Safe in His Arms (11 page)

Devon’s face was one of horror and sympathy, but Casey ignored him and went on.

“When I was old enough, I willingly let someone do it to me again, but I was scared and tense. It hurt. Even though I wanted it, it still hurt. A while later I tried again, but this time the guy I was with spent plenty of time with me. He didn’t know about my past, but he knew I was nervous. We fooled around a lot of times before we took it further. He made sure I was relaxed—alcohol and a blow job for me helped a lot with that. He used plenty of lube, took his time, and made it fun. And guess what? It didn’t hurt.”

“No?” Devon looked hopeful.

“No. I liked it. I still like it. I like it a lot. So my advice to you is this—don’t rush, plenty of foreplay, and for God’s sake, do not skimp on the slick. He may need a little time when you first get in, but just wait for him to tell you he’s ready to continue, and then give him something to remember. Don’t forget you have hands. Use them on his dick and his body while you’re pumping, and he will be crying in ecstasy at the end.”

“Who will be in ecstasy?”

Lon’s deep voice from behind them made them both jump and spin around. Devon went bright red, but Casey smiled radiantly. “Hopefully me. Are you busy tonight?”

“No. Did you want to come over?” Lon asked.

“Yes. I definitely want to come over. Coming all over is my main goal.”

There was a splutter from Devon, but Lon just grinned in anticipation.

Chapter 7

L
ON
WONDERED
what the hell he was doing.

He’d spent most of the morning with Casey at the beach, which was nice. Fun. Relaxing.

Arousing.

The little shit was a total prick tease. Under the cover of the water, Casey had touched, tortured, and tormented poor Lon. Lon had grown wood that was so obvious, if he’d heard the call “Shark¸” he would’ve been hard-pressed whether to come out of the water and suffer the stares and embarrassment, or stay and have his leg bitten in two.

Lon never knew sun cream could be so arousing either. Spreading the cream over Casey’s back and legs was heaven. Having Casey put the cream on his back had been ecstasy. Watching Casey rub the cream into his own chest…. Well, shit. Casey laughed when Lon tried to casually drape his spare towel across his lap to hide his reaction.

Devon eagerly lined up for Lon to put cream on his back, but the keep-away vibe that Ash was transmitting loud and clear had Lon placing the cream in Casey’s hand instead. By 11:00 a.m. the sun was so fierce they had packed up and left the beach. Casey was eager to head directly back to Lon’s place and spend the whole afternoon in bed, but it was too damn hot. In the end he’d gone with his friends—since their house had air-conditioning—and Lon went to the gym.

It didn’t help.

He lifted weights until his muscles were jelly, but he still couldn’t stop the anticipation of Casey spending the night again. Lon wanted so badly to fuck him, but that had its own set of problems. Lon worked at the gym machines and stewed over what he knew about Casey’s past.

He’d been raped by his own father. He’d been fourteen. His father had taped it. His father was in prison and not only for that single episode. Casey had said
my father’s videos.
Videos. As in plural. Not just one. But multiple. One did not just wake up one morning and decide to rape his own son and film it. There had to be many things leading up to that.

Casey’s voice echoed to him as he’d said it that night.
I had things done to me.

Lon’s throat closed as he thought about that. What things? How did Casey live with it? He obviously still had nightmares, and a simple news report sent him spiraling into a panic attack. What would indulging in full anal sex do? Wouldn’t that bring back memories? Would Casey have an anxiety attack from letting Lon inside his body? Would he regress? Would he cry?

Ronnie had some mental health issues when he was growing up. Overreaction and poor impulse control were the biggest problems. Their mum had taken him to numerous health professionals during his teens. Ronnie was fine most of the time, but when he was out of control, it was Lon who could bring him back. Lon was the voice of reason to Ronnie’s insanity. Some doctors tried to put a label on it—schizophrenia, bipolar, adolescent depression. Finally one doctor noticed certain facial characteristics and asked about the pregnancy and Ronnie’s birth.

