Double Indemnity (28 page)

“She was a hero. You know,” Nathan said, rubbing Sam's arm absently. “I don't think she thought Sheldon would hurt her. That's the worst part. If we'd been on better terms, if she'd only told me—”

Impulsively, Sam took Nathan's hand and brought it to his lips. He kissed Nathan's open palm and nuzzled against it, breathing in the clean scent. Nathan watched him without speaking. When Sam held his hand, he didn't pull away.

“We can't change what happened,” Sam said. “You've done good things too, Nathan. Patricia is alive and so are her kids. Where is she, by the way?” Sam hoped the question would distract Nathan from the guilt trip he was about to take himself on, though Sam knew he'd probably never get over it. Not entirely.

“All set up in a safe house with the kids. She'll be there until the trial, and then they'll get new identities for witness protection. That's where I was, by the way, those weeks I was gone.”

“Oh.” So, not at a sex club screwing anonymous men. Not with Luan either. Sam had a lot more questions about how they'd managed it, but they could wait for later. Drowsiness had started to pull him under, and he wasn't sure he wanted to resist anymore. He hoped Nathan would stay.

“Just think. I might never have found the flash drive if it weren't for you. I was too involved to think clearly.”

“So are you saying you're glad I'm a nosy fuck?”

“Not glad, not since you could have gotten yourself killed. But grateful. Emma can finally rest in peace.”

“And so can you,” Sam said, though he had a feeling it wouldn't be so easy.

Nathan leaned down and kissed him. It wasn't passionate, but it wasn't chaste. It was a kiss full of promise, soft and sweet.

 

N
ATHAN
MADE
it his duty to ensure Sam followed doctor's orders. The next few days passed with more bed rest than Sam had seen since he came down with chicken pox as a teenager. Nathan took care of the food—mostly takeout and a botched attempt at soup—and drove Sam crazy making sure he didn't overexert himself.

“He did my laundry,” Sam complained to Yuri and Rachel on one of their visits. “My fucking laundry. You know, dirty clothes I wore on my body? He washed them.” Neither of his friends seemed to find this problematic. Rachel rolled her eyes.

“Well, someone has to do it, and you can't exactly run down to the basement in your condition.”

“I'm fine. I can walk down a few flights of stairs.”

“Be quiet and let him take care of you.”

“As long as your underwear didn't have skid marks, I don't see what the problem is,” Yuri chimed in. “I wish someone would do my laundry.”

They were both assholes. “I want you out of my room.”

“Aw, baby.” Rachel patted his head. “Get some sleep and be a good boy.”

“I hate you.”

In spite of Sam's protests, Nathan was nothing if not persistent, and Sam eventually felt his resistance crumble. It was only a few days, simply as a precaution. And anyway, some of the things Nathan did were pretty nice.

He didn't express any interest in sex. They slept together in the same bed every night, but it never went further than a cuddle, despite the erections involved. Sam's frustration was reaching epic proportions. He never had a moment alone to jack off, except in the shower—and he'd never been a fan of using conditioner as lube. Plus, who wanted to masturbate when there was a hot man around?

He couldn't decide if Nathan's reticence came from worry over Sam's health or another matter entirely. But enough was enough.

On the fourth day of their arrangement, Sam tested the waters by rubbing his ass back against Nathan's morning wood. Nathan, half asleep, arms wrapped around Sam, groaned encouragingly. So Sam did it again.

His own dick was harder than a rock, and Nathan's felt amazing sliding right against the ridge of Sam's ass. He moved Nathan's hand from where it rested on his chest down to his aching cock, and Nathan gripped him through his boxer briefs, then fished his erection out through the opening. Skin on skin, finally. Sam tilted his head back to find Nathan's mouth, careful of his injured scalp.

The kiss grew hot and heavy fast, and Nathan started a satisfying rhythm, jacking Sam's cock under the covers. Sam didn't want to come like that, but his dick didn't seem to care. His hips surged forward, thrusting into Nathan's hand.

