Finding Your Heart II A Gay Romance Happily Ever After By Lex Valentine This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Finding Your Heart II, A Gay Romance Happily Ever After by Lex Valentine Copyright December 2011 Lex Valentine, Smashwords Edition Cover art by Winterheart Design, http://winterheart.com, Copyright December 2011 All rights reserved worldwide. This book may be distributed freely in its entirety courtesy of the author, Lex Valentine. This work may not be sold, manipulated, or reproduced in any format without the express written permission of the author. This work contains graphic language and explicit sexual content between two consenting male adults. Intended for adult readers only. Not intended for readers under the age of 18. For more information on the author’s other works, please visit http://lexvalentine.com or visit her Smashwords page at http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/lexvalentine. Praise for Finding Your Heart II “Once again, Lex Valentine expertly mines the emotional lives of her characters while providing a hot, hot tale of longtime lovers who finally get it right. A perfect New Year's Eve short story, grab a glass of champagne and enjoy!” Bestselling gay romance author, Z.A. Maxfield. “The heart is a fragile creation; a combination of human frailty and emotional sensitivity. Lex Valentine’s Finding Your Heart is more than the exploration of the human heart or two men in love, it is a journey of loss, longing, regret and the redemption found in the mending of a heart in need. Finding Your Heart is a wonderful story of two separated lovers who rediscover their physical passions and the emotional home they inhabit within each other’s lives. Finding Your Heart is a poignant and sexy way to ring in the hopeful New Year.” Xavier Axelson, erotica author and advice columnist. Praise for Lex Valentine “I love this author because she writes with such feeling and intensity and her characters come alive on the page. Her dialogue moves me.” Reviews by Jessewave “I am impressed by Lex Valentine’s ability to create a vibrant world filled with realistic characters, giving them very real human emotions.” ParaNormal Romance Reviews “Lex Valentine is an author that deserves more recognition than she gets…She is definitely someone that you should pick up and read.” Night Owl Reviews “Lex Valentine is a wonderful storyteller…” Love Romances and More “Lex Valentine is an amazing author who incorporates just the right amount of sex in her love stories…” Bitten By Books “Lex Valentine is a great author. Whether it be her fantasy or her contemporary stories she always brings the reader into her world and keeps them entertained throughout the whole book.” Got Romance Reviews “I love how Lex Valentine brings so much emotion and connection to her stories. I love feeling very invested in the characters. I really am looking forward to reading more from this author in the future.” Two Lips Reviews “Lex Valentine has quickly become one of the few authors that I eagerly await for their next book to come out. No matter what she is writing I have yet to be disappointed.” Whipped Cream Reviews After the worst Christmas Casey has had in years, the urge to go home overwhelms. Standing in front of the house he grew up in on a bleak New Year’s Eve, he acknowledges that what he once thought of as home is gone. Filled with despair, he sees that his life is a barren wasteland and he has no energy or hope left with which to change it. When a man exits the rundown house, his long legged stride carries ghosts of the past right into Casey’s present. Never had he imagined that he’d run into the man he’d lost a lifetime before or that the man would own the house that had always been a symbol of home to Casey. But Paul is there and he’s never forgotten the love they shared so briefly. Casey’s New Year’s quest to find reasons for his existence becomes a homecoming he never expected when Paul opens his heart. It’s only then that Casey discovers the answers to life are as simple as finding your heart. Dedication To my fans. I couldn’t do this without you. Casey stood on the deserted street and stared at the house. It had changed in eighteen years. Not that he had expected it to look as it had when he’d lived there. He knew full well that nothing ever remained the same. The first time he’d ever been in the house, he’d been two. His parents were thinking of buying the new structure even though it lay at the end of the tract with no other houses to its left. His oldest brother had held him up to the ceiling and he’d laughed and put his hands on it, leaving behind one slightly grubby palm print. The print had stayed on the ceiling for many years. The cold wind whipped past him, blowing his overlong, ink dark hair into his face. He tucked the strands behind his ear and tried to ignore the rough white ones he could feel threaded through the silky ones. Tucking his leather gloved hands into his armpits, he hugged himself, keeping his jacket wrapped tightly around his torso. The street lay in semi-darkness, the streetlights not yet on and twilight in full swing. Further down the street, a few houses blinked with Christmas lights. The one in front of him remained