Bad Influence (22 page)

Zeb put his hand on Silver’s unbruised cheek. “Jord—Silver.”

“Shut up.”

Zeb tried to pull his hand free, but Silver held it there.

“Shut up and listen,” Silver said. “Why did you go to Haiti?”

“To help build a school and to teach.”

“Bull. Shit.”

Zeb jerked his hand free. “What’s the point of doing this now?”

Silver’s hand started to reach for Zeb’s face, to hold him so he couldn’t hide behind averted glances and fake smiles. But he wouldn’t force it. If they were going to make this happen, make something honest, it could only be because they both wanted it.

“You said when I figured out what I wanted, I should tell you.”

Zeb nodded, lips a thin line.

“Well, I did. Now I’m trying to figure out if I can have it.”

Zeb smiled. Not the fake one or the twisted one. But a small one. Like for once he didn’t have the right answer for how to act. Leaning in, he kissed Silver, just long enough to make him remember why this was so damned important.

“Yeah.” Silver sighed. “Okay. That much we’ve got. But it’s going to take a little more this time around. Hard truths. Why did you go to Haiti?”

Zeb glanced down. “Because…” He drew the word out, then a long inhale before the rest of the words came out in a rush. “I knew it was wrong. You—God, you were sixteen. The guilt of it.”

“So with your logic, I’m the reason you got malaria.”

“That’s insane.”

“So is you feeling responsible for me being positive.” Silver shrugged. “You knew the risks when you went to a tropical country with no health care.”

Zeb looked like he was about to argue, so Silver said, “And if I decided to have sex with guys without a condom, I knew the risk. It was my choice, and I sure as fuck am not watching you nail yourself to another cross over it.”

When Zeb moved toward him, Silver met him. Holding him tight, being held. Silver rested his head on Zeb’s shoulder. “I was so angry. At them. At you. At the whole fucking world. So I did some stupid stuff.”

This was easier than face-to-face. Easier to hear when Zeb said, “I was mad at you too. Enough to do my own share of stupid. And I’m sorry.”

Silver lifted his head. “No more sorries. I don’t want then, I want now. I could go to jail. For a year.” No matter how much Gavin’s lawyer cost, that was another hard truth Silver hadn’t been ready for. And now the idea of it made him cold right down to having ice for bone marrow. “And if that’s going to happen, I don’t want to spend the year thinking about what could have been happening if I wasn’t so goddamned pissed off.”

Zeb laughed, and it wasn’t so cold anymore. Warmth spread out from where Zeb’s hands pressed Silver tight in the hug. “And I thought you were precocious at sixteen.”

“Yeah, well, it turns out that kind of precocious only gets you so far.” Silver tried to laugh, but it was more than half sigh.

Zeb held Silver’s face between his hands and kissed him. Lips parted, more pressure and heat and urgency this time. Silver opened his mouth and flicked an invitation with his tongue. They both groaned with the first wet contact, the taste and heat of each other’s mouth.

It wasn’t only the kiss that was different. Getting turned on was different too. Instead of his dick sending sparks out, this feeling curled out from his belly, waking up his cock, yeah, but rippling up and down his spine and legs and even his arms. Zeb groaned again, a sweet vibration on Silver’s lips, hands sliding down, shoulders, back, until they cupped Silver’s ass.

A twinge of pain in his lip as Zeb deepened the kiss made Silver pull back.

“Can we start over?” Zeb whispered into the space between their mouths.

“My lip.”

Zeb released him. “Sorry.”

“Not that. I’m afraid it’s going to start bleeding again.”

“Oh.” Then Zeb’s eyes opened wider. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Zeb’s tongue made a shifting protrusion around lips and cheeks. “I don’t have any cuts in my mouth.” He wrapped his arms around Silver’s waist and smiled. Not the fake smile, but the one that let Silver see Zeb wasn’t completely sure of himself. “I’m ready if you are.”

Because he didn’t want any misunderstanding, Silver grabbed Zeb’s wrist and brought his hand to where Silver’s dick pulsed, then moved it off before he could enjoy the sensation of a hand not his own there for the first time in months. “Ready, yeah. I want to.” God, he wanted to. Before he forgot how to do it. And to find out if it was as good as he remembered with Zeb. “But I’m going to be all responsible for a minute and say no.”

