Forsaking Truth (12 page)

Luke’s hard scowl cut
into him and he snapped, “What the fuck are you talking about? I meant I never
feel this sort of connection with someone.”

Relief and regret
tunneled through him so fa
st he wasn’t sure which
emotion was responsible for the tight pinching in his chest. “I’m sorry. I
thought—”

“I wouldn’t have
brought you here if I wasn’t sure this was what I wanted.”

“How am I supposed to
know that? You’re asking me to go by the last hou
r
and forget everything you showed me in the last two months.”

Luke licked his lips
as if considering that. “Trust. I trust you, Tristan. No one else gets this
side of me, but you do. I’m trusting you not to…”

Tell.

“Okay. But you have to
give me a chance
to catch up. You hurt me, Luke. Bad.
I’ll give it a second chance, because I feel it too. All these emotions are
intimidating and coming at me faster than I can process. You’re different. I
like you way more than I probably should.”

“You do?”

“Fuck yeah. I
t killed me, these past two months.”

“I promise, I’ll never
do anything like that again. Hurting you…it didn’t feel good. It hurt me just
as much.”

“You’re gonna have
other moments that freak you out. I can’t help you through them if you shut me
out, Luke.
You have to give me your word, that if
something comes up and you get spooked, you’ll talk to me.”

“I promise.”

Tristan wasn’t sure
there was a way to express how much his promise meant. “Kiss me.”

Luke grinned and
lowered his body to his, his mouth makin
g slow, sweet
work of unraveling Tristan’s senses. They kissed, simply kissed, for a long
time. Luke’s body curved and arched over his, his nipples dragging teasingly
over Tristan’s skin.

Fingers wrapped around
his wrists, pinning them into the space above
his
head and Tristan arched as he ground his cock into Luke. No one had ever
treated him with such sensual tenderness. Every look, every caress, and every
kiss, was a prelude to something incredible. Something neither of them was
prepared for. Luke’s seem
ingly innate touches left
him in awe.

Luke’s body slid
lower. Soft kisses pressed into Tristan’s stomach. The drag of Luke’s wet
tongue was perhaps the most incredible sensation he’d ever felt. Then his
strong fingers wrapped around his cock. They tighten
ed
and slowly tugged at his flesh. And when Luke’s mouth closed over the tip,
Tristan nearly came.

“Jesus.”

Luke smiled. Tristan
felt the curve of his lips as he licked over his flesh and experimented with
taking him into his mouth. It wasn’t fast and it d
idn’t
have to be. It was amazing. Luke’s innocence and inexperience showed, but only
in the most charming sense.

“This is different,”
he said, licking up Tristan’s shaft. “There’s so many things I want to try, I’m
just not sure where to start.”

He was star
ting off just fine.

Sliding lower, Luke
stroked him. He’d yet to take Tristan fully in his mouth, but that was fine. It
felt incredible. His balls lifted and Luke pressed an open mouth kiss to the
crease of his thigh. Tristan’s knees drew up, opening hims
elf to that exploring mouth.

“I love your scent
here. It’s you, but a thousand times stronger.”

“Keep talking like
that and you’re gonna make me come.”

Luke’s hand tightened
on the base of his cock. “Not yet.”

His body shivered at
the commanding tone. That
amazing mouth traveled up
his shaft, over his balls, and across his hips. It was the longest foreplay
he’d ever tolerated. He wanted it to end and wanted it to last forever. His
body was so turned on, his mind beyond seduced, he’d never felt such pleasure
and they hadn’t even done anything yet.

“What about here?”
Luke asked quietly, his finger grazing the throbbing knot of Tristan’s ass.

“There’s good too…” he
could barely talk.

Luke’s body slid off
the futon and onto the floor. Tristan spread his legs as
they were given a little nudge. His balls lifted and cool hair teased
his thighs as Luke’s head lowered.

The press of his
finger was subtle, hesitant. Tristan patiently waited for him to go on.

“Roll to your
stomach.”

Easing up, Tristan
turned, positionin
g himself on his stomach at the
edge of the mattress. Luke gripped his hips and slowly pulled him back until
his knees were also on the hard floor. His palm flattened on his back and rode
up his spine until his chest was pressed into the mattress.

Large ha
nds smoothed over his ass. Two thumbs parted his cheeks and
then that wicked tongue traced from the back of his balls all the way to his
hole. Tristan grunted and moaned.

