A red tainted Silence (24 page)

“Being damn unfair.” He pulled one hand away from mine and ran it through my hair, tickling my scalp. It felt so good, the little shivers. “I guess you can’t really blame him for freaking out, though, finding us like that. I mean, gosh, look at what we looked like -- me naked and you so sexy in my arms.”

“I doubt that’s what my dad saw,” I said.

He chuckled at that. “My parents freaked out at first, too. Natural parental reaction.

They got over it. Maybe he will, too.”

I snorted. “My dad’s pretty pissed.”

“Yeah, but he’s married to your mom. And she’s cool. I imagine she’ll get him to ease up.”

I wanted to believe him, but what my dad had said hurt too bad. I didn’t know if my mom could convince him of anything this time. “He’s right about one thing, though. I dropped out of high school, Nicholas. Practically flunked out.” A Red-Tainted Silence

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“So I figured.” His body pressed, warm and soft, against my shoulders. His fingers gently explored where I’d hit my head, and then he kissed the spot. “Looks better than I thought it would. Still hurts?”

I nodded. “Some. You’re not mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad at you?”

“You finished high school. You go to college. You’re smart, talented; you hold not one job but two.” I took a deep breath, unable to keep the sadness from my voice. “You could do a lot better than me.”

His hands gripped my shoulders. “Whoa there, boyfriend. I meant what I told your dad.” He moved from behind me and grabbed an empty chair, pulling it close. I looked at him from the corner of my eye. He pushed his bangs off his face, reached out and brushed mine back, too, then trailed his fingers down my cheek. I took a deep, shuddery breath, and he smiled, dipping his head to one side as he held my gaze with his own.

“He’s really worked a number on you, hasn’t he? I just don’t understand why. You’re an amazing musician. My gosh, Brandon. You play keyboards, piano, guitar, drums.” He slapped one hand in the other’s palm as he ticked each off. “Not only that, you write music.”

“It’s all gone, though.”

“Yes, but you’ll write other music. Better music.” He touched his head. “You memorize whatever you see or hear. That is phenomenal. I think it’s phenomenal. Besides, lots of serious musicians don’t like school. I just happen to be one of the crazy ones who do. I’m the weird one here, not you.”

“You’re not weird,” I said shyly, stunned by how he saw me.

He grinned happily. “Oh, yes, I am, and I revel in it.” I laughed and he darted forward, kissing me and sitting back again so quickly, I couldn’t react with anything but a smile.

“That’s better. That’s my Brandon’s beautiful smile. Why did you drop out, anyway?” I licked my lips, tasting him still, wanting more. I shrugged. “I guess I was ashamed of what I thought I was. Of ... of being gay. I always felt like everyone was looking at me. I’m a loner, I -- I don’t have any friends, Nicholas. He was right about that, too.”

“You have your cousin Jenny.”

I nodded at that. “Yeah. She’s kept me sane the last couple of years.”

“And that girl Melissa,” he said, his voice teasing.

“Oh, please, don’t remind me. She’s been after me ever since we first met.” He laughed at that. “She is beautiful.”

“And is missing a few important parts.”

“And has a couple extras you’re not interested in? What’s wrong with you?” he said and flashed me a quick, knowing grin. He ran his hands down his chest. “Let me guess. You’d 138

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rather have flat-chest-boy?” He looked at me through slitted eyes, doing a damn good job of looking silly yet sexy at the same time.

“Uh, yeah,” I said, transfixed by what he was doing. “Nicholas, I don’t think ...” Heat flashed in my groin, colored my face. I looked away, but was drawn right back again.

He dropped his hands, apparently pleased with my reaction, and leaned forward in his chair. “I don’t care that you dropped out of school, Brandon. That you don’t have a gazillion friends. Jenny adores you, and I think that counts for a lot. I’ve got plenty of friends who will like you, too. Who will accept you as you are. And today’s Friday, right? I always go to Karen’s on Fridays. She thought you were really nice, by the way.”

“When did you talk to her?”

“I called her from work. She’s my best girl, you know.”

“Do you tell her everything?” I said warily.

“I don’t kiss and tell. At least not details. She knows what you did for me, though.” I nodded. “She was nice. I’m glad she was there --” I looked up at him, Percy’s face, his words, slamming back into my mind.

