Page 39 of Fire & Ice

He cleans himself up in the bathroom just to steal a quiet moment to control his shaking hands, to wrestle his excitement under control before slipping back into the playroom bed with an orange-juice-flavored Tripp and pulling him close. It can’t be more than ten in the morning, but Leander is now the kind of exhausted that a person can’t fight, no matter how much they want to enjoy the moment. His eyelids fall closed with the weight of something much heavier pressing down on them.

It’sgoodto know that he doesn’t need to fight. That he’smeantto stay, that Tripp wants him to do so. As he falls asleep, he pulls Tripp just a little bit closer, savors the puff of warm breath on his neck. He delights in every tiny aspect of the moment—from the way Tripp’s ribcage expands into his side, to the contented sigh he exhales following. The hand resting in the middle of Leander’s chest and the way Tripp’s lips graze gently over the hollow of his collarbone bring him close to a state of euphoria.

Drowsy and completely relaxed, Leanderalmostslips and murmurs to Tripp that he loves him, managing to bite the words back at the very last second. It’s not as painful, today, the way they’re swallowed down into his chest, because Leander has every chance in the world to put his feelings into action in a way that he already knows Tripp will accept. In a way that Tripp not onlywantsbutneeds. He revels in the heat of Tripp’s body, the way his torso feels resting half on top of his own—it’sgood.

Leander hangs on, holds him that much tighter.

It’s enough.

Chapter 5

Waking up next to Lee never gets old. It’s only been a little over three weeks since Tripp showed up half-drunk and dropping, wholly unsure of what he was doing, dressed in panties and trying to bait Lee into showing him affection by way of an ass beating. In that time, though, Lee has been damn true to his word. Now, after they scene, he reliably stays the night in the playroom bed with an attitude that Tripp might even be coaxed to call “enthusiastic.” Through every one of those nights, Lee either does the holding or lets Tripp hold him, and he tries his best not to be the first one up and at ‘em in the morning, before Tripp can wake up and register that he hasn’t left.

With each passing day, Tripp can feel something loosening inside his chest. The tendrils of that deep-seated fear he can’t help but cling to, the idea that Lee is resentful and simply placating him, begin to release and disappear. Tripp can hardly believe it himself, but all of those insecurities are slowly but surely whittling themselves away, and doing so without him ever actively working through the issues that put them there in the first place.

The way Lee saw straight through his bullshit that morning was a little scary, though. At least he had the decency to explain about the “meeting of the minds” (i.e. dinner with Autumn) later that night, allowing Tripp to shelve his suspicion that his friend was actually psychic. Of course, if Leewassome form of mindreader, Tripp would have a whole other set of issues to deal with, wouldn’t he?

Regardless, Lee is keeping his promises, and better than that—from where Tripp is sitting, anyway—he seems pretty damn happy about the changes himself. There are even times when Tripp has lowkey thought to question his ownassumptions about Lee and his (in)ability to develop feelings for other people. Honestly, he’d be a fool not to consider it, with all of the signs that seem to be cropping up left and right.

For starters, there’s the way Lee reaches for him totally unprompted in the middle of the night. There’s the way he seemingly jumped at the chance to stay overnight with Tripp in the playroom bed. And there’s how, when he thinks Tripp isn’t looking, Leanderstares,his face morphing into his sappy expression, the one that usually only crops up after sex.

There’s also the fact that—even with their freshly-relaxed boundaries—Lee hasn’t tried to put up any others. He hasn’t distanced himself from Tripp’s friendship, hasn’t suggested that perhaps they should try and keep their relationship to one thing or another, for clarity’s sake. New to this whole thing as he is, Tripp can’t help but think that would be themostlogical path, for someone so concerned about bleeding the perilously thin barriers between friendship and sex.

But Lee doesn’t seem concerned, so Tripp isn’t about to waste time worrying either. They continue to have movie nights (sometimes with Tripp’s collar on, sometimes off), visit the bar with Beau and their co-workers, and generally, live their lives the same way they always have, just with some new and improvedextras.

Still, Tripp wonders. Distantly, and only from the safe space known as the inside of his own head, but he does. It’s nothing he can bring up at this point, even if he wanted to, but surely, if Leewasdeveloping feelings, he’d share them.

