A Kind of Truth (24 page)

“You better get to it. You have eleven minutes.”

“Oh. My. God.” I blinked to clear my lust-hazed vision and felt inside my back pocket for a condom. I could only hope it was lubed. I hurriedly opened the packet and rolled the latex over my rigid cock.

“Do it.” He pushed back so the head of my dick rode his crack.

I spit on my fingers, then eased one inside him. I watched him carefully in the mirror to gauge his reaction. He didn’t move until I curled the digit and stroked his sweet spot. His eyes took on a hedonistic look of pure ecstasy. I added a second finger and more saliva, still amazed he didn’t comment. He moaned as he stroked himself. Then he reached for my cock, lined it against his hole, and pushed.

“Fuck, Will.” I set my hands on his hips and held him steady for a moment until he nodded and pushed backward.

The motion was a slow in and out, give and take. Inch by inch I made my way inside him. When I was buried balls-deep, I leaned forward and kissed the back of his neck, surging forward, then pulling halfway out. The movement was gentle but insistent. An easy rhythm and a steady pace. He let go of his cock and met my harder thrusts with his hips tilted. His unfettered movement fed the fire inside me. The urge to plunge into him and fuck him senseless was strong, but he was running the show now. I held myself still and let him fuck himself on me until he lost his rhythm and gave me a curious look in the mirror.

“Keep going, baby.”

Will’s nostrils flared. The tentative slide soon gave way to a furious bucking motion. I stroked him as he rode me hard. It took every extra ounce of energy I had to stand upright. The sight of our jeans trapped around our ankles, the feel of his thick member pumping in my firm grasp as his muscles clutched me in a vise grip was intense. But it was the reflection in the mirror of his beautiful face with his glasses slightly askew on his freckled nose that was my undoing.

I wrapped my arms tightly around his chest and lost my last thread of control. My hips snapped as my orgasm threatened. I wanted him to cum first. I was desperate to hold on. I tilted his head and bit his jaw as I strained to find his mouth. When our tongues met, that was it. I couldn’t hold back. Wave after wave pulled me under. I felt Will’s release coat my fingers and tried to keep moving, but it took every bit of strength I had left to stand upright. The violent shaking nearly brought me to my knees.

Will’s soft laugh rang out in the stone-and-marble bathroom. I looked up at his reflection with a smile, intending to join in because really… what the fuck were we doing? But my breath caught in my lungs. I swallowed hard and closed my eyes in an effort to get my balance back. He was perfect. Sweet, lovely, and so fucking beautiful. I wanted him.

And not just until August.

IRONING OUT
loose ends made it difficult to be productive creatively at first. It was as though I’d been operating a small business with a couple partners for a few years and we’d been bought by a big firm. The only thing we were responsible for now was churning out quality product. It was hard to let go of controlling the details at first. I’d been working behind the scenes dealing with logistics, as well as trying to write and perform, from the start. I fretted over basic changes, like working in a newer, nicer recording studio and having a bunch of new faces hanging around. It took some getting used to in the beginning.

On the positive side, having the freedom to give 100 percent of my time and effort to the music was electric. And sharing it with Will made it even better. Going from a couple of hours practicing a day with someone as good as Will, to playing full-time was a rush. He was by far the most superior musician we’d ever worked with. He made us better. Professionally we’d turned a corner thanks to the tall, skinny grad student with glasses who played guitar like a dream. But it was the personal side that had me in knots. He only had to look up at me after playing a complicated solo, with his sweet smile in place, and something inside me melted. It was torture not to touch him. By the end of the day, I was consumed by a hunger that left me edgy and anxious to get him alone.

I was grateful I’d splurged on my new place in Tribeca. The location was great. We could walk from the Hudson Street studios versus taking a subway to the East Village late at night, which was a huge bonus when we were both desperate for skin. And so was the luxury of leaving clothes where they dropped, drinking OJ straight from the container, and walking around naked at midnight. I’d never had a place of my own, and I loved it. Though most of the time, I wasn’t alone. Will stayed over almost every night. If anyone asked, we could claim it was a matter of convenience and lie about him staying in the extra bedroom. I doubted anyone cared, and the only ones who knew we were more than friends were Tim and Benny. Cory may have suspected, but we hadn’t discussed it. We were all caught up in the music and the moment. It was easy for us to slip into living a secret life. There was an idyllic quality to it I could liken to childhood summertime memories, like staying up late to catch fireflies and count stars.

