For the last few days, his Aunt Carol and Aunt Nancy had been texting him, asking him to call them.
Wyatt gritted his teeth, putting his phone on silent. He would not allow his night with John to be interrupted by them, especially after he had repeatedly told them to stop texting and calling. He had nothing else to say or do when it came to his father. His father hadn’t spoken to him since he left eight years ago. Wyatt had called on his birthday and during the holidays, and the man never answered the phone or returned his calls. So eventually he stopped trying. His father didn’t want anything to do with his gay son and made his disapproval loud and clear with his continued silence.
He climbed off the bike and took a long, deep breath, clearing his lungs and his mind of his father and his persistent aunts.
His phone vibrated again, and Wyatt let out a stream of curses, debating whether or not to block his aunts for the evening. But it wasn’t them, it was Jin.
Sent you the tickets via email. You'd better be there, cowboy! You have 2 tickets because I have every intention of meeting this mystery man you’ve been sneaking around with. Bring him, or don’t. Either way, you’re coming???
He smirked and texted his reply.
Thanks, I’ll be there. Wouldn’t miss it.
Good! Bringing him?!
Maybe.
Wyatt was pretty sure he would be breaking one of John’s rules by asking him to come to his friend's art show. Granted, they were breaking a rule tonight, too.
I’ll see you tomorrow night. Btw—it’s a dressy affair.
He hesitated. He had only one suit. And the one and only time he had worn it was for a funeral…
His chest tightened with grief and he pushed the phone back in his pocket, refusing to go there. Not tonight. It had already been a hard day. He didn’t want to think about his past or his family. All of that could wait.
Shoving his emotions down, he walked up the front porch steps to John’s house and pushed the doorbell button. He swallowed, raking his fingers through his hair and shifting back and forth. Before the low-level anxiety had time to work its way up to panic, the large, heavy wooden door opened.
John’s hair was damp and tousled from a shower, and he wore casual gray sweatpants and a form-fitting black T-shirt. His beard was cleaned up around the edges, and he was barefoot. Wyatt decided right then and there that he was madly in love with John’s beard and how it framed his face, seemingly blending from his jawline into his hair, with a sprinkle of gray.
John looked so fucking good it hurt to look at him.
After possibly the hardest shift of his career, all Wyatt wanted to do was go to him.
It was silly and terrifying. He needed John more than this man needed him, and he wasn’t sure if tonight was a good idea because of it.
The last couple of weeks of hot and heavy sex had rattled his comfortable little life. The anticipation of waiting all week to taste him, along with the tease of being close to him at work but never getting to touch him, tormented him. And when their one night of the week finally came, Wyatt was a wreck of pure need and they went at it like starving, desperate men.
And fuck, it was good. So damned good that Wyatt wasn’t sure if he could handle only once a week anymore. He needed more. More time, more nights, more everything.
Before John could even say a nervous greeting, his telling hand scrubbed the back of his neck, eyebrows raised with that adorable fucking half-hearted smile of his. Wyatt, nerves forgotten, stepped forward and kissed him urgently, putting everything he wanted to say into his kiss, instead.
John swayed against him, wrapping his arms around him, and they made out on his doorstep for the best minute of Wyatt’s night. His mouth opened for him, giving Wyatt what he needed, and he took, gripping his sexy fucking bearded jaw, digging his fingers through the thick hair and sucking his tongue into hismouth. John let out a delicious groaning sigh before he dragged them inside and closed the door firmly behind him.
Wyatt proceeded to push John against the door and ravish him some more, and the older man hummed. He gripped his helmet, wanting to use both hands and escape into this moment. But he knew that he couldn’t. He was in John’s home, and he was a respectful country boy, and he could resist the urge to devour this man in his own home, at least until after dinner.
He finally broke the kiss and straightened, reigning in his cockstand.
“Well, hello to you, too.” John smiled at him, flushed.
“Sorry,” he breathed, inhaling and exhaling steadily. “I needed…”
I needed you.
Just you.
The thought startled him, and Wyatt stepped back. John seemed to understand and reached for him, cupping his cheek, “That’s what this evening is for. Whateveryouneed.”
John kissed him this time. It was slow and tender, something they rarely, if ever, did. John was the first to pull back, something flickering in his gaze, but he concealed it just as quickly. “You okay?”