“This okay?”

Jesus. There had never
been anything better. How was this man so gifted
when
he’d never had a gay experience before meeting Tristan? He wondered if it was
an innate part of Luke, something that had been repressed for far too long.
“Everything you’re doing feels incredible.”

Sharp teeth nipped his
cheek as strong hands spread
them, pulling his skin
tight, opening him more. Tristan rocked his hips into the low frame of the bed
as Luke slowly kissed those tender muscles.

He heard the slurp and
pop of Luke’s mouth and then there was a wet finger pressing into him. “Is this
okay?”

“That’s fine,” he
rasped, breathless.

Luke pressed deeper.
It was slow and euphoric. Monumental. He didn’t stop until his knuckle budded
up against his rectum. Tristan’s eyes closed. He could feel them rolling back
in his head.

“You like that?”

“I love
it.”

“What does it feel
like?” Luke slowly withdrew and pushed back in.

“Good. Deep. Full.
Fucking amazing.”

“When you…have sex,
are you usually on the top or bottom?”

“Top.”

His motions stilled,
as he seemed to process this. “All the time?”

“I’ve bottomed
, but I usually like to feel in control.”

“I want control,” Luke
whispered and pressed his finger deep.

He couldn’t fucking
concentrate with his finger up his ass. He was about to blow all over the
fucking mattress. “We’ll figure it out later.” His voice
sounded guttural to his own ears.

Luke grunted. “Yeah we
will. I plan on having you begging for my dick inside that sweet ass.”

Holy fucking shit.
Tristan’s brain short-circuited. He cursed, reached under his body and squeezed
his cock hard so he didn’t co
me. Luke noticed and
chuckled.

“That turn you on?
Thinking about my cock drilling into your tight ass?”

“Fuck, Luke, you’re
killing me.”

“The first time I make
you come, you’re gonna blow so hard you’ll never forget it.”

His finger yanked out
of his ass
and his tongue was suddenly there,
impaling his soft flesh. Tristan’s hand was jerked away and replaced with
Luke’s. Strong fingers tightened on his cock and tugged hard. Three strokes and
he was shooting like a fucking teenager, all over the bed.

His body
twitched and shivered as Luke bit his ass and kissed up
his spine. This was not the man he’d been with six weeks ago. This was not the
unsure, diffident, scared guy who’d blown him off. This was a new Luke. A Luke
that knew exactly what he wanted and was
determined
to get it.

As Tristan caught his
breath, his mind spun. He wanted
him.
His desire was almost painful to
process. The intensity of his yearning was terrifying, because in that moment
he wanted him
forever.

“This soup is terribl
e,” Luke said, shoveling in another bite of the watered
down noodles.

Tristan smirked, a
soft crease around his eyes, and a devastatingly handsome quirk to his lips.
How had he resisted him for so long? Luke’s mind was still reeling from
watching him come
apart beneath him, feeling him lose
himself under his touch. It was the most sensual moment of his life.

“What’s your favorite
food?” Tristan asked.

Luke tipped his head
in contemplation. “I love my mum’s chicken casserole.”

“How does she make
it?”

“I have
no idea, but it’s like biting into heaven. You’ll have to
try it.”

Tristan’s expression
suddenly shifted from easy going to burdened. Quietly, he asked, “Will you tell
them? Your family?”

Luke stilled.
Absolutely not. He wasn’t ready to tell anyone. His d
ecision
was pure instinct, but there was more to it. He wasn’t ready to share this part
of himself with anyone aside from Tristan. He wasn’t ready to share Tristan.
“Maybe in time.”

Tristan’s eyes moved
over him as if contemplating his answer. “Your family
’s
pretty liberal.”

“Yeah. But they’re
also Catholic.”

“Do they see
homosexuality as a sin?”

Homosexuality. For
some reason that label didn’t encompass what he felt about Tristan. It was
still sinking in and Luke wasn’t sure if he’d ever come to terms with
that classification. “I don’t know. It isn’t something
that comes up often.”

Tristan pushed his
soup away. “When I was younger I always had this fantasy in my head that I’d
bring home a lover, maybe when I was older, perhaps coming home for
Thanksgiving o
r some shit. He’d stay at my house and
together we’d tell my parents we were in love. They’d be shocked, my dad more
than my mom, but then they’d come around and we’d hug it out and eventually all
be sitting around watching reruns on late night television
like the perfect modern family. I never got that. I
understand why certain things are private.”