dark, the yard a mass of mud from the recent rains and an owner who seemed to be in the process of re-landscaping the sloping expanse of what had once been the lawn. The house itself didn’t welcome. It was run down, with chipped paint, at least one cracked window pane and a sagging garage door. However, a dumpster sat in the driveway so perhaps the new owner intended to renovate the place. Casey didn’t really care if the house was being cared for or not. The people who had lived there had been who he cared for and they were all long gone. His brother Tim. His sister Jean. His parents. Everyone was gone. Not just gone from the house and gone from his life, but gone from the wretched world that still held him in its unfeeling grasp. He stared harder at the rundown house and the sensation that he stared at himself grew stronger by the second. The house was him. Once proud and beautiful. Now, worn down and broken. Once filled with laughter and love. Now, housing only bitter memories. A shudder shook him and unwelcome tears welled. He blinked them back almost angrily. What good did it do to cry or rail at fate for what had become of him? He couldn’t turn back the clock and change his path. He couldn’t go back and find the heart he’d lost along the way. All he could do was continue to put one foot in front of the other and endure until his time to leave this world arrived. At times, like this dark, forlorn night, he wished it would come sooner rather than later because he was tired, so very tired of living. He’d driven many miles that day just to stand on the street he’d grown up on and stare at the house he’d called home until the day he’d been forced from it by death and debt. He’d been happy there and he still thought of the town as home, despite the fact that he hadn’t lived there in eighteen years and hadn’t stepped foot inside the city limits in ten years. He realized as he gazed upon the changed house and yard that all these years he’d not really yearned for home as in the town or the house, but the people. His mother and father, sister and brother were what felt like home even though they were gone now. Home was also his best friend Kate and…Paul. Oh, God. Paul. Casey’s eyes closed on a wave of pain. Nearly twenty years had passed and still his loss affected Casey. Not in the same way it had when he’d first left his hometown. And not in the same way it had when he’d returned ten years ago and Paul had asked him to come home. No, this pain had a dull, ragged edge of resignation to it. You couldn’t go home again. Casey had no idea who had coined that phrase, but its clear intent was true. He certainly couldn’t go home. It held nothing he needed and everything he didn’t want. He’d lost his heart here and over the years that loss had become the one thing that sucked the life from him bit by bit until now at forty, nothing but a dark, empty place resided within him. He didn’t even know why he stood there on the street he’d lived on for more than twenty years, in front of the house he’d grown up in, on a cold, windy New Year’s Eve when most people were someplace warm with friends and family. All Casey knew was that his fight with Allie on the phone had drained what little hope he had left for some kind of peaceful holiday. Of course, Allie wouldn’t want to be with her father on New Year’s any more than she’d wanted to be with him on Christmas. She’d rather be with her friends and boyfriend than with her father. And of course, she put up a fight about it. Allie was contentious about most things that had to do with Casey. She called her father selfish and whiny, then proceeded to lecture Casey about getting a life of his own so he could butt out of Allie’s. Her parting shot was that she didn’t need her father any longer. A long sigh escaped Casey and he sank in on himself like a deflating balloon. He hadn’t whined, had he? He didn’t think he had, but these days, his perceptions of himself were so skewed he hardly knew the truth of the matter. And it all boiled down to the same thing in the end. Casey alone on a street four hundred plus miles from the place he resided, which wasn’t any more of a home than any other place he’d lived since he left the house he’d grown up in. The house he now stared at wistfully in the growing darkness. A lone tear escaped and he angrily scrubbed it from his cheek. No crying! he scolded himself. Real men didn’t fucking cry over shit they couldn’t change! He took a step back, deciding he had best get back in his car and head to the hotel. He had a long drive ahead of him on New Year’s Day after he visited the graves of his family. Hopefully, New Year’s travelers would be in the minority and he could have the road mostly to himself. As he turned toward his silver Honda, a faint light came on in the house. Startled, he looked back and saw a bouncing light inside the structure, the light growing larger as it reached the front door. The battered wood creaked open and a man came out. He locked the door and turned to face the street. In his hand was a huge flashlight, the source of the light inside the house. With the flashlight casting a big, bright circle of light, Casey couldn’t make out anything more than the outline of the man behind it. Tall and