No Such Thing (The Belonging Series) Page 5

  “Oh my fuck,” Jaime said once he found enough breath to speak. His entire body hummed like he’d been plugged into an electric circuit.

  Alessandro dusted off his knees as he stood, shiny lips quirked in a self-satisfied smile. “That was so goddamn hot.”

  He muttered a reply that might have been yes, and his lack of vocal control slammed him back into himself. The tree bark digging into his bare ass reminded him of his half-dressed state. He tucked his dick back into his clothes, a little unsteady now that the ball, metaphorically, was in his court. Should he offer to blow Alessandro? Simply push him against the tree and go for it? Offer a handjob, instead, since he had zero experience sucking cock and didn’t want to embarrass himself by choking?

  Alessandro repossessed of the ball by saying, “We should go back to the car before it’s too dark to find our way.”

  “But…” He glanced down at Alessandro’s crotch. “You?”

  He grinned wickedly. “You ever make out with someone in the backseat of a parked car?”

  A shudder of anticipation rolled through him. “There’s a first time for everything.”

  Chapter Five

  The trek back seemed to take forever. In his wildest dreams, Alessandro hadn’t expected Jaime to be so responsive to a simple blowjob. Alessandro had blown guys who reacted with as much enthusiasm as if they were having their hair styled. Jaime was different. He lived every moment of the experience, watching and feeling and existing in each touch and lick and suck. And Alessandro had been glad to do it. Jaime had a great cock—just the right length and width, with a nice nest of pubes around the root. He wanted to suck it again. He wouldn’t even mind getting fucked by it, depending on Jaime’s preference in that area.

  They hadn’t exactly discussed particulars, and he didn’t imagine they’d be fucking tonight. Soon, though, please soon, he thought as they finally reached the car.

  Jaime seemed nervous when they climbed into the backseat, even though they were very much alone. No homes were within eyesight of the empty cul-de-sac, and headlights would give away anyone approaching before they got close enough to see their activities. Alessandro studied him, curious at the change in body language. Jaime sat stiff-shouldered, hands in his lap, nothing like the man he’d seen fly apart less than five minutes ago.

  “Hey,” Alessandro said softly. “What are you thinking?”

  Jaime stared at him wide-eyed, like he’d been caught doing something illegal, and Alessandro’s heart sank. He’d screwed this up already.

  “Shit, I went too fast, didn’t I?” he asked.

  “What? No!” Jaime twisted around to face him, hands coming up in a placating gesture. Even in the dim light from the half-moon overhead, he looked panicked. “God no, I loved that.”

  “Then what?” An idea struck him. “You don’t have to reciprocate, you know. I mean, I’d get it if you didn’t want to.” Okay, so that was kind of a lie. He wouldn’t get it, exactly, but he wouldn’t complain.

  “No, I do. You have no idea how much.”

  Alessandro was stumped. Jaime hadn’t dated much, but surely he wasn’t…oh shit. Ice settled in his stomach. “Jaime, just so we’re on the same page here, how far exactly have you gone with a guy?”

  Jaime’s face darkened with embarrassment, and he turned to look out the window. He kept staring away when he finally answered, “Exactly as far as we’ve gone. I’ve never…you’re kind of my…first. With everything.”

  An unfamiliar sense of confusion and awe came over him—contradictions that messed up his ability to think clearly. He was Jaime’s first everything? How was it possible for him to reach the age of twenty-two and still be so—hell. Alessandro’s ungracious thoughts skidded to a halt as he remembered Jaime’s long illness. It made perfect sense.

  It also scared him to death.

  He fumbled for something to ease Jaime’s obvious case of nerves. “Sex isn’t rocket science. Mostly it’s doing what feels good.”

  “I know that,” Jaime said with a bitter sharpness in his voice. “I just hate that I don’t know all of this already. I feel like a fucking child.”

