Chapter Seventeen
Aidan stared out at the ocean, inky black waves rising, falling, and crashing into the dunes as the tide rolled in under the full moon’s light. Into the phone at his ear, he recited Katie’s favorite bedtime story. He’d memorized most of it sometime around the fiftieth read. By now, closing in on one hundred repetitions, he knew the words by heart and most of his attention was on Walker making noise in the kitchen behind him—rustling around in the pantry, running water, clattering mugs, the whirring noise and beep of the microwave. After the day they’d had, after the horrible, black emptiness that had descended on him in the hospital, as dark and violent as the waves below, he needed the constant connection to the man moving about his condo. Since coming back to himself, to the present, in Walker’s arms, he hadn’t let his partner out of his senses’ reach.
And those senses, once restored, couldn’t let go of the afternoon’s trauma. One second, he’d recall the screech of tires and the smell of burnt rubber as Walker swung the Rover out of the path of the oncoming SUVs, and his head would pound with the remembered impact. The next, the ghost of Walker’s lips would whisper across his own and his stomach would flip, reacting to the phantom kiss. A kiss he’d forgotten those first few minutes of wakefulness in the hospital. The next, he’d recall the measured sound of his partner’s voice and the concerned look in his tired blue eyes as he’d coaxed him out of the corner of that room, when he’d been calling out for his late husband and former partner. The last, the boulder in his chest and gut as he’d collapsed in Walker’s arms, realizing his loved ones were gone. It was as if the past eight months had been honed into a single moment of grief and despair, drowning him under the tidal wave.
The same defeat colored his voice now, despite his effort to remain upbeat for Katie. Hip to the balcony rail, Aidan leaned heavily against it. The doctors had wanted to keep him in the hospital overnight, but he’d insisted on sleeping in his own bed. He was still feeling it, though. Holding the phone to his ear with one hand, he curled the other around his neck, massaging the lingering pain just above the collar of his T-shirt.
Shuffling feet alerted him to his partner’s approach and Aidan dropped his hand. Walker had removed the bandage at his temple, a bruise forming there around the gash held together by butterfly strips. The perfect façade marred just a little, but otherwise he was whole and here with him.
Walker set a mug on the wide stucco railing and laid two pills next to it, then made to retreat. Aidan shot out a hand and circled his wrist. Half on, half off the balcony, Walker looked to him for direction. Aidan wanted him closer, wanted to feel that big warm body sheltering his again, wanted that phantom kiss, the taste of life, to be real. With a slight tug, Aidan pulled him closer and Walker came at once, allowing Aidan to shift his weight from the railing to him. He paused briefly in his bedtime story to Katie to take the pills and chase them with coff—tea—which he tried not to taste as he swallowed down the meds. He pitched the rest of the revolting liquid over the railing and Walker chuckled, the soft rumbling noise from inside the broad chest drawing Aidan closer.
Continuing to drink from the other mug, Walker grew warmer with each sip, the heat radiating through his tee and into Aidan’s side. On the edge of his periphery, Walker’s free hand flailed, but once Aidan relaxed further into him, he skimmed it up his arm and over his shoulder, around to the back of his neck where he’d been rubbing earlier. Digging his fingers into the knot there, Walker massaged gently enough not to do harm yet firm enough to cause the muscle to kick and release. Aidan became putty in the other man’s hands, sinking fully into him, wrapping his dangling arm around his waist. They hadn’t been this close since the Tavern and it felt just as right now as it had then.
And just as wrong, but Aidan was rapidly losing the will to fight, especially once Walker abandoned his mug on the balcony and circled him with both arms, holding him loosely until he finished the bedtime story with a whispered, “The End.”
“Katie?” Aidan called for a response and hearing none, added, “Night, sweetie.”
He lapsed into Gaelic as he spoke to his mother next, letting her know he was okay and that they’d likely be delayed getting back. “Oíche mhaith, máthair,” he finished, clicking off the phone and setting it face down on the balcony railing.
When Aidan didn’t immediately move away, Walker gave him a tug and Aidan turned fully into him, wrapping his arms around his waist and burrowing against his chest. His breath hitched, his shoulders shook, and he fought not to choke on the strangle of memories and a too reminiscent present. He shouldn’t be here in another man’s arms, his partner’s, but he’d almost lost him. His mind, his body, his heart, before he’d really gotten a chance to know any. Nearly snuffed out the same way he’d lost the last man he—Aidan cut off the thought before it ran further, admitting instead that if he’d lost Jameson Walker today, it would’ve been a tragedy, any way he cut it.
Any way he lied to himself.
Walker cinched his arm around Aidan’s waist and threaded his other hand through his hair, soothing him. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
“Today was too close. If you’d turned like I said, if you hadn’t played it the way you did...” Aidan’s words trailed off as his hold tightened, pressing his face into Walker’s neck. The lingering aftershave and day-old scruff fired all his senses.
