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Authors: Darien Cox

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BOOK: Victim of Love
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I chuckled. “I want to go to bed with you again, trust me,” I said. “But I’m doing everything I can to hold back so I don’t fall for you too hard. You can’t ask me to play happy couple if I’m never going to see you again, that’s not fair to me.”

He nodded. “You’re right. I’m sorry. That was selfish of me. I’m sorry.”

I shrugged. “So? Can we just...” I trailed a finger down his bare chest. “Have fun?”

He sighed, and rested his forehead against mine. “Until I met you, I didn’t think I was going to make it through this whole week.” He stepped back, then turned and walked toward the seawall.

I followed him over, and sat beside him. “Why? What’s so bad about visiting with Laurie? I can tell you love her.”

He looked at me, his eyes sad in the moonlight. “You asked me in the antique shop why I got so drunk that first night on the beach. Here’s why. Seeing my sister is always difficult for me. Because I do love her. She’s the only one I couldn’t cut out of my life.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “She wouldn’t let
me
go. But she represents who I used to be. And every time I visit with her, I see that look in her eyes. She wants her brother back. She wants me to be who I was before, not who I am now. It’s painful for me, because I’m not that person anymore. I can’t be.”

I nodded. “Okay. I appreciate you explaining at least that much to me. But how do I figure into it?”

“That sad look in Laurie’s eyes is usually too much for me to bear, brings back bad memories. But when you came to my room to yell at me about Townsend, I saw something in
your
eyes. I could tell you wanted me.
Really
wanted me, in a totally pure way. You didn’t care who I was or where I’d been. You just wanted
me
. This. Now.”

I raised my eyebrows. “I’m not going to deny that.”

He smiled. “Seeing that look in your eyes made it easier. And I thought, maybe this time I can handle it. If I can just focus on him, I can get through this vacation, and for once, not disappoint my little sister by freaking out and taking off.” He hung his head. “But then tonight that look in your eyes changed. The desire had turned into caution and uncertainty. It just threw me off. I wanted to see that purity in your expression again. That unfettered want. So I could pretend for a little while that I’m someone who could be with someone like you. For real.”

“Look at me,” I said.

He lifted his head and met my eyes.

“My desire is still there, believe me. But why can’t you just be yourself, Beck? No pretending. Just be real with me. I can take it.”

“I stopped being real a long time ago,” he said. “And now I can’t go back. All I can offer you is the fantasy. But I promise it will be a
good
fantasy.”

I hated when Kamal was right. Yes, there was definitely something
off
about Beck Turner. I knew he’d suffered a loss, but shit, so had I, so had a lot of people. I’d had pain in my life, but I’d dealt with it.

Laurie’s words came back to me.
Now he’s like a completely different person.

“What does that even mean, Beck? Of course you’re real. I know you’re real.” I placed my palm on his chest. “I can feel you.”

Slowly, he shook his head. For a fraction of a second I saw his lip tremble, but then his jaw stiffened and his eyes went hard, expression cool and blank like a statue. “I’m not real. I’m not a real person, Olsen. I can’t be.”

I stared at him for a long time. “Jesus. What happened to you?”

Beck held my gaze, but said nothing.

“What happened to you?” I repeated more softly. I reached for him but he pulled back and wouldn’t let me touch him.

“I’m sorry I put this on you.” He shook his head, then chuckled. “
And
, I sure fucked this up.” He hopped off the seawall onto the sand. “I’m sorry if I freaked you out. I’m really sorry, Olsen.”

He moved off down the beach and headed for the bungalow again. I hopped off the seawall as well, but this time I didn’t go after him. I just stood there and watched him go. I sighed, then kicked the sand. “Damn it.”

What
in the hell had just happened? And here I thought I was supposed to be the complicated one.

I looked up and watched Beck disappear up the path through the dunes. I ached. The worst part about all of this was I still wanted him, desperately. He made me horny as hell, horny way down deep. He’d lit a mad fire inside my boring, tepid little heart, and it still demanded more fuel. It was demanding enough to make me want to go against my nature.

“No.” I shook my head. “No way. He can’t do this now. What the
fuck?