“Do you ever talk to
them?”

“No. I send my mom a
card every Christmas. It’s generic and only has my name. But it tells her where
I’m living and that I’m alive.
That seems to be
enough for her. She never writes back.”

“What did she do when
your dad caught you?”

“Cried. I wasn’t
hospitalized, but I was in bad shape. After that day, nothing was ever the
same. If I walked into a room, he walked out. I’d catch her wip
ing her eyes and sometimes I told myself it was because she
hated her husband, but I was never sure if it was because she hated him for
what he’d done or me for what I was. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to ever
ask the truth.”

“There was a gay guy
in o
ur high school,” Luke said quietly, remembering
what his team had done to him and how he laughed with the rest of them. It
wasn’t funny now. It stopped being funny the day they read the kid’s
obituary—at least for most of them.

“I’m not going to ask
you
about that, because by the look in your eyes it
isn’t a memory you want to remember. People change, Luke. No one has the right
to throw the first stone because no one’s perfect and none of us even know what
perfect is. Society is the last measuring stick w
e
should use. Just take a look at the horrid beliefs we’ve applied over history.”

He lost his appetite.
“Is this…are we a couple now?”

Tristan’s brow shot
up. “Uh, yeah.”

He nodded. Good. He
was hoping that was the case, but this was so different from any
other relationship he’d ever had. He wasn’t remotely close
to understanding the dynamic and who fulfilled which role.

He’d always imagined
settling down with a wife. She was stacked, could bake, and knew how to
decorate the shit out of a Christmas tree. N
ever in a
million years had he contemplated any future remotely close to this. Although,
this was far from the outcome. This was the very beginning, but he wanted it to
last—for at least a while.

“What are you thinking
about?”

“How life is
surprising.”

“I
think it’s all planned,” Tristan said. “I think the bad
things that happen are actually good things disguised as challenges to make us
stronger and carve us into who we’re meant to be. Destiny.”

“Do you like sports?”
Luke asked, preferring to leave Tristan
’s deep
insight for another time.

He chuckled. “Did you
think I pranced around in high heels and painted my nails in private? Yes, I
like sports. But be fair warned, I’m a Dallas fan.”

He groaned. “That’s
gonna be an issue.”

Tristan laughed.

After they cle
aned up from dinner, Luke took a shower in the tiny
bathroom that barely fit his body. His heart started racing as he was drying
off. Outside the door was Tristan. Tall, handsome, southern twang talking, all
kissable lips, Tristan.

He gripped the lip of
t
he tiny wall mounted sink and breathed. He couldn’t
seem to catch his breath. His eyes shut and he experienced the same rush he got
running through the tunnel onto the field. Anxiety, adrenaline, and
anticipation churned inside of him making him dizzy with
a rush unlike anything he’d ever known.

He swallowed and
glanced at his reflection. His jaw was shaved, hair trimmed. Unsure what would
come next, he hesitated leaving the small room.

The scent of burning
wood greeted him as he quietly cracked the door. Easing into the tight hallway,
he caught sight of Tristan’s bare back leaning over, his jeans slung low at his
tapered waist, as he twisted paper and fed it into the woodstove. He’d gone
outside for more wood. He’d also found the linens in the
chest and made up the futon bed.

Luke’s stomach flipped
as he took in the scene of shadows playing over his lover’s tanned skin as
flames flickered through the opening of the stove. Tristan shut th
e grate and stood. When he turned, he stilled, realizing he
had an audience. “Hey.”

Luke’s throat dried
like the Sahara. “Hey,” he rasped.

“I made the bed.”

“I saw.” He also
noticed his bag was tossed conveniently close. Did they need anything? Fuck,
condo
ms would’ve been smart. His insides seemed to
take a dip at that thought.

“I think I’ll grab a
quick shower too, if you don’t mind.”

That was good. Give
him some time to process. “Okay.”

Tristan passed him and
Luke sucked in a deep breath as he dragged the
tips
of his fingers over the lower part of his sternum. His cock came to attention
and he caught Tristan’s wrist, pulling him close for a brief kiss.

Tristan smiled against
his lips and nibbled, then stepped back. “Five minutes.”

The door to the
bathroom
closed and Luke debated staying in his
towel, losing it, or slipping back into his jeans. He dropped to the low bed
and eyed Tristan’s bag. Listening for the running water, he tipped his finger
in the open zipper compartment and peeked in without disturbi
ng much.

