Page 50 of Only the Small Bones
Ryan scooped up a bigger helping this time, sending two fingers to the back of his throat before pulling them away clean. His eyelids fluttered, his expression starved.
“Fuck, Ryan,” I groaned.
He flushed, drying the digits off on his shirt. Doing so disturbed the flaps, exposing the hard bulge at the front of his pants. He followed my gaze to it, then tugged the long hem back into place.
“Touch it,” I said, my tongue thick, mouth dry. Between the scotch, the destructive rage, the mind-blowing orgasm, and hurricane of emotions that’d wreaked havoc on me, it was a wonder I could keep my eyes open at all. For this, I would. For him, I’d do anything. “It can’t hurt you. Your cock isn’t your enemy, Ryan.”
He took several steps back, his breathing ragged when a quick glance down showed he hadn’t outrun his erection. It had followed him. It always would. He had to deal with this.
“It’s okay,” I crooned, slowly sitting up, swinging my legs over the table. I wanted to go to him, to calm him with my touch, but that would’ve only made things worse. I rapped my knuckles on the table in a slow rhythm, counting with each tap until he relaxed.
I didn’t ask him to touch himself again. Pressuring him wasn’t my goal, and I no longer wanted to live in a fantasy world where I alone could fix him. “It’s okay.”
Ryan chewed on his lip, but then he pressed a hand into his hip before drifting it over to his cock at a snail’s pace. He kept his eyes on me. They widened in time with his mouth parting. I curled my fingers over the edge of the table.
His loose, shaky grasp on himself tightened as he snaked his hand up and down his shaft. Within seconds he climaxed, cheeks warming and body bowing on a soundless gasp. Ryan threw his free hand out to grab one of the dining room chairs, using it for support as his orgasm ripped through him.
He dropped his chin to his chest, features tightening like he was in pain. I didn’t know how much longer I could sit by and watch him hurting from experiencing something that should’ve felt good.
Please, don’t let him be angry when this is over. Please, don’t let him be ashamed.I waited on pins and needles for him to regain his control, hoping this wouldn’t cause a setback.
Ryan straightened, his hair clinging to his sweaty face. He blinked his watery eyes and a tear fell, stabbing me straight in the heart, but then his mouth trembled into a smile.
“You did it,” I breathed, breaking into an emotional smile too.
His smile faded, and so did mine. Where did we go from here? And would we go there together?
“What is this?” I whispered. “This thing between us.” More pointedly I asked, “Who am I to you?” I knew who he was to me, although I couldn’t say it. How I felt about him, and why, would scare him off.
I feared I was nothing more than a starting point for him. A place he’d found safety and comfort in before transitioning to something, or somewhere else. He wouldn’t be wrong for feeling that way. That should’ve always been the purpose. I’m the one who’d blurred lines. Who’d crossed them altogether. But now that I had, I didn’t want to lose him.
Ryan strode from the dining room. I let him go, remembering how much he enjoyed time alone after dealing with something new. I’d deal with my unrealistic expectations on my own, some other time.
I needed to get cleaned up and get some sleep. I was so tired, though, and the ache in my chest made it hard to move. I slumped onto the table, rolling to my back, the firm surface sparking a twinge in my shoulder.Just a few minutes.I’ll close my eyes for just a few minutes.
The muted notes of Ryan’s violin captured me before sleep had set in all the way. He played near the window, the city serving as his muse.
I’d never heard the piece he played before. Must have been something he’d been practicing in private. It didn’t occur to me to think about why he’d chosen to play it now, or here with me as his audience. By morning, it dawned on me that it was his way of saying thank you. I’d realized it was a breathtaking, haunting goodbye.
William
Later that morning, I lay in bed trying to figure out how I’d made it to my room. I gave up once my headache started pounding. The last thing I recalled was falling asleep on the dining room table to the sounds of Ryan playing the violin.Ryan.
I rolled toward my nightstand for my phone, checking the time. A little past noon.
Tossing the covers off, I discovered myself naked and crusted with cum underneath. I took a quick shower and dressed before heading for my closed bedroom door. A note waited there for me.
I want to go to Safe Haven.
Ryan wasn’t in his bedroom, so I hurried toward the living room, my steps faltering on its threshold. He waited by the window, staring into the rain with his wool coat on.
“Hey,” I said in a soft voice, suddenly feeling sick. I held up the sheet of paper. “I got your note.”
His expression wasn’t neutral, but it wasn’t emotive either. I couldn’t decipher his thoughts, but I got the impression he wasn’t holding back on purpose. He seemed resigned. He’d made up his mind, and the only thing left to do now was leave.
“I was actually going to talk to you about this today. I think it’s the right decision.” After the night we had, both at the gala and when we returned home, I knew it was time to broach the topic again. I thought it would’ve taken some convincing,though. Thought I’d get a few more days with him before we set off. Now I’d have to get used to spending most of my day without him.
“I could drop you off in the mornings.” I walked into the room. “And pick you up in the…” my words stalled after rounding the couch and seeing the packed duffle bag near his feet. “...evenings.” Realization hit me. He didn’t have plans to come back home.Has this ever been his home?
