Whatever the Cost (38 page)

“What’s he do?”

“Right now he’s managing our building. Supervisor. Landlord. That kind of thing. And helping get us settled in after all the moving around.”

“Hmm,” Joe hums, nodding.

Lily pipes up at last, “Is he as cute as you?”

“Cuter,” Jacen grins.

They close early that day. Joe and Lily have a funeral to attend for a friend’s father and they give Jacen the rest of the day off. A number of things knock around in his head on the drive home, which he takes slow and easy. He wonders about all the hinting comments Liam has been making recently, just in passing, about maybe getting another piercing. Each time Jacen presses him on it, Liam clams up and won’t say any more than that, not even giving Jacen an idea where the new piercing might be located. All Jacen has been able to offer is support and assurance that whatever Liam wants to do with his own body, he can do. And it’s not like it’s a huge secret how hot Jacen’s thinks the three piercings Liam already has are.

That prompts Jacen’s thoughts to roll over and catch on to the fact that he hasn’t bottomed during sex with Liam for at least a month, maybe two. And the way things are going, he might not ever again. Liam has backed off completely, giving no sign that he needs that from Jacen anymore. In a way it’s a relief. It’s been a long time since Jacen wasn’t required to be okay with submitting to anal sex. He considers a life in which that isn’t a part of and after thinking it through, realizes for the first time, maybe even for the first time in the whole of his life, that he doesn’t want that. He likes receiving from Liam.

Part of the dull ache that he’s been living with recently is due to the fact that he hasn’t gotten that from Liam in longer than he would like. So far, Jacen had attributed his unshakable gloom to the utter lack of sex in his marriage. It’s been four weeks since the day of the move and the big fight. Jacen is starting to go insane from the lack of release. At first it was nice to have a break. Now it just feels wrong. It claws at him from within, the need, itching under his skin, scratching at his thoughts all night and day. He’s become a serial masturbator out of sheer desperation and every time he indulges, he gets the nagging suspicion that Liam knows he’s doing it, that Liam might even be listening in, and it just makes it worse. But Jacen’s determination holds out. He will not entice or ask sex of Liam if he’s not ready. He just won’t. Not after coming so close to raping the man he loves more than his own life. Jacen would rather be celibate.

Fantasies begin to rise in Jacen’s mind, of submitting to Liam, suspecting that Liam might actually be okay with something like that if properly persuaded that Jacen was the instigator and not doing it for any reason that wasn’t selfish. These fantasies gloss over everything else, his lingering thoughts about work and the next day’s menu, his low mood and constant fears about The Company, his wonderings about Liam’s state of mind.

Jacen pulls up to their building, parking on the street out front. He shifts the truck into park and considers losing himself in the fantasy a little longer, maybe even jerking off in the cab before going inside. Hell, the truck’s got tinted windows and he’s done more with less privacy.

As he moves to cup himself, he notices the person by the corner of the apartment building’s brick walls. He freezes but even as his consciousness first refuses to acknowledge who it is, there is no fear or panic, just shock.

He breathes out a throaty groan and shuts his eyes against the vision, willing it away because he can’t handle it. It’s not fair. Not after everything. There’s only so much a person should be expected to handle before they just have a mental breakdown and give up the fight.

Reopening his eyes with a profound dread crawling up his gut, Jacen gets them half-lifted and gazes heavily out the window.

“Sweet fuck,” he moans. “So unfair.”

He can’t look away.

“He’s trying to kill me. He’s actually trying to kill me.”

Standing by the cluster of mailboxes for each of the building’s six apartments is a man with golden blond hair, grown shaggy and long on top. It curls sweetly over his forehead. His eyes are masked by dark, wrap-around sunglasses. His skin is sun-baked a warm golden brown, the tan gleaming on his bare arms and shoulders. His body is lean and toned from diet and regular, daily exercise, the contours of muscle stark and sharp in the bright afternoon sun. Each shadow and hollow seems etched by a chisel, but the flesh glistens with a light sheen of sweat, highlighting his body perfectly, as if it’s a statue placed on the lawn for all that pass by to admire. That’s all bad enough, causing heat to flare and rise, flushing Jacen’s skin pink, causing his blood to pump faster, pulsing hotly. But what Liam is wearing is worst of all.

