Keeping Sweets (25 page)

It felt unbearable to be apart from Bran when he was only a few steps away. How would Evan survive being apart from him? They hadn’t discussed contact or the possibility of seeing each other after the shoot ended, but Evan thought it might make it worse: to long for someone only to have them ripped away over and over again.

A few minutes later, Bran came back with a tray heaped with food. It looked like he had stacked everything left in the kitchen on there. Evan could feel his mouth hanging open. Bran shrugged.

“You said you were hungry.”

They laid the food out on a blanket on the floor—an impromptu bedroom picnic—and stuffed themselves until they couldn’t eat any more. They climbed back into bed and turned on the TV that was mounted on the wall for the first time since they had arrived at the house. They chose a movie they had both seen, knowing they likely wouldn’t make it through the whole thing before they became distracted again, and settled in together to cuddle and digest.

T
HE
sun was beginning to set, and the noise downstairs was getting louder. The guys were obviously home from wherever they had been, gathering around somewhere to socialize and hang out on their last night together. Evan had no desire to spend time with anyone but the man whose arms he was cradled in.

He turned, moving his mouth over Bran’s smooth flesh. He teased at his nipples which drew soft coos and moans from him. He liked that he had that kind of power over Bran. He knew he wasn’t Bran’s first, and likely not the best lover he had ever been with, but the things he did seemed to please Bran, and that was all that mattered to Evan.

Evan was too sore to have sex again. Four times was his limit for the day, but he wanted to make the most of their time together. He wanted to be able to memorize every curve and every plane of Bran’s strong body.

He could feel Bran hardening against his thigh. The man was as insatiable as Evan was. He needed to taste him, to make him feel as good as Evan felt. Wanted to remember, to make him remember too.

He positioned himself between Bran’s legs and licked tentatively at his cock, loving the approving sounds he made. Bran reached for another pillow and tucked it under his head so he could watch. Evan gave him a show he hoped he would never forget.

He lapped at the head before licking in long strokes up and down the shaft. He traced the thick veins and swirled around the head, flicking his tongue against the most sensitive spot. He pulled Bran into his mouth and moved his hand up and down the spit-slicked shaft with each movement of his mouth. He sped up, bringing Bran to the very brink before backing off, slowing his movement.

He did this over and over again, making Bran insane with lust, overwhelmed with the need to come, before he finally put the man out of his misery. Evan relaxed his throat, slid him all the way down, and swallowed around the engorged head. Bran lost it then, crying out Evan’s name as he came, shaking and trembling beneath him.

“Evan, come here.” Bran pulled him up, kissing him hard, thrusting his tongue into Evan’s mouth.

He was still shuddering through the aftershocks of his orgasm, desperate and uneven. He spoke against Evan’s mouth, muttering jumbled sounds and broken phrases.

Evan was swamped with lust, wanting nothing more than to feel Bran pounding into him, but he shook his head. He was hurting already.

“Can’t, Bran. I’m sorry. I’m too sore.”

“No, Ev, not you, me. Need you in me. Wanna feel you, Sweets. Feel you inside.”

Evan stilled, staring down at Bran. He
what?
Bran had never bottomed. Ever. He’d told Evan he never would, just wasn’t his thing, but now, he was asking Evan. He didn’t want to think about what it meant, didn’t want to give Bran enough time to change his mind. He wanted to feel it too, to be buried inside the man he loved, feel Bran surrounding and moving with him.

He nodded once, reached for the lube, and poured some onto his fingers as he had seen Bran do. He needed to act on instinct, not think about it too much.

He pushed one finger in, watched Bran’s eyes squeeze shut as he hissed against the burn. Evan knew what that felt like. He also knew how the pain would turn to pleasure in a few seconds. He stilled his hand, waiting and watching. Sure enough, moments later Bran relaxed.

“More, Evan. I need more.”

Evan pulled his hand back and held two fingers tightly together. Slowly and carefully, he pushed back in, both fingers this time, and again gave Bran time to adjust. When he thought it would be okay, he massaged the tight muscles, loosening them before scissoring his fingers apart, stretching and expanding the tight passage.

When he was satisfied that Bran wouldn’t be hurt, he carefully retracted his fingers and added lubrication to his cock. Evan was ready. He was nervous. He was overwhelmed. He needed this. Bran needed this.

He poised the tip at Bran’s entrance and pushed in slowly. He could feel Bran pushing out against him, making it easier for him to get in. Suddenly the head pushed past the ring and he was in. He had never felt anything like it in his life. Bran was so tight. So fucking tight and so hot around him, squeezing him.

Evan couldn’t move. If he moved, he would come. This couldn’t be over that quickly. He wanted to go slow, to draw it out, to make it special, make it last. He stayed as still as possible, watching Bran. He was smiling up at Evan. He looked blissed out and happy. Evan wanted to remember him like this forever.

All of a sudden, Evan felt Bran tightening around him. He gasped. Bran did it again.

“Gotta move, Ev. Make me feel you. Feels so good.”

Evan did move; he pulled out almost all the way before thrusting back in. Good lord it felt good. He did it again, long slow strokes, savoring the feeling of Bran’s body giving way as he embedded himself inside.

“Faster, Ev, harder. Wanna feel you for a week.”

Evan gave him what he wanted, plunging in at a punishing pace. He watched intently as he changed the angle with each thrust, waiting for it—there. The look on Bran’s face said he’d found it. He hooked his hands under Bran’s shoulders, which gave him the leverage he needed. Bran was tilting his hips, meeting him thrust for thrust as they pushed each other higher.

“I’m gonna come again, Sweets. Want you to come with me.”

Evan was so close, almost there, just needed a little—

“Oh, God, Evan, I’m coming.”

