Take Me Always

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Authors: Ryan Field

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Take Me Always

 

A Ravenous Romance™ Panamour™ Original Publication

 

Ryan Field

 

A Ravenous Romance™ Panamour™ Original Publication
www.ravenousromance.com

 

Copyright © 2009 by Ryan Field

Ravenous Romance™ 100 Cummings Center Suite 123A
Beverly, MA 01915

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in whole or in part without written permission from the publisher, except by reviewers who may quote brief excerpts in connection with a review.

ISBN-13: 978-1-60777-220-0

 

This book is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

 

Chapter One

 

The best idea Kadin Mulroney had in a long time came to him while he was

 

preparing to return to his room. He raised his eyebrows and bent forward to touch his

 

partner’s hand. “I’m going to start a personal blog,” he said, “I have a story to tell, and I

 

think you’re going to like it.”

 

“A blog?” Gregory asked. He was wearing a red crewneck sweater with beige

 

slacks and brown leather loafers. But he didn’t know he was anyone’s partner. He leaned

 

forward in the chair and twisted his upper body sideways; his feet were crossed at the

 

ankle, knees spread apart.

 

Kadin smiled and patted Gregory’s soft hand a few times. His fingers looked

 

longer and thinner now. “A personal blog is a diary or a journal, but on the computer

 

instead of paper. Brandon taught me all about blogging the last time he came to visit from

 

New York.”

 

Brandon was the oldest of their three children. But when Kadin mentioned his

 

name, Gregory looked out the window and stared at the grounds. The leaves were just

 

turning red, yellow, and orange in Savannah, and the late afternoon sun was going down.

 

“I see,” Gregory said. His eyes followed two squirrels chasing each other up a tall

 

oak. His mouth was half open and he tapped his bottom lip with his finger.

 

Kadin knew Gregory didn’t recognize him that afternoon. He was just a nice man

 

who came to visit every now and then with chocolates and hard candies. “Yes,” he said,

 

“I’ll start writing it tonight, and bring my laptop tomorrow and read it to you. I know you’re going to enjoy this story.” He wasn’t an expert with computers, but for a man his

 

age, he was proud that he’d learned how to send e-mails and that he knew enough to read

 

all his favorite newspapers online. His laptop also kept him connected to his family and

 

the rest of the world.

 

Gregory tilted his head to the side and folded his hands on his lap. The blank stare

 

wasn’t as obvious today. But it was still there. “What’s the story about?” he asked.

 

This was the first time he’d seen a hint of curiosity in Gregory’s eyes in a long

 

time. “It’s a simple love story,” Kadin said. “And it’s about two handsome young men

 

who lived in Savannah a long time ago.” He didn’t speak down to him, but he spoke

 

more slowly than usual, keeping his voice low and even. And he chose his words with

 

care so he wouldn’t frustrate or alienate Gregory. He never knew what would set him off.

 

He might start screaming, and tears could roll down his cheeks at any given moment.

 

Sometimes it could be something as simple as the wrong chocolate bar. Once he’d

 

thrown chairs around the sunroom because he couldn’t figure out how to button his

 

favorite cardigan sweater.

 

But now, Gregory smiled for the first time that day. “I think I’d like that,” he said.

 

Then he leaned forward so the nurse on the other side of the room wouldn’t hear him and

 

asked, “Are these guys good looking, too?” They were from a generation that didn’t

 

discuss these topics openly in mixed company.

 

Kadin laughed and said, “These two guys were the hottest guys who ever walked

 

the streets of Savannah.” He leaned in a little closer and said, “And they couldn’t keep

 

their hands off each other.” Gregory looked at the nurse, then back at Kadin. When he turned his head fast, a

 

shock of sandy blond hair, now peppered with white, fell across his forehead. He cupped

 

the side of his face with his right hand and asked, “Is there a lot of love in the story?”

 

Kadin leaned forward and whispered, “Plenty.” He knew Gregory was really

 

referring to sex, but “love” was the polite way to phrase it. Gregory had always been a

 

well-mannered Southern gentleman.

 

Gregory rubbed his palms together and smiled. “Ah, well…this sounds like it

 

could be very interesting.”

 

Then Kadin tapped his shoulder a few times and turned to leave. It was getting

 

late and he knew the nurses liked to get Gregory settled for the night by seven. He didn’t

 

hug him or kiss him, because that kind of intimacy would seem out of place from a

 

stranger. And that’s what Kadin was now, a total stranger. Gregory could recall some

 

things that had happened in the past six months, but their past forty-five years together

 

were now a blank canvas. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said.

 

Gregory stood up and shook his hand. “Thank you for stopping by,” he said,

 

“You’re a very nice man. You do a good job here.” He thought Kadin was one of the staff.

 

The day before, he’d thought he was one of the doctors.

 

After that, the nurse took Gregory to his room, and Kadin shuffled back to his

 

room, passing nurses and technicians who were now the only friends he saw regularly.

 

They smiled and nodded, murmuring things to each other when he was out of earshot. To

 

most of them, Gregory and Kadin were a novelty. It wasn’t every day you met two gay

 

men who had been together for more than forty years. Especially when you considered

 

the fact that Kadin didn’t have to be there. When he’d finally decided to admit Gregory to a nursing home, he’d voluntarily taken a room of his own so he could be near him at all

 

times. Their three children had been against him living there, but it was the only way

 

Kadin would agree to put Gregory in a nursing home.

