Burning truth, p.16
Burning Truth, page 16
Nick was already seated at a table, sipping at a glass of red wine when the restaurant’s host escorted in Joey. He was a young man with thick dark hair swept up by a generous amount of gel, wearing a slim suit and narrow tie with the restaurant’s logo on it. His face was dotted by designer stubble, and Joey thanked him with an appreciable nod. The host gazed back with a needy look, and when he departed Joey’s eyes followed, catching more than glimpse of the guy’s tight ass. He was certainly cute enough. When Joey turned back around, he found Nick watching him with amusement.
“You just can’t help yourself, can you?”
“Not like I slept with him,” Joey said, easing into a seat opposite Nick.
“Yet,” Nick added. “So, some wine? I ordered a bottle.”
“If I wanted something different?”
“Then I’d drink the bottle myself,” Nick said.
“I’ll help you finish it,” Joey said, signaling for an extra glass from the waiter. “We’re both driving.”
Once it arrived, Nick poured and the two men hesitated as they lifted their glasses. Was a toast in order, or should they just move forward and drink? Nick answered the unasked question by taking a sip of his wine. So Joey did the same, then set it down.
“You look good, Nick,” Joey said to fill the growing silence.
“Well, it’s not like you haven’t seen me in months, right, Joey? I mean, just ten days ago I was in your bed.”
“Right, and then suddenly…you weren’t.”
“You didn’t have any trouble filling it, did you?”
Joey again drank from his glass. “Is this how this…meeting is going to go?”
“No, actually, I didn’t ask you here to fight,” Nick said, “I wanted to say good-bye.”
“Good-bye? What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’ve decided it’s time to move on. I’ve already resigned my post at the WPFD.”
“Nick, why did you do that? Why are you giving up? Look, I know I’m far from perfect and you and I…we have different needs, but I hope it’s not because of me you’re leaving.”
“Actually, it’s because of myself, finally,” Nick answered, allowing a slight smile. “You say I look good and truth be known, Joey, I feel good, having made my decision. Even before our argument last week I had begun to think that White Pine wasn’t for me. But how to remove myself from your life, that was a dilemma that plagued me…until it didn’t.”
“Where will you go?”
“Back to Syracuse, for now. But I’m also going to give myself a chance to clear my mind before I return to work. There’s this resort down in the Caribbean called Icarus. It’s for gay men only and maybe I need to get comfortable in my own skin before I can find myself comfortable in another man’s arms.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t enough.”
Nick nearly spit out his wine across the white tablecloth. “Joey Silva, I don’t think any man would dare think that of you.”
“I don’t mean physically,” Joey said.
Nick looked like he was going to reply that but instead he refilled his glass.
“What, you wanted to say something there.”
“Joey, you’re a great guy…my God, you’re hot, and with an amazing body and a zest for life that I’m not sure I have. Yes, you are physically dominant and probably gave me the hottest sex I’ve ever had. What I’m talking about is what happens after sex.”
“With me, more sex,” he said, but he was grinning.
“You know what I mean, Joey Silva. You’re not ready yet to settle down with one man.”
“Is that a crime?”
“No, what would be a crime is to deny who you are,” Nick said, “which is what I’m guilty of. I left Syracuse because my wife betrayed me with one of the other firemen, I came out, then I went to the Finger Lakes and hid my tears, only to end up in a poisonous relationship. By the time I got to White Pine, I was tired of running and trust me, you provided me with the perfect way to escape all that I needed to face. When I would fall asleep in your arms, it was like some big thick bear was protecting me. But I knew I couldn’t tame you, there was other prey out there for you to conquer.”
“You make me sound like a hunter,” he said.
“Come on, Joey, the moment Ellis Van Pelt arrived, I knew you’d have him.”
“He made the first move,” Joey said. “He also made the last move.”
“Last? What do you mean?”
“Come on, Nick, Ellis was just visiting, here to do a favor for Tucker O’Connell. He got the photographs for the calendar, and he got a little something on the side for his troubles.”