At that time fetal alcohol syndrome research and effects had been severely underrated in Australia. Many doctors dismissed the disorder, or struggled to diagnose it. Ronnie had probably been exposed to large amounts of alcohol while his mother was pregnant, and this caused certain physical and developmental problems. Facts and information about FAS had come a long way since they were teenagers, but back then they just did the best they could for Ronnie. A lot of teachers and medical professionals dismissed Ronnie’s problems as simply another Aboriginal kid acting out, but once they had some help, it was obvious that there was more to it. There were some drugs he could take to control the mood swings, but otherwise he simply needed to work on his behavior.

What a thing to tell a fourteen-year-old kid. Sorry, because your biological mother was a drunk, you’re going to be fucked up for the rest of your life.

The only good thing? Ronnie hadn’t suffered alone. They shared a bedroom, were in the same class at school, had the same circle of friends, and did everything together. Lon was Ronnie’s grounding stone. Lon was the mature one who thought things through and tempered Ronnie’s reactions.

It had been hard at times, but that’s what being a brother was all about. Did Lon want to sign up for that again? He’d failed Ronnie, after all, look where the guy was. What if he failed Casey? Lon’s life was about being carefree, without strings. Did Casey need strings?

Lon knew he should be pushing Casey away, saying that he wasn’t interested, that it was too much trouble. But instead here he was obsessing about the guy. Why?

He thought about the sex—at least the sex they’d had so far. It was great. It was better than Lon had had in a long time. But was that all it was? Lon thought about Casey blowing him in the shower room that first night. Casey was lucky he’d chosen someone with a conscience, like Lon. He shuddered to think what might have happened if Casey had chosen unwisely.

Then there was the time Casey burst into Lon’s place and curled up in his lap. If he was honest with himself, Lon enjoyed it. He enjoyed being the center of someone’s life, the rock, the anchor to cling to in the storm. It was nice to be wanted and fantastic to be able to chase away the ghosts following Casey.

He felt like Superman.

But what if anal sex made Casey feel uncomfortable? What if he freaked? What if they
never
had anal sex?

Lon relaxed under the tepid water in the gym’s shower and contemplated a near future without anal sex. If Casey wanted to make it a long-term relationship, then Lon was certainly willing. But what if they could never proceed past touching and sucking? Opening his eyes against the bright lights of the changing room, Lon focused on the body showering in the cubicle across from him. The gym had separate stalls but they’d taken the doors off the showers since guys had been using them as hotel rooms. Of course some guys still had sex in the showers—they just didn’t care who watched—but it had certainly stopped a lot of men indulging their baser wants under the water. The guy across from Lon was a regular at the gym with a girl’s name. Sally? Sonny? Something like that anyway. Lon had seen him around before, but other than a nod in acknowledgement as their paths crossed, they hadn’t really spoken.

The guy was showering with his back to Lon, so it was easy to check out his glutes and fantasize going in deep. Would Lon be able to go without that?

Sally turned around, and Lon found himself staring at pubic hair and penis.
Shit!
He flicked his eyes upward and found Sally giving him a “what the fuck, man?” look. Lon quickly spun back and turned the shower off with a wrench of his hand. He roughly toweled off and strode into the changing area.

Soon he was joined by the other man, who was still drying off. He said, “Sorry, I just don’t swing that way.”

Surprised that the man was talking to him, Lon swung around. “Huh?”

“I’m not gay,” Sally said somewhat apologetically. “Nothing against you. It’s just not my scene.”

“Oh,” Lon floundered for something to say. “No problem. I wasn’t really going to… I mean, I was just looking. Habit.” He shrugged and gave a chuckle. “If you’d given me a signal then heck yeah, but you’ve never indicated you’d be willing to take things further, so I didn’t say anything.”

Sally nodded understandingly, not offended at all. Some straight guys got all bitchy if you didn’t make a move on them, as if being gay meant you had to come on to every penis you came across.

“I’m Salvatore, by the way. That’s why they call me Sally.”

“Lon.”

They silently began dressing until Sally said, “Can I ask you a personal question?”

“I guess.”

