Authors: Cameron Dane
Yes.
Noah pumped his shaft with an even harder drag, yet the hand wrapped around his cock somehow felt smaller, with a different kind of strength. The words
“Let go for me, Noah,”
in a smooth, sweet voice filled Noah’s ear, as if Zane whispered the order against Noah’s shoulder—much in the way he’d done when he’d hugged Noah so tightly earlier today. In the bathroom, Noah nodded. His entire frame jolted, and he smothered his cry of Zane’s name into the T-shirt as he lost it and shot his release into the toilet. Jet after jet of seed splashed into the water, and endless streams of pleasure rushed through to every corner of Noah’s being. And all the way through, Noah swore Zane milked his cock and whispered how pleased he was to see Noah come so hard for him.
His legs temporarily weak, Noah crushed his fist with the T-shirt into the sink ledge, supported his weight, and breathed heavily while working to recover from such a powerful orgasm. He caught a glimpse of himself in the edge of the mirror, and the sight filled his gut and psyche with humiliation and shame. Lust-filled, desperate eyes stared back at Noah. Release had not doused his desire one bit; all that hunger still lived within, visibly, all for an innocent guy nearly young enough to be his son.
Fuck.
Noah dug his knuckles into the marble counter surface harder, grinding until spikes of shooting pain filled his hand. He needed something, anything, to shove him back to reality; anything to help sober him and make him see and understand that Zane was not standing behind him encouraging him to come. Noah stood in a bathroom by himself, and he had pathetically jerked off to inappropriate fantasies about a young man who appreciated Noah’s generosity but not his sexuality and body.
A soft knock sounded at the door, and Noah jerked as if someone had shot a bullet into the bathroom. “Noah?” Zane’s voice carried through the thick wood. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
Jesus motherfucking goddamn Christ.
Noah yanked up his shorts and underwear, wincing when the damp fabric pulled at his flesh. “Just a sec.” In quick succession, he flushed the toilet, washed his hands, and barely took a second to dry them on a towel before opening the door. Zane stood a few steps back in the hall, donning a fresh T-shirt, dry and dressed once more.
Noah blurted, “I apologize.” He tore his stare off the sliver of flat stomach still visible as Zane adjusted his shirt.
Damn it. Stop looking.
“I didn’t mean to hog the bathroom. I’ve gotten used to having one to myself most days.”
After pulling down his T-shirt, Zane stepped forward, almost over the bathroom’s threshold. “If I had to pee I could use the toilet in the master bathroom. I don’t care about that.” He let his focus slide down the left side of Noah’s body. “You jammed your shoulder and hip into the dock pretty hard, though, so I just wanted to make sure you hadn’t done any permanent damage.”
Noah growled; he couldn’t control it. “I might not be twenty anymore,” he glared as he moved past Zane, “but I can still recover from a hit. Somehow, I think I’ll live.”
“Shit, no.” Zane scrambled to get side by side with Noah, stopping him before they reached the living room. “I didn’t mean it like that. You look good for,” red forged its way up Zane’s neck to his face, “for … for…” he gestured with his hands, “for…”
“My age?” Shit, it wasn’t as if Noah could get around being almost two decades older than this man.
Zane reared and narrowed his stare. “For a guy, I mean. For any age, for a person. Shit.” Zane dug his hands into his dark mess of hair. “I don’t know how to explain stuff like this, except I’m not blind, so I can see when someone is in way better shape than I am. And you are that, so I wasn’t trying to make some kind of dig about your age, whatever it even is.”
“I’m forty-two,” Noah supplied.
“It doesn’t matter,” Zane shot back, a snap in his tone. “I just came to see if you were okay, that’s all. Not because of your age, but just because I already bandaged up some scrapes on myself. You took the harder hit, so I wanted to see if you needed anything. You were in the bathroom for longer than it takes to piss,” pure reason sounded in Zane’s tone, “so I got worried something might be wrong. Period. End of story.”
In the face of such logic, Noah dropped back and leaned against the wall. “Christ,” he banged his head against the plaster, “I am such an ass sometimes.”
Empathy filled Zane’s smile. “You’ve had a shitty day. You’re allowed.”