“Just doing my job.”
“You did a good job, better than I did.”
Walker palmed the side of his face. “We’ve been over this. There’s nothing you could have done. Don’t go back there. Leave the past where it belongs.”
Easier said than done. Aidan shook his head, his gaze drifting past Walker’s shoulder and out over the dark ocean. “The past was right there when I woke up in the hospital. I thought...”
“You were confused. It was understandable, given the circumstances.”
So willing to let him off the hook, but Aidan couldn’t let himself off so easily. His gaze swung back, meeting a strange mix of doubt and anticipation in Walker’s baby blues. “Was it understandable that I kissed you?”
“Who were you kissing?”
A spear lodged in Aidan’s chest. That was the last thing he expected Walker to say, the last impression he’d wanted to give him. When he’d first come to in the car, when he’d realized where and when he was, there’d been only one person’s life on his mind, only one person’s life he’d wanted so desperately to taste.
He laid his hands flat on Walker’s chest. “You, Whiskey. I was kissing you.” Walker’s heart pounded beneath his palms, and Aidan curled his fingers into the cotton of his tee, wishing he could reach inside and feel the beating pulse of that organ, the very evidence Walker was alive and whole.
“Tell me why then,” Walker said, “And I’ll tell you if it’s understandable.”
Leaning forward, Aidan laid the side of his face between his still-clenched hands, just above Walker’s heart, listening to the steady, reassuring rhythm. “Understandable,” he said after a moment. “Not the word I thought we’d use to describe our first kiss.”
Walker’s words rumbled beneath his ear. “You’d thought about it?”
Aidan chuckled without mirth. “Too damn much.”
“Why then, Aidan? Why today finally?”
Fingers uncurling, he flattened his palms over Walker’s now racing heart and leaned back, meeting the other man’s eyes, needing to dispel those doubts still swirling in his worried gaze. “Because you saved us. Because we were alive. Because I needed to remember what that felt like.” He’d been dead inside for months. Actually being near death had brought that fact into startling focus.
Walker pulled him back into his arms, cheek to cheek. “Understandable.”
“I need...” The corner of his mouth brushed Walker’s jaw.
“What do you need?” Walker angled his face in, more than a mere brush, noses nudging each other, mouths inches apart.
Life—big, beautiful life—and an end to the emptiness was right there for the taking.
Aidan’s hands drifted up his chest, coming to rest at the base of his neck, thumbs stroking his hammering pulse. “I need to feel alive again.”
Walker’s heartbeat kicked at the words, at the gentle caress. “Then kiss me, Talley,” he whispered, and Aidan wasted no time crushing their open mouths together, his tongue diving right in. Hauling Walker close, he angled his head as he licked, nipped and sucked, exploring every possible fit until he found the one that fused them together best. Fingers weaving through silky strands, he scraped his nails across Walker’s scalp, eliciting a shudder.
Aidan’s body reciprocated, trilling for more than just a kiss.
Reading correctly, Walker shuffled them back, pressing him against the balcony door, not hiding his body’s interest. Moaning, Aidan drove a hand down his backside, grabbing his ass, and Walker answered with a powerful thrust of his hips. Heat spiraled through Aidan, aimed straight for where their cocks were grinding together, his own unleashed desire equally apparent.
Walker snaked a hand under his shirt, ran it up his abs and chest, hot and greedy, and Aidan threw his head back on a gasp. His hand on Walker’s side clenched at the welcome attentions on his touch-deprived skin and then just as suddenly he was left cold and bereft, the branding touch and solid weight gone.
“Are you okay?” Walker asked, voice concerned as his hands skimmed just over Aidan’s clothes in a clinical manner. He must have misread the earlier reaction for pain, but the meds had dulled any aches Aidan should have been feeling while amplifying the rippling pleasure.
Aidan righted his desire-fueled gaze. “Don’t stop, Whiskey.”
Walker’s smirk hitched up one side of his mouth and Aidan grabbed his shirt again, yanking him back against his body with a groan. Bending his head, Walker ran his tongue along Aidan’s ear and nipped at the lobe. “What do you need, Irish? What do you want?”
There was only one possible answer to that complicated question. Skirting a hand between them, Aidan cupped him through denim. “You, Jamie,” he answered, with a slow, tortuous stroke down the impressive length. “All of you.”
Rocking back and grabbing him by the shoulder, Walker pulled him off the doorjamb and aimed them inside. Arms wrapped around him from behind, Walker yanked his shirt off over his head. Aidan was usually the one calling the shots during sex, but with one of Walker’s big hands grabbing greedily at his chest while the other worked his fly, he was too overcome with sensation to do anything but let his partner lead.