I felt affronted that he’d spent the entire night getting me all woozy and aroused, only to walk away because of his personal demons. His demons hadn’t had any qualms about screwing my brains out earlier in the day. I craved his flesh so badly it made my mouth water. He’d given me a taste of something better than I’d ever had, and now I was ravenous for it. This wasn’t something a cold shower could fix. I didn’t merely need an orgasm. I needed Beck to give me that orgasm, the way he’d done already, with his eyes and his words and his soft breath and the scent of his body all over me.

But apparently a repeat performance now came with conditions. Very bizarre conditions. Could I give Beck what he wanted? His
vacation fantasy?
Would it really do me that much harm to give myself over to him fully in the short time we had left? Could I
pretend?

I imagined myself going back to work next week, meeting with doctors, doing rounds with Kamal, a blur of serum tests and centrifuges and sodium citrate. Watching the clock tick on the wall, waiting to go home and sit on my sofa watching the SyFy channel. Would I regret then that I hadn’t taken Beck up on his offer? And if I did take him up on it now, would I later regret that I had?

What was I actually risking? My heart? Hearts could heal. And really, how much damage could Beck do to my heart in only a couple of nights? That was the ultimate question. But what was the answer?

I don’t know. But I’m guessing it would probably be worth it.

I am the shy guy who stands in the corner. I am the coward who doesn’t take risks. And aside from being born gay, I am a straight-laced, head-down everyman, forever wary to color outside the lines.

I’d had to go into survival mode when my parents died and was suddenly on my own. And though a few relatives had given me the token ‘Anything you need, Olsen’ speech, I knew they weren’t promising much more than a cold casserole or maybe a Bundt cake.

I survived that. But that feeling still stuck with me, even now that I was out of the woods, an adult professional, and could hold my own. That sense that if I had food and warmth and a roof over my head, it was enough. Putting effort in for anything more was just a waste of precious energy.

But suddenly I didn’t want to be that guy anymore. I wanted to be brave and bold and push against the tides to get what I wanted. I wanted to climb the counter and steal the cookie from the jar. I wanted to be frivolous and illogical and fight for something just because it felt good. I wanted passion.

I wanted Beck.

This man I wanted had issues. Bags and buckets and clown cars full of issues. But I still wanted the crazy son of a bitch.

You can’t fuck the crazy out of someone, Olsen.

“Shut up, Kamal,” I muttered. “You don’t know everything.”

But I acknowledged grudgingly that Kamal’s ‘I told you so’ was already in play. Here I was, a lone man on an empty beach, sad and confused and longing, pining for a man I’d only briefly held in my arms. A man who thought he wasn’t real.

But he was real to me. I recalled the blissful expression on his face when he’d come inside me. The lingering stares he’d been giving me all night at the restaurant. The way he’d kissed me beneath the fireworks. That felt real. And despite his claims of wanting to pretend, I knew in my heart that at least part of it was real for him too. A glimpse of the real Beck, whoever he was. He was in there somewhere. And I wanted desperately to find him.

I headed toward the path, my stride steady and sure. Fuck it. Fuck the consequences. I was going to find Beck, and I would let him feel whatever he needed to feel from me. I’d let him pretend. Because I needed it too. My need was selfish and basic and did not require rational thought. I wanted to be in his bed, shrouded in his heat, letting him have me in any way he desired.

Maybe Kamal was right. Maybe I couldn’t fuck the crazy out of Beck.

But I was going to give it one hell of a try.

Chapter Six

 

The Man in the Iron Mask

 

My boldness wilted when I quietly approached the porch room and saw that the windows were dark. Beck had already turned out the lights, and was probably in bed.

I lingered in the shrubbery just outside the door, feeling like an obsessed stalker.
Just turn around and walk away. Don’t make a fool out of yourself.

I mentally rekindled the pep talk I’d just given myself on the beach. Tomorrow was the July fourth festivities, and who knew if Beck would even stick around for it now that he’d gone all gloom and doom. He’d outright admitted he’d been thinking of bailing out early. I had nothing to lose here. Pride didn’t even play into it, because after all, I was here to try and talk my way into a man’s bed after he’d left me stranded and alone on an empty beach. If I was going to do this, I had to be all in. I had to be fearless.

