Chess knew he had a hell of a lot of nerve putting André under the microscope about kissing a man while drunk when his own secrets could destroy everything they’d built together.
Those dark days came crashing down on him—running away after his mother’s funeral and living on the streets, trading sex for money until he was picked up by the police and sent to rehab, then transferred to foster care. It had taken him six months to feel safe enough to sleep more than a few hours a night, fearing someone might come into his room and hurt him. His foster parents had given him food and shelter and not much else, and he’d focused all his energy on college and starting over.
He should confess everything to André, but the truth mixed with the lies caught in his throat. He was the one his friends looked to for sensible advice, the one they thought lived a perfect life…and he was a fraud.
And to the most important man in his life, the man whowashis life, how could he justify lying all these years? Could someone who lived a gilded existence understand the depths of self-loathing that would force someone else to do anything to survive? Would André ever understand that love forced him to fabricate so much of his past so as not to lose what they had?
“I’ve told you the important things. I don’t like talking about it only because it was so rough. It’s a part of my life I wish I could forget. In a way, college was the start of a whole new life—you aren’t wrong. I was never one to dwell on the past. I’m all about the future.” No longer hungry, he put the spoon in the ramekin, still half full of chocolate.
“My poor love.” André kissed his cheek. “I can’t imagine how hard it must’ve been. As annoying and overbearing as my mother can be, and as foolish and frustrating as I feel my brother and sister are, I couldn’t imagine not having them in my life.”
“Henry and Bianca love you. They’ve just never been pushed to take responsibility, since you’ve always been there to take the reins.”
“Maybe my settling down will give them an idea to take life seriously for themselves.”
Personally, Chess felt the siblings knew exactly what they were doing. Why work if they didn’t have to exert themselves? André had always been too forgiving and complacent with his brother and sister, allowing them to get away with murder, but it wasn’t his place to say.
“Maybe if you had a conversation with them and explained how you want them to take a more active role in the business, they’d listen to you.”
“My mother’s tried, but they pay her lip service, then do what they want.”
“Last I checked, you aren’t Margery.”
André chuckled. “That’s for sure. But maybe you’re right. Maybe I need to get firmer with them. It’s not fair for them to simply use the business as their personal checking account.”
Chess swiveled in his seat and put his arms around André’s neck. “Speaking of getting firmer…”
The teasing light in André’s eyes grew hot, and Chess rose from his seat. With André’s hand in his, he pulled him out of the kitchen, down the hall, and into their bedroom. He kicked the door closed behind him and tugged André’s T-shirt over his head. When he was bare-chested, Chess made quick work of his shorts and briefs until André stood naked and hard in front of him.
“God, you’re beautiful.” He skimmed his hands over the broad muscles of André’s chest and sank to his knees. He grasped the thick length of André’s cock and licked the head and sensitive underside before taking the full shaft in his mouth. André hummed his pleasure, and Chess massaged the firm globes of his ass, feeling the taut muscles bunch under his hands as André flexed and rolled his hips.
His insides clenched, lust rocketing through him at the first taste of André’s precome landing on his tongue. With a final sweep over the swollen crown, Chess released him, so turned-on he could barely see straight. He hurriedly stripped and waited on the bed.
“Fuck me. Hard. Right now.”
“Chess, love…” André kneeled by him, but he wasn’t having it.
Right then, though, Chess didn’t want the sweet and loving André he knew. He didn’t deserve that. He wanted to be taken hard. Pounded. Used until he was so bent and broken he couldn’t walk.
“No.” He thrust André’s gentle hand from his face. “Now. Do it now. Fuck me.” He spit on his fingers and shoved them inside his passage. “I’m ready for you, come on.” Frustrated, his eyes burning, he turned ruthless and worked himself hard on his hand for a moment, then stopped.
“Chess, Chess.” André straddled him and kissed his lips, his tearstained cheeks and wet, spiky lashes. “What’s wrong? Stop. Let me love you the right way.”
“What if this is all I deserve?” Chess tried to twist away under André, but André held him close.
“You deserve everything. And I’m going to give it to you.”
André’s mouth fused to his, the kiss hot and demanding, his hard cock pressed flush to Chess’s, and they rubbed and humped together. Chess moaned against André’s lips, licking and biting, frantic in his need to feel.
“Sweetheart, slow down.”
“I…can’t,” he gasped. “I need…want…” He lurched up to André and fisted their cocks for a moment before spreading himself wide. “You. Please. Only you.”
André shifted lower, and Chess tensed, waiting for that breach, the moment of completion, but the soft wetness of André’s tongue licked at his quivering hole, and caught by surprise, he cried out and jerked up.
“André, oh God.”
“Shh. I’m going to give you what you want.”