lean, his dark shadow came down the front steps with an arrogant, cock-first stride that made Casey’s breath catch in his throat. The man skirted the mud pit of a yard and headed down the driveway toward the street. The swinging beam of the big flashlight spanned the narrow street and illuminated Casey for a moment. He sucked in a startled breath, blinded. Blinking away the spots before his eyes, he saw that the man had stopped walking and now stood staring at him. One hand reached up and absently tugged at his left earlobe. Then he dropped his hand, squared his shoulders and crossed the street, coming directly toward Casey. Shuddering, Casey took a step back on the sidewalk. He knew that walk. He knew the man. He thought perhaps he should pinch himself because he had to be dreaming. The man coming toward him had been every fantasy he’d ever had. He’d never imagined himself with sports figures, movie stars or other celebrities as other people did. He’d only ever fantasized about this man. The man came to a halt on the asphalt, no more than three feet from where Casey stood on the sidewalk. He turned the flashlight off and shook his dark head slowly, almost wonderingly. “Casey McLean.” His voice sounded the same, deep and sexy, and it had the same effect on Casey that it had twenty years before. His cock stirred behind the zipper of his jeans. The man took a step closer and Casey could see a glint in his dark eyes. Casey wanted to say his name aloud but his lips didn’t work. Neither did his tongue or his brain. He tried again. Paul. Nothing came out, but in his head, he’d screamed the name. Paul Duncan wanted to shout for joy. The only person he’d ever wanted to spend a holiday with stood before him like a fantasy plucked from the most private portion of his mind. It had been years since he’d bothered with any of the trappings of Christmas. When he had the chance to be with his daughter for the holiday, he just took her to his parents’ house and let them do the whole spoil the granddaughter on Christmas thing. He bought presents. He even wrapped them himself, but he did it out of a sense of obligation really. It was something he was expected to do, not something he really wanted to do. He’d never been much on buying presents because he had to. He much preferred gifts to be spontaneous and from the heart. As for New Year’s Eve and day, they had just been another day ever since he’d given up partying and drinking. He never did anything special. Never went out with friends or a date. Friends asked too many questions if he showed up without a date. And a date would be a total disaster because they tended to have expectations if he asked them out for a holiday as special as New Year’s Eve. Expectations of another date. Expectations of sex or more. Having sex was okay, but afterward he’d want to leave and return to his own bed – he’d never taken a date to his home – and most people tended to become offended by a man who fucked and fled. With men, they became offended in a harshly verbal manner that usually disparaged his sexual performance. With women, they sometimes became violent. He rubbed a faint scar on his biceps where flying glass from a shattered lamp had nicked him years before. Yeah, New Year’s Eve dates weren’t a good idea for him. Yet, here he stood on New Year’s Eve in front of the house he’d bought for no other reason than that he had some vague notion of wanting to feel connected to the man who had once lived there. Since his life was filled with disconnects, the expense of the house seemed like a monumental aberration in his life path. And it was, but the manual labor of renovating it made him feel good and made him feel closer to someone he’d lost so long ago that he’d become nothing but a fantasy. Until now. He stared at Casey, seeing the white streaks in his once night dark hair and the faint lines at the corners of his eyes, mouth and between his brows. He didn’t look happy. He looked beaten and lost with his arms wrapped around himself, his honey brown eyes bleak and weary. Paul’s stomach clenched and his heart thumped painfully. This wasn’t the man he remembered. That man had spilled over with warmth and delight. The one before him seemed shrunken and curled in on himself, cool and distant. Anger began to rise within Paul. Who the fuck had done this to him? Who had sucked the joy out of him and left behind nothing but a shell? Not for a moment did Paul believe Casey had become this dark creature on his own, by his own choice or design. Paul had once known Casey’s heart and that heart would never have gone dark unless someone had deliberately extinguished the light inside him. Without thinking, Paul reached for his earlobe, for the tiny gold hoop that no longer pierced the flesh . The hoop now lay buried in a small precious wooden chest with the other mementoes he had of Casey. He glanced at Casey’s ears and didn’t even see a hole there. He wondered what had become of Casey’s gold hoop. He realized then that Casey’s throat worked as if he wanted to speak but couldn’t. His eyes held a nameless sentiment, a strong emotion that set his lean body to trembling visibly. Paul’s body responded with a surge of desire and an ache that burned behind his