The House on Hancock Hill (16 page)

“The way to a man’s heart,” I said, rolling my eyes. The table hadn’t been set yet, so I tried to wriggle out of the embrace, but Henry wasn’t having it. He cupped my face with one hand and made me look at him.

“It’s a bit late for that,” he murmured and then kissed me, slipping the hand behind my head, cradling it. Panic at those words had me make a small noise, but Henry mistook it for something else and deepened the kiss. Soon I melted into it. The taste of him—coffee and the cardamom scent that seemed to follow him everywhere—overwhelmed me, keeping me in the moment and away from the fallout to come. It felt so good, so right, to be here in this kitchen with him. Pressing closer, I kissed him back, parting his lips with my tongue, and he hummed. Pushing a little, I backed him up against the island, and he spread his thighs so I could fit between them. It sent a jolt of carnal arousal through me, and I made a hoarse noise.

“Maybe I’m not that hungry after all,” Henry croaked when we came up for air.

Though it cost me, I stepped away and said, “Food first.”

Together, we set the table for two, moving around each other with ease in this large kitchen, as if we’d been doing it for years. And the terrible thing was, I could see it. I could see us doing this. I could see it being easy, and I could see it lasting. Through thick and thin, harsh winters and brutally hot summers, we’d live in this happy bubble. That’s what it was, after all: a bubble. I had a life to return to, one I couldn’t just leave behind.

“How was your day?” Henry asked, filling my glass with the best bottle of red Monticello’s had to offer. I was only having one glass, since I had to take a painkiller with dinner.

“I took Annie out to brunch and then went to see the sheriff.” I didn’t mention the Realtor. It was moot until the burned shell came down anyway. “It looks like they’re closing the case.”

Henry lifted an eyebrow at me. “They know what happened?”

“I don’t think they’ll ever know for sure, but they’re ruling out foul play, it seems.”

“That poor girl,” Henry said, and though I agreed, this was not how I wanted dinner to go on.

“How about you? See any Pomeranians lately?” Henry laughed and nudged his foot against mine under the table, then left it there.

“No, but there was this one black Lab with an infection in his—”

“I don’t want to know!” I interrupted quickly, and Henry snorted. I hesitated, and then, staring at the half-eaten steak on my plate, added, “I, uh, got my things from above Annie’s garage. They’re still in your car. I didn’t want to assume, but I was hoping….” Not knowing quite how to finish, I let silence fall. When I glanced up, he was looking at me with such tightly coiled happiness, I felt I could burst.

He merely said, “I hoped you’d stay here.”

And just like that, I wasn’t hungry anymore. Or not that kind of hungry anyway.

“There’s a berry trifle in the fridge.”

Holding my gaze, he reached for my hand. “It’ll keep.”

We pushed our empty plates away when my phone rang, and I fished it out of my back pocket.

“Aren’t you gonna take that?” His amused voice pulled me out of the blank disbelief which had me blinking at the screen.

Daniel never called. We only e-mailed or texted, and seeing his name flashing on my phone was an uncomfortable reminder that real life was only forty-eight hours away. “Uh, yeah.” Avoiding his gaze, I picked up and said “Jason Wood” like I didn’t have caller ID.

“Hey, baby.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Henry’s eyebrows shoot up at the face I made. Daniel never called, and he certainly
never
called me baby.

“Hey.”

“How are you doing?” he purred. I glanced at the clock; it was eight thirty. Was he drunk?

“I’m all right.” Silence. I cleared my throat. “Still in the UP. How are you?”

“I miss you, baby.”

What the
hell
? My fish-on-dry-land impression was entertaining Henry if nothing else. “Right. Uh, was there anything else?” Daniel laughed. He had a nice laugh. Soft and melodic. “What’s so funny?”

“You and feelings, Jason. Does it make you break out in hives when I say I miss you?”

We’re not like that
, I wanted to tell him, but more than anything, I wanted this conversation to be over. Cutting a glance at Henry, I told Daniel, “Yeah, you know me. Listen, I’ll talk to you when I get back, okay?”

“Sure, baby. Take care of yourself, all right? We’re worried about you.” Who was “we”?

“Um, right. Bye, Dan.” I hung up before he could call me baby again.

“Who was that?” Henry asked, a second away from outright laughing at me.

“A friend.” I realized I was pouting but couldn’t help it.

“A
friend
?”

His eyes darkened, but he didn’t look mad or hurt, so I grumbled, “I said I didn’t have a boyfriend, not that I was a monk.”