  “You are far from a child, and from what I saw back in the woods, once you figure out what you like, you’re going to be a hell of a sexy lover for someone.” Adding for someone to the end of his statement sounded wrong, but he didn’t want Jaime to expect a future together that they hadn’t discussed. Jaime needed to get out and experience other partners before he even thought about settling into a relationship. And as much as the idea of Jaime with someone else got his hackles up, it was what was best for Jaime. Alessandro couldn’t get attached, and he couldn’t be selfish.

  Jaime finally looked at him. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. Look, I like sex and I’ve had my fair share. There’s some technique to really good sex, sure, but like I said, mostly it’s what feels good.”

  His audience sat silently, waiting for a little bit more.

  “What I’m saying is that I’m volunteering to help you figure it out. What you like, what you don’t like. No expectations, no promises.” He paused. “Well, maybe one promise.”

  “Which is?”

  “If I ever do something you don’t like, you tell me. There’s no points for being brave if something hurts.” He didn’t mind a good, hard fuck once in a while, but it didn’t work for everyone.

  Jaime studied him for a long time, his shadowed face impossible to read. “What was your first time like?” he finally said.

  “Kissing, sucking or fucking?”

  “Fucking. Being fucked.”

  He leaned forward until he had clear sight of Jaime’s face so Jaime saw the intensity of his expression. “It was with an older guy, and I didn’t tell him it was my first time. He went too fast and it hurt like hell, but I was trying to be brave and take it.”

  Understanding dawned on Jaime’s face. “Point taken.”

  “You’re having sex, not writing world peace treaties. If it doesn’t feel good for both partners, there’s no point. Not everyone sees it that way, but that’s me.”

  Jaime went quiet again, turning the offer over in his head in that intent, contemplative way he had. “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  “Yeah, okay. To all of it, including the one promise.”

  Alessandro’s heart pounded with an odd combination of anticipation and dread. In his wildest dreams, he hadn’t imagined tonight would end like this, with him agreeing to teach Jaime about good sex, no strings attached. But he hadn’t realized the extent of Jaime’s inexperience. Alessandro believed in falling in love, and he believed in monogamous relationships, even though he had no experience with either. He also believed someone could fall in love with more than one person over the course of a lifetime.

  He did not believe in being someone’s “one and only.”

  He had to turn his heart off with this one. He’d known since the day he’d met Jaime that he could get attached him. Maybe too attached. Now that couldn’t happen.

  “So, what next?” Jaime asked.

  “Whatever you want.” His erection had died a slow death over the course of their conversation, but it wouldn’t take much to get him up again.

  Jaime eyeballed their location. “I’d take you up on a lot of offers tonight if I didn’t have to work at the bakery tomorrow.”

  “You’re the Saturday help?”

  “Yeah. It’s my way of contributing. Shannon won’t let me do more than one day.”

  “Huh.” That was good to know.

  “Can you come over tomorrow night?”

  “To your house?”

  “Yes. I’ll make sure Shannon is gone for the whole night.”

  An entire night in bed with Jaime, showing him the finer points of gay sex? Hell, yes, he was there. “Okay, what time?”

  “Eight?”

  “Eight it is.”

  * * *

  “How was your night?” Eunice asked later when Alessandro tried to sneak past her. Sh
e was in the living room, curled up in her favorite armchair, reading from a dog-eared paperback.

  He aborted his escape and turned to face her. The fact that he could still faintly taste Jaime, still feel the shape of his cock against his tongue, was both intoxicating and embarrassing. “Good. We drove around and talked. Visited some old haunts.”

  “Anything bothering you?”

  “Not really, why?”

  She stared at him over the edges of her glasses. “You look uneasy, is all. Did you and Jaime have a fight?”

  “No, we’re getting along better than ever. In fact, we’re seeing each other again tomorrow night.” All night, he wanted to add and didn’t.

  “You like him, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing, Alè. What’s going on?”