He nodded, a pained expression on his face. “Me, too.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, a bunch of people meet once a week there at the house. Most of them were at The Book Shed the other night, so you may recognize them.” He grinned. “I know they’ll recognize you.”

“Oh, no,” I said, shaking my head, feeling my face heat again. I swear, as much as I’d blushed the last two days, I should’ve had a sunburn. “I couldn’t --”

“I want you to come with me.”

“Nicholas, I just ... I don’t know if I’m ready for that ...” All those people, knowing?

He jumped up and moved behind me again and squeezed my shoulders. He bent down and said, “Please? It would mean a lot to me.” He nuzzled my neck, making me laugh despite myself. “Please please please, Brandon, come with me, please,” he whispered in my ear, his breath hot against my skin.

“Nicholas --” I warned, but his lips had found their mark already. He sucked at my neck like he was a vampire. I cringed, batting him away and laughing.

He grabbed me, cupping my chin with one hand and tilting my head back. I let him, finding again how much I liked his control over me when we were alone. He nuzzled the cleft in my chin and blew on my eyes, making me close them. Then he kissed my eyelids, those incredible lips so soft, so delicate. A shudder coursed through me, and I licked my lips in anticipation of his brushing mine. When they did, I smiled against his mouth, opening my eyes.

“So you’ll go?” he said eagerly. “Yes?”

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I looked at him cross-eyed, making him laugh again. I grinned even wider, raising my head. My tenseness suddenly eased, the hurt my dad had dropped on me fading under Nick’s adoration. “Do you always get your way, Nick?” I asked him.

“Yup, Brandon, pretty much.”

“Okay. If you’re sure you really want me to. I’m no prize, you know.” Not like he was to me.

“Bull. Scoot back. Away from the table some.”

I did so, puzzled, then yelped as he suddenly straddled me. “Hey, careful,” I warned, grabbing hold of his thighs and trying to shift into a more comfortable position.

“Oops. Sorry to crush your dickie.”

I smacked him on the thigh for that. “You don’t look the least bit contrite.”

“Because I’m really not. You know, I bet you’re a hell of a lot smarter than you let on.

You’ll be fine with my friends.” He draped his arms casually over my shoulders, letting his hands dangle behind me. His face neared mine, and I looked into those sapphire eyes of his.

They reminded me of the ocean and the sky, where one melded into the other, clear and sparkling. Pretty, as was he.

“I’ll try,” I said.

“Good. That’s all I ask.” He looked into my eyes, peering at me from beneath his bangs.

He pulled a mock-serious expression. “Let’s see, what else could be so bad about Brandon Ashwood?”

I shook my head. “There’s lots more.”

“There’s nothing you can tell me about yourself that will scare me away, Brandon.”

“I cuss too much.”

“Yes, I’ve realized that.”

“Sorry. I’ll try to stop. I like to smoke.”

He tensed at that. “Really?”

I nodded, realizing I could use a cigarette right then, really bad. Wasn’t going to happen, though. I rubbed my hands down his thighs and back again -- soft and warm. His muscles played beneath my touch as he kept some of his weight on his feet. Nice thighs with meat on them. Not like my own.

“And I like beer. I’ve been shit-faced more times than I can keep track of. I’ve been so drunk I didn’t know my name.”

“I don’t drink or smoke.”

I sighed. “Didn’t think so.” I drew my hands up to his hips, hooking my thumbs in his waistband. His weight on my lap was making me warm. I couldn’t help myself -- I squirmed beneath his weight as my jeans got tighter again.

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“So, what else is so terrible about you?” He looked into my eyes and shook his head.

“There’s nothing so far I can’t live with.” He cocked his head to one side. “You’ll have to smoke outside, though. And brush your teeth before kissing me.” He cradled my head with his hands, taking care to not touch the side of my face where Percy’s friend had beaned me, and pulled me so our foreheads touched. He really liked doing that.

Possession.

I tightened my hands on his hips, feeling the familiar surge of desire shudder through me. I pushed my hips up, craving his weight right there.

His hands reached underneath the bottom of my shirt. He bit his lip in mock concentration as he unbuttoned the top of my jeans, his questing fingers finding what they sought. I jerked at the sweet invasion, grabbing his shoulders, though whether it was really to stop him and not to simply hold on, I couldn’t say.

“Nicholas,” I whispered hoarsely. “We shouldn’t.” Even though I wanted to, bad. Wanted to feel him on top of me again, wanted things from him I couldn’t even name.