This time, he did laugh. He pulled me out of my chair and into his lap, arms nestling comfortably around my waist as I straddled him. “Should I be jealous?” he asked. Forehead pressed against my breastbone, he nosed back and forth against my shirt. His curls bounced, thick and soft, inviting me to run my fingers through them.

“Never,” I whispered, and I stilled because that was far too honest and not something I had meant to say at all. I felt like I was being torn in two between the compelling urge to remain here with Henry, and a deeper, darker corner of my soul that wanted to run and never look back.

“Don’t worry. I won’t hold you to it.” There was amusement on his face, definitely, but there was something sad too. I didn’t believe he was disappointed, just… resigned. “Come on, don’t give me that look,” he whispered and lifted his chin, reaching for me to kiss him. So I did.

W
E
ENDED
up in his bed, stripped down to our underwear, kissing lazily. I loved touching him, the muscles of his chest, his stomach, the veins on his forearms. Never before had I wanted to just look at someone, drink him in. Never before had simply lying beside a warm body been a goal in itself rather than a means to an end.

Henry lifted his head and shifted so I could roll onto my uninjured side. The stitches on my chin throbbed, but I ignored them. He said, “So tell me about this friend of yours.” I looked at him in confusion. “Dan.”

“Ah. Daniel Frisk.” His eyebrow rose. “He’s, uh, someone I meet up with, every once in a while.”

“Yeah?” If he was jealous, he didn’t show it. “And what does Daniel Frisk do when he’s not meeting up with you?”

“He’s a physical therapist at the Munson Medical Center.” I waited for the massage joke, but it didn’t come. “He’s a nice guy, but it’s not like we’re dating or anything. He’s just—”

“Competent?” He laughed when I poked his ribs. “Will you see him when you leave here?”

“I—”

I didn’t know what he saw on my face, but he quickly leaned over and kissed me, easing me onto my back. “It’s all right,” he murmured, bracketing me with his arms. Whenever Tom used to do this, or even Daniel, it had made me feel claustrophobic. With Henry, I fit my hands to the rise of his ribs and stroked him, treasuring him. “I’m not judging you. I just want to know you won’t be alone. Forget I asked. It’s none of my business.”

“So you did have sex with women?” I asked Henry when we’d kissed for so long my lips felt numb. It’d been something that had niggled at the back of my mind, and while I hadn’t meant for it to come out like that, he didn’t seem to care. He rolled onto his back, but it didn’t feel like it was to get away from me, so I turned on my side to watch him.

“Not loads, but yeah. A few times in college. Two years ago, there was a vet tech at the clinic, but she didn’t stick around.”

I tried not to imagine what might’ve happened if she had.

“And you never found it weird? Or… I don’t know. Whenever I used to picture having sex with women….” I made a face.

“I like women,” Henry said easily. “That hasn’t changed.”

“But you like men, too.”

He seemed to ponder that. “Not really. It’s just you, I guess.”

“Oh.” I wasn’t sure what that meant, and it was too early to start brooding about possible explanations. “So,” I rolled onto my belly and grinned at him. “What do you prefer, now that you can compare.”

Henry rolled his eyes but he smiled, shifting onto his side too. “Sex with women,” he said.

“Hey!” I pushed up, not having expected that answer. Henry pulled me back down.

“I wasn’t done.” He kneaded his fingers through my hair, into the tight muscle of my neck. “Sex with women is easier. If you’re both hot for it, you can just go for it, while from what I know—which isn’t much—with a guy there’s more….”

“Prep,” I finished for him. “Right.”

“Will we do that?” Henry laughed into the stunned silence. “Speechless, Jay?”

“Well….” I gathered my wits. “We can do whatever you feel like trying. I don’t have a preference. I mean, I like it either way, and you won’t know what you like until you try it.”

“Sounds fun,” he murmured, eyes glinting mischievously. My mouth went dry. The teasing smile disappeared, and he looked me straight in the eye. “I’ve never loved kissing anyone the way I love kissing you. Women’s mouths are soft. I like how your lips are strong and your skin is slightly rough. I—” He flushed pink, dipping his gaze and then lifting it to look at me through his eyelashes. “I really like that,” he finished quietly.

“You never kissed another guy before me?”

“You were the first,” he told me, like a secret tucked between the blankets in my bed. “And you’ll most likely be the last.”

“Henry—”

“Sh, c’mere.”

Whatever I’d anticipated, it wasn’t this gloriously unexpected survey of my body with Henry’s mouth. He trailed kisses down my sternum, licked into my navel, and I gave a tremulous laugh. His breath was like warmed caramel on my skin, his mouth so sure, I couldn’t believe where this was going. I groaned when he pressed a careful hand against the bulge of my boxer briefs.

