He wasn’t wearing his cardigan at the moment and Royce let himself become distracted by the drops of sweat rolling down Grant’s chest and his stomach. Royce’s brows pulled together as he noticed that Grant’s stomach was almost flat and the pinch of fat at the sides of his waist were nearly gone. I hope that’s not for my benefit. I thought he was perfect the first night. He felt perfect locked against Royce as they kissed and writhed against his car. Royce’s hand slid across his own stomach and he was startled by the soft give, instead of the usual tightness. He raised his head and there was a slight roll below his navel and less overall definition.
“Huh.” Royce shrugged as he laid back and crossed his ankles. It had been over a week since his last run or trip to the gym but he didn’t feel the usual guilt or regret. He enjoyed working out but his drive to be the perfect agent and weapon was the source of his discipline, not vanity. His mind went back to how well Grant enjoyed his body and Royce’s mood shifted to concern with a whiff of frustration.
Royce was caught off guard by the longing and the swell of emotions he experienced as he recovered from Grant’s sensual assault against his sanity. He thought he knew what he was getting himself into and that he could handle it, when Royce gave Grant permission to take what he wanted and leave. Royce was very, very wrong. He didn’t think about the consequences for himself, he was so preoccupied with helping Grant get over his inner turmoil.
Never, in all his vast sexual history, had Royce ever asked a man to stay and hold him. He never minded a little flirting and teasing after sex but Royce generally preferred to have the bed to himself. He definitely preferred waking up alone and going about his morning in peace. At least, he did until he kissed Grant Weatherly. Royce liked kissing, especially if it resulted in sex and getting what he wanted from his partner. But he didn’t want to stop kissing Grant that first night and it had nothing to do with sex or recruiting him and spying on the Lees. Royce wanted to kiss Grant as he fell asleep and follow him into his dreams. Royce wanted to open his eyes in the morning and find Grant in his arms. And it just got worse, every time they held hands or kissed. Royce found it harder and harder to let go and he found that he got happier, the closer he got to Grant.
He broke, after hours of tossing and turning. His body tingled and hummed with sated bliss but Royce was restless. His conscience and his pride screamed for him to tell Grant that he was done pretending and that he needed him. Royce threw back the covers and hurried downstairs but Grant’s bed was empty. He found Grant in his office. Once again, Royce heard Marcy’s muffled voice and a loud burst of laughter as Grant curled around his knees on the sofa and cried in his robe. Royce listened as the same twenty or so seconds of video played over and over again but he couldn’t make out what Grant was watching or who was laughing. Was this a ritual of comfort and healing or was Grant punishing himself? Did he need comforting or healing because he hurt himself with Royce? Was he punishing himself for enjoying something they’d done? Royce didn’t know why Grant was in his crying robe or what kind of ritual it was so he had no way of guessing how destructive an emotional bombshell would be. So, he left Grant alone and went back to bed.
I have been rather transparent, Royce argued with himself. Royce said little things here and there, and he was very clear about his attraction to Grant. He understood that Grant had reason to be dubious but Royce did his best to be as honest as he could without scaring him. It was doing wonders for Grant’s confidence but it was driving Royce insane. Why, in God’s name, are you pouting? Royce scolded himself. He was in paradise and Grant was the man of his dreams. He thought about what Walter Newberry told him the day they met. Royce might not be a prince but he was the next best thing to a Kennedy and he couldn’t see any reason why he couldn’t stay and make Grant happy for the rest of their lives.
Chapter 25
“I think I’ve had enough. I’m getting out and taking a shower,” Grant announced then rolled off his lounge and into the water. Royce held up his beer and wished Grant luck as he waded to the steps then got out and wrapped a towel around his waist. Royce didn’t appear motivated to move any time soon himself. Which was perfect, actually. The kiss was really nice and instead of sinking into the heavy ache in his chest, Grant spent the afternoon enjoying a soft tickle of arousal as he imagined all the things he could do with Royce. He wouldn’t do any of them because he still hadn’t dealt with the mess he made the night before but it was thrilling and a little empowering for Grant, knowing he could have a man like Royce and make him sob and shake, if he wanted to.
He remembered the way Royce’s legs shook as he came and Grant looked back at the pool to make sure he hadn’t moved. Royce was still stretched out on the other lounge chair with a straw hat pulled low over his face and a beer resting on his chest. Grant quietly shut the patio doors behind him and glanced at his bedside table then at the bathroom. A little “Me Time” might be nice… Truthfully, it was kind of a miracle and it made Grant a bit hopeful. Maybe he wouldn’t dip and his brain would let him have this. Maybe he wouldn’t spend the next few days feeling like a meat sack filled with bricks. And it had been a while since he’d enjoyed a little “Me Time”. Grant was going through a personal dry spell and hadn’t felt any interest for several weeks, before Royce arrived in Hopkins Creek. It was a pleasant surprise to feel his libido stirring when he was supposed to be sinking so Grant pushed out a resolute breath and gave himself a firm nod before dashing to his bed. He pulled the drawer open and all the feeling left his body. Condoms. He blinked rapidly at the condoms next to his bright pink dildo and his eyes widened at the large bottle of anal lube. Grant’s eyes went to the mirror and he expected to see smoke or blood leaking from his ears or his nose.
“Royce!” He shrieked as his fists curled and he shut his eyes tight as they burned and watered. There was a loud splash in the backyard and Royce crashed through the patio doors a few moments later.
“What happened?” He said as he huffed and dripped and Grant pointed at the open drawer.
“This!” Grant hissed. “What are those doing in there?” He demanded and Royce’s neck stretched as he looked. Grant’s eyes dropped to the pink dildo and he gasped as he slammed the drawer shut. Royce cringed as he pulled off his sunglasses and pushed his hat back.
“You’re just finding those? I thought you saw them and took it really well…” He murmured. Grant’s head pushed forward but that was as far as he got.
“You thought…” He croaked weakly. He could see the pink dildo glowing as it floated between them and Grant had to sit, he was feeling dizzy and a little sick. He dropped onto the bed and his arms were limp as they hung between his legs.
“They’re just for appearances,” Royce reassured Grant as he crossed the room and squatted in from him. Grant’s mouth opened and closed as he struggled to wrap his brain around it.
“Just for appearances?” He parroted. Royce’s brows rose suggestively.
“In case we have any nosey visitors,” he reminded Grant as his head swung toward the Lees’ house.
“Why is my life like this?” Grant asked. Royce appreciated that it was more of an existential, rhetorical question and his lips pulled tight sympathetically. “Why couldn’t you leave them in the bathroom?” He asked distantly.