  He needed to stop being morose about his decision to have yet another fuck buddy. Settling down in Perch Creek had made him reconsider trying out an actual relationship of his own. Not a vows-and-rings-type relationship where his heart could be broken at any moment—just something more than a fuck buddy. But that was all Jaime could ever be. He had life experience out the ass, and Jaime was just starting to live his life. Jaime wanted to be a professor. Alessandro was likely to spend the next three years waiting tables at Baker’s Dozen. Jaime was better than him. He’d figure that out sooner or later, and then it would be over. Fuck buddy now was better than heartbroken lover later.

  “Nothing, really,” he said. “I guess I’m just tired. See you in the morning, okay?”

  “Sure, honey. Tony’s threatening us with chocolate-chip waffles at nine.”

  “Sounds good. Night.”

  As he fell asleep, he made a mental note to hit the pharmacy sometime tomorrow for supplies. He was clean, and he imagined Jaime was squeaky as a surgeon’s table, but if they were doing this, they were doing it right from the start. And that meant getting used to condoms every single time.

  * * *

  The thing Jaime loved most about his relationship with his sister was that she didn’t pester him for an explanation Saturday morning when he asked her to get lost that night. She handed him a twenty-dollar bill, told him to buy plenty of condoms, and then chuckled her way through mixing another batch of chocolate-chocolate-chip muffin batter.

  He spent their morning prep time replaying the car conversation with Alessandro, second-guessing his decision to take him up on the offer of sex coaching. He wanted to have sex with Alessandro more than almost anything. He was sick of being inexperienced, of hearing other people talk about how amazing sex was and not knowing for himself. And if other kinds of sex were as mind-blowing as last night’s blowjob, “amazing” wouldn’t cover it.

  He was mostly second-guessing the hesitation in Alessandro’s eyes and in his voice. Maybe he wasn’t all that thrilled about coaching a virgin through the mechanics, suffering through fumblings and failures. Maybe he’d offered so Jaime wouldn’t feel bad about not knowing how to reciprocate a simple blowjob.

  He’d entertained the same considerations last night, but after sleeping on his decision, the doubts had resurfaced. Alessandro was handsome, made him laugh and he genuinely seemed to care about people—three things that seriously turned him on. He didn’t want to screw this up and lose Alessandro, but the offer to basically be his fuck buddy, rather than date him, was a pretty clear indication of how Alessandro felt.

  No strings attached. Just sex.

  It was depressing.

  But if sex was all Jaime could have of him, he was selfish enough to take it. He’d worry about the future when the future happened.

  Once Baker’s Dozen opened for business, he concentrated on the Saturday morning crowd instead of his own circular thoughts. He flowed between customers at tables and helping Shannon at the counter in a constant, therapeutic blur of motion. After so many years stuck in bed and so many hours spent bent over books studying, this weekly shift was a fantastic release. It had been his favorite physical activity—until he got his dick sucked for the first time.

  He shut those thoughts down fast and went to greet a table of regulars—two guys and their girlfriends, all familiar faces he vaguely recalled going to school with. “Coffee as usual this morning?” he asked.

  Three heads nodded.

  “None for me,” a brunette named Claire said. “OJ?”

  “Coming up. Specials are on the board.”

  He returned with three mugs, the coffee carafe and a tall glass of orange juice.

  Justin, the stereotypical small-town former quarterback with a career-ending-injury chip on his shoulder, was on the end of the booth closest to Jaime. He gave Jaime a look like he’d just done something very stupid. “So my guy Terry here says he saw you driving around town last night with that Alessandro Silva guy.”

  Terry was the sleepy-looking pal opposite Justin, and he glanced up at Jaime like he wanted to apologize and couldn’t. Jaime worked to keep his expression neutral, but the way Justin said “that Alessandro Silva” annoyed him.

  Jaime kept pouring coffee. “And?”

  “Why?”

  “Why was Terry watching me drive around town last night?”

  Claire and the other girl giggled. A glare from Justin silenced them fast. “No, why were you hanging out with Silva? Kid was in so much trouble in school, he’s lucky he graduated. Was even in juvie once. I’m surprised he isn’t in jail now.”