breastbone. “Casey?” Paul spoke his name softly, his silence making Paul wonder if he’d just imagined him there. Casey drew a shuddering breath and his name emerged on a faint sigh. “Paul.” The sound of his voice sent a frisson down Paul’s spine, like a ghost finger caressing his skin. The way Casey used to caress him. “You’re here,” he said, feeling stupid with shock that Casey actually stood before him. He stared up at Paul, shaking, his eyes wide. “I – I…oh, fuck. Yes, I’m here and you’re here and…” His hoarse whisper broke off and tears sheened his dark eyes, a pair of them trickling down his lean cheeks. “Fuck me! I promised myself I wouldn’t fucking cry!” Casey’s angry rasp made Paul smile and it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to set the big flashlight down and close the two steps between them to take him in his arms. Casey shook violently and Paul pressed him tightly against his body, burying his face in the long mint scented hair. A huge sigh escaped him and for the first time in many years, Paul felt alive. He’d never acknowledged that part of his soul had gone missing when Casey had left his life, but he knew with unequivocal truth that it had because now he felt whole. Paul brushed his lips against Casey’s temple. “You came home.” Another violent shudder wracked Casey’s lean frame. “No. I came here looking for home, but it’s not here. Home is not a place,” he told Paul as his hands tentatively grasped Paul’s waist, holding him. “Home is people. All the people who made this place feel like home are gone now.” Casey’s pain reached out to Paul and he took it inside himself, holding it and Casey with reverent hands. “Except me.” A half-sob, half-growl vibrated against Paul’s chest. “Except you. But I didn’t know you were here,” Casey admitted. He rubbed his face on Paul’s shirt, burrowing into him. “I thought you were lost.” Paul smiled against Casey’s hair. “I’m not lost, but I’ve felt like it over the last eighteen years. Part of me was missing.” Casey’s gloved fingers brushed Paul’s earlobe as if looking for the tiny gold hoop he used to always wear. “Lost to me. We can’t get back what we had. It’s gone.” The agony in Casey’s voice made Paul’s heart ache. “No, it’s not gone. And we don’t have to get back something that we never lost in the first place. It’s always been there inside us.” Paul pressed a kiss to Casey’s temple, the sensation of having him in his arms feeling as natural as if the last time he’d held Casey had been only hours before. “Casey, I promised you that I would always love you, that we would always love each other no matter what happened in the future. I never stopped loving you. Can you honestly tell me that you stopped loving me?” Casey pushed away, not free of the circle of Paul’s arms, but far enough that he could stare up at him. “I thought I had. I was so cold, so numb, so unhappy,” he admitted. “I lost hope. I didn’t believe. It’s been so long. So very long.” The anguish on Casey’s face made Paul want to cry too. “You were always here.” He touched his chest between his pecs. “In my heart.” Casey swallowed hard, eyes sheened with emotion, his expression bewildered. “How could I not know that?” Obviously, whoever had sucked the joy from Casey had taken his belief from him as well. He should have known that when Paul promised to always love him, that he would. He’d never broken a promise to Casey. They’d shared an odd metaphysical connection that seemed huge, inexplicable and scary and at the same time comforting and intimate. They finished each other’s sentences, sensed each other’s presence and thoughts and even knew when the phone rang if it was the other. The last time they’d seen one another, ten years before, their connection had been off kilter and when Paul had asked Casey to come home, he’d refused. When he left, Paul realized he’d used the wrong words. He should have asked Casey to come back to him. And he should have made Casey remember their promises to one another. Gradually, over the intervening ten years, Paul’s sense of the connection had weakened to a bare thread that held only his fantasies and memories. He hadn’t realized that the connection had become damaged because Casey no longer believed in it. Their connection faded when Casey stopped believing in the promises Paul had made. Paul cradled Casey’s face in his palms and inside him joy began to flow like warm honey. Wiping the damp tear tracks from Casey’s cheeks with his thumbs, Paul let his presence strip away all the years that had passed. “I need you. Will you come with me?” he asked, his voice gentle and coaxing. Casey stared at him wide-eyed, a mixture of fear, disbelief and wonder making his eyes shine in the dim light of the street. “I don’t understand, Paul. Why…? How can you…? After all this time…?” His words stumbled over one another and he abruptly closed his mouth, shaking his head as the bleakness returned to his face. Paul smiled. Casey needed to be handled gently. He understood that without really thinking about how he knew it. He had always known just how to handle the volatile Casey except for that time ten years ago when he’d let him get away. “How can I not, Casey? Especially after all this time?” he whispered. “Don’t you see that us