Zeb’s smile disappeared for a second before being replaced by a brighter one. “No?”

“I don’t want it to be because you think you have to prove something.” Silver shrugged.

“Nice to know what you think of me.” Zeb had kicked out of his pants, so when he dragged Silver’s hand forward, there wasn’t any barrier to the proof of Zeb’s interest. Silver’s fingers barely brushed the satiny skin of Zeb’s shaft before Zeb released him.

“Does that feel like I’m only trying to prove something?”

He bit back the impulse to ask when Zeb
wasn’t
trying to prove something. “The first thing you said after I told you I was positive was that you needed time to ‘digest’ it. And I think you should.”

“Do I get a say in this?”

“Sure.” Silver sat on the bed and scooped his shirt off the floor. “You digest it and then let me know.”

Zeb pushed him backward onto the mattress, pinning his shoulders flat. His eyes had never looked so intense—except maybe with a dick up his ass. “Don’t you pull this self-righteous crap on me. I invented it.”

“I think your crown of thorns is safe enough.”

“Finding out you’re positive was a shock. I admit it.”

When Zeb paused, time froze with him. The next thing he said was either going to be something Silver could live with or kill any chance of making this work. They were too close to the edge, one way or another. The tension was worse than the ache of straining to come when he’d pushed it back too many times, waiting for the director’s call.

This pain came from higher up, his ribs shrinking, strangling his lungs, his heart. When Zeb’s gaze softened, Silver knew it was over. Being positive was the final stroke that killed off whatever Zeb had felt for Jordan, those feelings impossible to transfer to Silver. He wanted to slap a hand over Zeb’s mouth, put it off for a few more seconds.

“Jordan.”

Yup, bad news.

Zeb’s lips pressed together, and he made a tiny shake of his head as he corrected himself. “Silver, I could take between now and Doomsday to think about it, and it wouldn’t make a difference. I want to be with you. Any way. Every way.”

Silver played the words back in his head, hoping they burned a permanent loop in his brain.

The cramp in his chest eased, a deep breath bringing everything back into balance. He fought a smile then gave up. “Get off me then. Gotta get my pants off.”

Zeb grinned and rolled off. Silver ditched his slacks and briefs, taking a second to hang them and his shirt off the doorknob so they’d be less of a disaster at work.

Climbing back on the bed, he dragged Zeb under him. “Okay. But we’re not fucking until I think you’re ready.”

“Seriously?”

Silver nodded. “Payback’s a bitch, huh?”

“I was an asshole.”

It was still a shock to hear Zeb say anything like that, more the language than admitting his fault, though it did sound more sincere than his usual martyrdom.

“I wouldn’t go that far. A moron maybe.”

“I remember it didn’t slow us down much.” Zeb’s hands stroked down Silver’s back, gliding over his ass, fingers grazing the crease.

“No,” Silver agreed as Zeb’s grip lifted him forward, so their dicks dragged against each other. Slow rhythm, heat growing, skin tightening, cocks swelling harder, hotter. Silky friction tingling from his slit to his balls. Silver arched, pumped his hips, eyes closed concentrating on the reawakened sensations chasing around inside. The dizzying flash along his cock, the solid build of excitement sparking his balls. And when he opened his eyes, it was Zeb there with him, straining up into another kiss.

Silver welcomed Zeb’s tongue back inside, slipping his own deep, and somehow even after three years that taste was familiar. Satisfaction and renewed craving tangled up in their bodies and mouths as they moved together.

They were both panting when they broke for breath. Zeb’s hand stroked through Silver’s hair, eyes fixed on his face. “It’s you. Really you.”

He knew what Zeb meant. Dreams had taken Silver back to this more than once. Left him bitter, aching, and absolutely empty when he woke. “Yeah.”

Zeb’s fingers sifted through Silver’s hair again. “I missed you.”

