. I liked it better when Kate was a few blocks away. It’s cold as fuck in the winter, and the snow buries you alive.”

“Would you ever move back home?” Nicholas asked. The words spilled out in a jumbled rush as if he feared he might lose the resolve to ask the question.

“Back to the town with the monster living in the woods?”

“Fuck that, Ben,” Nicholas said, and he stood from the table. “We’re going to take care of that. It’ll be gone. It’ll just be Point Pleasant, the place you’re from. The place you belong.”

“You really mean that, don’t you?”

“You’re damned right I mean it,” Nicholas said as he closed the gap between them and stood at Ben’s right side. “It’s your decision, of course. But I miss you. And seeing you these last few days, even with all the crazy shit, has made me feel more like myself than I’ve felt for a long time. Because
me
happens when we’re
us
. It doesn’t feel like you were gone for that long. It feels easy. Like how it used to be. It feels like maybe we could be
us
again, you know?”

Ben listened, but he kept his focus cast down on his soapy hands while he cleaned the knives and forks. “I know what you mean. It’s been nice. When we haven’t been assholes, I mean.”

Nicholas crossed his arms and leaned against the countertop. “I know this is selfish,” he said after a moment, “but I don’t want to think about you leaving again.”

Ben let the water out of the sink and dried his hands on a dishtowel. He propped himself next to Nicholas so that their shoulders brushed. “Then let’s not think about it,” he said. “I’m not, so you shouldn’t either. I’m in no rush to leave, Nic.”

One corner of Nicholas’ mouth lifted higher than the other as his lips curved upward. Nicholas was a very handsome man, but he was especially beautiful when he smiled.

They stood staring at one another while Mick Jagger sang about the ease of childhood. Nicholas brushed a hand to Ben’s face. Ben closed his eyes to better focus on the sensation.

Nicholas moved to cradle Ben’s head in his hands. The pads of his thumbs were rough as he stroked them across Ben’s cheekbones. He traced the tip of Ben’s nose with his own, and Ben could feel the warmth of Nicholas’ breath just before their lips touched. The caress was soft at first, then firmer and final.

Ben wrapped his arms underneath Nicholas’ and clutched his back. Nicholas’ mouth fell open, and their tongues met in an unhurried exploration.

Everything seemed to spin, and Ben found himself pinned to the same wall Nicholas had kissed him against two nights prior.

One of Nicholas’ hands drifted down from Ben’s face while the other still held the back of his head to cushion it from the wall. The roaming hand journeyed the full length of Ben’s waist before it slipped around and came to rest on the small of his back.

Nicholas canted his hips forward; the gesture was deliberate though tentative, and the evidence of his arousal was firm against Ben’s own growing erection. Ben pitched closer and mirrored the movement without hesitation.

The sheriff, apparently, needed no further encouragement; he grabbed Ben’s ass and brought their forms together in perfect alignment. The sound of Nicholas’ deep, gritty baritone as he groaned was better than any Dylan song Ben had ever heard.

Nicholas’ lips broke away, and he kissed across Ben’s face. Ben opened his eyes and let his head loll as Nicholas’ mouth brushed his right ear. The soft cry that escaped his throat seemed to embolden Nicholas, who nipped at Ben’s earlobe before he took the lower part of it between his teeth. Little shocks of pleasure radiated through Ben when Nicholas sucked on the lobe.

“Nic,” Ben whispered, and he raked his fingers through Nicholas’ hair.

“Ben,” Nicholas replied as he ground his hips into Ben’s in a slow, circular motion.

Ben pulled Nicholas’ face close. Their lips met again, and Ben whimpered into the other man’s mouth.

There was a tug at Ben’s shirtfront, and Nicholas was moving them toward the door. Ben staggered backwards and trusted Nicholas to guide him as their kiss continued.

Ben bit at Nicholas’ lower lip as he steered them down the entry hall. With gentle force, Nicholas pushed Ben against one of the walls. The warmth of his body flared out like flames on a hearth, and Ben absorbed the firmness of Nicholas’ chest and flat stomach before he dropped his right hand further still to cup at the bulge of the sheriff’s crotch.

Nicholas bucked into Ben’s hand in response. His tongue snaked between Ben’s lips to stroke at the roof of his mouth. The tickling, tingling sensation drew a breathy sigh from Ben, and he tightened his hold.

