Love is heartless, p.21
Love Is Heartless, page 21
“You don’t own this building, do you?” Nevin asked as they walked to his door.
“Nope. We don’t do apartments. We do condos and townhomes, and mostly we sell those.”
“What about Mrs. Ruskin?”
“We own some rental houses too. Just a few. Dad started out as a landlord, so we have some long-term tenants like her.” He sighed. “They never caught whoever killed her.”
“Not yet,” Nevin replied with more confidence than he possessed. In reality, Homicide had little evidence and no leads. The best theory was that it had been a burglar, although why the perp ran off without stealing shit was anyone’s guess.
He unlocked his apartment and held his breath while Colin looked around.
There wasn’t much to see. It was a basic one-bedroom with generic furniture. Nevin kept it neat and clean, and he didn’t have enough possessions to create clutter. Even his kitchen tended to be bare because he rarely cooked, and when he did, the meal was basic. A couple of pots and pans sufficed.
“Minimalist” was Colin’s comment.
“Never picked up the habit of accumulating crap.” When moving from place to place as a kid, he needed to fit all his belongings into a plastic garbage bag. And when he and Ford moved in together, neither of them had the money to buy anything but essentials. Since then, well, what was the point? He didn’t need much, and buying things didn’t make him feel fulfilled.
Colin stopped to stare at a sketch of a house. Nevin had tacked it to the wall earlier that week, and when he realized what Colin was seeing, he hurried over, intending to tear it down.
But Colin caught his arm. “Don’t!”
“It’s just a shitty—”
“It’s our house. The one where we made—”
“The one where we fucked on the floor. So what?” He folded his arms and hoped his skin was too dark to show his blush.
Colin smiled crookedly. “It’s good.” He held up a hand to stop any protests, then spent a good ten minutes carefully examining every damn drawing in the room. He asked questions about them and scowled until Nevin answered every one.
“This is why I don’t bring people here,” Nevin said.
“Get over yourself, Nevin. I like these. I mean, I’m not an art critic or anything, but they seem well-done to me. And they have character. Like this one.” He waved at a doodle of Julie with wings.
“They’re fucking stupid.”
“No, they’re not. You don’t think so either, not really, or you wouldn’t have hung them up. And should I point out that they’re all houses or vehicles?”
“You promised we could skip the therapy.”
“I guess I did,” said Colin, coming closer. He laced his hands behind Nevin’s head, and they stood there chest-to-chest, just breathing. Nevin liked that Colin was only a few inches taller than him, but even more, he liked that Colin managed not to loom.
Taking a deep breath, Nevin stretched his palm over Colin’s chest. If he pressed gently, he could feel the heart beating, even through the fabric of Colin’s shirt.
“See?” Colin whispered. “Still ticking.”
“Did you know how bad it was, when you were a kid? Did you know you might die?”
“Yeah. Mom and Dad believed in being straightforward. I mean, they sugarcoated things when I was really little. Nobody wants to scare the crap out of a three-year-old. But they were up-front with me when I got a little older. I would have guessed anyway. You can tell how serious things are by the way the doctors and nurses act.”
“You were scared.” Nevin remembered his own abrupt journeys in strangers’ cars, the feeling of spending the night in a house where he knew nobody, the knowledge that if he fell, he had nobody to catch him. And fuck, the uncertainty and frustration of a life out of his control.
“I’m not scared now.” Colin kissed him, sweet and soft at first, just a butterfly brushing of lips. Then harder. He licked Nevin’s mouth before entering, and Nevin sighed like an ingénue at her first ball.
And the thing about Colin—well, one thing about Colin—was that Nevin didn’t always have to be strong around him. Nevin had built defenses for so long that he didn’t remember laying the first stones, and he’d built them carefully. But when Colin was near, Nevin could unlock the gates, could… well, maybe not venture outside, but he could at least allow someone in.
To his immense shock and mortification, a sob escaped from his lungs. Just one.
His eyes remained dry, but Colin kissed his eyelids anyway and nibbled on the shell of his ear. “Will you take off your clothes?” Colin asked.
Yes. Good idea.
