Wyatt rolled his eyes. “So bossy,” he quipped, a strange weightless feeling in his chest as he dropped a kiss on Linc’s stubbly chin and headed to the bathroom.
Once he’d relieved himself, he stared at his reflection in the mirror. His hair stood on end and faint shadows formed half-moons under his eyes. And then there were the bruises… If anybody saw him, he’d never be able to convince them he’d wanted this, but each mark sent a thrill through him, served as a reminder that he belonged to Linc… at least for now.
He headed back into his bedroom where Linc lay just as he left him, on his side, eyes closed, full lips parted. Even in sleep, Linc looked intimidating, like some sleeping Roman god had wandered into Wyatt’s bed and fallen asleep. He crawled back into bed, worming his way back under Linc’s heavy arm, facing him this time, fitting his head under Linc’s chin. Wyatt’s body fit perfectly. He pressed his nose to Linc’s throat. Why did he always smell so good? And why was he always so warm?
Wyatt’s hand smoothed over the muscles of Linc’s back, working his thigh between Linc’s knees. Linc’s arms crushed him closer, his hand smoothing over Wyatt’s ass. “Don’t start anything you aren’t willing to finish, kid,” he murmured in his ear.
Wyatt shivered, nipples stiffening at just the sound of Linc’s voice. “I’m not trying to start anything,” Wyatt claimed even as he rocked against him, rubbing his half-hard cock against the groove of Linc’s hip. “You just feel so good.”
Linc chuckled, making no attempt to stop Wyatt humping his leg. “Oh, yeah?”
Wyatt nodded beneath his chin, trailing his tongue along Linc’s collarbone, enjoying the tang of his skin. “Yeah. It's kind of my new favorite thing.”
Linc leaned back, tipping Wyatt’s chin to kiss him but there was no heat behind it. “Seriously. Are you okay after what happened earlier?”
Wyatt’s heart tripped behind his ribs, his hips going still. “Yeah, I’m fine. Really. Better than fine.”
Linc examined him like the truth of his words lay somewhere on his skin. Whatever he saw seemed to reassure him. He kissed his forehead before tucking Wyatt’s head back beneath his chin. They lay there in the quiet, Linc’s fingers tracing patterns along his back and Wyatt’s hand trailing fingers along Linc’s spine.
“Can I ask you a question?” Linc asked after a while.
Wyatt’s pulse sped up, but he gave a jerky nod. “I guess so.”
“What’s the deal with your grandmother?”
Wyatt couldn’t help the surprised laugh that burst from his lips. “I’m not sure I want to know how long you’ve been lying here thinking about my nana.”
Linc chuckled. “Not long enough to cause concern… at least, I don’t think. It just seems like you don’t know her well. How does that work?”
Wyatt sighed. “I guess because we don’t know each other. She and my mom don’t get along. I don’t know why, but if I had to guess I’d say it was my dad’s fault. We used to see her at fundraisers and charity balls. She’s a pretty powerful player in certain circles, or she was until they had her declared demented and were somehow granted power of attorney.”
Linc gave his disgusted grunt, which Wyatt found sounded similar to his not-listening grunt but nothing like his horny or hungry grunts. Wyatt didn’t blame Linc. His family was awful. “I guess I pictured you guys being the type to have awkward Sunday dinners in some grand mansion.”
Wyatt sighed. “I don’t know if you’d call Nana’s six-million-dollar condo a mansion, but it is right on the ocean. When I was little, we would go to dinners there and my brother and I would run around on the beach while the adults did whatever they did inside. I don’t remember much about it except it usually ended up with my mother drunk and screaming and my father ranting in the car all the way home. After my brother died, we just stopped going.”
“She and Charlie seem close,” Linc observed.
Wyatt snorted, tucking his head against Linc’s chest. “Charlie has met her twice including tonight. She just knows how much my parents hate her, and that makes her an ally in Charlie’s book… the enemy of my enemy and all that.”
Linc’s voice vibrated against his cheek. “Your grandmother seems fond of you, though.”
Wyatt pondered that. “Does she? I feel like she’s polite out of obligation. She doesn’t even know me.”
“She doesn’t seem like a woman who does anything out of obligation, and she seems to know enough.”
Wyatt supposed that was true, but he doubted any shred of affection—should it exist—would survive if she found out her only grandson was same-sex oriented. His mother had given birth to him and even she wasn’t a fan. She ignored that part of him, hoping it would go away. He imagined his grandmother’s reaction wouldn’t be much different.
“After Landon died, I used to dream that somebody would come rescue me. I would make up these elaborate fantasies about how my dad wasn’t my dad and some other man would eventually take me away, or that there was a mix-up at the hospital and I’d find out I went to the wrong family, and I actually belonged to a nice family. That one was definitely wish fulfillment because I look just like good old Eugenia, much to her delight.” Wyatt hated talking about this shit, but he couldn’t seem to shut up now. “Of all the people I thought might come and rescue me from my parents, Nana was never one of them. She was never a big part of my life. I don’t even remember ever getting a hug from her. She would just get down on one knee and shake my hand and tell me a good handshake was important, that it was a sign of strength and trustworthiness. Then she’d usually just glare at my dad. When my dad got into politics, my mom mentioned her less and less. Even when they ran into each other at charity functions and galas, they acted like semi-hostile acquaintances more than family.”
“Have you ever tried talking to her outside of campaign dinners?”
“Tonight was the first time I’ve seen my grandmother in forever, and that’s only because my father’s image consultant clearly has no idea how our family works.”
“Maybe you should try talking to her. It might be nice to have somebody in your corner.”
Wyatt trailed his lips along Linc’s collarbone. “I don’t think you understand how my family works either.”
“It's just a thought.”