Sure, it was hot and humid and the city was crowded. But it was invigorating. I hardly noticed pesky inconveniences, such as having no furniture. Actually, I did notice. I just didn’t necessarily want to buy any. Buying stuff felt… permanent. It felt like a statement. I wasn’t ready for statements.

“Why does the idea of buying a sofa make you sweat?” Will asked as he dodged a pedestrian walking a French poodle.

We were navigating Broadway on a Saturday morning in mid-June on a quest for inexpensive… stuff.

“Is it really necessary? I don’t want to own things I won’t need for long. There’s a difference, young man, between want and need.”

“Oh brother. Are you sure you’re qualified to preach, O’Malley?”

“Probably not, but I—is this it?”

Will pointed at the home-goods store and grasped my arm when I kept walking down the street. “Come on. You can do this. I’ll be here for support if you need me. What’s the budget?”

“Ugh. I don’t like that word.” I sighed heavily as we entered the air-conditioned store. According to Will, I should be able to find a couple of decent pieces without emptying my wallet any more than I already had.

“You should love it. Give me a number and I’ll point you in the right direction.”

“Fifty bucks.”

“Cheapskate. Try again.” He walked with purpose toward a vignette featuring a bright orange modern-style sofa with a clear acrylic coffee table. “What do you think of this? It says it’s a sleeper too. If you really want to convince everyone I’m your roomie, this might work.”

“It’s very… orange.”

“Sit on it.”

I gave him a dubious look but did as instructed. A good-looking young man with short, dark blond hair, chiseled cheekbones, and a cheery smile immediately descended.

“Hi there! Can I help you find anything?”

When I didn’t answer right away, Will took over. “Yes, we’re looking for furniture. A sofa and a coffee table to start. This guy is a little tight with a buck, so if you can keep this reasonable and somewhat painless, you may be able to make a quick sale.”

The sales guy chuckled merrily and shot a curious glance between us. “I’d be happy to help! I’m Ryan, by the way. Are you furnishing a new home or—?”

“Yes. There’s a bed, but that’s about it,” Will said.

I sat back on the orange sofa and crossed my legs while Will gave a rundown of what he thought would look best in the living room. He tried to draw me into the discussion, but when I pulled out my cell and told him I trusted his taste, he didn’t seem bothered.

“Fantastic! Let me show you a couple pieces upstairs,” Ryan gushed.

“I’ll be here, honey. I’ve got a couple e-mails I need to respond to.” I held up my cell as though it were proof of my sincerity.

Will scowled before turning to follow the enthusiastic salesman. “Okay, hon.”

His syrupy tone should have been a warning, but I was slow on the uptake sometimes. And frankly, I was thrilled to get out of a shopping venture. Yes, I needed furniture. As much as I loved my new king-sized bed, I was getting tired of standing in the kitchen to eat. A picnic or two in the middle of the great room was fun initially, but the hardwood floors were a killer. I just didn’t want to shop. Or part with money. I supposed I should have thought about that when I’d decided moving into an unfurnished luxury condo was a good idea. Typical O’Malley, I thought with a shrug.

Fifteen minutes or so later, I’d returned an e-mail, sent a few texts, and played a game on my phone. I was officially bored and ready to move on. I stood and looked at my surroundings for the first time since we’d walked in. This was an enormous warehouse-style building with exposed ducts and high ceilings. There were at least two floors, maybe three. But I couldn’t tell without exploring, and I didn’t want to. My feet felt stuck to the floor. I glanced toward a generous staircase with steel railings, hoping Will would magically appear. If I were really lucky, he’d tell me he bought a couple things and managed to keep the bill under a hundred bucks.

