Page 79 of State of Mind

He squeezed his thighs as tight as he could, and then he moved with his lover. “Tell me what you want,” he said.

Luca let out something like a sob, wrapping his arm tight around Wilder’s chest. “I want to fuck your thighs hard. Please…please let me…”

“Yes. I want it. I need to feel you,” Wilder said.

Luca held on with a vice-grip, and then his hips slammed against Wilder. He could hear it—he could hear the sound of their skin slapping—a faint, muffled thwack that got his spent cock half-hard all over again and sent zings of a totally different, sated pleasure rippling through him. He let his head fall back and closed his eyes as Luca mouthed at him and nipped at him and bit down as his skin heated and cock swelled. And then he came.

The white-hot spurts unleashed against his bare skin, and though it wasn’t inside him—it was almost better. It was practically perfect. Luca’s breathing hitched, and his tiny gasps right against the back of Wilder’s ear almost sounded like tears, but the cheek that rubbed against his was dry.

His heart was still hammering, almost like he’d run a marathon—and in a way, he had. He had been running his entire life, and Savannah, and Whipped, and Jayden, and Luca—they were all his finish line.

He was home.

This was all he had ever needed.

“Love you,” Luca murmured against his ear, and then Wilder smiled.

Because there was also that.

EPILOGUE

Wilder supposed the storm should have been the indicator that the day wasn’t going to go well. It was unexpected, entirely unpredicted, and knocked out power on the entire block, which ruined a massive batch of cupcakes for a bulk order that was due for pick-up at nine the next morning. The front of the shop flooded from the sudden downpour, and Wilder managed to save only half the paper stock he had stored beneath the front counter.

His phone was buzzing non-stop, probably from both Jayden and Luca checking up on him since they were both out of town helping Tim and Adam pick up supplies for Adam’s food truck.

“Fuck,” he whispered softly to himself, feeling the harsh rush of air against the back of his throat. He’d hit a hearing decline over the last three months, and his audiogram had showed that it was going faster than expected.

He lost most of the running water, along with the birds. And speaking voices, even with his hearing aids at full volume, mostly just sounded like a dull murmur. But he could still hear the timber of Luca’s voice as he rumbled up against the back of his ear when they were in bed together, and he could feel his voice through rough vibrations against his skin, and he didn’t need anything else besides his long fingers signing and the soft lips drawing deep moans from his core.

The bakery door flung open, and Wilder almost jumped out of his skin when Fitz came tumbling in from the downpour. His t-shirt was plastered to his skin, and his hair had half-fallen from his bun, and water beaded at the ends of his eyelashes as he approached the counter.

‘Bad outside,’ he signed, one hand stiff, the other flowing easily.

Wilder sighed and nodded, his gaze flickering to the window. ‘I have an entire order fucked.’

Fitz shook his head. ‘You-need-close. Sorry. Repair-take-a lot-long.’

Wilder wanted to hit something or scream or maybe even cry a little, because he was doing well, but not well enough he could afford to let down clients like this. ‘How long?’

Fitz’s face dropped. ‘Tonight-maybe. Tomorrow-maybe.’

Wilder groaned and dropped his head, taking a few breaths until Fitz’s tentative hand gripped his shoulder. He didn’t look up right away, instead letting his frustration simmer until he felt like the world was steady again, then he righted himself. ‘Sorry.’

Fitz shook his head, opened his mouth, then frowned and closed it. Wilder knew that signing was harder for him than most people thanks to his less than responsive fingers—and he knew in an ideal world people would just happily learn for him. But the world wasn’t ideal. Savannah was home—and home was never perfect.

‘Go UPSTAIRS, I-leave SANDBAGS on-DOOR.’ He spelled more than he signed, but it got his point across, and Wilder knew there wasn’t anything left to do but abandon the ruined half-baked batter and then hunker down and wait it out.

Lightning flashed outside, and he felt the rumble of thunder under his hands, shooting all the way up to his sternum. He looked back at Fitz with wide eyes. ‘Dangerous for you?’

Fitz waved him off with a laugh. ‘I’m fine. Go.’

Wilder backed up, then moved to the kitchen to turn out all the switches and unplug the ovens. He dumped the trays in the bin, then stomped up the stairs, relishing the feeling of the hard wood under his feet in a cathartic expression of his emotions.

The apartment was dark, and the skies were rich with blackened clouds marring the skyline. The rain was still coming down in sheets like a damn hurricane, and the air was still and humid. He cracked open the window that was farthest from his furniture, and he breathed in the rush of breeze before he went in search of candles.

When he had a few lit, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and saw Luca’s name on the screen, and he felt suddenly choked up and tired and desperate to feel his arms around him. He was meant to be home soon, but he wasn’t so sure now.

Luca: The road is washed out pretty bad. How are you doing?

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