“None of that matters to me. Why don’t we just take it one day at a time? If things don’t work out…then we get the divorce.”
“What will people say?” Jacob asked.
“Who the fuck cares what other people think? I haven’t felt this good around another person in years, and I don’t want to give it up. I don’t want to give you up.”
Jacob smiled. “I don’t want to give you up either.”
“Then let’s not. I have this funny feeling like you and I could end up being a thing.”
Jacob frowned. “What kind of thing.”
Connolly shook his head. “The best kind. The forever kind.”
It was crazy. The whole thing was crazy, and the odds were stacked against them, and there were a million reasons why Jacob should say no and only one reason for him to say yes. And that reason was simply because he wanted to. He wanted to be Connolly’s forever kind of love.
“Yeah. Yeah, okay. I want to do forever with you.”
18 months later
Jacob bounced on his heels at the counter of the tiny cabin kitchen, trying to burn off some of the nervous energy coursing through him. He watched through the window as Killian pulled their suitcases from the back of Jacob’s silver Jeep SUV. He’d originally planned on talking to him in the car about the news he had, the news currently burning a hole in the pocket of his black joggers. The news that currently made his stomach slosh each time he thought about it.
Outside, the sun was high in a brilliant blue cloudless sky. The temperature was warm enough for shorts and t-shirts and taking a dip in the creek after dinner, much different than the winter months where they tended to spend their time bundled up under the covers or in front of the fireplace. Jacob loved the cabin all year round, but they tended to do more family things in the warmer months.
In the spring, they’d come up on weekends to visit his nephews and go hiking with Robby and Calder and Rebecca, Robby and Jacob’s sister. Jacob saw Rebecca more than the others. She helped run Robby’s various outreach programs and had asked for Jacob to volunteer a few days a week. That was a year ago. Jacob now worked there full-time for a meager salary, but he loved the work. There were so many people in need out there, and it was nice to know he could find ways to help that didn’t involve belonging to any specific church or dogma. He loved helping people.
Killian pushed the door open and dropped the two suitcases and the overnight right inside the door, pretending to be out of breath. “What do you need two suitcases for? We’re only going to be here a week.”
Jacob gave him a knowing smirk. “I like to have options. You seemed really fond of the options I packed last time. The naughty nurse one especially.”
Killian’s returning grin was wolf-like. He stalked closer, pressing himself against Jacob, wrapping his arms around him from behind, curling over him to murmur, “Will that nurse be making another appearance?”
Jacob wrapped his arms around his husband’s neck. “Uh, no. I had to throw it away by the time you were done with it, remember? But play your cards right and there’s a french maid who really wants to fluff your pillows.”
When Killian’s lips found his, he deepened the kiss, knowing full well this was going to end up with one or both of them naked.
“This place always makes you so horny,” Jacob whispered as Killian scraped his teeth along the tendon where his neck and shoulder met.
Killian’s voice was a low growl. “You make me horny. I just know when we’re here, far away from the city and the shared walls of our apartment, you are so much more likely to scream for me.”
Jacob blushed. “I do not scream. I am not a screamer.”
Killian bit his ear. “That wasn’t you riding me the last time we were here, begging for my cock to go deeper, harder? What was it you said?”
Jacob shivered as Killian’s tongue traced the shell of his ear. “I don’t remember.”
Killian fisted Jacob’s hair hard enough to hurt just a little. “Try.”
Jacob had discovered a number of things about his wants and needs since Killian had fucked him slow and sweet all those months ago. Jacob had a praise kink. He liked to be taken care of. He liked just the littlest hint of pain with his pleasure. And, sometimes, just sometimes—“Fuck me, Daddy,”
Jacob admitted breathlessly—he had a Daddy kink.
Killian’s free hand slid up under Jacob’s t-shirt, teasing his nipples with his nails. “That’s right.
My sweet little boy with his delicate sensibilities and refusal to say bad words was begging for it, using curse words that would make a sailor blush. So fucking dirty.”
“You love it,” Jacob reminded, pushing his ass back against Killian’s zipper.
Killian had a few kinks of his own, namely hearing Jacob use curse words he’d never dare utter with his clothes on. One well placed F-bomb was sometimes enough to make Killian come almost on command. It was a heady power, and Jacob wasn’t ashamed to admit he abused it frequently.
