Twenty-Seven

Seth

 

The basement of the courthouse was a cool haven from the heat stalled over Washington and specifically in the Methow Valley. Seth would never admit it to Sacha, but he had a slight headache from the evening before. Note to self: eat pizza first, drink beer second, especially when they are strong local IPAs.

He chugged from the bottle of water Sacha had kindly left with him. A droplet escaped, rolling down his chin before he swiped at it. Had he tried to grope Sacha in public last night? Things were blurry; he’d been too hot, hungry, and dehydrated for three strong beers.

“Jesus Christ, what was I thinking?” he groaned, covering his burning face with his hands, recalling leaning close and, yes, running his hand along Sacha’s thigh. Probably would have done more if Sacha hadn’t gently put a stop to it. His face grew even hotter, and Seth wondered if it was possible to burst into flames from embarrassment. Sacha hadn’t said anything this morning, but Seth owed him an apology.

He was carefully leafing through the enormous handwritten census ledgers used to record births and deaths in the county through 1960. He dragged his finger down the pages and pages of delicate handwriting, stopping when Owen Penn finally made his appearance. December 7, 1919. There was little doubt in Seth’s mind that he’d found the right one. There were two older sisters, Erin and Alice. Reading farther, the records for 1930 indicated that ten years after Owen’s birth, Pearl had made her appearance in the world.

It was difficult not to get caught up in the genealogical history of the entire county. He found himself emotional reading the death records of babies who only lived a few days and the mothers who died not long after, or along with, them. Or it could have been the hangover. He chugged more water.

Owen did not appear in the local census records for 1940 or 1950, but his death wasn’t reported either. Seth did learn that Erin and Alice both married and moved into different households in the 1930s. Alice’s death was recorded in 1938. Erin Penn became Erin Addison, passing away in 1973.

Caving, he signed up for a thirty-day free trial of the online ancestry site. His cranky laptop was taking forever to load, but eventually he would be able to look ahead and backfill the information not found at the courthouse. Erin Addison had one child, Charles Mason Addison, born in 1936.

Owen was alive as late as 1942, because the postcards were postmarked through March of that year. He would have been twenty-seven. Had he left the country to serve on the battlefields of WWII? Possibly. Seth hated that the smiling young men in the picture might have died far away from home and each other. He knew it was ridiculous, but he’d created a little story to go along with the photograph, and either of them dying in WWII kind of ruined the ending. A search of military records found nothing. No Theodore Garrison or Owen Penn. There were lots of Garrisons from southern states, and even a few pictures, but none of the images seemed close to the one he already had.

That left Pearl. Pearl could still be alive.

By the time he finished with the 1960 ledger, Seth had found no record of Pearl’s marriage or death. She continued to be recorded living at the same address she’d been born into. In another, larger, town, it would have been ridiculous for Seth to consider the possibility that Pearl Penn still lived in her family home. In a small town like Twisp, with the right support, it was entirely possible. She would be eighty-seven, if she was still alive.

“You done yet?”

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Seth’s heart about exploded out of his chest. “Could you at least warn a guy, mutter or squeak or maybe breathe like a normal person?” He’d made Sacha leave earlier because he was pacing like a caged animal, creeping Seth out every time he looped around the room to come up behind him without making any sound—like right now. Sacha was as interested as Seth in the photograph, but he couldn’t sit still to save his life. Seth wondered what it had been like for his partners to be on stakeouts with him… if he’d had to do that sort of thing… and decided it had probably been torture for everyone involved.

“Maybe if you paid attention to your surroundings you would be aware when there were strangers around,” Sacha snarked.

“One, you’re not a stranger. Two, what crawled up your butt?” Seth turned to see Sacha holding a giant to-go cup of coffee. His irritation fled. “Is that for me?”

Sacha grinned, and Seth blinked. “I thought you might need it.”

“Yessss.” Seth gulped the coffee, even though it was hot enough to scald. It didn’t matter; the caffeine was a blessing.

“You find anything?”

“It’s what I haven’t found. I think Pearl, the youngest sister, may still be alive and living at the same address. I was going to look it up in the local phone book.”

“I’ll do it.” Sacha strode over the desk where the volunteer librarian was lingering, to request a phone book, Seth supposed. Soon he was deep in conversation. The librarian was nodding and speaking in hushed tones before pulling out a phone book and flipping through the pages, clearly searching for something specific.