They kissed over his shoulder, hot, openmouthed, desperate, as they stumbled through the condo toward Walker’s bedroom. They made it as far as the dining room table when one of Walker’s roving hands dived inside his jeans and boxers, wrapped around his aching cock, and pulled it mercifully free. Skin caught against skin, but with one swipe across the tip, Walker had enough moisture to lessen the friction and glide smoothly, firmly, up and down. If Aidan had thought Walker’s hands on his upper body had been searing, stroking his cock was enough to make him lose his mind. Lost in sensation, Aidan’s head lolled from side to side on Walker’s shoulder. He rocked his hips, shoving his erection into Walker’s fist while grinding his ass against his groin.
Knees going weak, he threw out a hand, clutching at one of the dining chairs for support. Walker shifted, brought his free hand down on top of his and their entwined hands skirted off the chair to the table, slipping on papers and files until they found purchase on glass. Curling over his back, Walker kissed a path down his spine as his other hand continued to work his cock. Entranced by the wicked ministrations of Walker’s lips and tongue, by the steady, tortuous rhythm of his strokes, Aidan considered letting Walker jerk him off right here, but there was another emptiness growing inside him, one that demanded to be filled. He straightened and looked at Walker over his shoulder, confessing his need on a groan. “I want you inside.”
Walker’s eyes flashed and, for a second, Aidan thought Walker was going to take them to the floor right there. But then the haze cleared and he licked a path up the side of Aidan’s neck. “Stuff’s in my room.”
Pants and boxers falling, Aidan stepped out of them, turned in Walker’s arms, and latched on to his mouth again, taking his turn at control and moving them where they needed to go. Walker gave way, stumbling backward as Aidan tore off his shirt and pushed him toward the bedroom. The door caught their fall, and Aidan used the opportunity to explore. He coasted his hands over that beautiful big chest he’d admired in the showers the other day, his lips and teeth following in their wake, taking extra time on the interlocking N and C inked on his left pectoral.
Tattoos meant something. The Tar Heel logo was a symbol of Walker’s past, inked into the skin over his heart. Whatever he’d loved and lost back then made the man here today, and Aidan gave it the adoration it deserved before continuing to kiss and lick down Walker’s torso.
Unbuttoning his pants, Aidan got a single hand in, one long stroke down his length, before Walker pushed them off the door, tagged his kit off the dresser, and tossed it and him on the bed. So much for directing this endeavor, but watching Walker kick out of his jeans and boxer briefs, seeing him stand at the side of the bed—strong, lean, fully erect, so very alive—and smiling, Aidan shivered with wicked anticipation.
He arched his body. “Something funny?”
Putting a knee to the bed, Walker spread his legs and trailed fingers up the insides of his thighs. “I have a plan for those freckles, but it’ll have to wait.” Before Aidan could contemplate what that meant, Walker bent at the waist and put his mouth on his cock.
All rational thought fled. “Oh God,” Aidan moaned, eyes fluttering closed as his thighs tensed.
Walker held them apart as he licked up and down Aidan’s length, stopping at the top each time to circle the sensitive tip with this tongue. Aidan wanted more but didn’t have the words or mental capacity to string together the request. Walker, though, as they had been for weeks, was operating on the same wavelength. He checked his teeth, breathed out a hot gust that caused Aidan to shiver, then took him fully into his mouth, sealing his lips tight around his cock and sucking it deep, squeezing the tip in the back of his throat. Aidan bucked and shouted, begging for more. Always obliging, Walker slid up and down, breathing deep, tonguing the underside of the head on each pass and adding his hand as the pace of Aidan’s thrusting hips increased.
So lost in the trance of pleasure, Aidan was almost past the point of no return when the other emptiness reasserted itself, demanding to be quelled.
“Stop,” he gasped, repeated, and when Walker didn’t let up, reached down and raked his nails across the other man’s skull. Aidan’s cock slipped from his lips with a pop.
Walker settled back on his haunches, his gaze wandering, and Aidan’s body flushed under the heated stare, his cock standing at painful attention.
“What do you want, Irish?” Walker ran his hands over Aidan’s hips and under his ass, lifting him into his lap and nestling his erection along Aidan’s crack.
Walker knew exactly what he wanted, and fuck, the anticipation, the wanting, the end of the emptiness right there where he needed it most was killing him.
Aidan pressed his hips down on Walker’s straining length, gliding back and forth, and Walker’s head fell back on a moan. His cock swelled in Aidan’s crack and it was barely a minute before he shifted Aidan’s hips off his cock and grabbed a condom and lube out of his kit. He rolled on the latex, poured a dollop of lube in his palm, and slicked up his fingers and erection.
Aidan watched, groaning as Walker stroked himself, until he was silenced by Walker’s mouth kissing him deep and slick fingers sliding into his crease. Aidan tightened his arms around his neck. He wanted this too.