“Fuck,” Nicholas whispered. “Upstairs.
Now
.”

“You’re so demanding, Sheriff,” Ben said as he stepped onto the bottom tread board, and he smiled at the way the position brought him level to Nicholas’ height.

Heat flickered in Nicholas’ gaze, and he drew Ben into another kiss. They made their way up the stairs in an awkward fumble of limbs. Ben climbed rearward while Nicholas navigated them haphazardly to the second floor landing. Ben missed the top step, tripped, and stumbled. Nicholas fell with him, and their legs tangled together.

Undeterred, Nicholas rose on his palms and kissed down Ben’s neck in a frantic, rushed pace. He sucked at the pulse point on Ben’s neck and clamped his teeth down hard enough to bruise.

Ben gasped at the twinge of discomfort and gave a thrust of his hips upward just as Nicholas thrust downward. Their hard cocks collided, and Ben grabbed Nicholas’ ass to keep him close.

“I want you naked in my bed,” Nicholas said, pulling back enough to assess Ben’s reaction.

The words sent a rush of goosebumps across Ben’s skin, and he pushed up against Nicholas once more in silent consent.

Nicholas stood abruptly, and Ben had a moment to appreciate the significant bulge hidden beneath Nicholas’ jeans. He was hauled to his feet by a surprising show of strength from the sheriff.

‘Can’t You Hear Me Knocking’ wafted up the stairs as Nicholas led them into the bedroom and flicked on the light. He faced Ben, and they regarded one another for a beat of silence.

Ben stepped forward first and reached for Nicholas’ t-shirt. His knuckles ghosted across Nicholas’ skin when he pulled up the hem. Nicholas helped to remove the shirt and dropped it to the floor before he untucked Ben’s button-down from his pants. He unbuttoned the front with haste and shoved the garment from Ben’s shoulders.

The brush of their bare chests was enough to harden Ben’s nipples. Nicholas’ teeth latched over the area of Ben’s neck he had sucked while on the landing, and Ben’s cock twitched in response.

The sheriff was swift as he pulled at Ben’s belt until it was unlatched and his pants were unbuttoned and unzipped. He forced them down until they dropped to the floor. His grip was firm when he took hold of Ben’s ass and kneaded the flesh. The coarse texture of his palms sent sparks of pleasure straight to Ben’s groin.

Nicholas leaned away to regard Ben with intent. “I’m clean,” he said, his voice low and steady. “Had blood work done with my physical six months ago. I haven’t been with anyone since then.”

“Me too. I haven’t been with anyone in a while,” Ben confessed. “And I got tested after—” he started, and he thought of Peter for only a fleeting second before Nicholas’ hips gave a jealous jerk forward.

Nicholas lowered himself. He trailed warm kisses down Ben’s chest as he kneeled. His lips lingered around Ben’s navel before he followed the delicate line of hair that disappeared beneath his boxers. A strangled cry escaped Ben’s lips when Nicholas kissed Ben’s hard cock through the fabric.

Gentle digits hooked into the waist of his boxers and tugged until Ben’s cock bobbed free. His breath hitched as Nicholas took hold of his cock and stroked it from head to base. He looked up at Ben and smiled as he stroked. After a moment, Nicholas stole closer, took the tip of Ben’s cock into his mouth, and sucked. Nicholas’ movements were slow and tentative, but Ben arched in response.

Ben buried his fingers into the dark strands of Nicholas’ hair. “Fuck,” he said, and his eyes fell shut.

Nicholas sucked again, and his tongue licked Ben’s slit in a tease.

Ben shuddered forward and clutched at Nicholas’ shoulders. He watched as the mouth that had occupied so many of his adolescent fantasies enveloped him, and a surge of emotion gathered like a storm in the back of his throat. His teenaged self’s imagination had nothing on the reality of the wet heat of Nicholas’ mouth.

With a gentle
pop,
Nicholas pulled away. His blue irises were an unusual shade of navy as he perched on his heels and continued to stroke Ben with his hand while he rose to his feet.

Ben drew Nicholas into a kiss. He could detect the salty taste of his own pre-come on the other man’s lips. Nicholas angled himself against Ben, and the denim of his jeans rubbed the sensitive head of Ben’s well-attended cock.