The Guy Next Door

Chapter 16

16

ZANE

W hat the hell are we doing?

I mean, it’s obvious what we’re doing, but how did my fantasies turn into Leif sliding his lips down my cock as I lick off some of his cum from my lips? As fresh as when I lapped it off his abs, the taste sets me at ease despite how on edge my body is.

His ass already took me close, and then when I pulled out, I figured I was just going to shoot on him, when he threw me with his request, and how the hell was I going to say no to that?

As he braves farther down my shaft than the first time he made the attempt, I have to warn him, “Leif, I’m so close, I’m gonna shoot if you…”

He pulls off briefly and whispers, “Shoot in my mouth.” Then he’s back on my dick, his lips clasping around it.

His warm tongue glides across my flesh, torturing my nerves, which are already at the very edge, waiting for him to flip that trigger. And when he does, my balls and dick throb before a jolt rushes through me, heat building in my face.

“Fuck!” I call out.

As my hips jerk in a quick series of thrusts, Leif grips my ass cheeks. He’s not even halfway on my cock before I’m shooting down his throat.

The release is explosive, my mind spinning as I call out, my nerves hypersensitive as Leif bobs his head up and down quickly, then pulls back, and I hear him fucking swallow me before he licks cum off the head.

I don’t know what comes over me—hell, I’m hardly in control of my movements—but I reach down and take his chin, guiding him up until we’re face-to-face. “Open your mouth,” I tell him, and when he does, I lick his tongue for a taste. Then I grab either side of his head, burying my face into his as we’re all tongues, saliva, and remnants of us.

I should be sated after everything we did, but I can’t get enough of Leif, and I pull him back down onto the bed, making out with him, wanting to stay lost in this experience for as long as we can. Away from the real world and bullshit, the grief of the loss of my brother and the fucking fears I have about Leif’s safety.

When I finally manage to pull away, I keep my arm hooked around him, tugging against his back so his torso is tight against my body.

“That was bold,” I say as my gaze fixes on his lips.

“I was too curious not to try.” He hooks his leg over mine. “And I figured after taking a dick, what the hell, right?”

I chuckle. “Don’t know what I’m laughing about. Nothing about that was funny. Just hot.”

“Yeah, that was hot. But you liked it?” He quirks his eyebrow, and my eyes widen. I’m stunned.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now? Or just baiting for a compliment?”

“Maybe baiting a little. Wondering how it compares with the guys you’ve been with who are more experienced.”

“Okay, Leif, you can get those kinds of insecure thoughts out of your head because you’re in your own league.”

“Whoa, whoa. I wasn’t saying I was insecure. But I’m not as practiced as other people my age might be.”

“In that case, don’t worry about your inexperience because that’s part of what makes it hot too.”

I lick his lips, and he licks right back.

As my dick gets hard again, he glances down. “Seriously. You’re already good to go again. Little thing just packed with cum, aren’t you?”

“Maybe being short helps with the circulation, but yeah, doesn’t take me long.”

“Now I know what they mean by a short king.”

“Normally I don’t like people commenting on my height,” I say, and his smile shifts to a frown. “No, I meant I normally don’t, but I like you calling me a short king. That makes it sound kinda hot.”

“Oh, it is,” he assures me as his smile returns.

“I have to warn you: now that you’ve spoiled my cock, it’s gonna be expecting this kind of naughty fun all the time.”

“You could say the same about my ass.”

Now he’s got me grinning like a dork. Fuck me.

He leans close and licks my chin, and when he pulls away, I steal another kiss.

“See, and if you’d kept ignoring me, you were never going to get that,” he says, reminding me of all the tension before he first came over.

That kills my smile, and I settle on my side, resting my head on the pillow; Leif mirrors my position.

“That was supposed to be a fun tease,” he says. “I wasn’t trying to put you in a mood.”

“Sorry. Reminded me of all the bullshit in my head before you came over and sucked it out of me.”

I’m trying to lighten the mood because, really, if only it were that easy and it wasn’t still rattling around in my brain. But I think about how hard it was to confess what was on my mind to him, and that he didn’t judge me for it, just stayed here, holding my hand, wanting to know more.

“Who are you, Leif Anderson?” I meant to say that in my head, but as the words push out of my lips, I don’t stop them.

His brow furrows. “All this time watching me, and you don’t already know the answer?”