Shaking his head, Noah dug his fists into his forehead, muttering, “And you’ve already gone above and beyond by listening to me bitch and moan…”
“Hey.” Zane pulled Noah’s hands away from his face and looked into his eyes. His voice softened as he said, “I didn’t see it as complaining.”
“I appreciate that. Point being, though, you didn’t deserve to take the brunt of any mood still hanging on to me.”
Or any defensiveness I might have because of my own stupid attraction
, Noah added silently to himself.
“I’ll survive.” Zane turned Noah’s words back around on him, arching a brow. Then added, “Been doing it for a while already.”
“I guess you have at that.” Noah’s heart rate started to slow to normal, but he still couldn’t tear his gaze away from Zane. “Better than most,” he murmured, his admiration growing leaps and bounds for this young man.
“Thank you.” Pushing away from the wall opposite Noah, Zane jerked his thumb toward his bedroom door. “Do you want some dry clothes? I have some sweats that might be a bit snug, but will probably work.”
“You’re okay sparing them?” Noah asked. Damn, he knew the guy had been pushed out of his apartment with hardly any of his possessions. “I don’t want you cursing me tonight when the weather dips and you don’t have them.”
Zane chuckled, and the joyous sound reflected in his eyes too. “I promise I won’t.” He cheeks pinked a bit. “Duncan already gave Matt some dry clothes too.”
“I’ll take you up on the sweats then.” Noah became very aware of how his wet shorts clung to his legs, and he cringed. “Thank you.”
Pointing into his room one more time, Zane said, “They’re on the bed. Join us in the kitchen after you’ve changed.” With another fast grin, Zane trekked backward to the living area. “I already have supper going. It’s a good one too. Don’t be late.”
Smiling in return, Noah replied, “Looking forward to it,” unable to help his response. He always wanted to smile and laugh around Zane. The urge to touch him, even in innocence, constantly crackled in his fingers, pushing him to make contact.
Crap.
As Noah entered Zane’s bedroom, he cursed himself ten ways from Tuesday. How in the hell was he supposed to steel himself against Zane when the man was so fucking sweet and sincere at every turn? Not to mention goddamn sexy without even trying. He was … wonderful.
You have to stay away from him.
Noah groaned, even as he accepted the truth.
Get through dinner tonight, tell him where to find information online to help him with the repairs, and then keep your relationship restricted to the occasional phone call.
Noah didn’t have to like it, but that was what he had to do. With a grimace, he accepted his course.
After changing, Noah got up and dragged himself down the hallway, his body feeling heavy. The setting sun sparkling against the windows didn’t seem quite so warm or bright anymore. The sound of Zane’s laughter twisted a deep pain in Noah’s gut this time, rather than making him grin in return.
Fuck.
As Noah entered the kitchen, he plastered a fake smile on his face. He might as well start getting used to the loss.
* * * *
“So…” An hour later, on their walk around the lake back home, Noah slung his arm around his son’s shoulder. “Did you have fun today?”
“Yeah.” Matt shoved his hands into his pockets—well, Duncan’s pockets. They were the boy’s shorts, just as Noah still wore Zane’s sweats. “Duncan is nice. And I never met Hailey before, but she’s cool too. Even for just a little girl.”
With a chuckle, Noah squeezed his son’s shoulder and then gave him a noogie. “I’m sure Hailey will be happy to hear she’s all right—even if she is just a little girl.”
Slipping out of Noah’s hold, Matt gave Noah one of his familiar eye rolls. “Whatever. I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know.” Noah tugged his kid back to his side and gave him a squeeze. “I’m just teasing you.”
After shuffling along in silence for a moment, Matt pulled his stare up from the grass and met his father’s gaze. “They’re poor.” His voice was nearly silent. “You know that. Right?”
His chest suddenly constricting, Noah came to a stop and zeroed in on his son. “What would make you say that?”
“Nothing.” Matt shrugged. “They just are. I go to school with Duncan, even though we’re not in the same grade. Everybody knows he doesn’t have a mom or dad and that he doesn’t have any money.”
Sighing, Noah pulled Matt to his side and got them strolling again.
Christ. How much or little to say, without violating a family’s right to privacy?
“I suspect they struggle as a family,” Noah shared, “but I hope you don’t make fun of Duncan at school for what he doesn’t have, compared to what you and your friends do have.”
“I don’t, but I know some kids do.”