Colin shed his coat and tossed it onto the couch. Then he waited, eyebrows raised and the corners of his mouth turned up in a small smile. Apparently he expected Nevin to put on a show. Fine. Doable.
At first Nevin kept his movements slow, unfastening each button with care. But by the time his shirt was on the floor and his shoes and socks lay scattered, he had grown impatient. He skimmed out of his pants and underwear quickly and stood, hands on hips, allowing Colin to inspect him.
“Turn and face the wall,” Colin said.
“That’s my line.”
“Not tonight.”
Fuck. The apartment wasn’t chilly, yet Nevin’s flesh broke out in goose bumps when he placed his palms on the plaster and slightly spread his legs.
Apparently Colin was nothing but patient tonight. He stalked closer—all that time spent with a cat—and stopped near enough for his breath to tickle Nevin’s hair. He settled his hands on Nevin’s hips and began to lick and nip at Nevin’s nape.
Within moments Nevin had to lean against the wall for support, arousal making his breath come in gasps. Colin worked his body with painstaking care, mouthing at shoulder blades, at spine, at ribs. Whenever Nevin tried to turn around and touch him, Colin pinned him in place with one hand on the small of Nevin’s back. And yes, Nevin was stronger, and he was trained in fighting techniques. But that one gentle palm was enough to trap him.
Just when Nevin was about to give in and beg, Colin dropped to his knees and started licking the globes of Nevin’s ass. He kneaded the heavy muscles as he traced his tongue cleverly, and when Nevin moaned and spread his legs wider, Colin pointed that tongue and stuck it into the crack.
“Jeeesus.”
“Do you want this, Nev?”
“God yes. Please.” Even though he never pleaded, the words fell easily now. “Please don’t stop.”
Colin didn’t. While Nevin pressed his forehead to the wall and pushed out his ass, Colin licked and nibbled and fingered. Over, around, and then just the smallest bit in. Nevin’s position was dirty—naked, desperate, dripping with spit and sweat and precome—with Colin still fully clothed behind him, smoothing with one hand even while he intruded with the fingers of the other.
With his own hands still flat beside his head, Nevin closed his eyes and concentrated on staying upright.
When Colin stood and moved away, Nevin almost cried. Then he heard a series of unmistakable sounds: a zipper opening, a foil packet being torn, a plastic cap being popped. “Oh fuck, yes,” he groaned.
Colin was damnably careful. He tongued Nevin’s ass until the opening was relaxed and tingling, then used his fingers and so much lube that Nevin could almost taste it. It took Nevin’s strongest will not to beg or swear, not to grab his own throbbing cock and start tugging. His patience was rewarded when Colin finally, slowly, pushed his latex-covered cock inside.
Even with all the preparation, it took a few moments for Nevin to adjust to Colin’s girth. He was stretched and filled, with just enough zing of pain to keep him grounded. Colin remained still, panting in Nevin’s ear, caressing the points of Nevin’s hips. He’d done nothing more than shove his jeans and underwear down to his thighs, and Nevin found the sensation of the clothing against his bare skin breathtakingly erotic.
“Move,” Nevin rasped.
After wrapping his fist around Nevin’s cock, Colin obeyed, first rocking his hips slowly and shallowly, but soon going harder and deeper. Nevin encouraged him by angling his ass even more. And pretty soon Nevin was hanging on for dear life, his senses flooded and his brain completely useless.
“Now,” Colin said between grunts. “Close.”
Nevin was close too, and he wanted to assure Colin that he was pounding him just right—hitting that sweet spot inside and stroking just hard enough on Nevin’s dick. But language eluded him, so he mewled instead. He figured Colin got his drift.
A little faster, a little more. Just on the edge of too much but balancing, balancing. Until Colin scraped his teeth along Nevin’s shoulder and Nevin fell, hard and fast. Only the wall and Colin’s grip kept him from collapsing.