Sacha leaned on the counter chatting casually while she searched. Her face lit up, and she turned the book so Sacha could see what she was pointing at. He nodded and grinned back at her, jotting down the information before returning to Seth. The librarian was left at the counter basking in the remnant of Sacha’s attention.

In-charge Sacha was as hot as building-remodeler Sacha, as driving Sacha, as relaxing-in-the-backyard Sacha. As kissing-under-the-stars Sacha. Seth shut his eyes against the images pummeling his brain. At this point, everything Sacha did was hot, sexy, and compelling. Seth had to remind himself not to get attached. No doubt there was also a leaving-now Sacha, and Seth wasn’t up for that kind of heartache.

“Up for a drive? Janice,” Sacha indicated the librarian watching from behind the counter, “says that Pearl is still alive. Her nephew moved her to an assisted living home in Wenatchee a few years ago.”

Seth called ahead before they hit the road. Pearl would be happy to see them, but she had a social that afternoon and an appointment in the morning.

“Let’s drive partway today and the rest tomorrow?” Sacha suggested.

Sacha seemed particularly amenable today. Seth wasn’t sure what had brought about the change, but he liked it.

They’d checked out of the motel earlier. One night in their own private remake of The Shining was enough. Although waking up wrapped around Sacha’s big body hadn’t been a hardship.

Sacha’s truck rumbled down the highway. They stopped at a little grocery and picked up some water and sandwiches to eat along the way.

“Look up somewhere to stay in Leavenworth. The cashier told me it’s a nice place.”

Seth narrowed his eyes. Who was this Sacha? The grumbly one he knew how to handle. Sacha being pleasant and planning ahead where to stay put Seth off balance. Nevertheless, he did as asked, quietly researching places to stay on his phone.

“How about the Bavarian Ritz? It’s downtown and doesn’t look like a getaway for meth cookers.” Ha, no, it looked like someone’s German granny had been in charge of room decorations. “They offer free parking and Wi-Fi.”

Leavenworth was originally a fall and winter retreat, but town planners had managed to parlay the quaint Bavarian-style town into year-round tourism. Seth’s personal favorite was the nutcracker museum. Because… nutcracker. The more he thought about it, the harder he laughed. Sacha looked at him, shaking his head.

They’d arrived a little early for check-in, and the hotel staff directed them along Front Street for a walking tour. Of course, they stopped and had a couple beers at the closest beer garden.

Something hummed between them. Their shoulders bumped together, as if Sacha was walking closer than normal. Their hands occasionally brushed against each other while they meandered along. Seth’s body felt hot and tight with awareness of Sacha, of where he was, of his… everything. He had to keep reminding himself he couldn’t walk around with a semi-erection, but Sacha was making it…difficult.

In fact, Sacha was making a lot of things difficult. It was harder and harder keeping things light between them. Seth was so lost in thought he hadn’t realized they’d made their way back to the hotel. Trailing after Sacha through the lobby, he wondered what the hell was going on, and if he would survive it.

Something like the ominous pressure of the calm before a storm crowded against his thoughts. He wasn’t sure if what he was feeling was good or bad. Sacha wasn’t like anyone Seth had ever been attracted to before. He had a lethal innocence. Sacha made Seth nervous; he was somehow exposing parts of Seth he wasn’t certain should see the light of day. There was a reason he preferred casual.

Sacha opened the door to their room. “Jesus Christ. This makes me wish I was color blind,” he muttered.

Seth peered over Sacha’s shoulder. “Well, we can always go back out for drinks. I’m sure we can reach a stage where even this,” he waved a hand toward the four-poster bed covered with a vomit-inducing canopy, “can be ignored.”

There was one bed. He knew he’d selected a double room. “I’ll call down about the room; they must have made a mistake.”

“Nope.” Sacha dropped his duffel to the floor. “I’ve had enough beer for now. Enough to take the edge off, but not enough to make me forget how much I want to have sex with you.”

Seth felt his eyes widen. “Oh?” he barely managed to squeak out, his throat inexplicably dry even after two beers. Completely unprepared for this… onslaught. His body was ready, though; the semi-erection he’d been quelling all afternoon throbbed against the zipper of his cargo shorts. Fucking hell.

“Yeah,” Sacha confirmed. “Is that okay?” Not really a question. Sacha did that thing when stalking into the middle of the hotel room, a large feline, his prey in sight and unsuspecting. Or suspecting and mesmerized. Holy fuck.

Seth opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. He nodded instead.