“No, I don’t.” And that kind of pisses me off. Shouldn’t I?

“Only fair because I’m wondering who you are, Zane Grayson.”

Good point.

I think about how I got off the subject earlier when he brought up my father.

It wasn’t his fault for imagining Dad was a typical loving dad, like his. How could he know any differently when I keep this so tight to my chest, along with all the other shit I carry?

I should keep it to myself, be grateful he backed off and helped me forget all the bullshit with our messing around.

But maybe it’s what we just shared. Or how he’s pressed up against me, gazing into my eyes. Or how good it felt to share other shit with him. Whatever the reason, I feel a lump in my throat, as if the words I want to say are pushing to get out. And I surrender. “Do you remember when you asked me where I learned to shoot?”

“Yes.”

“My father taught us when we were kids.” There’s a part of me saying it’s not too late to back out, but I ignore it. “Mike and I didn’t have a normal childhood. Not that there is such a thing, but from people I’ve talked to, it sounds like Mike and I had an even less normal childhood than most. Do you know what a survivalist is?”

“Like people who live in the woods?”

“Yeah, but think of that on steroids. There was a show on National Geographic called Doomsday Preppers . You ever seen that?”

He shakes his head.

“It’s about people who have bizarre ideas about how the world will end—and some maybe not so bizarre. Like, there’s someone who thought there would be a water crisis. Or the destruction of our industrial food chain. You name it, someone’s got some idea of what it might be and what they needed to do to survive.”

“I take it your dad had some idea like that?” Leif’s cautious with his wording; I can tell he doesn’t want to sound dismissive or judgmental, which I appreciate.

“Yes, but he wasn’t always like that—though we always knew something was a bit off. When Mom was alive, he still had his strange days. He’d have days where he’d disappear, which was hard on Mom. She’d act like he had to go somewhere for work. At the time, I bought it, but she always acted weird when he’d come back home. They got into fights at night, so loud we could hear them from our room. After she passed away, Dad got really into conspiracy theories—books, websites, podcasts. Anything he could get his hands on. As an adult, I can look back and see that surprise! It’s genetic, right?”

That was my attempt at a fucked-up joke, but it’s clearly not amusing to Leif, who just lies there, listening.

“Anyway, Dad sold our house. Took us to a cabin in the woods, taught us how to shoot and survive off the land. He didn’t explain the conspiracies. He would talk about them to friends who came by, but I guess he felt we were too young for it. He made out like this was all some great father/son bonding time, a lengthy camping trip. Then one day he took me out for a hunt and told me that all the countries were going to go to war, and I’d needed to know how to survive, and that I had to take care of my brother. He made me promise I’d make sure Mike stayed safe if anything happened to him, and I promised.

“I mean, I was fucking terrified. Even then, I don’t know that I believed him, but I knew he believed, which had me in a fucked-up headspace for an eleven-year-old. And we stayed in that cabin for, like, a year. And then one day Dad went off into the woods with his shotgun and didn’t come back. Mike and I waited…and waited. I was scared Dad was right and what he’d told me was really happening. This end he’d warned me about. After two days, we were running out of food, so I went looking for him, and I found him in the woods.”

Suddenly, I’m numb as the scene details flash through my mind.

Dad’s camo khakis, shoes, and flannel.

The flies. God, there were so many flies.

I push ahead in the story, hoping if I move past that point, these haunting images will fade. “Dad had a few friends he trusted and had left numbers for in case of an emergency. So we contacted one, and she came over with the cops.”

I study Leif’s expression, trying to make out what he’s thinking, and I feel his fingers against my cheek.

“Zane, I’m so sorry.”

I lean into his hand, enjoying his comforting touch.

It’s not only that; carrying that kind of thing…there’s a loneliness to it. And it’s like now that he sees it, I’m less alone.

“It was a nightmare. Child services told us they’d try to keep Mike and me together, but that didn’t happen, and we were put with different families in the foster care system.”

I reflect on the days and nights of crying, still grieving the loss of my mom, my dad…and then my brother.

“I hate myself for believing them when they said we’d end up together,” I say as fire burns in my chest. “And I fought and tried to get them not to take him away, but I was too small to put up much of a fight. And I remember feeling like I’d let Dad and Mike down.”

A warm tear slides down my temple. “Fuck,” I say, and as I’m about to move my hand off Leif to get it, he beats me to it, wiping it away with his thumb.

