Chapter Sixteen

Cam watched as Jean-Paul crawled back up the bed to kiss him, and everything primal in him roared like some kind of wild beast. He’d never been in a committed relationship before, but he knew what he had always wanted was a man he would fall for and stay in love with forever. And as he reached for his handsome lover, he figured he had probably finally gotten his wish. He pulled Jean-Paul down to his mouth so he could plant a kiss of possession and surrender on him. He didn’t understand the feelings he was having, to own this man, mark him as his, and yet to give him anything he wanted, anywhere he wanted it, at any time. How did a guy submit while dominating? How did you go between taking and giving, demanding and surrendering?

“We’ve been here twice before,” he whispered, his voice wrecked by lust and love. “Third time’s the charm?”

He didn’t wait for an answer, but flipped Jean-Paul so he was lying beneath him. He had to say the words, even if Jean-Paul wasn’t there yet. If this wasn’t love making him at once confused and certain, then he didn’t know what it was. Because it was more than the need riding him even now to thrust into Jean-Paul’s body, to take possession of it, to own his ass, to show him who he belonged to. It was more than the affection that made him admire his man’s elegance and grace, and enjoy his sense of humor. It was more than sympathy for the terrible losses he had suffered.

What was welling up inside him as he kissed Jean-Paul was like honey on toast, or warm sunshine on a cool day. It whipped through him like the energy in a thunderstorm, savage and powerful. His body ached with desire, his limbs trembled with lust, his heart settled in contentment. He had to finish what he had started all those weeks ago, the very first time he had kissed Jean-Paul, after he urged him to say yes to his seduction. He had known, deep in his bones, that there was something different, something special about the man in his arms. He had to tell him.

“Jean-Paul, you drive me crazy, in the best way possible. Look at me. I need to tell you something.”

Jean-Paul had been nibbling on his neck with a kind of feverish hunger, and Cam was fighting to stay focused on what it was he needed to say. He loved Jean-Paul’s hands and his mouth on him. He loved feeling those soft lips, those bright teeth, that warm wet tongue sucking and licking and tasting him. He wanted more of it. So, he needed to hurry up and speak his piece. He waited until Jean-Paul looked him in the eye, his own gaze drowsy with affection and desire.

“I know you’ll probably think this is too soon, that we don’t know each other well enough, that I’m probably crazy to think this is real, but the truth is, I fell for you weeks ago, and have just not been admitting it. Je t’aime, Jean-Paul, de tout mon coeur.”

He should be used to the silences with which Jean-Paul often greeted his statements, but tonight Cam’s heart stuttered as he waited for anything to indicate his lover had even heard him. Nothing...Jean-Paul just studied him, as though he were an oddity in a museum. His eyes were impossibly dark and difficult to read in the muted light of the bedroom. He had also stopped distracting Cam with the barely there kisses and sensuous licks and nips.

Had he bared his soul for nothing? Was Jean-Paul trying to find a kind way to tell him he didn’t feel the same way? Cam searched his face frantically for any sign of what he might be thinking, and just when he was going to try to retract his confession, or at least qualify it, Jean-Paul said, “Why must you always steal my thunder?”

Not at all the response he was expecting. And though he was trying really hard to look affronted, Cam could see his lips twitching in an effort not to smile.

“How exactly did I do that?” he asked, relieved that at least Jean-Paul wasn’t retreating.

“I was supposed to go first.”

It took Cam a long moment to get what he was saying, and Jean-Paul was grinning when he dragged his face down and kissed him hard. He gave as good as he got, answering Cam’s hungry exploration of his mouth with his own. Their tongues clashed and dueled, sliding around each other before they sucked and moaned in unison.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?” Cam bit his chin as he reproved him.

“You’re not allowed to die from love, mon cheri,” was his laughing retort.

And there it was again, the declaration that Jean-Paul had yet to put into those three precious words. He could wait to hear them, though, because he could see and feel the love vibrating off his man in waves. He kissed him again, spreading his legs so he could slot his body between them, rolling his hips against Jean-Paul’s, riding his hard cock from below.

“If you keep this up, we will not make it to the finish line in the way I have been wanting to do for so long,” Jean-Paul complained, though he kept thrusting his hips up to meet Cam’s own.

“We have two days and nights to get there, babe. Just let me feel you like this for a little bit, okay? If you feel like cumming, cum for me. Don’t hold back. I want to feel you on my skin in every way I can. You can dirty me up any time you want to.”

For answer, Jean-Paul wrapped his legs around Cam’s ass and pulled him closer with his feet.