apart didn’t work? You’re not happy. I’m not happy. Don’t you think we owe it to ourselves to just forget about everything except the fact that we still love each other?” Casey stared at him as if he’d grown a second head and a twinge of doubt pricked him for a moment, but he pushed it aside. He wasn’t wrong. He’d been wrong before. He’d been wrong for eighteen years, but this time, he wasn’t wrong and he wasn’t afraid to put Casey on the spot despite how carefully he needed to handle this new fragile version of his former lover. “Are you going to tell me you don’t still love me the way I still love you?” For a long, dark moment Casey didn’t move and his expression didn’t change. Paul willed Casey to find what he knew lay in the depths of his heart. Finally, a shuddering sigh escaped him and his words came out stronger than any since Paul had first seen him standing on the sidewalk across from the house. “No. I’m not going to say I don’t still love you. Because that would be a lie.” They ended up at Paul’s hotel which was Casey’s hotel too, the town not having too many good places to stay overnight. They sat in the living room portion of his suite, nursing glasses of merlot. Paul told him he didn’t live in town any longer, but came down from the city to work on the house whenever he could. He’d taken off the week between Christmas and New Year’s which is why he had a suite. Had he only been there for a day or two he’d have just had an ordinary room like Casey’s. Paul told him about his daughter, who did live in town with her mother, a woman he’d never married. She had a step-father she adored and Paul tried to be a good father, but he’d never been allowed much of a place in her life. Casey told him about Allie, whom Paul remembered as a blonde haired termagant of nine who’d wanted to know why he was kissing her father. “I know you’re a good parent, Casey. Maybe her selfishness is just how she has to be to assert her independence,” Paul said, obviously trying to soothe Casey’s hurt feelings at Allie’s holiday brush off. Casey appreciated Paul’s willingness to whitewash Allie’s behavior to make him feel better, but he knew Allie. The kid had a mean streak probably inherited from her mother even though she’d never known the woman. “You don’t have to try to make me feel better about the situation with Allie,” he told Paul. His former lover smiled, the charm he’d always loved shining through. “I know, but I like making you feel better. You looked so…broken when I first saw you tonight.” Casey’s gaze raked over the touches of gray at Paul’s temples and the deeper laugh lines on his chiseled face. Other than those things, he looked the same as Casey remembered right down to his lean hips, broad shoulders and the long fingered hands he’d always admired. He even treated Casey exactly as he always had. Paul hadn’t really changed, but Casey had. He looked at Paul, not letting his gaze fall away from Paul’s curious eyes. “I was…I am. I’m…empty,” he admitted reluctantly. He didn’t want Paul to know the depths of the darkness and pain inside him. Paul shook his shaggy brown head. “I don’t believe it.” A rusty bark of laughter escaped him. “Yes, you do. It’s why you’re working so hard to overcome it.” Casey set his untouched glass of wine on the coffee table. He looked up, his gaze catching Paul’s, and he felt all the old emotion rise within him. Eighteen years ago he had been unable to handle the outside pressures of being in a relationship with a barely legal young man. Their home town didn’t know how to handle openly gay couples and unable to cope, Casey had walked away knowing full well he’d left his heart behind. Tonight, he’d come back to the place where he’d once been happy only to discover that it wasn’t the place but the people that had made it home. And he’d realized that he wouldn’t ever be free of the dark swirling despair within him unless he found his heart. Its keeper now sat across from him, watching Casey with worried brown eyes. In that moment, it didn’t matter what had driven him away all those years ago. It didn’t matter why he hadn’t taken Paul up on his offer ten years ago. All that truly mattered was that he’d been wrong. It had never been about coming home. It had always been about finding his heart. And he’d been stupid to stop believing that it was exactly where he’d left it, in Paul’s care. Paul put his wine glass down too. Leaning forward in his chair, elbows on jean clad knees, he challenged Casey quietly. “Why are we doing this? Why are we talking in circles?” “Because there’s eighteen years to account for.” Even as he spoke the words, Casey knew they weren’t true, but he did know the real reason they were talking in circles. He was afraid of what came next. “No, there isn’t,” Paul disagreed. “Although, there is some explaining to do. I want to know what happened to you, who sucked the joy from you, mistreated you and didn’t treasure what he had.” Casey smiled, the movement of his lips feeling stiff, as if he barely remembered how to smile. “It wasn’t a single person, Paul. There’s no one for you to beat into a pulp for mistreating me. Life has done this to me. Every bad thing that happened to me, every struggle, every relationship that didn’t work out, every