I sighed heavily when a full minute passed and it was clear my wish might not be granted. I meandered the downstairs area, looking for the cute, nerdy guy with glasses wearing a
Harry Potter
T-shirt. No luck. I trudged upstairs and did a brief survey of the area before I found Will and Ryan chatting away. As I approached I heard bits of their conversation about textile durability and how much sun the living room gets. Yawn. I considered sneaking downstairs and texting him from the Starbucks on the corner, but something about the way the two men had their heads bent over the swatches stopped me. They were laughing as they perused the large ring of colorful fabrics. I couldn’t tell what the joke was until I closed the distance, but from a purely observational point of view… they looked good together. Like they fit. They were both clean-cut, well-dressed, and even looked to be about the same age. I felt a surge of emotion I didn’t have a name for, but I didn’t like the feeling. At all.

“…he always wanted it that way. You get used to not doing it all the time, but when it’s gone, it’s all you can think about,” Ryan said in a soft voice. I missed the next line, but whatever it was made them both chuckle. Wait. Weren’t they talking about sofas?

“I can’t imagine not doing it. I’m obsessed!”

Doing what? It? Was this a sex conversation? No way. That wasn’t Will’s style. He was too private and straitlaced to joke about sex with a random salesman.

“You have good hands for it. I bet….”

Whoa. He was flirting with Will. Not okay. I cleared my throat loudly, announcing my presence. Will turned with a gigantic grin that nearly swept me off my feet.

“Hi, honey. I think we’re almost done,” he said, putting a little extra emphasis into the term of endearment.

“Good. I’m ready when—”

“Your husband was just telling me the orange might be a bit too much for your taste so….”

I think he was still talking, but after the “
H
-word” was dropped, it was hard for me to hear. A panicky sensation overcame me. I blinked a few times and licked my dry lips before finally looking at said husband. Will’s mischievous expression and twinkling eyes were priceless. I was completely thrown off my game. In a weird way, it was like the night I recognized him in the bar wearing a dress. Sure, I’d been surprised by the dress, but it was his attitude that really got me. He possessed an underlying steely note of determination with a dose of “don’t fuck with me” that was evidence of true strength of character. No boasting or posturing necessary. There were so many facets to the seemingly reserved, uptight musician. He had the uncanny ability to make me stop and think about what the hell I was doing. And put me in my place in the most unexpected ways.

Right now, for instance, I was standing in a furniture store sweating bullets because I’d been called someone’s husband. It may have been his response to being the one stuck doing the shopping while I hung out playing
NBA Jam
on my iPhone, but there was no mistaking he had my attention now.

“Uh, yeah. It’s a little bright, but—”

“I understand. I have another book of swatches. Let me grab it real quick!”

I was ultra-aware of Will’s scrutiny, but I waited a beat before making eye contact. “Husband?”

Will busted up laughing. “You should see your face! Your coloring is a little off, sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart? Husband? Honey? What am I missing?”

“Your brain, idiot! You’re the one who rented an unfurnished condo. Not me! If you think I’m going to do your shopping while you sit around and—”

“Okay, okay. Calm down, hothead. Geesh!” I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed him tight.

“Can’t breathe,” he hissed.

I pulled back slightly and kissed his forehead with a chuckle. “Sorry. I wasn’t trying to take advantage. I’m just—”

“Lazy.”

I winced. “Only about stuff I don’t care about… like a sofa. But, husband? That’s so….”

Will grinned. “Permanent? I knew
boyfriend
wouldn’t catch your attention, so I went for the big gun. Makes you sweat almost as much as parting with a few dollars, huh? Well, think before you act next time. Don’t rent a place without furniture. Don’t drag me to—”

I shut him up with a kiss. It was meant to distract him but quickly became something more. The sound of a book hitting a desk nearby jolted us back to the real world. What were we doing making out in a public store in SoHo? This was the antithesis of keeping things on the DL. I swallowed hard and stepped back to find Ryan standing a few feet away with his hands pressed together in a prayer-like gesture. He sighed theatrically and fluttered his eyelashes.

“I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but you guys make the most adorable couple! How long have you been married?”

Will smirked and glanced at me.

“Feels like just yesterday… or six minutes ago, right, babe?”

LATER THAT
night, I lay on top of Will gasping for breath. His legs were wrapped around my ass, and his fingers were tangled in my hair. I gingerly rose on my elbow and stared down at him. We shared a smile… one that wordlessly asked how the hell we wound up here again. I kissed his swollen lips and slowly moved off him. He rolled to his side. His eyes were half-closed as he traced the artwork on my bicep, seemingly lost in thought.