“That’s right, baby. Take what you want from me. Show me how much you love me back.”

Precum leaked from their cock heads and Cam reached between them to spread it over them, easing their way over each other as they stroked themselves higher.

“You feel so fucking good, babe.”

Cam’s excited pants were met with inarticulate French mumblings, and then he felt himself sliding to the side as Jean-Paul pushed him away.

“I do not wish to wait a moment more. I need you, Camden. I need you inside me. I need to surround you, to claim you as mine.”

He moved away, unaware of the powerful effect his words had on Cam, who was shaking so hard he had to hold on to the sheets to ground himself. He watched Jean-Paul collect lube and condoms before returning to him. He had no strength to do more than observe as Jean-Paul slicked up his aching cock and then prepped his own ass for Cam to take. He turned so Cam could see what he was doing, and the sight was going to kill him. Fire licked over his skin, burning him up where he lay watching Jean-Paul get ready for him.

Moving up behind him, Cam squeezed some of the lube onto his own fingers and slid them in to join the two that Jean-Paul had inside.

“Oh, mon dieu! This is so good, Camden, so good!” He turned his head and begged, “Embrasses-moi!”

Cam slid closer and gave him the kiss he wanted, losing himself in the sweetness of it. Then he brushed his hand away and reached in with three fingers to drag them against his sweet spot. Jean-Paul groaned, and Cam did it again and again, bringing him to the edge of orgasm but not letting him go over. And all the while, he stretched him and got him ready to take him.

“Camden, please! Je t’en prie. It is enough.”

Jean-Paul’s ragged pleading turned Cam on. He loved how much Jean-Paul wanted him, needed him. And he was going to reward him with the hottest, wildest, nastiest fuck he could muster, and afterwards, he’d make love to him, to cherish him. If he could hold on to his own control long enough.

“I’ve got you, babe,” he whispered in Jean-Paul’s ear. “Just relax and let me love on you, okay?”

Jean-Paul’s response was an incoherent murmur, because Cam had not stopped stroking his prostate, and he was leaking precum so hard it ran down the side of his dick like a thin stream.

“Condom,” he rasped, pulling his fingers from his lover’s ass. “Put it on me.”

Jean-Paul’s hands shook, and Cam had to help him hold it steady enough to roll it on. They chuckled together at the ridiculousness of the situation. Two grown men so lost to passion that it took four hands to get one condom on.

“I love you, Jean-Paul.” Cam said as he pushed him gently onto his back again and rolled over him, lining up his dick with his ass.

When he pushed in, Jean-Paul hissed, but Cam knew it wasn’t pain that fueled the cry that escaped his lips as he thrust in deeper.

“Camden! Oh, mon dieu! Baises-moi!”

Cam’s heart raced as he pushed in all the way, then withdrew to cries from Jean-Paul as he fucked him like he had just begged Cam to do. He was so far gone by this point that he couldn’t control the speed and depth of his plunges into Jean-Paul’s ass, though he tried to remember his lover hadn’t been with anyone in a long while.

But when Jean-Paul cried out “Oh, oui! Plus fort! C’est si bon!” Cam lost what little control he had left and gave himself over completely to the hard thrust and parry of their first time together.

“I’ve got you, babe! It’s good for me, too. I’ll give it to you as hard as you want,” he panted as he bottomed out repeatedly inside his lover.

“Don’t stop, Camden!” he begged between gulps of air.

“I won’t stop, babe,” Cam promised, ramming him, reaming his ass without mercy.

They were steeped in passion, drowning in heat and hunger, and when Cam knew he wouldn’t last much longer, he reached down to grasp Jean-Paul’s cock, ready to take him over. But before he could touch him, his lover cried out in ecstatic passion and came, spurting cum between them, splashing his chest and abs, with drops reaching the dark hairs of his beard. The sight of Jean-Paul cumming without being touched sent Cam toppling over the edge and he howled out his release into his lover’s neck, pumping his hips over and over until he froze as his orgasm ripped through his balls and burst from him. He came and came until there was nothing left to give.

He collapsed, trying to keep his weight off Jean-Paul, who dragged him close and hugged him tightly. Cam let him hold him, because he had no strength left to hold himself. They dozed like that, Jean-Paul’s cum drying between them, before they finally found the strength to make it to the bathroom for a quick shower. When they crawled back naked into bed, Cam fell asleep almost at once, his head cradled in the crook of Jean-Paul’s arm.

