Page 31 of Scorched

Kirkland pressed his lips against the shell of Fabrice’s ear. “We should go to bed.” The whisper had goosebumps skittering along his body. Fabrice was ready to have Kirkland beneath him. Kirkland was right. It was time for bed.

The way Kirkland shook inside nearly made him seasick. While Fabrice had told him through text he would always be at his side, Kirkland hadn’t known what to expect when he came home. He knew there was a possibility Fabrice had thought things over and decided he didn’t want this. After all, he hadn’t married a man bent on running from his problems. Truthfully, Kirkland didn’t know what Fabrice saw in him. That wasn’t a lack of confidence. The confusion was more about him not even knowing who he was. He had been hiding for too long. Kirkland had withdrawn his heart and emotions from the chessboard. What had Fabrice seen in his empty shell that he wanted? Kirkland couldn’t even begin to imagine.

As always, Kirkland waited for a few minutes before moving to join Fabrice in the shower. This time, he found Fabrice soaking in a bubble bath as if he had been waiting for Kirkland. Kirkland didn’t hesitate to slip in behind him and tug Fabrice back against his chest. They were unusually quiet as they washed each other. As Kirkland massaged shampoo into Fabrice’s hair, a wave of kinship hit him. They were friends. It was almost funny how he didn’t think about that often. No matter how brazen and determined to flirt Fabrice had been since they met, they had been friends—like truly. In fact, Kirkland would go as far as to say Fabrice was his best friend. He knew he could talk to Fabrice about literally anything, and Fabrice would not only listen, but he would also bring his side to the conversation with an open heart and honesty. That was one of the reasons he never wanted to be apart again.

“Can I ask you something?”

Fabrice didn’t hesitate. “Of course.”

Kirkland rinsed Fabrice’s hair as gently as possible, showing his affection. “When you… chose me, I guess for lack of a better term, why?”

Fabrice chuckled. The sound was soft and sweet.

“I’m being serious,” Kirkland added. He needed Fabrice to know this was a sincere question. “You must’ve seen something. What did you think I have to offer? You know the real me. I don’t think I’ve ever known me.”

A humming sound came from the back of Fabrice’s throat as Kirkland conditioned his hair. “Gentle peace.” The answer surprised Kirkland. Fabrice didn’t stop there. “When you look at me, you’ve always had a flash of desperation in your eyes. I knew you felt the same for me as I have always felt for you. Even though I teased you about running the household, I saw how you were really only trying to make my life easier. You never stepped in with suggestions or whatnot with any other place in the house. Just me. All those early morning conversations and late dinners filled my life with something I crave a little more every day. This sounds like I’m saying a lot of me, me, me, but I always had the feeling I brought you the same completion you brought to my life. I recognize how trite it sounds, but you complete me. You are my other half, likely my better half.”

Kirkland’s throat swelled. “You’re not wrong about us making one whole. Every time I’ve ever had to leave your company, I feel as if I left a piece of myself behind.” Maybe that was why he hadn’t known himself. He was full of holes without Fabrice.

Fabrice twisted and straddled Kirkland the moment Kirkland finished with his hair. He wrapped his arms around Kirkland’s neck and held his stare. “When I found you gone tonight, it was as if my heart had been ripped from my chest. I couldn’t think. Everything was a haze. All because you were missing from me.”

Kirkland felt like shit all over again. He knew he had handled things poorly. “Again, I’m so sorry.”