Beck said he was a different person than he used to be. Well, fine, if he could do it, then so could I. Let’s see if sweet, timid, predictable Olsen could surprise Beck. And surprise himself in the process.

Climbing the short set of stairs, I knocked on the darkened door.

And nothing happened. Just silence, aside from the crickets and other night sounds. Nothing stirred beyond the closed door. Maybe he wasn’t in there? Shit, I hoped the little nutcase hadn’t packed up in record time and left already.

I knocked again. This time I heard shuffling around inside, then Beck’s voice. “Hang on.”

Beck opened the door wearing a sleepy frown, shirtless and barefoot in lounge pants. He squinted at me, rubbing his eyes. “Olsen. Good Christ, haven’t I managed to scare you off yet?”

“Were you sleeping?”

He scratched his head. “I was about to be.”

“I was afraid you might have sneaked off in the cover of darkness.”

He grinned, but it was only slight. “Not yet.”

“I’ve been thinking,” I said.

“I see.” He leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest, looking sexy as hell in the dim lighting. “And you had to do your thinking here? Now? In the middle of the night?”

“Here’s the thing,” I said. “You told me I was the reason you’d stuck around and hadn’t bailed on your sister already, upsetting her the way you usually do, right?”

He eyed me skeptically. “Yeah. And?”

“Right. So what kind of friend would I be to her if I didn’t do all I could to make you stay? The way I see it, it’s my duty to come inside and go to bed with you, so I know I’ve done all I could to keep the peace. For Laurie.”

Beck blinked, then smirked. “For Laurie.”

I nodded. “That’s right.”

“That’s very...selfless of you, Olsen.”

“It’s a sacrifice, I know,” I said. “But I’m willing to take one for the team.”

I could tell Beck was trying not to smile, but finally he laughed, his head falling forward. “Take one for the team, huh?”

“Yes. We can stick to kissing and maybe a little oral if you’re not up for more strenuous activities. I realize that at your age things can get a little...tired down there.”

Beck straightened and his jaw dropped. “At my
age?
I’m like four years older than you, maximum!”

My poker face was beginning to falter, but I struggled not to smile. “I’m willing to put in the majority of the work here so as not to strain your old bones and achy joints. I’m a giver.”

“My
old bones?

I nodded, an involuntary chuckle escaping.

Beck smiled back at me. “You’re really asking for it.”

“I am,” I said. “I really,
really
am.”

Turning toward the door frame, Beck gently banged his head against it, letting out a soft, frustrated growl. He turned to me with a raised brow. “You really want to come in. After everything I just said to you on the beach. Don’t try and tell me I didn’t freak you out, Olsen. I saw the look on your face.”

“Look at me now.” I climbed the step and touched his arm. “Do you see caution in my eyes now? Hesitation?”

He frowned. “It’s dark. I can’t tell.”

I took the final step and stood next to him in the doorway, crowding his space. “How about now?” I stroked his arm, looking deeply into his eyes.

Beck took a shivering breath and closed his eyes. “Okay, Romeo.” His eyes opened and he stepped back. “Come in before you wake everyone up.”

I stepped inside and he closed the door, locking it. The room was dark and shadowy, narrow beams of moonlight filtering in through the slatted blinds. Beck walked to the bed and stood alongside it, then pulled his pants down, kicking them off. He peeled back the blankets, and climbed in, completely nude.

Rounding the bed, I stood on the other side and stripped out of my own clothes. I couldn’t tell if Beck was watching me in the darkness, but I took my time in case he was, pausing there for a moment once I was naked. I was fully erect and throbbing when I lifted the blankets and slid into bed beside him.

I found his warm, silken flesh and wrapped an arm around him, pulling him against me. His arousal was evident, hard against my leg, but he sighed deeply, and said, “Goodnight. Sleep well.”

“Oh no you don’t!” I gripped his chin as he snickered in the darkness. “You are
not
going to sleep right now.”

“You had something else in mind?”

The feel of his hard, naked body in my arms was driving me mad already, and I kissed him with all the passion I had inside, letting it spill through as I found his tongue, moaning while I hugged him tighter and rubbed my cock against him.

BOOK: Victim of Love
4.27Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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