“Oh, fuuuuuck!” Colin howled. For a moment he remained still, as deeply inside Nevin as he could get, and then he sighed and sagged onto Nevin’s back. Both of them dropped in slow motion to the floor, limbs tangled. Colin was no longer inside Nevin, but they held each other until their pulse rates calmed. Colin carefully removed the rubber, and when he seemed at a loss as to what to do with it, Nevin tied it off and tossed it aside.
Colin giggled. “See? My heart holds up just fine.”
“But you’ve picked up my vocabulary. And were you this assertive with douche bag?”
“Trent? No. Our sex life was sort of a paint-by-numbers thing. Uncreative.”
That was immensely satisfying. “Yeah? You seem pretty goddamn creative to me.”
Colin kissed Nevin’s temple. “With you, sure. Trent appreciated my penis size and… when he dumped me, he said I’m a nice guy. Ugh. I think as far as he was concerned, I was easy to deal with and well hung. And to be fair, he was easy for me too. You’re not.”
“Is that good?”
“I’m bare-assed on a floor with you for the second time this week, Nev. I think that speaks for itself.”
“I’m a difficult asswipe, so you boss me around when we fuck?” Nevin knew that wasn’t it, yet he had to push, like poking a tongue at a sore tooth.
But Colin kissed him again and ruffled Nevin’s hair. “Not difficult, just complicated. And I boss you around when we make love because we both get off on it. I figure when someone’s been in charge of himself—in charge of everything—as long as you have, it’s nice to give up the driver’s seat now and then.”
God, it really was. Nevin didn’t say so, instead cupping Colin’s face and leaning their foreheads together.
Colin ended up spending the night, which nobody but Ford had ever done before. His presence gave Nevin’s dull apartment more life, as if his colorful self might rub off on white walls. And speaking of rubbing off on walls, Nevin was going to have to scrub his in the morning. He fell asleep in his queen-size bed, holding Colin and smiling at the thought.
IT WAS startling to wake up with a naked man in his bed, but it was awfully damned pleasant. Sleepy Colin was adorable with pillow-mussed hair and a lazy smile, and when he reached over to poke a finger against the tip of Nevin’s nose, Nevin didn’t even bite him.
“Legolas is going to be so pissed off at me,” Colin said.
“He doesn’t like when you do sleepovers?”
“I never do sleepovers. And it’s past his breakfast time.”
“What about when you were dating douche bag?”
Colin sat up, yawned, and stretched. “He’d come over to my place.”
“Was he hiding secrets at his?” Nevin narrowed his eyes and imagined how satisfying it would be to throw the douche bag in jail for hurting Colin.
“No, I don’t think so. We just always seemed to end up at my loft.”
“It was easy.”
Colin shrugged. “Guess so.” He got out of bed and stretched again—a lovely sight—then started gathering his clothes from the night before. His movements were languid, his face carrying the serene expression of a man who’d had really good sex not too many hours before.
While Colin put on his underwear and jeans, Nevin focused on the pink line bisecting his chest. “Did douche bag dump you because of your heart?”
Pausing with his shirt in hand, Colin gazed at him steadily. “Partly, yeah. Our parents have been friends for years, so he knew about it even before we started dating. But there are some things I have to be careful about. I don’t ski. I’ve never been comfortable at the idea of traveling too far from home—from my doctors, I guess—so I wasn’t going to join him at some chalet in the Alps. He felt like I limited him.”
“Fuckwad.”
“Well, there was more to it than that.” Colin slipped into his shirt and began fastening the buttons. “He’s vice president in a tech company—”
“You’re a veep too. It says so on your office door.”
“But Trent doesn’t work for his daddy. He’s a mover and shaker. I’m not.”
Nevin hopped out of bed so he could capture Colin’s hips and draw him close. “I think you move and shake damned well.”
Colin laughed. “I knew you’d say that. Look, forget about Trent. He’s ancient history. And I am so glad he dumped me, because now I have you. For now!” he added hastily. “I’m not implying you have to—”
“I know.”
“Anyway, I’d trade a lifetime with Trent for a few months with you.”
“Smooth talker. You just want to get in my pants.”
Colin slid his palms over Nevin’s naked ass. “You’re not wearing any.”
It was soon after that when Colin’s clothing came off again. And across town, Legolas was surely waiting impatiently for his very belated breakfast.