“Take your clothes off.”

Apparently when Sacha wanted something, it was full on, one hundred percent. If there had been air in Seth’s lungs, it was gone now. Shit, he’d never been nervous before; he wasn’t going to let nerves stop him now. With thick, stumbling fingers, he loosened his laces and tugged off his boots. The shorts and T-shirt followed, landing somewhere on the floor. They could’ve landed on the moon for all Seth cared.

When he looked up from his task, Sacha was naked. Naked and waiting impatiently. Seth swallowed. Sacha was a big man, and he seemed somehow larger with his clothes off. His broad chest tapered to a waist no one would call narrow, but he was fit. Solid. Perfectly proportioned. Thick thighs brushed with dark hair, unh. Sacha’s cock, semi-erect and uncut, hung heavily against his inner thigh as he waited for Seth to finish his perusal.

“Come closer. I need to touch you.” Jesus Christ, if Sacha didn’t touch him he was going to explode. Or implode. One of the two. Both.

Sacha ran his hands from Seth’s shoulders to the top of his ass; kneaded his cheeks. Seth shuddered in Sacha’s arms.

“I dreamt about you last night. About this. Touching you.” Sacha demonstrated by skimming his hands back up, cupping Seth’s nape and lowering his lips against Seth’s. “I’ve been dreaming about you a lot.”

Holy fucking fuck. Seth’s cock pulsed again; he knew without looking that precome had dribbled out the tip, leaving a wet streak along the top of Sacha’s thigh. Sacha’s tongue licked at the seam of his lips, and Seth opened. They stood together, simply kissing. Learning each other. Sacha sucked on Seth’s tongue before licking the roof of his mouth and nipping his lower lip. He licked Seth’s lip again before returning to the business of sucking Seth’s brains out through his mouth. He heard a groan and wasn’t sure if it was his own or Sacha’s.

Seth shuffled closer, putting a hand on Sacha’s chest, right where his tattoo marked him.

Sacha grabbed his face for another almost-punishing kiss. It was excruciating, the possessive, gentle touch with steel behind it.

They tumbled onto the bed, all arms and legs and caresses. Frantic, because Seth felt like he could come from merely this, but also limitless, a bliss they could both ride on for an eternity. Sacha was disconcertingly gentle. Seth half expected to be ravaged, but instead he was being handled like something precious. Cupping Seth’s face with his large, warm palms, Sacha kissed him and held him. Sacha’s weight kept him from floating away.

Sacha sat up, his knees straddling Seth’s hips, holding him a willing prisoner. He was divine and decadent, his massive chest covered with a mat of intermingled silver and black hair. His nipples were dark, and Seth wanted to lick and suck.

As Sacha leaned down so he could whisper into Seth’s ear, their cocks brushed against each other again, making Seth’s hips jerk upward. Sacha grinned evilly.

“You like that? I hope so, because I want more.” Even his whisper was decadent.

He nodded. Mute was, apparently, the new thing.

“I hope this isn’t presumptuous; I bought supplies while I was walking around today. Because all I could think of was fucking you, being inside you, feeling you come around me again.” Funny, he didn’t sound apologetic, and, no, Seth didn’t care.

“Please, yes… that.” Seth knew he was begging. Didn’t. Fucking. Care.

The assault was gentle and overwhelming. Seth laughed at himself for, weeks earlier, imagining he would be the one to teach Sacha the finer nuances of sex. He groaned when Sacha tweaked his nipple before continuing downward to caress his cock, a soft touch that sent him almost into orbit.

Sacha’s hand lingered there for a few minutes, stroking him, keeping him begging for more, harder, for Sacha to fuck him into the mattress.

“What do I need to do to shut you up?” Sacha muttered as he scooted down the bed. Green eyes blazed up through soot-colored lashes, and all Seth could do was moan because Sacha chose that moment to suck him into his hot, wet mouth with no warning.

“Fuck!”

“I must be doing it wrong if you can still speak.” Sacha sucked harder, opening his throat, and Seth felt his cock bumping against the back of it. The sensation was close to too much and close to making him come. It couldn’t be over yet.

“Stop, please—I mean, don’t stop. Fuck me already.” Seth was barely able to rasp out the demand.

Sacha released him with a wet pop. Seth’s painfully hard cock dripped onto his stomach, spit and precome together forming a small pool.

“I’ll fuck you when I am good and ready.”