Bran’s hands clenched at Evan’s ass, pulling their hips flush together and Evan was as deep as he could go. The feeling of Bran spasming around him tipped him over and they came together.

Evan slumped over Bran, letting the larger man take his full weight. He buried his head in Bran’s shoulder, relishing the feeling of Bran’s hands stroking his back, the rough pads of his fingertips abrading his skin.

Evan was so overwhelmed, so lost, he just couldn’t do it anymore. Couldn’t hold the emotion in. He held on tight, face buried, Bran’s smell enveloping him like a soothing blanket.

“I love you,” he whispered into the soft skin at the base of Bran’s neck.

Bran’s stilled his hands on his back, but he didn’t say anything, didn’t move.

Evan felt like his heart stopped beating. He hadn’t meant to say it, hadn’t meant for Bran to know, but it was too late now. He’d told him and was met with silence.

He lifted his head slowly, afraid of what he might find. Bran’s face was expressionless. He just stared at the ceiling, the mask that Evan had seen so often in Bran’s scenes firmly in place across his eyes.

Evan’s stomach ached. He wanted to run and hide in the closet, never speak to anyone again. It was humiliating and heartbreaking at the same time.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered quietly. “I didn’t mean—”

Bran turned his head, interrupting. “I know you didn’t mean it.”

“Wait, what?” Evan asked, confused. That wasn’t what he was going to say.

“I know you didn’t mean it,” Bran repeated. “You were caught up in the moment, totally understandable. People say things they don’t mean after sex.”

Evan could feel his temper begin to rise. “Oh no. I meant it.”

“No, you didn’t.”

Evan jumped out of bed and pulled his shorts on as quickly as he could. There was no way he was going to argue about this naked. It left him too open, too vulnerable.

“How the fuck would you know? You in my head, Bran? You know everything that goes on?”

“No, but I’ve been where you are. Young. Naïve. Think you’re in love with the first guy that fucks you.”

Evan’s mouth hung open. He was at a total loss for words. He felt like he had been stabbed in the gut, and what was worse, it was someone he loved who had turned the knife in the wound. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have fallen in love with someone who cared so little for him?

Of course Bran didn’t love him back. This was sex. That’s it. He could feel his cheeks heating and the tears pricking the back of his eyes. He wouldn’t cry in front of Bran. He couldn’t.

He turned, gathered his things as quickly as possible, and shoved everything haphazardly into the duffle on the floor.

Bran didn’t say anything, just watched him with a vacant look pasted on his face. Evan couldn’t bear to look. He heaved the bag over his shoulder and walked out the door, letting it click loudly shut behind him.

Bran didn’t follow him, and he didn’t expect anything else. He knew Bran was done with him. Time to move on. Evan couldn’t stay in the house another minute though, with reminders of Bran and everything that had happened strewn through every room. He raced down the stairs, dumped his bag by the front door, and set off in search of Colt.

He found him a minute later, watching a kung fu movie in the den.

Colt took one look at Evan and launched himself from the sofa.

“What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“What did he do to you?”

“Nothing. I don’t want to talk about it. You still interested in coming with me?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Get your stuff.”

“Now?”

“Yeah, now. I can’t stay here, and I’m too worked up to sleep tonight. I’ll drive. You can nap. Let’s go.”

“Alright, Evan, I’ll grab my stuff and let the guys know we’re leaving.”

“Fine. I’ll be in the car.”

Evan had to give Colt credit. He was quick with the getaway, piling his belongings in the trunk next to Evan’s, and for the first hour of the two-hour trip, he was silent. He didn’t push, didn’t prod, and Evan appreciated it.

It was comforting to have Colt with him. He didn’t feel so alone. He didn’t know what he would have done if he had had to wait until morning to catch the bus to Eugene. Thank God Colt had a car and was willing to pack up and go at a moment’s notice.

Most of the highways were bare as they drove. It was late; most people were sleeping. It had been almost eleven p.m. when they left and now it was closing in on one. The rage that had been flowing through Evan’s veins had begun to take its toll.

Lethargy was creeping in, settling itself in his skin, drawing out blinks, and making his eyes scratchy.

He felt Colt’s hand on his arm. “Maybe we should think about getting a hotel for the night. I can call our landlord in the mornin’ and give him a heads up that we’ll be in town a little early?”

Evan hadn’t thought about what they would do once they actually got to where they were going. At least they had a place to live lined up. There was even still a few weeks before the semester started that Evan could get a part-time job to save up a little more before his courses started. Colt had helped him find the house online, and although he’d never seen it in person, it looked nice enough on the rental website, and with Colt helping out with rent, affordable. The landlord had been a nice guy on the phone, letting them move into the house early since it was sitting empty anyway. They were supposed to give him a call when they got to town, but he wasn’t expecting their call yet. Evan glanced at the clock again, the night now closing in on one thirty. Of course their landlord wouldn’t be up to let them into the house. Colt was right; they should stop.

He pulled off the highway at the next ramp and located the nearest motel in the GPS. Colt hopped out of the car and reserved them a room. He was reminded again how lucky he was to have Colt with him. Without that gentle reminder, he likely would have fallen asleep at the wheel and driven himself off the road.

He was a mess.

They dragged their tired bodies into the room. It looked much the same as the room Evan had stayed in before leaving for Newport. His life had come full circle, but that hotel room seemed like another lifetime. It was another lifetime, a lifetime in which he was not in love with a man who didn’t love him back.

He collapsed into the bed still wearing his clothes, too exhausted to care. He fell into a fitful sleep, comforted by the sound of Colt’s soft snores coming from the other bed.

B
RAN
watched the door close behind Evan, but he couldn’t feel it. Couldn’t feel anything. He felt as if he was watching a scene in someone else’s life, like the vision before him was from a sick movie. He was totally numb.