Chapter Nineteen
November 2015
THEY WERE dating. Going steady like a teenage couple in one of Colin’s stupid old musicals. Nevin had avoided the terrifying word boyfriend and the deadly one, love, but by early November, he had to admit that he and Colin were a thing. They spent weekends together—except when Colin had family commitments—and some weeknights as well. And on evenings when they didn’t see each other, they called or texted. They had lots of sex and watched movies. Nevin spent countless hours petting the damned cat. They went out to dinner and even spent a day at the coast, watching a storm whip the waves. And one night Colin brought him flowers. Goddamn flowers.
It was all warm and wonderful and amazing, and because Nevin looked so happy, people at work were beginning to ask him what was wrong.
And of course he was scared shitless the entire time.
A week into November, on a damp Saturday afternoon, Colin and Nevin were on Colin’s couch, riding the waves of postsex bliss. Nevin lay naked atop Colin, with a microfleece throw pulled over them both and Legolas curled near their feet. “If my heart did give out, I’d want it to be like this,” Colin said.
“Don’t joke about that shit.”
“I mean it. This is good, Nevin. Just about as good as it gets.”
After a moment Nevin braved the waters. “Just about?”
Colin sighed heavily enough to jostle Nevin. “I haven’t met anyone in your life. And you’ve met hardly anyone in mine.”
Over the past weeks, Colin had introduced Nevin to a couple of his friends over pints at a brewpub. That had been pleasant enough, but of course those people weren’t family. Colin had told his family about Nevin, and by all accounts, they were eager to meet him—meet him properly, in the case of Colin’s father—but the very idea made Nevin panic.
“Sorry,” Colin said. “I didn’t mean to bring it up. But it has to happen eventually. I mean, if there is an eventually.”
Colin deserved far more than the half-assed promises Nevin had made, and Nevin wanted to reassure him. But he couldn’t.
Beneath him, Colin stretched. “I have to pee.”
“I’m too comfortable to move.”
“You won’t be very comfortable if I pee on you.”
Grumbling and clutching the blanket, Nevin peeled himself off Colin. He got to watch Colin walk away, though, which was always a treat. And when Nevin sat back down, he picked up his phone and sent a hasty text.
“Something up?” Colin asked when he returned. It was a pleasure watching him approach too.
“How about if we shower and get dressed?”
“With a goal in mind?”
“Early dinner.”
Judging by Colin’s expression, he was aware there was more to it than that. But he was a master at knowing when to push Nevin and when to let things go, so all he did was nod. “Okay.”
Colin’s shower enclosure was big enough for both of them, and they often shared. Colin liked to joke that they were conserving water, but they usually used quite a bit by the time they were done groping and petting and fooling around. Today was more businesslike, not counting when Colin gave Nevin’s ass a few healthy squeezes.
Somehow Nevin had repeatedly left changes of clothing at Colin’s place, along with a toothbrush and hairbrush. And Colin never complained about tossing Nevin’s clothes in with his own when he did the laundry. Now, Nevin pulled on a pair of jeans—and one of Colin’s T-shirts.
“Sweeney Todd?” Colin asked, grinning.
“My favorite musical.” They’d watched the movie together three times, Colin singing along the whole time. Colin had hesitantly suggested they see a live performance—there was one scheduled for June—and Nevin had cautiously admitted it was a possibility.
Colin opted for a Captain America shirt. Once he was dressed, he fed Legolas while Nevin refilled the water bowl. They ventured outside to where Julie was parked in a perfectly legal spot.
As they drove east and over the river, Colin hummed. Nevin was abashed to realize he recognized the song—from one of Colin’s Disney films—and he even knew a few of the lyrics. Jesus. When he’d first met Mrs. Ruskin’s bow-tied landlord, he never would have predicted that five months later he’d be in a car with that landlord, on his way to certain doom.
All right, perhaps doom was overstating things a bit. Nevin willed his hands to loosen on the steering wheel before he cracked it. “How are your projects going?” he asked, hoping Colin would ignore the strain in his voice.