Hemustknow that Tripp would never make the first move, not after everything Lee has told him about Autumn and howherunreciprocated feelings drove them apart and then straight into the ground. It’s those thoughts and reservations that have Tripp questioning his own judgment, ponderingwhether the things he sees can just as easily be explained by the care and patience of a good Dom and a great friend.

Probably that, he tells himself. That’s probably all it is.

On the other hand, their sex has never been hotter, and their scenes only seem to be getting better. More intense and fulfilling each time they’re together, if still fairly “safe,” as far as BDSM can be, at least in Tripp’s opinion. Getting there, though. Last night, Lee wove a full harness over Tripp’s chest and thighs with rope before suspending him from the ceiling and fucking him in mid-air. It made Tripp feel like he was flying, or maybe tumbling around in outer space like a sexy, intergalactic porn star.

Fuckin’ hot.

In short, Tripp has no complaints, and maybe he shouldn’t let himself get so hung up on wondering what all is going on in that weird little head of Lee's, lest he push the wrong button and mess up the great things they do have going. Whatever it is Lee’s feeling, it’s translating to Tripp spending a crap ton of time on Cloud-Fucking-Nine, so really, he’d be some kind of walnut to do anything that might put that in jeopardy.

Theonlything he sort of wishes that he could voice to Lee freely and without consequence isn’t anything related to that complicated emotional bullshit, but everything to do with his own desires. Bringing up anything scene-related to Lee feels like a Big Deal, though, in part because he’s made such a production out of not wanting to be involved with either designing them ahead of timeordebriefing them afterwards.

It’s just that the more comfortable he becomes with Lee, the less difficult the concept of discussing things feels, even with concepts he previously would have balked at (heavily). On the other hand, Tripp’s not stupid—he knows that if he’s bringingsomething up, Lee’s going to take it seriously. If he portrays whatever it is as aneed,he’s absolutely getting exactly what he asks for, which in this case is as terrifying as it is enticing.

So for that reason, Tripp has been stewing and chewing on his thoughtsmuchmore carefully than he ever has aboutanythinghe’s sought out in his entire life.

At the end of the day, he’s not afraid to tell Lee about what he wants because he’s worried the guy won’t be into it or won’t give it to him. On the contrary, Tripp is nervous because heknows,instinctively, that Lee has been holding back on some of the more dangerous, morespecifickinks on their lists. Maybe he’s protecting Tripp, taking things slow after what happened at the beginning of their relationship. Or maybe he’s waiting for Tripp to be able to find the balls to ask for what he really wants.

That would be such aLeething to do, Tripp’s definitely not ruling it out.

Plus, there’s no rush. It’s not like what they’re currently doing isn’t meeting his needs—it definitely is. Submitting to Leander, handing over control of his body and his pleasure, it’s a high and a relief like no other Tripp’s ever experienced. The way he feels when he comes out on the other side of an intense scene is nearly indescribable: floating and free, unburdened, cared for,light.

So why can’t Tripp stop circling back to the conversation he and Lee had at the beginning of things? The one that happened way in advance of them ever laying a hand on each other, back before there were contracts and kink lists—just him, Lee, some beers, and a movie that was too dull to keep either of their attention.

That night, Tripp had been fidgeting something fierce, and Leander called him on the carpet for exactly what hewas: touch-starved, horny, unable to get out of his own head. Frustrated and antsy, Tripp had all too easily spilled his guts on how the stresses of his job felt like they just kept building. Unlike when he was younger, these days, things never seem to mellow. There’s no reprieve, no emergency release valve for the pressure he’s under. Too many victims, people he can’t save, not to mention thefriendshe sees going under around him for the same reasons he’s struggling to keep his own head up.

Emboldened by Leander’s understanding gaze, Tripp even admitted to having nightmares. Nightmares in which he’s forced to relive different emergency responses that didn’t go well, calls he wishes he would’ve done something different to handle but didn’t in the heat of the moment. Something that—in retrospect—feels like it could have changed the game and resulted in a better outcome.

When Tripp was younger, all those issues still existed, stillhappenedon the job,regrets and all. The difference is, they rolled easily right off of his back. A few whiskey rocks, a quick roll in the hay with a hot stranger he picked up at a bar, andboom—good as new. With a sigh and a drag of his fingers through his hair, Tripp had complained to Lee that those coping mechanisms hadn’t been cutting it, not for quite some time.

…aaandthat’s when Leander set down his beer and made Tripp an offer.

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