A sinfully tight, black tank top is stretched over his chest so that his nipple studs stand out clearly beneath the thin cotton fabric. Around his hips, slung low, is a black kilt. It catches the breeze, lifting on currents of air. His feet are clad in knee-high combat boots with thick black leather straps wrapping his lower legs from bottom to top.

Jacen whimpers and squeezes his cock through his jeans, kneading it to relieve pressure as his balls throb painfully. Imagining Liam is naked under the kilt, his pierced dick rubbing against the coarse fabric of the kilt every time he moves, Jacen is aroused so fast that it hurts. There’s a vivid half-second flash of a fantasy that lights Jacen’s taxed brain, of pushing Liam up against the rough bricks of the wall, flipping up the back of the kilt, getting it out of the way and mindlessly fucking into and rutting inside of his tight heat.

A hard shudder rips through Jacen’s massive frame and his vision narrows, centered wholly on Liam, sweating and flexing in the sunshine as he swings a hammer and embeds a nail in the wood bracing the metal mailboxes. Liam bends over, crouching. He plucks another nail from the box of them at his feet, sticking one between his rosy lips, holding another between his fingers and lining it up before using the hammer to tap it in place. His shoulders and back muscles flex and he shifts his hips, the kilt swaying.

“Fuck me running.” Jacen covers his eyes with a hand, blocking out the vision. He fills his lungs with deep inhales through his nose, blowing the air back out through his mouth, kneading his aching balls and willing his erection to wilt enough to allow him to stand and walk from the car to the front door.

Somehow he manages it. By the time he’s stepping out of the truck, his gaze fixed to the sidewalk, Liam is finishing his task and gathering his supplies. Jacen locks the vehicle and focuses on getting past Liam, into the building. He thinks of his menu for the next day, listing off entrees and appetizers one by one, methodically. Maybe Liam won’t see him. Maybe Jacen can get inside and upstairs unnoticed, and can barricade himself in the bathroom for a good, hard jerk before his testicles fill to bursting.

He’s almost at the door. One more step and he can grab the handle.

“Hey! You’re home early,” a rough, raspy voice calls happily.

“Fuuuck,” Jacen moans miserably. He wishes he had his sunglasses on too, but he’d left them at home that day. They’re upstairs on the counter in the kitchen next to the coffee pot.

He’s utterly unable to mask his thoughts as he turns to Liam. There’s raging, wild lust in his liquid-blue eyes, along with a sense of barely controlled composure. First his eyes catch on the nipple piercings; then his gaze skitters down to where he imagines Liam’s cock hangs, dangling in the breeze.

Easy access
....

Jacen can’t even pretend to be able to formulate words into anything sensible. He just stares at Liam, eye-fucking him.

Liam’s full lips twist into a wicked grin. He reaches up and slides the dark glasses from his face. Licking his lips wet, he tries to catch Jacen’s eye and fails. So he clears his throat and says, “Hey.”

That does it. Jacen’s eyes dart upwards long enough to catch on Liam’s face. When he sees what Liam wants him to, something in Jacen breaks and shifts darkly. His thick, huge hand comes up to wrap the side of Liam’s sweet face, and Liam knows as surely as he stands there that he needs to get them inside, now.

“Come on,” Liam urges, pulling Jacen toward the door, glancing around to see if they’re observed.

They take the stairs with Liam climbing them in front of Jacen, his ass shifting with every step and he feels Jacen’s eyes on him like a caress, moving over his skin as tangibly as if he was groping his bottom as they walk.

Liam fumbles his keys out, unlocking the door with Jacen right at his back, breathing hot and heavy over the back of Liam’s neck, causing his skin to pebble. Then they’re inside and Liam turns the lock behind them. It’s all Jacen can do not to
grab
and
take
and
plunder
so Liam maintains control for both of their sakes. Holding Jacen’s gaze, Liam’s eyes are wide and assured and calm. The new dermal piercing on the top of his cheekbone just about an inch below the outer corner of his right eye catches the fading daylight filtered in through the windows. Sparkling like a diamond chip, the tiny adornment is like a tear freshly slipped from Liam’s big, shining eyes, making him seem vulnerable, fragile, and exquisitely beautiful.