Sometime during the night, Jean-Paul woke him with a blowjob that set him on fire, and he came down his lover’s throat crying out his name in fevered bliss.

“Fuck!” he exclaimed when he could catch his breath. “If this is how you wake me up when it’s not even morning, what do I have to look forward to in a couple of hours?” he teased.

“Just warming you up, mon amour. Getting you ready for the taking.” He waggled his brows and chuckled, licking his lips and fingers where Cam’s cum had leaked out from his mouth.

Cam’s lips went dry. He hadn’t bottomed in years, mostly because his hookups had almost all wanted the soldier boy to fuck their tight asses. And of the times when he had, most had been entirely forgettable. But this was Jean-Paul, the man he loved. He would trust him to make it good for the both of them. He reached for him to kiss him, and the taste of his cum sent his blood pressure soaring again. He tugged until Jean-Paul fell back onto the bed and then he took him in hand, stroking him to a fast, hard orgasm, feeling like a boss when Jean-Paul screamed his name into the pillows at his head.

He fetched a warm, wet wash rag from the bathroom and cleaned them up, then snuggled back into Jean-Paul’s arms. This time, his lover fell asleep first, and Cam listened to the sound of his breathing in the quiet room. That right there...that was the sound of peace. He could listen to Jean-Paul sleep for the rest of his life, because he knew the feeling it inspired would never grow old. He wanted this man in his life for the rest of it, but he would have to start small. Maybe some visits to his home, and a visit to his parents. Jean-Paul needed some motherly love, and Cam knew his mother had more than enough to spare. His mind flew with plans, and he didn’t know when he fell asleep again.

The sun was high in the sky when Cam woke again, and Jean-Paul was not in bed. In fact, his side of the bed was cold, which meant he hadn’t been in bed for a long while. Was he having second thoughts? They had finally managed to ‘go all the way’, and Cam was not going to take any steps back. He would fight for what they had, fight to make it into even more, fight to make it better.

Pulling on his slacks without the boxers, he zipped it half way up and went to brush his teeth before going to find his man. Delicious smells were coming from the kitchen, which is where he found Jean-Paul, an apron around his sweats-bottom, clad form, wiggling his ass to music coming through the wireless headphones he had covering his ears. He was humming something Cam didn’t recognize as an American tune as he scrambled eggs. Cam ventured further in and saw a plate with sausages and bacon, and the baguette, already sliced, sitting around a stick of butter.

“Is this American breakfast morning?” he asked, sliding his arms around his waist and kissing the side of his neck.

Jean-Paul removed the pan from the flame, turned the burner off and turned in Cam’s arms, leaning in to kiss him.

“I thought I ought to treat the best lover a man could ever hope to have to a big, fattening, energy-restoring breakfast.”

Cam leaned away from him to study his grinning face before saying with mock seriousness, “I see how it is. You’re just feeding me so I can perform like the Energizer bunny later.” When Jean-Paul laughed, he added, severely, “I will have you know that I am no sex slave and I will not be treated as such.”

The whole effect was spoiled when he burst out laughing at the efforts that Jean-Paul was making to appear contrite. They kissed, a sweet meeting of lips and tasting of the tips of their tongues, but each seemed to want to hold off on the passion. Cam didn’t mind. He’d be here until Sunday evening. There would be time to make love again before then.

“I want to talk to you about something,” he said. “After breakfast.”

“It sounds serious,” Jean-Paul said, frowning. “Should I be worried?”

Cam smiled. “Not in the slightest. It’s about visiting me, and visiting my parents.”

He noticed that Jean-Paul stiffened. Was it too soon to be talking of meeting the parents? After all, they had only just confessed their love to each other. They had to grow into that, learn what it meant to be in a committed relationship before anything else could happen. He didn’t want Jean-Paul to think he was rushing into anything more at this point than being exclusive, being known as a couple.

“Don’t look so worried,” he hastened to say. “It’s nothing heavy. I just thought you’d like to come with me to Orlando for Thanksgiving. And maybe we could go away somewhere exotic for Christmas.” He hurried on, not waiting for Jean-Paul to reply. “Everything ready? What do you want me to do?”

Jean-Paul blinked, as though he needed to come back to the moment, and then he smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Just help me carry the things to the table,” he said.

Cam did, and soon they were sitting down to a heavy American breakfast, the kind that Cam had never seen him eat before. He helped himself to a little of everything, buttered a piece of the baguette, and then waited for Jean-Paul to help himself. He buttered two slices of baguette, spread jam over them, and poured himself a cup of coffee.