time there wasn’t enough money, every disappointment, every crisis…they all contributed to the man you see before you. They all chipped away at my spirit and wore me down.” Paul stared hard at him for long moments. Then he said, “I guess that answer never occurred to me.” “You know the timing hasn’t been right for us all these years. Even the last time we saw each other, it didn’t matter how much I yearned to be with you. I was seeing someone and so were you. And I totally misunderstood what you asked me.” Casey pushed to his feet and walked over to the window, staring out at the night sky. “And now? I guess I just want to know why you bought my house, the one I grew up in. You don’t even live here anymore.” Paul’s mobile lips curved up in a sexy smile. “That’s an easy question. I bought it for you. I wanted you to come home. It’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted. And I needed to feel connected to you again. I’ve missed you.” Casey’s heart began to thud painfully as Paul rose from his chair and came toward him. He stopped with only inches between their chests. “I’m here and you’re here. Neither of us is seeing anyone. Our children don’t even come into this equation,” he said quietly, lifting a hand to stroke Casey’s hair. “Do you remember how we used to finish each other’s sentences? Even as young as I was at the time, I knew that was not only significant but rare.” Touching Casey’s earlobe, Paul whispered into it. “Where’s your hoop?” A surge of emotion closed Casey’s throat again, but he managed to choke out, ”In my wallet.” Paul’s head dipped and as his hand slid into Casey’s hair to cup the back of his head, he murmured, “Mine’s at my house in a chest where it can’t be damaged or lost. I treasure it as a symbol of our unending love. I knew the first time we finished each other’s sentences that you were made for me and I for you. I knew no one would ever love me as you do.” He pressed a kiss to the dimple in Casey’s cheek. “Do you know what the most exciting and fulfilling sex of my life has been? The night I took you when I was still dressed, my leather jacket pressing into the naked skin of your back. I’ve never come so hard or so long since.” Casey flushed hotly thinking about that night. The sex had been rough and spectacular. He’d never forgotten it because it had been the best sex of his life. Hearing that it had been the best sex of Paul’s life too helped ease his fears. “That was almost twenty years ago. How sad that best sex of our lives was so long ago.” Paul brushed his lips against Casey’s and Casey felt an electric thrill go through him. “Oh, I don’t believe it’s the best sex of our lives. I think it was the best to date, but I also think we can top it. As cliché as it sounds, I know the best is yet to come.” His lips smiled against Casey’s and he teased the flesh with his tongue. Casey moaned. Paul deepened the kiss, his arms coming around Casey’s body and his long fingers slipping beneath the hem of his t-shirt to touch Casey’s bare skin. Casey leaned into Paul’s strength, admitting to himself that he needed Paul, needed to belong to him. What he didn’t want to admit was that he’d always needed Paul and that he’d wasted nearly two decades by not admitting it sooner. He pulled back, breaking the kiss. Paul’s hands on his bare back attempted to tug him closer. Casey resisted for a moment. “I think we need –“ “- a bed,” Paul murmured, finishing Casey’s thought. Casey smiled. It hadn’t taken long for them to fall back into their old familiar habit of completing each other’s sentences. He remembered how it had freaked out their friends. It had made everyone think they were fated to be together, two halves of a whole. A few people, like Casey’s best friend Kate, still believed they belonged together. “Casey?” He blinked, pushing back the memories. “Kate still thinks we belong together,” he blurted out. An amused smile quirked Paul’s lips. “Kate’s always been a very smart girl.” He pulled Casey against him for a swift, rough kiss. Then he bent and put his shoulder to Casey’s hard stomach, lifting him in a fireman’s carry. He carried Casey toward the bedroom, moving easily despite their combined weight. Hanging upside down, staring at Paul’s stellar ass, Casey protested, “You’re going to put your back out or something. You’re not twenty anymore.” Paul laughed. “I’m in much better shape now than I was then. Back then my manly figure was a product of good genes and youth. Now, it’s the product of good genes and damned hard work. I don’t live on burgers and fries anymore. I take care of my body.” “I noticed.” Casey’s admiring stare was cut short when Paul flipped him onto the mattress. He bounced a little but then found himself caged by the body they discussed. On hands and knees above Casey, Paul began a campaign of short, fierce kisses between caresses designed to remove clothes. By the time Casey lay on the sheets in nothing but his boxer briefs, his cock throbbed painfully with arousal. “You have too many clothes on,” Casey gasped as Paul stroked his palms up Casey’s hair roughened thighs, grasped his briefs and pulled them off. “I kinda like me dressed and you naked. It’s a lot like playing master and slave.” His brown eyes