“Hardly little,” Nick remarked.
“You know, comments like that don’t help me dig deeper into myself.”
Nick laughed. “Joey Silva, you’re one of a kind, that’s for sure.”
The wine was gone. Nick drained the last of his glass and then, as he went to leave, Joey stood and he gave Nick a hug, holding it until Nick broke free. They kissed, brief and chaste, Joey’s full beard tickling Nick’s nose. Nick placed a hand on the rough whiskers, patted Joey’s face. Then he started off, only to halt mid-step when Joey called out his name.
“Yeah, Joey?”
“You’ll always be a part of our brotherhood, not so easily forgotten.”
Nick nodded, smiled. “You can’t forget me, I’m Mr. July.”
Joey Silva stared at the empty space where Nick Lynch had just stood, and it was almost like he’d never been there. Only the ring of red at the bottom of his glass indicated his presence. He drained the last of his glass, considered his next move. He decided to sit back down, perhaps order more wine, maybe even a bottle for himself. He was off-duty, his parents were out of town to see Burn play a game in Philadelphia with their daughter, so that left Joey the lone Silva, and on this night he truly was alone.
Nick was gone, and he doubted he’d ever see him again. He wished him well. Ellis was gone, too, headed back to his jet-set life, but they would hopefully meet again if the gallery show actually happened. A lot of variables rode on that, whether his father would partake, whether Burn’s handlers would allow it.
“Sir, are you expecting anyone else?”
Joey turned up and saw the cute young host staring down at him. “Oh, uh, no. This wine was good, I wonder if you wouldn’t mind fetching me a bottle, and maybe a menu.”
“Coming up,” he said, offering up a smile.
Before the man could return, Joey allowed himself a grin. He undid an extra button of his shirt, exposing a wider triangle of dark chest hair. Nick had it right, Joey Silva was who he was, virile and hungry, a beast that sought sex for his own satisfaction, but knowing also he was damn good at releasing the inhibitions of other men.
The wine arrived and the host lingered, uncorking it, pouring it, all while staring down at Joey, his eyes darting to the obvious, the fur on display from his open shirt. A slight bulge was noticeable in his pants, which Joey was pleased to see. See, they barely knew each other, but already they had something in common. Joey Silva’s huge cock was once more raging inside his pants, ready as always to go.
“What’s your name?”
“Salvatore,” he said.
Janice Silva would like that, a nice Italian boy; he wondered if he liked lasagna. Just then Joey extended a hand, their flesh connecting for the first time. They smiled at each other and Joey realized, not that he’d ever really doubted he’d be alone for long, that he would be just fine. Some fires, no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t douse.
Chapter Thirteen
Trent
The same way they fell asleep the night before, exhausted from their love-making, was how they awoke on this sunny Sunday, bodies entwined and ready for more. It was almost as if neither of them had moved during the night, their mouths locked in that final kiss before they’d drifted off for a deserved rest.
“Morning,” Trent said, staring into the dark, chocolate eyes of Angel Montero.
“Morning to you,” Angel replied. “Do I hear birds singing?”
In fact they did, the chirping song caught a drift of wind and slipped through the open window. “Spring is finally here, the chill is gone from the air.”
“Too bad, I like the way you keep me warm,” Angel said.
“Warmth is comforting, heat is even better.”
Beneath the covers, Trent could feel Angel’s cock, hard and pressed up against his thigh. He leaned in and kissed Angel, receiving back a deep embrace that filled his mouth with desire. Reaching down, he grabbed hold of Angel’s cock, wrapping its uncut thickness in his fist. Angel let out a sharp cry, only to be silenced by Trent.
“Mom’s probably awake, we have to be quiet.”
“We weren’t quiet last night.”
“That’s because she took her sleeping pill. That’s worn off by now.”
