Sundae's Best (Briar County 2)

They laughed and talked and then played with Moose, but the conversation with his in-laws was never far from his mind. Deacon was proud of his decision. He knew it was the right one for him, and if his family had any issues, he’d deal with it the same way, at least for a little while. He wasn’t ready for all the questions and awkwardness that would come from being with them at the moment. But he wasn’t going to pretend Frances and Eugene’s response didn’t hurt, and he couldn’t help thinking about Nathan. This was exactly what he’d feared would happen. It was what made him leave Briar County in the first place and why he’d never come home, never told his family about him. Eventually, he did think Eugene and Frances would come around, thought they would have if they’d known about Nathan too, but he could be wrong.

Grady’s hadn’t.

Deacon looked his way. Grady was sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch, petting Moose.

The truth was, he didn’t know what to say when people asked about his sexuality. The first thing that came to mind was, who cares? Because he didn’t. While some people needed labels, Deacon didn’t. That aside, the most logical was bisexual. He was discovering it late in life, a sort of awakening, he guessed, though he still wasn’t sure if that felt right. He just knew he wanted the man currently letting a puppy lick his face, and that was all that mattered to him.

Deacon chuckled, and Grady turned his way. “What?”

“Nothing. And that’s gross. Also, I might be jealous of my own dog right now because I want to kiss you.”

“You can always kiss me. You ready for bed? We can do a whole lotta kissing there.” He waggled his eyebrows.

“Yep.” They took Moose out one more time, then put him in his crate for the night.

After a quick piss, washing their hands, and Deacon teasing Grady to make sure he brushed his teeth after Moose, Grady went to retrieve his pajamas from the stack of clothes he kept on top of Deacon’s dresser. Deacon had meant to clean out drawers for him but hadn’t yet. He’d gotten rid of his old bedroom furniture after Patricia and didn’t have her dresser anymore, and while Grady kept most of his things at his own house, a lot had made its way here.

Grady pulled off his shirt and jeans, his back to Deacon, then grabbed a pair of sweats. Deacon felt that pull inside him that always lured him toward Grady, but it was even stronger then, too powerful to control. He walked over, wrapped his arms around Grady’s middle from behind. He kissed his shoulder, rubbed his hands up and down Grady’s torso, savoring the feel of him, memorizing the rise and fall of each breath, the feeling of his rib cage, each muscle, the hair on his chest. How big and strong and hard he was compared to what Deacon was used to. Goddamn, he wanted him, so much he could hardly breathe.

“Maybe you don’t need those tonight.” He tugged the pants out of Grady’s hand and dropped them to the floor. This would be the first time they didn’t go to bed in sleep clothes.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Deacon wanted more, needed more. He needed Grady.

Deacon tugged him over to the bed, leaving the nightstand lamp on, and Grady lay on his back, watching while Deacon pulled off his T-shirt and removed his jeans. He climbed on top of Grady, chest to chest, rutting against him, the way he’d gotten used to doing. Christ, having this man beneath him felt so good…so natural, so right.

He took Grady’s mouth, swept his tongue inside, eating each and every noise he made while silently begging for more.

“Let me make you feel good,” Grady said, rough and hungry, while Deacon kissed and nibbled at his throat.

“You do. So good.”

“I have something else in mind.” And when Grady flipped him, Deacon let him. It was so different, being with someone who matched his size and strength. Someone hard in places where Patricia had been soft. He shut down that train of thought. This was his moment with Grady. He didn’t want to compare it to someone else.

Grady’s kisses were rough, but also healing, as if he was putting Deacon back together, soothing his wounds with every touch of lips and lash with his tongue down Deacon’s neck, chest, stomach, to the edge of his underwear.

Deacon’s pulse stalled out, a sharp intake of breath when Grady asked, “Can I take these off?” because they hadn’t done that yet, hadn’t taken all their clothes off when they’d spent hours kissing and rubbing off on each other.

“Yeah,” he replied.

“Let me know if it’s too much. We can always stop or slow down.” Grady’s gaze met his, and Deacon could see he meant it, that he would keep things how they were no matter how long Deacon needed. It was the kind of man he was.