twinkled, their expression devilish. “For that we’d need a collar and a safe word.” Casey’s low reply caused Paul to still and his brows rose questioningly. With a sigh Casey nodded. “Yeah, sure,” he admitted, answering Paul’s unspoken question. “I’ve done a lot of kinky things. Doesn’t mean I was into it. I mean, I’m a lousy sub. Too much of a control freak to be able to handle it well.” “You’d make an awesome Dom,” Paul told him with a grin. Casey shook his head. “The lifestyle isn’t for me. I prefer equality in my bed.” Paul’s grin widened and the sheer wickedness of his expression made Casey smile. “I do you and you do me?” Paul asked. “Something like that.” Casey turned his head and licked Paul’s bicep. Pure lust rocked his body. He couldn’t believe how awful he’d felt only an hour before and now he thrummed with energy. The pain-ridden man he’d been had fallen away in the face of emotions he hadn’t given free rein to in nearly two decades. “It occurs to me that I’m really at no advantage by being dressed while you’re naked,” Paul told him. “My dick is so hard it hurts.” Casey chuckled. “I imagine it would be confined in those tight jeans. Are you commando?” “What do you think?” Paul waggled his brows suggestively. Casey slipped his hands into the waistband of Paul’s jeans. “I think you’re about to show me.” He popped the top button and dragged Paul’s zipper down. His hands parted the denim, pushing it down muscular thighs. Paul’s thick erection sprang free, the uncut flesh as long and thick as Casey remembered it. He sighed. “You’re still the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. And you’re wearing way too many clothes.” In a flurry of movement, Paul stripped off his t-shirt and rose from the bed to shuck out of his jeans and footwear. Moments later, his naked body held Casey’s trapped beneath him. Casey wrapped his hand around Paul’s swollen shaft, stroking the velvety flesh. “I want to suck you,” he murmured, remembering how much he’d loved the feel and taste of Paul’s flesh in his mouth. “No way. I’d lose it far too quickly and I’m not about to come in your mouth after all the years I’ve dreamed of coming inside you again.” Paul reached for his jeans and pulled out his wallet, extracting a condom. Casey watched in disappointment as Paul sheathed himself in latex. He loved the feel of Paul’s naked flesh. Stroking a rubber just wasn’t the same. But until they got tested together, it was best to be safe. Casey could still remember what it felt like to go bare with Paul. He’d never done that with another man. Fumbling a little as he searched the nightstand with one hand, Paul came up with a small bottle of lube. He slathered it over his covered cock and then pushed Casey’s thighs apart. Feeling exposed in a good way, Casey grabbed the backs of his knees, pulling them toward his chest. Paul hissed in a breath as he stared at Casey’s tight pucker. His fingers, covered in lube, stroked the opening. He pressed one long digit knuckle deep inside Casey. The slight burn didn’t even faze Casey as pleasure streaked through him. His gaze held Paul’s. The finger fucked him, thrusting in and out as his ass relaxed. Then the burn returned as a second finger joined the first. They thrust and Paul hooked them slightly, grazing Casey’s prostate. By the time a third finger joined the fray, Casey was consumed with lust, his slick ass eagerly sucking at Paul’s hand. Pulling his fingers free of Casey’s hot hole, Paul settled between Casey’s thighs. One brow rose questioningly. “How much foreplay do we need?” he asked gruffly. Casey rolled his eyes but really couldn’t hide his naked need. He was pretty sure Paul could see it in his eyes and on his face. “What’s foreplay? Just fuck me.” Paul shook his head. “I need to make love to you.” “Fuck first. Then make love,” he ordered, aching with the need to have Paul inside him. Instantly, he began to inch his cock into Casey’s tight ass. Casey gasped loudly at the invasion, his heart thundering. Paul watched him carefully, as if assessing whether Casey could withstand his onslaught or wanted to cry uncle. Casey wrapped his legs around Paul’s hips, heels in the small of his back. Clenching his ass around Paul’s cock, Casey took the lobe of his ear into his mouth and sucked on it. Paul hissed in a breath and began to stroke his cock into Casey’s ass. At first, his thrusts were slow, gentle and seductive in deference to how long it had been since Casey had done this. Then his movements gained speed, becoming powerful and breath stealing. They rocked together and with every pass of Paul’s cock head over Casey’s prostate, Casey saw a shower of blue stars behind his eyelids. As their pace picked up, Paul shifted his focus. His cock owned Casey’s body as did his hands and tongue and lips. Casey writhed beneath his caresses and kisses. Paul fucked him into a world he’d forgotten existed, his body worshipping Casey’s. Paul made love to him as no one else ever had. Their odd metaphysical connection shimmered between them and Casey could almost taste Paul’s emotion. Their gazes caught and held. Casey’s hands stopped roaming Paul’s shoulders, arms and back. He raised them over his head, resting them on the pillows. Paul slid first one palm