“Is this okay?”

“Anything you want,” I told him, and I meant it. “Don’t feel like you have to—” I bit back another embarrassing sound when Henry mouthed at me through the fabric. “Oh, God.”

“I want to.” With a strange detached fascination, I watched Henry peel my underwear wetly away from my cock. He dragged them off my legs and sat on his heels, studying me. “So gorgeous.”

“Too skinny.”

He smiled, slow and sultry. “Maybe a little. Still very beautiful.” First he squeezed my ankles, and then he ran his hands up my shins and over my knees to the inside of my thighs. He pressed a little until I parted them, and he crawled forward.

“You should put a condom on me.” He raised a questioning eyebrow. “You should always be safe, with me and whoever else….” I let the words die because his face darkened. It wasn’t fair, fuck, what was I doing? The first time he did this shouldn’t be with someone who was about to disappear from his life, no matter how reluctantly. I began to sit up, but he stopped me.

“I’m clean.”

“So am I, but—”

“Then I trust you, and I want… I want to taste you, not the condom.” He must’ve seen the protest that was forming on my lips, because he silenced it with a kiss. “Let me do this for you,” he whispered. “I really want to.”

And God, I really did too. That amazingly lush mouth. I reached for him, ignoring the twinge my ribs gave, and pulled him down. My bruised face stung as I kissed him, but I didn’t care. It made the heat of his tongue as it touched mine all the sweeter. He made a pained noise and stroked my side, then sat up to look at me. I allowed myself to look my fill in return. He was strong and smooth apart from a dusting of light hair around the brown aureoles of his nipples and a thick, straight trail that teased from his bellybutton into his briefs, like cake crumbs leading to a honey trap.

Lost in my admiration of him, I shouted when he closed his mouth tightly around my cock. That hot slick heat demanded to be filled, but I held back as well as I could, my thighs trembling with the effort. I tried to catch my breath, to calm down. He wasn’t having any of that; he used his tongue against me and then added a hand to the equation, and soon I was tensing up. I didn’t bother trying to hold off the noises making their way out of my mouth. If anything, he seemed to like it. He moaned around me, the vibration of it rattling me to the core, then pressed his tongue into the slit of my cock. My toes curled until my feet cramped, and the orgasm rolled through me like a tidal wave.

“Fuck, Henry,” I moaned, trying to pull him off, but he wouldn’t let me and swallowed it all. It seemed he meant it when he said he wanted to taste me. I reached for him so I could kiss him as I calmed down. Bracing himself so as not to crush me, I still noticed the heavy weight of his erection in his briefs, and my stomach lurched pleasantly at the thought that sucking me off turned him on. “Now me,” I said, but he shook his head.

“You can’t, with your ribs. I don’t want you to get hurt.” I hooked my legs around his waist and squeezed him tight, making him groan. He buried his face in my neck and rubbed the palm of his left hand over my hip. Shyly at first, then more firmly, he fit his hand to the curve of my ass. “When your ribs are better though,” he mumbled, and I could feel the heat coming off him even as I saw the blush spread over his neck. “When they don’t hurt anymore, I want to hold you up, take your weight and… fuck you against the wall.”

“Oh God,
Henry
,” I whined, shutting my eyes. The image was at once startlingly hot, making my spent cock twitch, and frighteningly intimate. He lifted his head and grinned bashfully. The smile I gave him in return was possibly a little wicked. “As for my ribs hurting now, there’s a solution.” Shuffling back, wrestling with pillows until I rested comfortably against the headboard, I reached for him. The moment it dawned on him what I wanted, he turned a gorgeous pink all the way from his hairline to the center of his breast.

“Jason,” he whispered hoarsely, eyes wide. His pupils were so dilated, the irises looked black.

“Please,” I whispered back. My mind was a blank slate apart from the need to make him feel good. I couldn’t explain, so I put my hands on his waist and slid my fingertips into his underwear, letting them trail lightly between the globes of his ass. He shuddered. God, I wanted to do that too, but it was too soon. Emotions warred on his face. He didn’t want to hurt me, but at the same time he desired me, and it warmed my heart with much more than just lust. “Come on,” I coaxed when he didn’t move, pushing his briefs down slowly so he could stop me if he needed to. He didn’t, so I eased the fabric past his beautiful erection. I rubbed my palm up and down his length. Heavy and perfectly straight. A pearl of moisture beaded at the tip. It made my mouth water. Above me, Henry sighed. I rubbed the moisture around the head with my thumb, slipping underneath the silky foreskin. “How long has it been?”