“Is there a reason you’re gay? I mean—did something turn you off women? Or did you always like men?”

It was an interesting question and Lon wasn’t embarrassed or insulted. He wished more people would try to be understanding. “I think I was just born gay, you know? I remember looking at girly mags when I was younger and feeling funny at the sight of tits and clits. It just felt… too personal to be looking at that stuff. At least with guys I knew what to do with the bits. I’ve always been attracted to men. Women… ah, well. They’re nice, some of them. But I never had the urge to be naked with them.”

Sally was nodding, trying to comprehend. “So you’ve never been with a woman? Why not?”

“Have you ever felt the want to drop to your knees and suck dick?” Lon replied. “No? Why not? ’Cause you’re not gay. I’ve never felt the need to get a woman naked because I
am
gay. Same coin, different side.”

“Is it just the anal sex bit you like?” Sally blushed a little as he asked, but he was earnest. “I’ve had anal with women and it’s similar but not the same. I guess it’s really the naughtiness of the act I like. Is that why you like guys?”

Lon sighed as he tugged his shirt on. “Nah, man. It’s the whole thing—dick, whiskers, muscles, testosterone, chest hair. Being gay isn’t like looking for a manly girl or a feminine guy. It’s the whole experience. Do you reckon you could close your eyes and fuck another guy, pretending he was female? They don’t smell the same or act the same. Their body feels different, their reactions are different, their emotional needs are different. Even if I didn’t have anal with guys, I’d still want to be with them in other ways.”

He stopped and thought about what he just said.
Fuck! Well, I guess that answered my question about Casey.
If there was no anal, then he would still be interested.

“Do you bottom?”

The questions were pointed, but Lon had no reason to hide. “I have at times.”

“I thought guys were either tops or bottoms. Aren’t the little guys usually into the receiving?”

That made Lon chuckle. “Nah, man. You can never tell by looking. For some it’s a matter of power, but I’ve known plenty of guys who want to run the show but still be the bottom. There are different issues with every guy. Some never bottom. Some never top. Some never bottom in a particular position. Some never do it at all. You can still make love without penetration. It’s just dependent on the guy.”

“Oh. So do you have a boyfriend, then?”

Lon gave half a shrug. “There’s a guy I’m interested in. As to where we go with it—I dunno.”

Sally had finished dressing and was combing his hair as Lon pulled on his shoes. “You’re lucky, man. Being with a girl more than three times usually means she’s looking for a wedding ring and babies. It’s hard to find a girl to keep it casual but monogamous.”

“Being gay doesn’t mean that you sleep around, Sally. There are plenty of guys who want the forever-love relationship—monogamy, the big house, pets, someone to grow old with.”

“Do you want that?”

Lon slumped down on the bench seat and looked at nothing on the opposite wall. “I dunno. Loving someone can suck badly. They can make bad choices that fuck you up badly inside. I guess it’s pretty awesome to be that someone’s special deal, to be the center of someone’s world and to focus all your attention on someone you truly love, but what happens if it goes down the gurgler? People in love can do some pretty awful things. They can ruin their lives, they can run away from everything. Fuck—what happens if they die on you?”

Sally pressed his lips together as he gathered his gear. “Then you get drunk, organize a funeral, and mourn. Loving someone for even one day should be worth more than a lifetime of regret.” He clasped Lon’s shoulder as he walked past and left the gym without saying anything more.

T
HE
F
REO
Doctor was late, so Lon stood in front of the fan in his annex and stripped off his clothes. The temperature was still in the high thirties, even though it was nearly four o’clock. Casey told him he would be over at about six, so he had two hours to rustle up something for dinner and anticipate the evening. Clad only in blue briefs, Lon pulled a couple of things out of the fridge for dinner. Steak, potatoes, and some frozen greens would do. He set them on the counter, then returned to stand in front of the fan for another minute. The annex’s window shades were still rolled down to keep the sun out, so Lon stripped his briefs off as well and let his junk feel the cooling air. Then he headed to the kitchen to prepare his dinner.