Sam broke off the kiss. “Can you please just fuck me already?”

“Your injuries—”

“Are fine. I'm fine. And even though this is nice, I want you to fuck me.”

Nathan twisted his hand around the tip of Sam's cock and rubbed the sensitive, wet head as if to prove a point. And then he did it again—and again. The intense sensation made Sam's eyes roll back in his head. “Is this nice?” Nathan whispered.

“I don't even—ah—”

It was certainly different from the way he jacked himself, usually quick and to the point, no muss, no fuss. Nathan, Sam realized, got off on controlling his partner's pleasure. The cock poking into Sam's ass from behind certainly betrayed Nathan's eagerness.

This domestic bliss could only last so long, though. Sam was going to get Nathan to fuck him, or die trying. In fact, he almost had.

He chuckled to himself.

“What's so funny?” Nathan said hoarsely.

“You don't want to know.” Using the willpower of a thousand men, Sam rolled away to ferret through his sex drawer. Nathan peered over his shoulder.

“That's… big,” he said when he noticed the longest and thickest of Sam's dildos, bought on a lark in the Village. He'd never even dared use it.

“You wanna try it out?”

“Maybe another day.”

“Your loss.” Sam shut the drawer and threw the packets he'd found on the bed, trying for casual even as his mind screamed
another day. Another day.

“Strawberry?” Nathan asked, picking up one of the condoms.

Sam grinned. “Sometime life needs a little flavor.”

“I'm allergic to strawberries.”

“Seriously?” Sam couldn't tell if he was teasing or not.

“Yeah, though I doubt any actual strawberries were used in the making of this condom.”

“Okay, so no to strawberry.” He tossed that condom on the floor and picked up a regular, along with his bottle of lube. “How do you want to do this?”

Nathan didn't answer as he lay back on the bed, his cock resting lush and hard on his belly. He reached down and squeezed the base, and Sam knew it wouldn't take much for him to lose his resolve. Sam shucked off his own briefs, squeezed a dollop of lube onto his fingers, and got onto all fours.

“Well, if you're not going to fuck me, looks like I'm going to have to fuck myself.”

It had been a while since he'd bottomed—his adventure in New York with the anniversary couple was the last time—and he couldn't recall ever wanting another man inside him so badly. He slipped two fingers inside his hole, hamming it up a little for show. Something made him want to tease Nathan the way Nathan had teased him during their first encounter. From the look on Nathan's face, it was working. Nathan watched him with dark, impatient eyes.

“Jesus, Sam.”

“Feels good,” Sam said, angling for the spot inside that made his cock leak onto the sheets below. He circled his hips and felt his balls start to tighten.

Nathan stroked his erection slowly as his eyes tracked every one of Sam's movements. Sam's mouth watered. Each movement of Nathan's hand unveiled the velvety, wet head of his cock. It wouldn't be so bad to swallow down Nathan's erection and finish him off, but Sam recognized his victory for what it was.

There were his stitches to consider, so he climbed astride Nathan's thighs and took a moment to lean down and lick Nathan's cock, savoring the drop of salty-slick precome beading at the tip.

Nathan's breath hitched, and his legs tensed beneath Sam as he kept his urge to thrust at bay. Sam hoped the bruises from his injuries had started to fade. He hadn't looked in the mirror after the first day. He grabbed the condom. “All right?”

“Fuck, yes.”

Sam smiled and then scooted up for better aim. The first push burned in a satisfying, not-quite-painful way. Sam paused with half of Nathan's cock inside him, waiting for the stretch to abate before he sank down. Impaled on Nathan for the first time, he took a moment to appreciate the beauty of the man on his bed. The hollows under his eyes told tales of sleepless nights, but his cheeks were flushed, and his eyes glowed like coal candles. He gripped Sam's thighs and thrust up to seat himself even deeper, and Sam bit his lip as the last inch entered him, sealing them together.