  The back of Jaime’s neck prickled. “Some people actually leave high school behind and grown up,” he said hotly.

  Justin scowled. “You know he’s a fag, right?”

  “I hate to break it to you, Justin, but queer isn’t contagious. You guys ready to order?”

  He scribbled their food onto his pad, then took the slip into the kitchen for Rusty. He paused a moment to breathe, proud of the way he’d handled that encounter. Justin was a perpetual adolescent, angry at the world because a wrecked knee cost him a football scholarship to Oregon State. He and Claire had been together for years, and when he didn’t get into OS, she gave up her spot there and stayed home, too. Jaime saw them around town and the poor girl never looked happy.

  Another table’s order came up while he was standing there stewing. He jumped back into work and ignored Justin’s table until he had to take them their food.

  “Seriously, dude,” Justin said as Jaime put down his plate of sausage and home fries. “Silva’s trouble. Police dragged him out of class because he had a knife on him.”

  “Ten years ago,” Claire whispered as he gave Justin a furious look.

  Something funny settled in Jaime’s chest. He wanted to ask questions about the incident, to know more about Alessandro’s supposed stint in juvie, but he wouldn’t give Justin the satisfaction. “Why do you care who I hang out with?” he asked. “We aren’t friends. Or do you have something personal with Alessandro?”

  Justin’s face puckered up like he’d licked sour candy. When Justin didn’t respond, Jaime rolled his eyes and walked away. He went back a while later to top off their coffee and no one spoke to him. They left a lousy tip, and he pushed the encounter into the back of his mind and went about the rest of his day.

  The bakery phone rang at half past eleven, and Jaime snagged the handset on his way to pick up another order. “Baker’s Dozen, this is Jaime.”

  “Hi, Jaime, it’s Claire. Um, Claire Duncan, from earlier.”

  “Hey, did you leave something behind in the booth?”

  “No, it’s not that. It’s Justin.”

  He eyed the plates of waffles waiting under the warming lamp. “It’s not my day to care about Justin. Call back on Monday.”

  She made a noise that might have been a snicker. “Just listen, please. I don’t know what happened between him and Alessandro back in high school, but Justin is still holding a big grudge, and he doesn’t like that Alessandro is back in town.”

  “Justin doesn’t get to decide who my friends are.”

  Cl
aire sighed. “I know that, okay? Just be careful. Don’t give Justin a reason to hate you, too. He’s got an awful temper.”

  Something in her voice made him pay attention and raised a flutter of concern for Claire. “Thanks for the heads-up.”

  “I gotta go.”

  The line went dead. He left the handset on the counter while he delivered his plates. His curiosity burned, leaving him desperate to know what Justin had against Alessandro that still irked him so many years later. Did Alessandro know this grudge still existed? Jaime didn’t want to worry him, or to be the one to bring up potentially painful memories, but he deserved to know.

  Didn’t he?

  Jaime didn’t know much about Alessandro’s past, and he didn’t really care. People changed. He knew the most important thing—Alessandro had the kind of generous heart that willingly turned his entire life upside down to help a woman, not even his blood, get back on her feet after a loss.

  Unless Alessandro needed to get out of the city, and Mr. Deforio’s death was just a convenient excuse. No. No, he couldn’t go down that line of thought. He wouldn’t start doubting Alessandro now, not when he’d given Jaime no reason to. Justin had planted those seeds of doubt, and Jaime wasn’t going to keep watering them. He’d talk to Alessandro tonight and set things straight.

  So to speak.

  Chapter Six

  Showing up on Jaime’s doorstep with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder felt a bit like wearing a flashing sign around his neck saying “I’m staying the night!” Alessandro was staying the night, though, so bringing a change of clothes seemed prudent—a word that would forever make him think of Jaime. Stuffing the box of condoms and bottle of lube he’d picked up at the drugstore into the duffel was also a lot less obvious than carrying them around in a Walgreens’s bag. Eunice had given him an absent wave from her reading chair as he left, but she knew he was going out for the night. She had to know exactly why.