AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Alek shook his head, hopped down from the stump, and started off down the path.
“In my family, we did not apologize,” Alek continued when Ian joined him. “I was raised to be above remorse, that every decision I made was calculated. An admission of regret was an admission of guilt. Guilt wasn’t allowed either.”
They rounded the side of the Victorian and the greenhouse appeared before them.
“One afternoon there was a knock at my door. A courier held out a cardboard box. It had no postage. I wasn’t expecting any local deliveries. My father was the only person I knew who would pay someone to chaperone a parcel across ocean and land. He had no way of knowing my address, but he always knew everything.”
Alek stopped in front of the door to the greenhouse and turned to face him.
“Inside the box was a hammered gold olive branch crown from the fifth century. The gold leaves were as thin and delicate as if they’d been plucked from a tree. In handwriting I could never forget, my father wrote ‘Sazhalyavam’.I’m sorry. It took me two days to work up the courage to call him. When I did, I learned he’d died the night before.” Alek shook his head and looked over Ian’s shoulder to the forest surrounding them.
They were standing so close Ian could count each band of jade that made up Alek’s irises.
“I don’t know that I ever thought of my dad as mortal untilthat moment. He was an invincible foe. Too powerful to die, let alone from something as boring as cancer.”
“And the crown… did you keep it?”
“Of course. It’s a priceless artifact from ancient Macedonia. History I could hold in my hands. I’m not that petty.” Alek pushed his hair away from his face and flashed a smile before snatching it back. “It was tangible proof that my father was monsterandman, and if he, of all people, could be both, then maybe I could be both too.”
“You’re not a monster, Alek.”
Alek turned to face the greenhouse and looked through the keyhole window. “I know you’ve been toiling away in there, but I have a sneaking suspicion that the blackberry grows back while we sleep.”
Ian drew nearer until he could look over Alek’s shoulder. He had a point. The blackberry looked no less daunting than the day before despite the small mountain of torn-up vines outside the door.
Ian pressed a single kiss to the pulse on Alek’s neck, leaving his lips there as he said, “All this time I thought the wisteria would tear the house down when it’s the blackberry that will devour us whole.”
“Death by a thousand thorns.” Alek’s voice was a nearly inaudible rasp. “I’ve always wanted a poetic death.”
Careful to hold the bulk of his weight back, Ian leaned closer until he’d pinned Alek against the door. He nuzzled his face into the hair at the nape of Alek’s neck. In the span of a single breath, Ian imagined ripping Alek’s pants down and prepping his ass only long enough to be sure he wouldn’t hurt him before pounding him hard enough that the iron door left a mirror imprint of bruises on his skin, but he wouldn’t do that. Not until Alek was medically cleared, not until he was acting more like himself, and not until Ian was ready. He stepped backand readjusted his dick in his pants before he started thinking with it.
Alek growled in frustration. “You are such a tease.” He tore the blanket out from under Ian’s arm and stalked to a shady spot beneath an alder tree. He snapped the blanket violently, lowered it to the ground, and threw himself down on top of it. “I really thought I had you with the door.”
Ian paused in the middle of taking off his shirt. “What?”
“The door,” Alek was on his back with his hand behind his head. “You have a thing for door sex.”
“I don’t have a thing for door se?—”
“My apartment, the Victorian, your truck?—”
“I don’t think a car door counts.”
“The theater, the building permit office staff restroom… Shall I go on?”
“That last one was your idea.” Ian finished pulling off his shirt and threw it at him.
Alek snatched it from the air and covered the top half of his face with it. “Don’t wake me unless you find a door you actually want to have sex against.”
Ian picked up his machete. He normally used the chainsaw during daytime hours, but Alek really did need his sleep. “Sweet dreams, Alek.”
“Wet dreams, if I’m lucky,” Alek grumbled.
Ian put the machete back down. He still hadn’t come clean to Alek about the real reason behind his hesitancy to move things past kissing and heavy petting. Given the conditions of their proposal, Ian felt more than a little guilty, but Alek’s mental state was so fragile and only getting worse. If Ian confessed that he didn’t want to have sex because he still wasn’t over what Alek had done, Alek would catastrophize.
But Alek was smart. He suspected something. They were locked in a stalemate where neither one of them wanted to talkabout it. Maybe Ian’s avoidance was making things worse. He should rip the bandaid off and see where things went from there. It’s not like he didn’t want to have sex on a physical level. It was his head that was the problem.
Alek had given Ian his honesty. Ian knew how difficult that must have been for him. Ian could at least try to be vulnerable too.
