“Sorry.” I scrubbed my hand over my face. “Don’t…don’t tell Wills I was such a…”…baby…”…worrywart, please?”
“Not a problem, Theo. Take care of yourself, okay?”
“You too, Vince. Bye.” I hung up and squatted down beside the kitten who was sitting at my feet. “He’s coming home, Miss Su.” Her ears were pricked forward, and her hind end quivered, as if she were about to launch herself at me. I opened my arms, and she leaped into them, purring and butting my chin. “Daddy’s coming home.”
* * * *
An odd thing happened as I vacuumed and dry mopped, emptied the dishwasher and changed the sheets on the bed. I began to grow angry. Four fucking weeks, and he couldn’t find the time to call me and let me know he was still alive?
And what the fuck had Vince meant when he’d said Wills had permission to call me? Why the hell should my lover need permission to call me when he was away from home?
I tramped down my anger. Rent boys couldn’t afford to get angry.
If Wills was hungry, I’d warm up the leftover pizza in the fridge, or make him some scrambled eggs if he wasn’t in the mood for pizza.
I hoped he would—
The hell with that. I wasn’t a rent boy anymore. I lost my temper and clenched my hand so tightly my nails, as stubby as they’d become from my nervous biting of them, left patterns in my palms. Frozen dinners were all that was good enough for him after what he’d put me through. And he’d be lucky if I felt generous enough to nuke them for him.
I counted to ten in Greek three times, then had to count backwards as well before I calmed down enough that my hands stopped shaking. I wanted to be able to shave without slicing my face to ribbons.
I showered, shaved, and stood before my closet, looking over my clothes. My lover probably expected me to wear something that would send him wild with passion, but I was still pissed, and I settled on a pair of button fly jeans and a flannel shirt. I didn’t bother with underwear, though. He had a tendency to remember everything. He should remember that I had told him once that I never wore underwear when I was going out on a job. Not that I was planning on doing that, but let him wonder. Let him worry.
Four. Fucking. Weeks!
“Sorry, Miss Su.” I closed her in the laundry room with her litter pan, water bowl, catnip mouse, and a blanket to curl up on. She was getting too big to spend the night in her Sherpa bag.
I heard the key in the door, and my anger dissipated. My mouth went dry, and my stomach did flips. I felt as if this was a first date, and I rushed into the foyer just as Wills let himself in.
“Hi, babe.” He locked the door behind him and let his suitcase and garment bag fall to the floor. “God, it’s good to be home. I’ve—”
I pounced on him, slammed my mouth against his, and hooked a leg around his thigh, rocking my groin against his. I wanted to crawl inside his skin. I wanted him to crawl inside mine.
There was no finesse in the kiss; I knew it, and I didn’t care that it was hot and wet and hungry, and so savage I tasted blood. But I didn’t fucking care.
The whimpers and moans were coming from my mouth, but I didn’t care about that either. He was home, he was safe, and he was kissing me back as if it had been years since he’d been kissed instead of weeks.
I finally released his mouth so we could both breathe.
“I take it you missed me?” He looked tired, but he didn’t have that drawn, exhausted look on his face, and I knew that no matter what had happened these past four weeks, it hadn’t been one of those jobs that I’d come to dread, and I got angry all over again.
“Y’think? Get naked.” I’d been so worried about him that I’d lost my sense of self. Well, no more. He bottomed for me. I was the one in charge, and I intended to remind him of that from tonight on. “Now, Matheson. I want you now.”
Wills didn’t seem to realize how close I was to attacking him. He grinned and handed me his overcoat, but instead of hanging it up, I just tossed it aside.
He grinned again, that lopsided grin, and removed his suit jacket and tie, letting them drop to the floor.
I unbuttoned my jeans, took out my cock, and stroked it, never taking my eyes off him. I needed him…I banished that thought. I’d have him, naked and wanting and aware of who was going to fuck him through the wall, through the floor, through the mattress and into tomorrow.
His eyes darkened, and a flush mounted his cheeks. He fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, and when they wouldn’t come undone, he tore at them until they popped off.
He stared at my cock. I wasn’t wearing a condom, and I waited for him to tell me to wait, that I had to suit up. He didn’t say anything, just toed off his shoes and stripped of his trousers and shorts. His hands were shaking.
I took a packet from my pocket, tore it open, and rolled it on. And I’d have sworn there was disappointment in his eyes.
Which was probably just wishful thinking on my part. I popped the top of a tube of lube, slicked my cock, spun him around and shoved three fingers into him.
After that…Sex between us had always been hot, but tonight it was a haze of lust and rut, moans and growls.