Fabrice shook his head. “I didn’t tell you that to make you feel bad. I said that so I can say this: even if I knew one of us only had a day left to live, I would still have married you. If I knew you would only live another month and leave me ripped to pieces without you, I still wouldn’t change a thing. Being your husband is the best part of me. You’re amazing. The way your life has changed has to be like trying to find yourself all over again. I know you’ve pretended for years to be someone else to keep yourself safe. But did it occur to you, maybe you’re not pretending? Has faking a whole personality and whatnot been hard? Or is being the quiet, detail-oriented tyrant of a boss who you are? Maybe you’ve never been young at heart. You said you chafed against childhood. Have you considered that you maybe never had a young soul? I’m sure plenty of people, including me, have pointed out you’re not an old man. You’re still young and can do all the things a man your real age can do. Have you considered the possibility that the reason that leaves you feeling so confused is that: just because you can, doesn’t mean you want to. You’re allowed to be a stodgy human in old man suits with immaculate posture and a haughty tone. I still fell in love with that guy. I’ll always love every aspect of you. Maybe you never lost yourself. You just let peer pressure convince you otherwise.”

Well, shit. Kirkland hadn’t considered that. He had been so determined to age backwards to win Fabrice he hadn’t stopped long enough to realize he had already won Fabrice.

A smile stretched Kirkland’s lips. “Does this mean I get to go back to my comfortable dress pants and ditch the coarse jeans? I’ll keep the shirts. I’m big enough to admit I find those more comfortable.”

Fabrice laughed. His smile was huge. “You’re allowed to wear whatever the fuck you want. I fell in love with your heart, not your pants.” He scooted closer, teasing Kirkland with his seductive look. “However, I also very much like what’s under those pants.”

“God, how did I get so lucky?”

Fabrice didn’t answer. He skimmed his lips across Kirkland’s, tempting him into a deeper kiss. The tub made a sound, and the water drained around them. The lower the water got, the lower Fabrice’s kisses went. When he licked a line down Kirkland’s torso, the back of Kirkland’s head hit the edge of the tub. He took a deep breath and stared at the ceiling as Fabrice’s hot mouth swallowed Kirkland’s dick. There was no way he would last long. He never did when Fabrice sucked him. Fabrice always treated Kirkland as if he was a meal and Fabrice was starved. There was no doubt Fabrice enjoyed the act. Knowing he liked it was too sexy to resist.

A moan vibrated from him as Fabrice’s throat tightened around him. When Fabrice made a sound like a decadent treat hit his tongue, Kirkland couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer. He was too lost in the way Fabrice licked and sucked. As always, he couldn’t control the sounds he made or the way his hips lifted, chasing that mouth. Cold air hit his wet skin, and he swore steam rose. He felt like a furnace ready to blow. Fabrice showed no mercy. He bobbed on Kirkland, giving everything he had. Kirkland strained toward the edge. Heaven was within sight. When the first spasm hit, a sound escaped Kirkland he wasn’t sure he had ever made before. He pulled a muscle in his neck with the force of the way his body jackknifed under Fabrice.

“Mhmm. Delicious.”

“Fuck.” That was all Kirkland had. He wasn’t coherent in any other way. “I love you.”

Fabrice kissed his way back to Kirkland’s mouth. He chuckled against Kirkland’s lips. “That was just a sample. I hope you’re ready for a long night and a three-course dinner.”

He was so in. For the rest of his life, Kirkland was so fucking in.

Tidy sat at the island in the quiet kitchen. It was close to two in the morning. He hadn’t been to bed. Still, he made coffee. Tidy had watched Fabrice set up the fancy latte maker more times than he could count. While he knew he could still go to bed, Tidy already knew he wouldn’t sleep. The high-dollar machine didn’t take long. With the press of a button, the perfect drink filled his cup. He reclaimed the stool he had been occupying for the last two hours.

The door swung open and Shore strolled inside. He focused on Tidy. “Why are you sitting in the dark?”

They had grown up together. Lived side by side for nearly their entire lives. There had never been secrets between them or anything they couldn’t talk about. “The dark suits my mood, I suppose.”

“Coffee smells good.”

“I just made it. Have at it, if you’re interested.”

Shore moved to the cabinet and grabbed a cup. He stood in silence as the mug filled. When he turned, his features were highlighted by the many electronic devices in the room. Tidy couldn’t make out much, but Shore’s image was as familiar as his own.

“Is it okay if I join you, or is this dark spot reserved for the night?”