It was eight o’clock on this bright late April day, and a frisky Angel Montero nibbled on Trent’s shoulder, the feel of his goatee sending tingling signals all over his body. He was laying on his stomach, his hardening cock pressing into the mattress. Angel climbed on top of him, the length of muscular body covering his, his mocha-skin tones in direct contract to Trent’s paleness. Angel slid his hard cock against the crack of Trent’s ass, teasing him, all while brushing his chest against his back. Trent loved how the dark pelt felt, a hairy massage that had his cock already beginning to leak.
“Just do it, Angel, I need you so bad,” he said, his voice muffled against the pillow.
Angel rose, his knees straddling Trent’s hot body. From the top drawer beside the bed he reached for a condom wrapper, ripped it open with his teeth and then began to roll it down over his hard shaft. Trent watched, peeking backwards, enjoying the sensual way Angel slid on a condom, the way he secured it within the base with the aid of his dark bush.
“Oh, I love watching you do that,” Trent said.
“Savor it, my love, it won’t always be like that,” he said.
He knew, they’d discussed it. Once married, they swore never to buy, or use, a condom again. Committed meant just that, in every sense. “I know, and I cannot wait for us both to feel each other for real.”
As Angel positioned himself, Trent, caught up in the desire, said, “Why wait?”
“Why wait, what?” Angel asked. “You want me to take it off?”
“No…no, not that. The wedding. Why wait, let’s forget about a date in the future, let’s plan it sooner…”
“Trent, are you sure…”
“As sure as what you’re about to do to me.”
As though those words were magic that fused both cock and heart, Angel took hold of his cock and slipped it between Trent’s smooth cheeks. Soon his hips were pushing, the tip was piercing him, and then his thick cock was deep inside Trent. He pushed again, to make sure he’d achieved full penetration, and then he began to push up, push down, in and out. His knees were still locked against his sides, his palms flattened against Trent’s upper back. He shoved his cock again, and Trent imagined he could feel every contour of that familiar cock. Angel rocked back and forth, his hips gaining momentum as heat seemed to take possession of his actions. Trent slid against the sheets, his cock rubbing in the confines between his body and the mattress; he knew he wouldn’t last long.
He stole a look back and watched as Angel grunted with pleasure, loving how he looked. His handsome face with that sexy goatee, the dense mat of blackened fur covering his chest, his forearms, the narrow trail that swirled down his abs, it was all he could do not to spin around and change positions. Angel was locked in, he was concentrating on each thrust, on each rush of heat that brought him ever closer to climax.
“Oh, oh, oh…Angel, let me feel your chest, rub it on me.”
Angel lowered his body, the muscles of his biceps straining as he rested his chest on Trent’s back. As he shoved his hips forward, the rough scrape of his furry chest awakened a cry of delight inside Trent. He buried his mouth in the pillow to keep from screaming out, and that action seemed to press Angel further on, further, deeper, his hips alive with hunger. He brushed his chest, sliding it hard against Trent’s back, Trent begging for him to continue.
Lost in their own world of sexual pleasure, they barely heard the ringing of the telephone, Angel was so close…so close…why had the outside world intruded on their moment, why could it not just be them and the chirping birds as a soundtrack…
A second ring, a third, sounded in the room.
Just then Angel cried out and Trent could feel him explode into the condom.
He pushed once, twice, one final time, and then he was spent, falling over onto the bed, his chest heaving as he sought to catch his breath. A fourth ring had Trent suddenly reaching over to grab the phone.
“Hello…”
“Good morning, Trent, Chief O’Connell here. Hope it’s not too early.”
“Uh, no, sir, good morning. What can I do for you?”
“A moment of your time, if you please, later this morning.”
“Sure. Where?”
“My office,” Chief O’Connell said.
“Can I ask what this is about?”
“I’ll have coffee and doughnuts, just bring yourself,” he said, and then signed off.
Trent put the phone back on its cradle, a curious expression on his face.
“What was that about?”
“Beats me, the chief wants to see me.”