Nathan seemed to be having a difficult time staying still. Sam could sympathize. Nothing quite like the first moment of being inside someone, holding back the urge to plunge deep, again and again. He rocked his hips, and Nathan squeezed his ass in encouragement.

“You feel good,” Nathan said, starting to move. The anxiety of the past few months dissipated like fog burned off in the morning sun when Sam looked at Nathan's face. Tenderness and sleepy desire softened his patrician features, but intensity simmered there too. Sam wondered how he could coax it out.

With one hand Nathan pulled Sam down for a kiss and with the other he guided his hips as they built a steady, slow rhythm with their tongues and the rest of their bodies. In spite of the coolness of his apartment, Sam started to sweat, but his muscles rejoiced at the exertion after so many days of rest. He broke off the kiss and leaned back, bracing himself with one arm between Nathan's powerful splayed thighs as Nathan started to drive up into him with more force. Nathan groaned underneath him.

“Yeah. Like that.” Nathan pulled him harder onto his cock with each thrust. It felt so good to be filled, that empty part of him. The air crackled with the sounds of their lovemaking, the slap of skin, the mingling noises of pleasure.

Sam wondered if it had ever been like this for Nathan with another man. He imagined having Nathan in his bed on a regular basis. Would he be careful and protective, or would he give into the darker side of his nature Sam had glimpsed only a few times? Both?

Would it become more than sex for Nathan, as it had become more than sex for him?

Sam quickly pushed the thought from his mind. He didn't want to remember and he didn't want to think about the future. He was tired of thinking. Tired of fending for himself, and tired of being strong for his brother. He was tired.

“Hold my wrists, Nathan.” They didn't hurt anymore.

“What—”

“I want you to.”

Nathan grabbed Sam's hands instead, held them firmly in his grip, and laced their fingers together. He started fucking harder, slamming his hips up and shattering the silence of the room with a
quiet moan. Sam couldn't touch himself, and his erection ached in protest, but that only made it hotter. Every feeling intensified—the cock plowing him, the tight grip of Nathan's fingers, the smell and heat of sex. He still wanted more. He wanted to be under Nathan's control, tied up, unable to move. He wanted to feel the thick cock taking him over.

“Fuck me harder,” he panted, leaning back in surrender. Nathan gathered him in his arms and kissed his sweaty neck. Sam moaned when Nathan's teeth grazed his Adam's apple. “Harder,” he whispered.

Nathan surged up, repositioning them so that Sam was on all fours, then slid back home with one long thrust. It was even better from the new angle. Sam shuddered and let his upper body collapse against the bed. Nathan started fucking him slow and deep, punctuating each thrust with a sexy grunt. Sam closed his eyes and started to float, grounded only by the thick anchor of Nathan's cock. Waves of pleasure rolled over him as his body loosened, letting Nathan even farther inside.

“You have no idea how hot you look with my cock inside you.” A finger circled his stretched rim.

“God—”

“Do you like it?”

“Yes. Fuck, yes.”

“You want me to touch you?”

Sam whimpered.

Nathan slid deep and held himself there, squeezing Sam's ass. “You think you deserve to come after how you made me worry?”

“Maybe?”

“That's not an acceptable answer.” Nathan still didn't move. He pulled Sam back more firmly onto his dick and pressed hot kisses along his spine. Sam wanted to beg, but he couldn't.

“I can wait,” Nathan said.

Sam tried to move his hips, but Nathan still held him firmly. “I… need to come.”

“But do you deserve it?”

“N-no. But I could. I'll be so good. I promise,” Sam panted.

“Ask me nicely, then, and maybe I'll let you come. Say please.” Nathan's finger teased Sam's stretched rim again, and the sensation made Sam's toes curl. “I can't hear you.”

Something in Sam, the damaged, hardened part that never asked for things from people, said no. Another part of him, new and more fragile, wanted to give in.