Next thing Seth knew, Sacha’s thick finger was tapping at his hole. Seth shamelessly let his legs fall farther apart, begging for more, pushing against the finger. Sacha pushed in, Seth gasping at the slightly dry burn. It was good; it made him yearn for more and gave him a chance to gather his wits.

“Hurry up.”

“You’re talking again.” Sacha pushed his finger further inside, seeking Seth’s prostate. “Save the talking for later.” Sacha emphasized his point by pressing a little further and starting to add another finger. Seth writhed and pushed down, forcing the fingers farther into his ass, loving the sensation of being full. Of being thoroughly fucked.

“Could you come from this?”

Seth focused on the words instead of his ass. “Uh, fuck, yeah, but…”

“Don’t worry. I wondered for next time.” Oh, fucking hell, that nasty grin.

He whined when Sacha took his fingers away. Soon enough he found himself on his stomach with his ass in the air. Cool gel slipped between his cheeks, and he arched his back as far as he could, shamelessly needy.

Two of Sacha’s fingers were nothing like his cock. Seth breathed out and relaxing as much as he could while Sacha slowly pushed his condom-covered dick into Seth’s ass.

“Move already; you’re not going to break me,” Seth huffed.

“Patience is a virtue.”

One Seth didn’t have when it came to sex. Before Sacha he’d been more of an “If it feels good, why slow down” kind of guy.

Semi-reluctantly, he gave himself over to Sacha. The pace started slow, a torturous drag against his prostate every… fucking… time. Seth was panting, and his dick was leaking copious amounts of precome onto the hideous bedspread. Soon, though, Sacha was pounding into him, pulling his hips back to meet his own. Seth had been hovering on the edge of orgasm for what felt like hours, and a more insistent tingle began at the base of his spine. He tried to shove a hand under his body so he could jack himself, but Sacha swatted it out of the way.

“Fuck, please, I need—need to touch myself.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you. I promise.”

Sacha sat back on his haunches, dragging Seth with him so he was quite literally impaled on his lap. The pressure was intense and immediate. All Sacha did was reach around with a hard stroke along his pulsing, engorged cock, and Seth was coming. Coming so hard it fucking hurt. He could feel Sacha inside, through the condom, pulsing against his inner walls. A little more come dribbled out of his spent penis. Seth fell forward onto his elbows. Sacha ran his hands along his ass, massaging him, tickling his lower back.

“Me, inside you, fucking beautiful,” Sacha whispered so quietly Seth almost didn’t hear it.

Seth couldn’t bring himself to care when he collapsed in the wet spot; he had nothing left. Sacha had fucked him into a coma.

Later, when he could use his lungs for breathing and his mouth for verbalizing, Seth rolled over. Sacha lay on his stomach along the edge of the bed, watching Seth with an unreadable expression.

“That was…”

“Yeah, it was.” Sacha turned his head, his smile crooked and endearing.

“I don’t think I can move, or feel my legs.”

“Heh.”

Seth shut his eyes.

He must have drifted for a while. The next thing he was aware of, Sacha was coming back into their room loaded with bags of food that smelled delicious. He’d even brought a growler of something to wash down the sausages and buns.

“Oh my god, I’m starving,” Seth said around a mouthful of bratwurst.

“The front desk said these were the best in town.”

Seth watched in fascination as Sacha ate a sausage in three bites, then reached for another.

“How do you do that?”

“What, eat? It takes a lot to maintain this manly physique.” Sacha crumpled the paper plate and tossed it into the small trash can before heading to the bathroom.

Fuck coma, food coma. Whatever. Once Sacha was back, Seth took a quick shower and dug out a clean T-shirt to wear. Sacha sat watching him from the uncomfortable-looking settee, his ankle crossed over one knee, while flipping through channels on the TV.

“G’night,” Seth offered, before crawling under the covers and pulling a pillow over his head. He was drifting along a lazy river of sex and a full stomach when the other side of the mattress dipped from Sacha’s weight.

The bed shifted, and a heavy arm draped across Seth’s waist. Sacha dragged him close, tucking Seth’s head under his chin. His heart leapt with wanting so badly, wanting what Sacha seemed to be offering. But Seth knew, if there was one lesson he had learned in this life, what the cosmos gave with one hand it took away with the other. Sacha would leave, because one way or another everyone did. It was inevitable, so inevitable that Seth had quit fighting it.

It took Seth a long time to go to sleep. At some point he was going to have to tell Sacha whatever they were doing couldn’t continue. Sooner rather than later.