[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
." Brett's breath grazed his cheek, all warmth andsmug coyness."You wanna come over?"His timing was incredible."Oh& oh, shit, yes!"Giving up, Tommy thought, had never been sweeter.He looked over at Brett as he moppedup and tucked himself back into his jeans."Hell, yeah.What time?" TOMMY supposed, as he pulled away, that he ought to feel guilty.He ought to be ashamed,leaving the house, the family&.He had responsibilities, he knew that.Obligations.Unfortunately, all that shamed him was just how much he was looking forward to gettingaway.Maybe there's something spiteful in me.Something angry, malicious& ugly.It had sparked upwhen Scott complained about him going out, when their mother got that pinched, martyred look shegot every time he made his own plans.No.They owed him this, didn't they? One freaking night.Hedeserved it.He deserved just one chance& because that's what Brett gave him.One chance to feelright.It had been nearly a week since Tommy had seen him last.It sucked, but they'd both beenbusy.He had to expect that.He kept telling himself it would only get more difficult.And it wouldn'tlast forever.Only until fall, when Brett went to Washington.Even so, his hands were shaking on thewheel by the time he pulled up at Brett's place.God, when did this last happen?"Hi, stranger." Brett grinned as he opened the door, and he looked so good in graysweatpants and a well-worn cotton tee, washed-out red fabric hugging his arms.Tommy licked his lips."I brought beer.""Great.C'mon.Roscoe, get in." The German Shepherd, busily sniffing Tommy, wagged his tail and padded obediently afterBrett.Tommy followed on behind.Inside, the house seemed clean, yes, but unpolished.Pictures hung on the walls, familyphotographs with dust on the top edges of the frames and generic modern prints that filled up theblank spaces on cream walls.There were even a few bedraggled houseplants.They sat on the comfortable, deep couch in front of the natural stone fireplace in the familyroom, Roscoe flaked out in front of the flames and Tommy feeling like he'd never been so far awayfrom anyone.It made him nervous, all of this.This casual comfort.Brett opened two beers, and theysplit a frozen pizza that had already been in the oven when Tommy arrived.Brett had rented amovie: X-Men, with Hugh Jackman.It raised a smile that he'd remembered that throwaway line ofTommy's, and the whole thing felt so& nice.Unpretentious.And Tommy couldn't have been moregrateful to him for that.Gradually, as he sat curled up on the couch next to Brett, not really paying too muchattention to the climax of the film excepting the parts where Jackman had at least some of hisclothes off Tommy felt less numb.He didn't rationalize it, couldn't pretend to understand it; itwas like coming back to himself after being knocked out for an operation.So much held inside, andall Brett did, if he even knew it, kept him grounded and sane.Anchored him.Tommy leaned closer,wanting very much to sink into him and never surface.He kissed Brett's neck."When do they come home?""Relax.Not 'til the morning.We got as long as we want.""Long enough?""Maybe."THE credits rolled, and Brett closed his eyes.Tommy's mouth nuzzled his neck, those lean hands slipped under his shirt, and it felt so good.He lifted his arms, making it easier for Tommy tostrip him, winding his fingers in Tommy's hair as kisses peppered his chest.It surprised Brett that itcould seem both so new and so familiar.Just like the night at Beaver Creek, only with the comfortsof soft upholstery and heating.Nerves fluttered in his gut as he remembered what he'd said up at thecampground about lumbar support.Roscoe cocked an ear and whined softly but apparently couldn't be bothered to move from infront of the fire."I think your dog's offended," Tommy murmured, taking his hand out of Brett's pants.Brett laughed, too out of breath to actually speak.He knew there'd be more room on his bed,though actually taking Tommy in there kind of scared him.It was nerve racking, with the feeling ofritual about it, like something irrevocable.Brett tried to shake it, tried to tell himself how stupid thatsounded, but it didn't help.God, he wanted this, but it still felt so fast.Brett shut the bedroom door behind them.It shouldn't feel fast.It had taken a little over eight weeks to get here, week after week ofwaiting, and maybe that explained it.The waiting.He leaned back against the door.Tommy pulledhis shirt over his head, and the sight of that body bypassed Brett's eyes and headed straight to everynerve ending he possessed.The deerskin thong he'd seen before hung around Tommy's neck, two burnished jasper beadsand a tiny silver disc nestling in the hollow between his collarbones.Brett thought himself ugly nextto all that tawny, smooth skin, saw his own body as pallid and uneven, dappled with moles and theodd, incongruous freckle.Tommy seemed to like them, though, and he traced his fingers over everymark as if they formed some kind of three-dimensional map, some kind of blueprint he couldmemorize.On the bed, Tommy uncovered him piece by piece, and he appeared to relish the opportunityto see Brett properly this time, to be with him somewhere warm, enclosed and even if just fornow private
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