 

He had no regrets. He slept well at night, because he still spent his days with the

 

man he’d loved for the better part of his life. Sometimes they talked about the weather,

 

sometimes they talked about the food, and sometimes they just sat there in silence staring

 

out the window at squirrels. Kadin made sure Gregory’s medications were always correct,

 

that he ate decent, balanced meals, and that he was never alone. It didn’t matter that he

 

didn’t know who Kadin was. All that mattered was that Kadin knew who he was.

 

But more than that, it didn’t matter anymore that he was eighty and Gregory was

 

only seventy; there were no more rules to follow. Gregory had many bad days, and some

 

good days when he could actually remember some details of the life they’d shared. And

 

Kadin didn’t want to miss the good days.

 

Chapter Two

 

On Friday nights in 1956, Kadin Mulroney would secretly drive his red Cadillac

 

convertible twenty miles north of Savannah to a small picnic area at the side of the road.

 

He hired a babysitter to stay with his three children for a couple of hours, and he’d tell

 

her he was going out with a few friends to see a movie, or that he was playing poker and

 

he’d be back before eleven. He was always freshly showered and casually dressed in a

 

white short-sleeved shirt. His thick black hair was always combed back and puffed a little

 

at the top. And he smelled like lemony aftershave and peppermint chewing gum.

 

The picnic area was dark and private, with four gray, weathered picnic benches

 

surrounded by tall, dense trees. There were usually five or six other cars in the parking

 

area on any given night of the week. The men in the cars were various ages, but they all

 

went there for the same reason Kadin went: to meet other men like themselves. Because

 

in 1956, in the Deep South, the most important word for men who wanted to meet other

 

men for sex was
discretion
.

 

One night in early November of that year, Kadin went there on a Friday night and

 

pulled in at the end of the parking area near the last picnic bench. There was a chill in the

 

air, but it was still warm enough to leave the windows open. He turned off the headlights

 

and switched off the ignition. Then he lit a cigarette, leaned his left arm out the window,

 

and sat back against the seat to wait. It was quiet for a while. There were only two other

 

cars there. From what Kadin could see, one of them was empty and the other had fogged

 

windows. But twenty minutes later, an older, black Hudson pulled into the picnic area and

 

parked in front of him. He couldn’t see what the driver looked like, but he could see him

 

adjusting the mirror and looking back.

 

Another fifteen minutes passed before the driver’s door of the Hudson opened

 

slowly and a young man stepped out. He didn’t turn back and look at Kadin directly, but

 

he did linger outside the car for a few minutes so Kadin could see what he looked like.

 

He was wearing tight black pants, a plain white T-shirt and black lace-up shoes. He

 

purposely crossed to the back window of his car and leaned all the way over to remove a

 

smudge on the glass with his fingers. When he stretched his arm all the way out, the T

 

shirt rode up and exposed his bare waist. His pants were so tight, they hugged his firm,

 

round buttocks. He arched his back and spread his legs, smiling quickly in Kadin’s

 

direction.

 

Then he stepped back from the car and stretched his arms all the way in the air.

 

His body was thin and solid; he looked to be in his mid-twenties. He lingered there for

 

another minute, then looked through the windshield and into Kadin’s eyes. He put his

 

hands in his pockets and walked toward the picnic bench closest to the woods. Kadin

 

rubbed his jaw and watched. His heart began to race like it always did when he saw an

 

ass he could hammer. When the guy reached the picnic bench, the only thing Kadin could

 

see were shadows. The guy lifted his arms slowly and removed his T-shirt, then he leaned

 

back against the picnic table and lit a cigarette. When he inhaled, his lifted his head high

 

and blew out a long stream of smoke.

 

Kadin licked his lips and got out of the car; his penis already semi-erect. He lit

 

another cigarette and started walking toward the picnic bench near the dark woods. By the time he got there, the young guy had removed all his clothes—a very bold move,

 

indeed. He was sitting on the picnic table stark naked, with a cigarette dangling from the

 

side of his mouth, holding his erection. When he looked up at Kadin, he smiled and

 

spread his legs. “Hey, buddy,” he said. His voice was a soft stage whisper, with an

 

obvious feminine quality that sounded like a bad imitation of Marilyn Monroe. The

 

cigarette was between his middle and index fingers, his arm was high, and his hand went

 

all the way back with an exaggerated gesture.

 

Kadin smiled and stared down at his shoes. “Hey,” he said. His own voice was

 

deep and strong, and he held his cigarette between his thumb and index finger. This was

 

the first time he’d seen anyone so daring at the picnic area. Most guys usually just pulled

 

down their zippers and dropped their pants to their ankles for a quick blow job. But this

 

one was different—it was the first time Kadin had ever seen someone bold enough to

 

strip naked next to a picnic bench. Evidently, he wasn’t shy about wanting a man that

 

night and he was willing to go all the way to prove it.

 

The young guy jumped down from the bench and stood on his tiptoes, as if he

 

were wearing invisible high heels. When he moved to where Kadin was standing, he

 

reached out and pulled down Kadin’s zipper without asking for permission.

 

And Kadin didn’t object. First he cleared his throat and coughed. Then he spread

 

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