“That’s all you’re having?” he asked, gesturing to the two lonely pieces of bread on the plate in front of him.

“I don’t usually eat much more than this,” he said. “Perhaps I’ll have some fruit when I’m done.”

“So, who was all this food for?”

“Whatever is left over we can have for lunch,” he said. “And if you don’t fancy having the same thing twice in a row, we can make you a sandwich.”

Cam ate a piece of sausage and some bacon before replying. “Okay...let’s just get one thing straight, mister. You are not to treat me like a guest. I can make my own sandwich, thank you very much.”

Jean-Paul smiled, and this time it was real. “Noted, monsieur. Anything else you wish me to remember?”

Cam swallowed the egg and bread he had in his mouth and then said, “Like the song says ‘Just remember I love you, and it’ll be all right’.”

“I love you, too, Camden.”

They finished eating, and Cam went back to the subject he had broached earlier. Only this time, it was to ask the question that had been simmering in his head the whole time.

“Okay, so tell me what spooked you when I said I wanted you to meet my parents.”

Jean-Paul sighed heavily, and Cam didn’t know how to read that. He straightened his shoulders and poured himself a second cup of Joe. Nothing good ever came of anticipating disaster. He would wait to hear what was on Jean-Paul’s mind.

“It was not the mention of your parents that spooked me, as you say. It was something else. Something different.”

Cam wasn’t going to be that patient. “Well? What was it?”

“I do not like to travel by air.”

He stopped speaking as though he had just confessed to murder and looked at Cam guiltily. “You’re afraid of flying. So what? Lots of people are.” Cam didn’t see what the big deal was.

“Their fear may be irrational. Mine is not. Mine is based on lived experience.”

And just like that, everything made perfect sense. Shit! You’re reprising your asshole behavior from the last time, Cam. Way to go, dude!

“Oh hell, man! I’m so sorry. I never even thought…” Shut up, fucker, before you put your foot in it again!

“I take the train as often as I can, so I don’t have to go by air.”

“So when you went to Barbados, the reason you weren’t looking forward to it wasn’t the work but the travel.”

Jean-Paul nodded. “It takes a toll on me every time I am forced to fly. I have learned to control my panic attacks, for the most part, but I am always very tense, and usually drink a lot on the plane.”

“Have you seen a doctor? I know there are medications for that problem.”

“The ones I have been prescribed do not agree with me, so I don’t take them.”

Damn! This was bad. Not only had Jean-Paul suffered a terrible loss, but he had also suffered, and apparently was still suffering, from undiagnosed PTSD, for which he had never been treated.

“How often do you have to travel by plane?”

“Not often, though sometimes, as in the last month, it happens more than once a month.”

Cam reached across the table to take Jean-Paul’s hand, squeezing it sympathetically. “What did your doctor tell you, aside from prescribing meds?”

“Nothing really. I was a child, and they prescribed it when I had to travel for school. I stopped using it a long time ago.”

Cam inhaled slowly, knowing how difficult it must have been to live with what, to a child was a debilitating fear, and to an adult was a debilitating weakness. Neither situation bode well for Jean-Paul, who was as proud as any man Cam had ever known. It certainly explained why he had come off as cold and aloof in the beginning. He had spent his entire adult life wearing a mask to protect himself.

“Have you thought of seeing a psychiatrist, Jean-Paul?”

Cam asked the question gently. He had a few buddies who needed that kind of help to handle the things they had lived through. And he knew how some had railed against it. It was a matter of pride for them, as he was sure it would be for the man he loved.

“I am not mentally impaired, Camden.” Jean-Paul’s voice was without expression, a certain sign that he was withdrawing. Cam would not allow that to happen between them ever again.

“I didn’t say you were, babe. But I think you have an undiagnosed case of PTSD.”

“I was not in a war!” Jean exclaimed. “I just...I just survived a plane wreck while my family died. They are not the same thing.”

Cam hated how detached Jean-Paul had become. He had practiced being dispassionate all his life; it was second nature to him, like breathing. But it hid a hurting heart. He had to find a way to help him.

“Babe, lots of people suffer with PTSD who never saw a battlefield. The ‘t’ in that stands for ‘traumatic’. And you had a traumatic experience that no one showed you how to handle. Don’t you think you owe it to yourself to find someone who can help you?”

Jean-Paul pulled his hand away and stood up, taking his plate and cup with him as he walked away. Cam followed with his own things. He was not letting this go.