“I would hope you don’t associate with people who would bully him, and I’d hope if you were a witness to a situation like that developing, you would defend him.”
“I’ve never been around when it happened or anything,” Matt explained. “I’m just saying what I’ve heard.”
“It’s not cool to hurt someone’s feelings or try to make them cry just because they don’t have everything you do, or if they’re different.”
Matt rolled his eyes at Noah again, with even more petulance than before, if possible. “I know that, Dad. God.” The kid sounded downright offended by Noah’s little lecture.
Noah raised his hands in surrender. “Okay. Point taken. It was just a reminder.”
“Besides,” Matt glanced up, for the smallest split second, before he plastered his stare to the ground again, “I would defend him anyway, if I heard someone making fun of him, because I know what it’s like too.”
The unspoken
it
; Noah knew
it
all too well.
My
son takes shit at school for my being gay.
“I know, kid.” Noah’s voice roughened, thickened terribly. “I’m so sorry for that. You have no idea.”
“Mostly I ignore it. I know it’s dumb.” With his hands shoved in his pockets, and his shoulders hunched, Matt looked up at Noah, his brown stare surprisingly steady. “Seth says people are stupid about things they don’t know, and we can’t take it personally if they don’t want to know the truth about how you still take care of us, and how you still love Mom, even if we don’t all live together anymore.”
Noah skidded to a halt.
Fuck.
“Your brother said that?” His voice rose ridiculously.
Matt nodded, and his shaggy hair dipped across his eyes. “Yeah. He’s right too. I know it.” Matt began his shuffling walk again, and Noah moved slowly to stay at his side. “Sometimes it’s hard not to get in a fight to make the dickweeds shut up, though. But so far my friends have always been with me, and it helps to have them, just so I can stand up and call the other guys jerks, and then walk away.”
Shit.
His throat unbearably tight, Noah yanked Matt against him and hugged the breath out of the boy. “I’m real proud of you both.” He pressed his lips to the top of his son’s head. “Do you know that?”
“Daaaddd.” Matt squirmed and wiggled his way out of Noah’s arms, his cheeks burning red. “Cut it out.”
Noah hauled him back in and smacked a loud kiss on his cheek. “I can’t help it. I love you,” he kissed Matt on the head while tickling him, “love you,” he pecked another wet one on the other cheek, “love you.”
Matt twisted his way free again and shot Noah an exasperated glare. “You’re such a dork.”
Noah just grinned back at his son. “Then I’m a dork who loves my kid.”
“Whatever.” Impatience rang in Matt’s words, but he couldn’t completely hide the smile pushing at the edges of his mouth. “You’re worse than Mom.”
Yeah, Noah could admit, with his kids, he did devote himself to them fully, and he never shied away from affection. His father had been wonderful and loving too.
Yet another thing I patterned after my dad.
Noah looked at Matt, and he couldn’t imagine a world where he and Janice weren’t the two loudest cheerleaders and biggest support for their child. For both of their kids. Seth too. That dull, too-familiar ache started to creep up in Noah, but this time he yanked himself back into the present.
Stop moping about what happened this morning.
He had to get over his father and the distance between them.
Hell, no matter how kind Zane had been, Noah knew he had whined enough about his problems already today. So much so the guy probably thought Noah was a wimpy little bitch. After all, Noah only suffered a strained relationship with his parents.
Boohoo.
Yet there Zane was, having lost his mother and stepfather, and his full-time job, and his apartment, and he had to take care of his brother and sister—and he did it all without bemoaning his situation. It was no wonder Noah couldn’t stop thinking about the guy. Forget the sexiness, sweetness, and beautiful eyes; Zane was a fucking survivor in the truest sense of the word, and nothing was more attractive than someone capable of coping with every hardball life threw in his direction.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Stop it.
Noah could no more let himself drown in thoughts of Zane than he could sink into the loss of his relationship with his parents. Wishes for success with both were futile desires; he could have neither one in his life on any more than a superficial level from now on.
Right then, the sound of clomping footsteps on wood pulled Noah back to reality. They’d reached the cabin and Matt had employed his usual heavy foot up to the porch.
Just as Noah made to take the first step, Matt said, “Can I ask you a question, Dad?”
Noah leaned his hip against the stair railing. “Shoot.”