I watch him, wondering how a person could possibly respond to all that, or if he just wants to pry away from the guy with more issues than he could possibly know what to do with, but he hooks his arm around me and pulls me close for a hug.

Just holding me.

I thought, after digging all that shit up, nothing could ease my pain, but I was wrong. So fucking wrong.

Because I feel safe in his hold.

And when the tears start falling, he pulls away and kisses the tears away.

He can’t know this, but it’s exactly what I need in this moment. Not words or assurances that can’t possibly make up for the past, but someone to lie there with me, to know how much it burns and to sit with me in my grief.

While he’s kissing my face, I turn my head until my lips find his for another kiss.

And oh…fuck.

It doesn’t free me of the searing pain in my chest, but it dulls the burn. And the more we kiss, the easier it feels to endure. After sucking, licking, and nibbling at each other, soon our passion turns into soft pecks, until we’re nuzzling our cheeks together. I can’t even make sense of what we’re doing, but like so much of what we share, it’s driven by instincts, and I don’t give a fuck how weird we’re acting as long as he keeps close to me.

Soon, we pull away and stare into each other’s eyes.

It feels different than the other times he’s looked at me because in the past, I’ve had the security of knowing he had no idea whom he was looking at. Not really.

But now he knows far more than he should.

Finally, he breaks the silence. “I’m trying to think of something to say…but I’m at a loss for the right words. And I really don’t want to fuck this up and say the wrong thing.”

“You’ve been doing fine without words. This is what I need right now.” I tug his body so he’s even tighter against me.

“I appreciate you sharing that. It clearly wasn’t easy.”

“Yeah, easy isn’t the word for any of that. But can we leave that alone for the rest of the night? I don’t want to go back there anymore.”

“Of course.”

“Sorry for ruining what was otherwise a sexy night.”

He flips his hand over and runs his knuckles across my cheek. “That didn’t ruin anything. I like getting to know you.”

Damn. Once again, he couldn’t know what it means to hear him say that.

“Well, if you want to get to know me more, I suggest you get your ass over here more often. I want to kiss you until it hurts. Until our lips burn and our jaws hurt. I want to kiss until it doesn’t sting to pull away from your mouth. How does that sound?”

“Sounds like I need to invest in a lot of ChapStick.”

I laugh. God, I’m fucking laughing after all that.

Only you have this kind of power over me, Leif.

I take his lips once again, and I relax into him, wishing life could just be this moment. That we never had to deal with the bullshit, and we could simply get so lost in each other, I could forget all past nightmares.

As the tension I’d awakened subsides, I pull away from him. “I guess we should talk about what you need to tell your parents. That’s why you came over, right?”

“I mean, we need to figure that out, but you must know I was only using that as an excuse to make you talk to me, right?”

I laugh. “Sorry. I won’t do that to you again. If something comes up, I’ll talk to you.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

I wish he could know I truly mean it. How much he’s assured me that I can trust him with all this dark shit in me.

“Good,” he says. “So I’ve been thinking that they should know they’re in danger, but I’m worried if I say something, they’ll talk to Detective Roth, who is gonna tell them about you…”

My thoughts exactly. “Yeah. And then it’s gonna further complicate things. If Detective Roth finds out I’m here, she’s gonna freak them out. They might be able to get a protective order or worse if they find the cameras I set up. And if I have to leave…or spend time in jail, I’m not gonna be able to protect your family. And the cops sure as hell won’t be here if something happens.”

“That’s what I keep thinking.”

“I know it’s asking a lot to trust me, but, Leif, if you’re in danger, I can protect you and your family. And if this is all in my head, then you’re not losing anything by my being over here.”

He studies my face. “You’re right. It’s a big ask—”

Fuck. “Then tell them. You should do whatever you think is right. And I’ll—”

He kisses me again, silencing me with a sweep of his tongue before he pulls away and looks me in the eyes. “You didn’t let me finish. I was going to say that it’s a big ask, but that I do trust you.”

Being inches from his face, gazing into his eyes, I don’t doubt his words. “I won’t let you down, Leif.” It’s my promise as I attack his lips yet again.

It’s a significant promise, but I’m more determined than ever. I may not have been able to protect my brother, but I will protect Leif. And this person who’s after him will lay a hand on him over my dead body.