His mouth quirked into a grin. “We’re alone, right?” I hesitated, then nodded. “Dog’s here somewhere.”

“You have a dog?”

I nodded, pulled him tighter against me, tilting my head to kiss him. Once again, though, he took control away from me, and I felt the last of my shame and despair edge away at the touch of his mouth against mine, the expressive fingers of one hand caressing the back of my neck while he stroked my erection with the other. I squirmed now in earnest, almost whimpering as I pushed myself into his hand.

“Open for me,” he whispered.

I hesitated, then groaned into his mouth, doing as he told me to. His tongue found mine. His hand stilled as he kissed me deeply, a surprisingly lazy kiss for a guy who traveled at light speed most of the time.

When it came to kissing, Nicholas liked it slow.

I put my hand over his on my erection, urging him to finish what he’d started. He chuckled, grinding his hips into me as his hand quickened. I moaned again, loving the pleasure-pain of his weight on me. I wanted to stay like this forever.

I wanted to explode.

“Come on, baby,” he whispered against my lips. I could no longer respond to his kisses.

I tilted my head back, gasping for breath as his thumb expertly caressed the head of my shaft and down again, squeezing and stroking. He kissed my neck, my jaw, gently bit my ear, his A Red-Tainted Silence

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hot breath fanning my skin. I could smell him, wanted to inhale him -- the mingled scents of Nicholas and sex.

The kitchen whirled around me, and all was forgotten as my entire world centered on Nick’s hot hand on my throbbing dick and his mouth suckling my neck. I sank my fingers into his shoulders as a shudder ran through me and a cry tore from somewhere deep inside me. My body splintered into a thousand multicolored pieces as the release I craved detonated deep inside me and exploded into Nick’s hand.

He held me as I came, stole the whimpers of relief that spilled from me and murmured his encouragement. I don’t know what he said -- don’t remember, don’t care. He caught my lips with his, kissing me tenderly. He finally broke away, laughing in delight as I gasped at the loss of those lips. He laid his cheek against mine and petted the side of my face. He started to hum softly, a tune I didn’t recognize.

“I like meat, too,” I said breathlessly, making him chuckle.

“I like certain meats myself.”

“So you’re not a real vegetarian?” I asked. “What do you eat, fish?” He laughed, throwing his head back. “Brandon, sweet Brandon.” He grinned merrily. “I like organ meat.”

I inhaled sharply, realized what he meant. “Oh. Damn.” I winced. “I told you I was stupid.”

“No, no, no, you’re just terribly fun to tease.” He tugged at my shirt -- it was pretty much a mess. Using it as a cloth, he wiped me clean. I watched, fascinated, simply marveling at the care he took tending to me. “So much for that shirt,” he said, tossing it on the floor.

Then I remembered what he’d told me earlier. Feeling a little awkward -- I’d never actually done this before, after all -- I slipped my hands underneath his shirt. It was his turn now. I was rewarded with a hiss as I smoothed my hands up his sides, taking care not to press too hard against his bruises. Encouraged by his return to humming, I let my thumbs do the roving, seeking to do to him what he’d requested earlier. When the pads of my thumbs glided over his nipples, he arched his back and pushed his hips into mine, grinding into me.

“Oh, I warned you not to do that,” he moaned, clenching his hands on his thighs.

I stilled, worried. “You want me to stop?”

He looked at me. “Of course I don’t want you to stop, silly,” he said, breathless. He reached for the hem of his shirt, yanked it off, and dropped it on the floor, then grabbed my hands and pressed them against his chest, capturing them there.

“Better,” he said reverently.

My hands were bigger than his, my fingers longer, alien in their golden darkness, sandwiched as they were between the ethereal skin of his chest and hands.

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I began to stroke him. I watched his face in fascination, marveling that the soft strokes and pinches on his nipples, encouraged and guided by his fingers, sent him into such wanton gyrations. He smiled at me through his passion, his eyes heated and boring into mine.

“I want inside you, Brandon,” he whispered, capturing my face between his hands.

Stunned, I stared at him. “Nicholas, I don’t know if I can --” But my protest died as he laid one finger on my lips, shaking his head.

“It’s okay. We won’t rush that, I promise.” He quirked a smiled at me. “Okay? But it’s gonna happen. I just want you to know.”