“This what you need, baby?” Walker’s fingers teased Aidan’s clenched hole.
Aidan shoved his ass back in answer.
Smiling against his lips, Walker pressed in with a finger and pain chased away Aidan’s pleasure.
“Relax,” Walker whispered, petting and teasing, before trying to push back in.
Another flare of pain and Aidan tensed further. “It’s been a while,” he mumbled into Walker’s neck.
Pulling back, Walker forced a meeting of eyes. “How long?”
“Eight months, twenty-seven days, three hours, give or take a few.”
Since his husband’s death. But he didn’t want to think of Gabe right now, of what he’d lost. He only wanted to think about the man in his arms, the life that had been saved, the emptiness he promised to fill.
“Why don’t you top?” Walker suggested, and Aidan shook his head on the pillow.
“No. I’m so tired of feeling empty. Please, Jamie, I need you inside. I need—”
“Hush, Irish.” He pressed his lips to Aidan’s. “I understand. I’ll give you what you need.”
Walker shifted them to their sides, pulling off the condom and gathering him into his arms again. They kissed, long, slow, and the comfort pouring out of Walker was palpable. His hands roamed slower, building the burn and coaxing. When he took Aidan in his hand again, his strokes mirrored the long, slow swipes of his tongue through Aidan’s mouth, devouring not in a frenzy but savoring every taste. Aidan’s hands clawed and wandered too, into his hair, down his torso, and over his ass before he threw a thigh over Walker’s hip to hold him close.
Rutting together in a steady, sensuous rhythm, Walker grabbed the lube again, slicked up his fingers, and made another pass at his hole. This time, after the sensuous buildup and added lubrication, there was only a moment of discomfort before Aidan’s muscles gave way. Walker pressed a finger inside, caressing and searching, and pleasure took hold.
“More,” Aidan begged. He arched his back and clasped their dicks in his hand, jerking them off together.
Adding a second finger, Walker stroked and stretched until Aidan was writhing on the edge of release. Only then did Walker pull back and Aidan watched with panting breaths and heavy-lidded eyes as he ripped open a condom with his teeth and rolled it down his length.
Pulling up his legs, Aidan spread himself and Walker ran his hands under his ass again, lifting and positioning. Then slowly, oh so slowly, he pushed past the weakened resistance and inside Aidan, inch by tortuous inch.
At the halfway point, Aidan gasped at the impending, welcome fullness and Walker looked up from where he’d buried his face in his neck. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” Aidan’s voice shook with the effort of staving off his orgasm, but the last thing he wanted Walker to do was stop. He curled up and claimed his mouth. “Keep going,” he breathed against Walker’s lips, arching his hips and leaving no option.
“Hold tight,” Walker said with a grin before he thrust deep, causing them both to shout. Seated firm, Walker ran one hand up his side to his shoulder, holding them steady as they picked up speed. With his other hand, he held Aidan’s cock against his abs, their thrusts grinding it against the hair there and his ribbed abdomen, giving Aidan all the friction he needed.
“Oh, God.” Head thrown back, Aidan writhed and arched, holding him by the ass and the biceps. “Harder, Whiskey.”
Aidan’s cock swelled as Walker thrust more roughly and increased the speed of his hand. “Now, Jamie, now,” he cried out.
Walker drove powerfully, far enough that he nudged Aidan’s prostate, and Aidan’s world exploded, come spurting over his abs and through Walker’s fingers. The clenching of his ass around Walker’s dick was all it took to send the other man careening over the edge after him.
Once he stopped shaking, Walker pulled out and flopped onto his back beside him. Aidan reached for a tissue from the box on the nightstand, handed it to Walker. He rolled off the condom, wrapped it and the previous one inside, and pitched the wad of paper and latex into the trashcan across the room.
“Nice shot,” Aidan said.
“I did win two national championships.” He snatched another tissue to clean up the mess on his stomach.
Aidan rolled onto his side and brushed Walker’s hand and the tissue away. Grabbing him by the hip, he aligned them front-to-front, ignoring the mess, and threw his leg back over Walker’s hip. The warmth between their bodies, the scent of release, was intoxicating and he didn’t want to let it go just yet.
“You’re already going to hurt.” Walker wrapped his arms around him, a smile in his voice. “You fall asleep like this, it’s going to make it worse.”
“I don’t care,” he mumbled. “I need this too.”
“All right, then. You know, that’s five times you’ve called me Jamie.”
Aidan chuffed. “Of course you’re counting. And it’s six. You missed one.” He kissed the tattoo once more and snuggled down. He had no idea where they went from here. But for tonight, he wasn’t empty; he was holding life in his arms. Walker dropped a kiss in his hair and Aidan took a deep, contented breath of ocean and sex, of them, memorized it, and tucked it away so no matter what happened, he’d always have tonight.