I let out a shaky sigh, and Rafe groans into the crease of my thigh. “I love this,” he murmurs.
“Don’t stop,” I choke out. “Please.” Rafe licks up my dick, swirling his tongue around the head. His hair tickles my stomach, and his mouth is a tease of heat I try to chase, pressing my hips up, desperate for more contact, craning my neck to watch my erection slide between Rafe’s lips. He looks at me, hair falling around his face, dark eyes soft, and it goes right to my gut.
Then he starts to move more quickly, and I drop back onto the bed, unable to focus on anything but his hot mouth and his fingers inside me and the bloom of pleasure that opens me up and breaks me apart. Little spasms start deep inside, where Rafe’s fingers stroke into me. Bolts of sensation zing from my balls to my dick. Then it’s huge, my entire body clenching. My mouth is locked open as the heat of orgasm washes through my groin, my belly, my thighs. Shudders of pleasure tear through me, and my ass contracts around Rafe’s fingers as I spill into his mouth.
Rafe moans, and I feel his muscles tighten as he jerks himself off.
Then his hand is on my cheek, his lips on mine. He whispers something but I don’t make sense of it because I’m too blitzed to think.
Everything else has melted away. The only problem in the whole world right now is that I’m cold and I want Rafe wrapped around me.
I try and lift my arm to pull him down, but I can’t coordinate the movement. Rafe’s thumb brushes the corners of my eyes and I can feel the moisture there.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
It feels like I’m held in a cloud, everything soft and fuzzy. But it could evaporate at any moment, leaving me in free fall.
“Cold,” I finally get out.
We’re lying on top of the covers, but Rafe flips the edge of the blanket from the other side of the bed over us. We lie like that for a minute, Rafe stroking my face. Loneliness shoots through me even though he’s right there, and I start to shake. Then I start to cry. Then I’m sobbing and Rafe wraps himself around me, murmuring nonsense.
THE NEXT week passes like a dream. We wander along the beach, nap, and eat. But something’s different. I feel calm in a way I never have before. Like the moment I’m in is bearable. I don’t know how long it will last, but I’m clinging to it while it does.
This morning when we woke up, Rafe told me my brothers have left me a bunch of voice mail messages. I didn’t notice that I hadn’t seen my phone in a while, but I guess he’s seen the calls come through.
I try to work up the nerve to listen to the messages. I bet Sam’s going to rip me a new one for missing Pop’s wake. And I can already hear Brian’s confused voice, hurt because he doesn’t know where I am. There are dozens of missed calls from both Sam and Brian and the messages I expected, Sam sounding increasingly irritated and Brian more and more hurt.
It never occurred to me that Rafe meant Daniel, too.
But after Sam’s and Brian’s are two messages I didn’t expect. From Daniel.
“Hi, Colin,” Daniel says as if he were actually talking to me instead of leaving a message. “I’m so angry with you because you cheated me out of a brother. I don’t understand why you never told me. I mean, I can think of lots of reasons, but I don’t know what yours was. No matter what it was, though, I think it sucks. I think it sucks that you let me think I was alone in this, when I wasn’t. I wasn’t, was I, Colin?”
Then from last night, “Colin, it’s Daniel. Look, I’m mad at you, but I still want to talk to you, okay? I want to know what the fuck’s going on with you. Why were you so horrified when you found out I was gay? Because I know you weren’t faking that. You wanted to kill Buddy when you found us together. I just want to know why. Please call me back, okay?”
Rafe sinks down next to me. “What’s up?”
“I think… I think he really didn’t tell them.”
“Daniel?”
I nod.
“What did he say?”
“He’s mad. He, um, he doesn’t get why I was upset he’s gay since I—” I shake my head and drop the phone onto the end table. Rafe takes my hand in his and kisses my palm.
“I just…,” I start, but I can’t pull my thoughts together. I play Daniel’s messages over again in my mind. He sounded genuine. Not pissy, just… hurt. “I just don’t get why he cares, I guess. He hasn’t cared about my opinion since we were kids.”