Jacen’s resolve is slipping through his fingers, and desperation radiates from him. Wordlessly pleading with Liam, Jacen knows he cannot ask so he warns Liam to get away, and quickly.

“Bedroom. Come on,” Liam whispers, nodding toward the hall. “It’s okay.”

“Lee,” Jacen warns.

“It’s okay,” Liam repeats.

A fresh shudder races through Jacen’s body, his desire threatening to overwhelm his system, overtaking logic. Because he can see in Liam’s eyes as clearly as Liam sees Jacen’s wild need that he’s not ready yet. He’s still not ready, after all this time.

“Baby, I can’t,” Jacen almost sobs.

Liam sighs, he moves right up against Jacen’s front, putting their bodies flush together, feeling the heat baking from Jacen’s skin, the hardness jutting between his legs. He teases the tip of his tongue over the swell of Jacen’s bottom lip then sucks a light kiss there.

“I won’t hurt you again,” Jacen hisses.

“I know,” Liam replies gently. “Just trust me, okay?”

Jacen goes, letting Liam pull him along, and it feels like damnation.

They’re in the bedroom and Jacen stands by the foot of the bed. Squeezing his eyes shut against the temptation of Liam’s body, Jacen feels his lover’s hand slip away.

Liam peels off his shirt, letting it fall to the floor. “I want you to watch. I want to see how much you want me.”

Jacen stares at the discarded shirt, refusing to look at Liam himself even as he hovers there in the periphery of his vision. “Leave the kilt on. And the boots,” he says roughly.

Liam sits on the edge of the bed and then slides up toward the pillows, laying back on them, letting them prop him up. He plants his feet on the bed widely, letting his knees fall open.

He’s naked under the kilt. Jacen moans thickly.

Reaching down between his legs, Liam slides the kilt up and begins to fondle himself. The black leather of the boots is stark next to the paler skin of Liam’s groin. His cock hangs dark and heavy between his legs, the skin there recently waxed clean of all hair and Jacen can’t
not
look. He’s helpless.

“Let me see how hard you are,” Liam instructs. His fingers trace the line of his dick, root to tip, around the head, along the edge of the silver metal of his piercing. The flesh stirs, twitching, thickening. Wrapping his shaft in a hand, Liam tugs. Again. His free hand slides over his chest, rubbing hard, clawing at the taut muscle and leaving faint pink lines in his nails’ wake. His fingers find the piercing in his left nipple, pulling at it.

Jacen’s eyes flutter momentarily closed as he swallows another moan. Clawing at his pants, he gets them quickly opened, undoing the belt, tugging down the zipper, pushing the denim down enough to free his member. He cradles the heavy weight of it in his hand, not daring to stroke, not yet. He wants to savor this, to make it last.

It starts slowly. Liam strokes his cock, getting it really hard, flushed red. He squirts some lube in his palm, slicking the fluid over himself. His fingers play at his nipple, stimulating it easily. Then his fingernails scratch downward, over his abs. He reaches down over the bunched fabric of the kilt, between his spread legs. His right wrist snaps, working his cock at a steady pace while, with his left hand, he rolls his balls, tugging gently on them. His hips come slightly off the bed but he doesn’t play it up too much, knowing that Jacen would be able to tell if he was faking. Instead, Liam gets lost in the freedom of it, the unbearable lust in his lover’s eyes, only for him. Pumping his cock until pre-come oozes from the slit, Liam hums and purrs, pushing his hips up into his hand at a steady pace. Then his left hand quests lower and the pad of his middle finger traces the clenched knot of his hole.

A ragged breath leaves Jacen. He closes his eyes to gather himself and props his left foot on the base of the bed. Liam stares at Jacen’s hand kneading his cock, jacking it as slowly as he can stand. But, as Liam’s finger circles around and around his opening, his legs falling even more widely opened, his hips tilting up to give Jacen a better view, Jacen’s need grows. Looking away, Liam lets his head fall back on the pillows and he relaxes into it, the feel of his hand sliding on his lubed cock, and inserts his middle finger steadily, until it’s fully seated in his anus.