“You’re one of the strongest men I know, Jean-Paul. And you’ve been that way since you were a kid. I didn’t have your strength when I was fifteen. This is just another challenge. If you faced your loss and became the man you are, you can more than face this fear. I know you were alone before, babe, but I’m here now. I’ll be with you all the way.”

He didn’t answer, just stood by the sink gripping the edge of it as though it could anchor him. Cam didn’t push him any further. He just wanted him to know he’d be there whenever he was ready.

“Just promise me you’ll think about it, okay?” That was all he’d ask, for now.

Jean-Paul nodded and swallowed. Cam left him alone in the kitchen and went to get more things off the table. When everything was set to rights, he said, “I know it’s getting chilly out, but there’s a place my family loved to go when I was young, and I’d like to take you there today. After all we’ve just talked about, I think it’ll be good to blow the cobwebs away. What do you say?”

Jean-Paul walked over to where he stood by the door and cupped his face in his warm hands. “You are a special man, Camden Archer. Thank you. Yes, I would like that.”

Then he kissed him, and Cam held back the need to deepen it, to make it more than Jean-Paul probably intended. There would be time for passion later. Instead, he showered with his lover, and they got dressed in warm clothes so they could walk on the beach when they got there.

“It’s a long ride, so if you need to take a nap, go ahead.”

“Where are we going?” Jean-Paul settled himself in the passenger seat and fastened the seat belt.

“Ocean City in Maryland.”

They didn’t talk, and Jean-Paul snoozed, but Cam didn’t mind. His head was full of the revelation his lover had been keeping from him, a secret he had lived with, probably in shame, for twenty-five years. How had no one recognized Jean-Paul was suffering from PTSD and found a way to help him? He would contact his friend who used a military-sanctioned psychiatrist to help her with her issues. And, he prayed Jean-Paul would agree to give it a try.

They stayed all day, walking along the beach, and rented bikes to ride along the boardwalk, stopping in the touristy shops to gawk. They didn’t buy anything except in a specialty t-shirt shop, when Jean-Paul insisted on buying Cam a t-shirt that said “Been there, Done that, Bought the T-shirt” with a drawing of the Ocean City Boardwalk under the writing, and a caption identifying it below in fine print. And then they went into a portrait studio and took a sweet picture together, which Cam had framed so Jean-Paul could have a picture of someone he loved on his desk at work.

Afterwards, they ate at one of the restaurants on the boardwalk, taking their meal out onto the patio facing the ocean and listening to the waves washing the shore. The food was good, and he loved that he had given Jean-Paul his first memory as part of a couple in one of Cam’s favorite places. He wanted to keep building memories with him, so he could begin to feel like he was part of a family again.

It was late by the time they decided to call it quits, and because Jean-Paul insisted it was too much to make Cam drive all the way back to DC, they stayed in a hotel for the night. Jean-Paul also insisted on paying for it, and Cam let him, because he was so much more relaxed than he had been that morning. They showered and fell asleep in each other’s arms, waking up early the following morning to make passionate love before showering again and driving back to Washington. It was Sunday, and because Cam had another three-hour drive back home, Jean-Paul chose to stay in, and ordered in lunch from the restaurant next door. They made love again, with Jean-Paul taking Cam this time up against the shower wall, fucking him hard until he cried out in an agony of pleasure and spurted cum everywhere. Then they lay in bed together and rested. Too soon, it was time for Cam to go home. He hated leaving, especially knowing how upset Jean-Paul had been the day before.

“Will you spend Halloween with me?” he asked as he checked to see that he had everything he had brought with him.

“Yes. I will spend the week with you. Give me directions, and I will drive up to see you.”

“How can you spend a whole week with me? What about work?”

Jean-Paul laughed. “I never use my vacation days, and they are accumulating. I can take a week at a time when no one else is going anywhere.”

Cam’s heart raced with anticipation. A whole week. The things they could do together, when he was done with work. Would Jean-Paul want to be seen with him? Would he want to hang out together, especially knowing that a few people in town would recognize him? He would cross that bridge when he got to it. For now, he was just happy Jean-Paul had agreed. They walked down to his truck together, and Jean-Paul leaned in to kiss him goodbye.

“Thank you for coming this weekend. I had a wonderful time, and yesterday was the best date I’ve ever been on.”

Cam chuckled. “Gee, no pressure at all!” He kissed him back. “I’m glad you had a good time. I’ll see what I can do to make it just as good at least when you come up in two weeks. I’ll call you when I get home.”

“Drive safely, Camden.”

Another deep kiss, and Cam reluctantly took his leave.