Looking back at the
hall to make sure he was alone, he leaned over to scope things out. There was a
sweater, a book and a small black toiletry case. He slowly undid the toiletry
zipper. Travel toothpaste, a toothbrush in one of those plastic caddi
es, three condoms, deodorant, and—oil. Thank fuck.

Quickly zipping up the
bag, he scooted over on the bed. He looked around the room and waited, tapping
his fingers on his thigh anxiously. They were gonna do this. There’d be no
going back, no erasing it. S
hit. Part of him wanted
to bitch out and part of him just wanted to get it over with.

He was suddenly very
aware of his body. His cock was hardening and he thought about every part of
him, parts of Tristan, and how this whole thing would work.

The water sh
ut off and Luke’s breathing sped up. The door to the
bathroom opened and Tristan came out wearing a towel. Luke watched as he came
closer, taking note of his rigid abs, strong chest, cut arms. He’d bulked up a
bit since working in the lumberyard. Then ther
e were
all those little white scars, each one a badge of the condemnation he’d lived
through. Tristan was a lot stronger emotionally than he came off. He was stoic.

“You okay?” Tristan
asked, coming to stand by the bed.

“Yeah. Little
nervous,” he admitted.

Tristan stepped in
front of where he sat. His hand cupped his jaw and his thumb rubbed gently over
his cheek. “Your eyes are incredible. You probably hear that all the time.”

He didn’t and hearing
it from Tristan did things to him. He lifted his hands and
gently rested them over the towel at Tristan’s hips. His
thumbs massaged lightly. His skin was smooth, different than a woman’s though.

Fingers sifted through
his hair and he shut his eyes for a brief moment, luxuriating in the feel of
those hands on him.
Luke pulled away the towel and
there he was. It was still disorienting having all that manliness in his face.

His thumbs ran over
the dark hair at the root of Tristan’s shaft. It was trimmed short. Tristan’s
cock lifted and twitched as Luke placed a kiss
on the
tip. The sound of Tristan sucking in a deep breath had his own body tightening.

Luke’s palms glided to
his thighs and he opened his mouth, catching the broad end on his tongue.
Fingers tightened in his hair. The head was smooth against his lips, od
d, but pleasant.

Mouth closing over
Tristan’s girth, he slid his lips lower. Tristan’s hips flexed and pressed
deeper, causing Luke to jerk back. His throat constricted, the sudden stab
cutting off his air supply making his eyes water.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.
”

He took him in his
mouth again and Tristan’s hold on his hair gentled. His palm traced down to the
back of Luke’s neck and guided him closer. Luke pressed forward, taking him
deeper, and adjusted to the feel of him in his mouth. Each time the head bumped
the back of his throat he retreated, but tried again.

Saliva built and the
friction eased. His lips stretched and tightened as he adjusted his hold on
Tristan’s thighs.

It was a foreign act,
but familiar in that Luke had been on the receiving line and kne
w how good a blowjob could feel. The idea of giving Tristan
such pleasure motivated him to do his best.

“Your mouth feels
incredible,” Tristan forced out through gritted teeth, as though pleasure made
it difficult to form words.

The praise knifed
through h
im like a warm blade into butter, sinking
right into his needy, vulnerability. His grip tightened and he increased his
rhythm, really getting into it.

Tristan’s fingers
curled around the back of his neck, pressing him faster, up and down. He sucked
harder. Fuck, he loved sucking his cock.

Grunts filled the air
and he moaned over the stalk of flesh, knowing exactly how good that slight
tingle of vibratio
n could feel.

“Touch my balls,
baby,” Tristan whispered and Luke nearly preened at the endearment. It didn’t
feel girly. It felt affectionate. Right.

His hand lowered and
cupped the supple sack. Tristan had a good set on him. The soft, warm flesh
filled hi
s hand and he slowly stroked the sensitive
weight with gentle tugs. Tristan’s hips began to rock faster. With each second
Luke grew more aroused.

He swallowed back and
took him as deep as he could manage, sending Tristan up on his toes as he held
him ther
e, his lips pressed to the firm base, the
hair at his pelvic bone tickling his lip.

Tristan let out a
guttural moan and Luke drew in a breath through his nose, running his tongue
back and forth over the underside as he slowly pulled back. He became drunk o
n his lover’s heady scent.