L Witt - Nine-tenths of the Law

Wasn’t supposed to, but did.

I wanted his touch.

I wanted his trust.

I wanted him .

This wasn’t supposed to happen, but damn if I’m going to try to stop it .

“Oh, God,” he groaned, a violent tremor shifting his body beneath mine. “Oh, God, Zach, don’t…”

“I won’t stop,” I said, thrusting a little harder. “I won’t stop unless you tell me to.” I kissed the back of his shoulder blade, and the resulting shiver was as much mine as his.

“Don’t stop,” he whispered. “Fuck, don’t stop, don’t stop…” He groaned again, sounding almost on the verge of tears. Pushing himself against me, he said, “Please don’t stop…” His fingers tightened around mine, keeping my hand against his chest.

“Jesus, Nathan, I love the way you feel right now,” I said, trying to keep my teeth from chattering and my voice from cracking. “You’re close, I can feel it, and it’s-” My voice caught. “It’s fucking incredible.”

“Oh…my…God…” The sound vibrated against my hand beside his heartbeat. “Oh, God, Zach, I’m-” He gasped. Shuddered. “Fuck, I’m-” Another shudder, more violent this time. “Holy fuck -”

I didn’t think it was possible for me to be more turned on than I was in that instant, but when Nathan’s hot semen hit my wrist and forearm, I could take no more. With a deep groan that seemed to come from somewhere else, I managed a few last, desperate thrusts before my voice fell to little more than a whimper and I came.

We both sank to the bed, collapsing under our own weight. After catching my breath for a moment, I managed to push myself up on my arms and get rid of the condom before dropping back onto the bed beside him, completely spent.

His eyes were closed and his hand was over them, as if shielding them from a bright light.

“Jesus,” he said.

I reached for his other hand. “I think you can probably take that off now.” Before he could even lift his hand, I hit the quick release and the cuff opened.

“Can’t believe I forgot I was wearing that,” he laughed, rubbing his wrist gingerly.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

He turned his wrist, probably checking for welts, then shook his head and put his arm around me. “Nope. Not a mark.”

I just smiled, but said nothing.

After a lengthy silence, he sat up, running a hand through his sweaty hair. “I need a cigarette.”

“You’re not using the safe word now, are you?” I laughed.

“No.” He chuckled, leaning down to kiss me. “No, I never even thought of using it. I just really, really need a fucking cigarette now.”

A few days had passed since the night a set of handcuffs brought us closer together, and we found ourselves sitting in silence in his living room. Nathan sat on the couch and I laid across it, my head on his lap and my feet on the armrest. He combed his fingers through my hair, the slow, repetitive motions nearly lulling me to sleep.

It had been a long day for both of us. He’d been in depositions all day. I’d been up to my eyebrows in both people and equipment that refused to work properly. Ah, the American dream , I thought. Working yourself into the ground so you’re too damned tired to do anything else .

His fingers slowed, gradually losing the rhythm that had almost put me to sleep. It wasn’t a deliberate change of pace. If anything, it seemed as though he’d forgotten his fingers were moving at all.

I watched him, but he didn’t notice. His eyes seemed unfocused, fixed on something in the room but not really looking at it. He seemed to be looking right through it, staring at something that was a million miles away, just like the thoughts in which he was lost.

“Hey,” I said. He looked down, blinking once as if trying to bring himself back to the present. I touched his arm gently. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He held my gaze for a moment, then looked away. “I was just thinking.”

After a moment, I said, “Is that an invitation for me to ask what you were thinking about, or…”

He laughed softly. “That depends. Do you really want to know?”

“Does it include Saturday’s winning lottery numbers?”

Another laugh, this time with a bit more enthusiasm behind it. “Don’t I wish?” Then he paused and looked away, again finding whatever it was he wasn’t looking at earlier. The humor faded from his expression. When he looked down at me again, he ran a single, gentle fingertip down the side of my face. “It does involve you, though.”

My heart jumped into my throat. His affectionate touch reassured me that it wasn’t anything to be alarmed about, but the pair of crevices forming between his eyebrows cancelled out that effect. Swallowing hard, I said, “Go on.”

He chewed his lip for a second. “I’ve been thinking about the other night.”

I didn’t need to ask which night. If it had been on his mind half as much as it had been on mine, he probably still heard the handcuffs rattling just like I did. “What about it?”

Without looking at me, he gave a half shrug. “I’m not really sure, just…” He paused. “Just thinking.”

“Do you regret it?”

His eyes darted downward and met mine. “Regret it? Do-” He shook his head. “Jesus, no.”

I exhaled, trying not to make my relief too apparent. “Neither do I.”

He smiled. “I definitely don’t regret it. I guess it just…”

“Made you think?”

“Obviously.” He laughed halfheartedly, then his face turned more serious again. Trailing his fingertip along my jaw, he said, “I just keep thinking that it should have made me nervous. Or, more nervous than it did, anyway.”

I chewed the inside of my cheek, unsure what to say to that. Fortunately, he went on before I had to think of a response.

“You suggested doing it so I could learn to trust you,” he said quietly. “But I think I already did. I just didn’t know it yet. And that night, everything we did just made me realize it.”

I furrowed my brow. Though this was what I had hoped for, that he would realize there was less distrust between us than he thought, there was a note of hesitation in his voice, as if this revelation unnerved him.

He went on. “As much as we’ve gone around and around about trust, I think I trust you more than I do most people.” He paused. “Maybe more than I should.”

Cold water ran through my veins. “More than you should?”

His fingertips drifted tenderly down the side of my face. “More than I should if this is…” He was quiet and distant for a moment. Then he took a breath. “If this is what it was when we started out.”

My heart pounded. “A rebound thing?”

He nodded. “Especially given how this rebound thing got started.”

I swallowed. “Maybe it started out that way, but maybe it isn’t meant to stay that way.”

“Shouldn’t it, though?” He cleared his throat. “Shouldn’t it stay that way?”

Sitting up, I bit my lip and thought for a moment. “I probably shouldn’t have offered to buy you a beer the night we met, but I can’t change the past, and…” I hesitated. “I don’t think I can change the future, either.”

“What do you mean?”

“Whether we should or not,” I said. “We are. And unless one of us walks out right now, we will.” Leaning closer, I slid my hand around to the back of his neck, not sure if I just wanted to touch him, if I wanted to reassure him, or if I was silently pleading with him to stay.

We looked at each other in silence. Blood pounded in my ears, and my stomach turned with uncertainty. This was a crossroads. A point of no return. Now or never. Stay or go.