“Then I guess you better get ready.”
Trent was brought back to moments before, when Angel had been inside him, filling him. Climaxing. He wanted to feel the same release, he didn’t want their special morning to end just yet. He pushed Angel onto his back, and he straddled his lover. Angel’s cock was soft, but soon enough it sprang back to life, Trent raking his nails through the dense black carpet of his chest.
“I don’t want to wait,” Trent said.
“I know, about the wedding…”
“No, not just that,” and without further word he slid his ass down on Angel’s cock, and for the first time he felt him as he’d always wanted to, big, thick, filling him up. Trent rocked up, down, his ass pounding down on Angel’s crotch, the pressure mounting in both of them. He grabbed his own cock, hard in his fist, and he began to pump it, hard, harder, a furious back and forth motion that had his hand alive with heat.
He was trying to hold it in, he was trying also not to cry out when he did come.
He failed at both, as seconds later a rich gooey burst of come shot forth, long ropes of hot seed splattering all over Angel’s chest. His release was accompanied by a guttural cry that had him pumping harder on his cock, getting the last drops out of him. At last, his legs achy from being locked in position, he rose and fell back against the bed.
“So much for being quiet,” Angel said.
“What can I say…the way you felt…Angel, I never thought I would love like this.”
Angel kissed him and said, “So, when’s our wedding?”
“Today is Sunday…how about next Saturday?”
Angel’s brown eyes widened with surprise. “Do you really mean that, Trent?”
“We just made love for the first time without a condom, I’d say we’re for real.”
“Then let’s do it,” Angel said, “Our future begins right now.”
“Right. Nothing, and no one, can stop us.”
The two men fell into each other’s arms, kissing, touching, caressing bodies both smooth and hairy, and reveling in their mutual attraction. They didn’t need another release of their sexual heat, not now, for these two firefighters their hearts possessed all the flames they needed.
§ § §
Turned out, they could have fucked as loud as they wanted, because when they came down from having showered and dressed, they found the house empty and a note from Trudy pinned to the refrigerator.
BOYS: I’VE GONE TO CHURCH WITH ALBERTA WALKER, WILL PROBABLY STOP AT HER PLACE FOR COFFEE AFTERWARDS. WOULD LIKE IF ONE OF YOU COULD STOP BY LATER AND PICK ME UP. MUCH LOVE, MA.
“I’ll do it,” Angel said, “you’ve got your meeting with Chief O’Connell.”
“You’re not coming with me?”
Angel shook his head. “He didn’t ask for me.”
So Trent kissed him and thanked him for looking after his mother, and then he went out into the bright new day, the fresh air invigorating him and stimulating his mind. He was more than curious what was on the chief’s mind, figuring it had something to do with the calendar and raising the funds for the bridge repairs. Trent had volunteered to lead the fund raising for his own father’s bridge.
He got into his old truck and started the engine, pulling out into the street. Before driving off, he stole a sideways glance at his childhood home and marveled at far he had come in life. An impressionable young boy with white blond hair who used to run down the street knowing his father was soon coming home from work, anticipating sitting down to dinner with him and his mother and hearing the tales from the fire house. He thought of his mother now, lonely without the effervescent presence of Paddy Rodgers and a wave of guilt washed over him. How could he have left her alone for most of last year, first while on his personal retreat at the family cabin, then his journey across the country with Angel? She was a strong woman, she had her friends, but when it had been important—after her fall—he’d been nowhere.
He wasn’t going anywhere again.
And neither was Angel.
My God, had they really settled on a wedding date to be less than a week away?
There were so many plans to make, including making sure Chief O’Connell was free to perform the ceremony. So, he too needing to talk to the chief, he pressed the accelerator and he was soon barreling his way toward the fire station. When he pulled into the lot, both trucks were out under the bright sunshine, and the guys were washing them down, a Sunday ritual at the WPFD. Dicky was manning the hose, and Austin was looking over at him to make sure the old guy could handle it.