Silver had had this. Pleasure and hunger, for fun as much as necessity. Most of the time it had felt the same, but the difference happened when it was over. Right now there was a huge difference.

“Me too.”

And that had been long enough without kissing him, without the tingling stroke of tongues and the hard friction between them.

It wasn’t all perfect, rough with only a little precome to ease the scrape, but the idea of stopping—of separating—was way worse. He resented the need to catch his breath, that he couldn’t just drink it out of Zeb’s lungs. Nothing would be enough, not even Silver’s cock inside Zeb could be enough when what he wanted was to melt into him, taste him, breathe him, cover him with sweat and come. Fuse completely at the bone.

Except when they did have to gasp and drag in fresh air, Silver got to watch Zeb. Watch pleasure shape his eyes and mouth, color his cheeks and throat. See the reflected hunger that sent them back into another kiss.

Zeb arched up harder, harsh gasps breaking from his throat. Tension slammed into Silver’s balls, coiling at the base of his spine. Warning and promise. He’d been locked in a chastity cage for years, and no way could he hold back anymore. A question screamed in the back of his brain. Was this safe? What was the risk in his come on the head of Zeb’s dick? The flood drowned out everything but an ability to gasp a warning.

“Shit. I’m gonna—”

Zeb shifted them so as Silver’s muscles locked into those beautiful spasms, his cock pumped onto Zeb’s stomach and chest. Zeb nipped at Silver’s jaw, his lips, making that sensation roll on until he collapsed, dropping his forehead onto Zeb’s.

An easy motion tipped them onto their sides and let Silver slide a hand between them to get a good grip on Zeb’s dick. The familiar groan against Silver’s shoulder reminded him he knew exactly what Zeb wanted. Tight, a hard tight strip on the shaft. Silver knew what Zeb liked whispered in his ear too.

“Come for me.” Silver took Zeb’s earlobe between his teeth to suck and tuck.

The sound would have been at home on a barrel-chested bear, deep and rough, vibrating from Zeb’s slim chest. Zeb’s hips jerked, the first shot landing on Silver’s shoulder, the rest mixing with the jizz already sticking them together.

After a long, shuddering breath, Zeb pulled Silver closer. This was what he had missed. Welded together, sticky, sweaty and smelling like sex. Bodies still shaking, hearts slowing.

But instead of being able to relax into it, Silver found himself wondering if this was okay. If Zeb wanted Silver’s unsafe spunk drying on him. If the hugging after was only Zeb’s determination to prove that things hadn’t changed.

If Silver could turn off his damned brain, it would be nice to drift to sleep like this. His phone alarm would beep when he had to leave for work. Except it was way the fuck over in his pants.

Zeb kissed his forehead. “What time do you have to be at work?”

“We’ve got time.” Silver didn’t want to let go, so he wiped the hair from his face using Zeb’s shoulder.

“Not enough. Not for everything I want to do with you.”

Silver’s stomach made a painful flip, half fear, half longing. It couldn’t be real. Not lying here plastered with come and not Zeb saying stuff Silver wouldn’t even have come up with in a dream.

“I could pick you up tonight. You could stay with me.”

That was something Silver
had
dreamed. More than once. But he hadn’t imagined Zeb would sound so desperate for a yes.

“I could, but I have to go back in the morning to get my pill.” And if that wasn’t mood killer enough, he knew Marco would be early. “And then I have plans before work tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Zeb didn’t release him, but his embrace grew slack. “So.”

That was a weird shift in tone. Silver leaned back enough to prop his head up on a cocked elbow. “What?”

Zeb swallowed, throat bobbing in a way that made Silver’s tongue want to go along for the ride. “Who was that guy?”

“What guy?”

“The one last night at the gallery. In the nice suit. The one who gave you champagne.”

Well, Jamie had handed it to him, and he hadn’t been wearing a nice suit. And Zeb had met Jamie, whose red hair and asshole attitude tended to leave an impression. Not Jamie.

“Beach? He’s Gavin’s friend. That’s about all I know about him.” Silver felt his lip start to curl and sucked it in to hide the smile, which hurt. “And the plans tomorrow, that’s a friend thing too, not a date.”