against Casey’s, then another. Their fingers dovetailed. Love threatened to spill over inside Casey. Tears welled. Paul’s hips slowed, undulated, his body bowed to Casey’s. “Oh, God. Deeper. Like that,” Casey whispered when Paul snapped his hips, pressing his cock just that much deeper within him. Casey’s whimpers urged Paul to a faster pace and he battered Casey’s prostate. Every thrust sent rapture spiraling through Casey’s body and forced pre-cum from the end of his cock to pool on his belly. Casey clenched Paul’s cock tightly, making him work for every thrust. “You’re so fucking hot,” Paul panted, his balls slapping against Casey’s ass. “You’re going to make me come,” he replied, his fingers tightening on Paul’s. Fierce male satisfaction lit Paul’s face. “I’ve never been quite this deep inside you.” “No one has. You’re in uncharted territory, mister.” Casey’s snappy reply coaxed a flash of a smile from Paul. He understood Casey had just told him no one else had ever brought him to that level of pleasure. Casey could see the comprehension in his gaze. God, he’d missed how Paul got him. That connection meant everything to him now. Waves of heat rippled through Casey, centering in his groin and ass. His eyes closed to slits and he lifted his hips, meeting each of Paul’s thrust. Above him, Paul’s dark eyes glittered with a fiercely primal light. “You are mine!” His gritted words echoed with an emotion Casey had never heard from him before. “Forever mine, mine, mine!” Paul surged against Casey, his hands gripping Casey’s, palm to palm in a way that held more intimacy than his cock sunk deep into the tightness of Casey’s ass. Paul hit Casey’s prostate again and rapture splintered inside him. His breath hitched and he convulsed with a cry. Paul took his mouth, swallowing his mewls of pleasure, their tongues entwined as Casey’s cock spewed hot cum onto his belly. Shuddering violently, Paul’s hard frame vibrated against Casey’s. Within him, Casey felt Paul’s cock surging and knew he filled the condom with his seed. Casey clung to Paul as tightly as his quivering muscles would allow as Paul’s fierce words echoed inside him. Paul’s possessiveness found a touchstone in Casey’s heart that fired his senses and emotions in a way no one – including Paul – ever had before. Their bodies cleaved together in an orgasmic dance of shudders, quakes and spasms. Energy flowed between them like an electrical charge. Casey had never felt so complete and he instinctively knew Paul felt the same. Every inch of Paul’s body owned every inch of his and they both knew it. When they finally separated and Paul turned away to dispose of the condom, Casey fell back against the pillows, his body humming. He could barely catch his breath and the smile on his face seemed to be permanent. Paul’s passionate lovemaking took him back to his youth but it was his possessiveness that made all the difference. All those years ago, Paul had never been possessive. Or if he had been, he’d never shown it. That lack of possessiveness had undermined Casey’s belief in Paul’s love. Well, that and all the crap he’d had to deal with in his life. Casey had told Paul the truth. He truly was tired. His life had been one struggle after another from the age of ten when his mother had become ill. In his late teens, both sexes had begun to notice him and show an interest, but Casey had never had anyone who treated him as his heart needed to be treated. They never cared enough to want to take his worries away from him. In fact, he’d taken care of more than one of them in the past decade. Paul had always been the one person in his life who’d been different. Yet, his lack of possessiveness had made Casey feel as if his declarations of love didn’t quite ring true. At least, he’d never thought Paul’s love was strong enough to have lasted all these years. Over the years, he imagined Paul married with a quartet of perfect children and a gorgeous supportive wife. The reality of Paul never having married had hit Casey with the force of a hurricane. For the first time in forever, Casey felt alive and he looked at the man beside him with new eyes. Paul’s easy going attitude had never meant that he wasn’t possessive. It only meant that he wasn’t the type to show it, especially to the man he loved. But tonight, Paul’s touch told of his possessiveness. He wanted Casey fiercely and his every action proclaimed that he didn’t want to lose him. Casey got the distinct impression that Paul would do anything to not lose him again. Brushing a kiss to Casey’s lips, Paul cleaned the cum from his ridged abdomen with a fistful of tissues from the bedside table. Then he settled beside Casey with a deep, heartfelt sigh of satisfaction. Casey smiled at Paul and reached out to rub a finger over the point of his shoulder, feeling the hard bone beneath his skin. “You didn’t have your leather jacket,” he murmured wickedly. Paul’s grin held every bit of the bad boy attitude he’d cultivated so many years before. “Don’t need it. You think I can’t fuck you into tomorrow unless I’m wearing a hunk of cow hide? Think again, baby. I just did it and I’ll do it again in about twenty minutes.” “Twenty!” Casey protested mockingly. “Used to be more like ten minutes.” Paul snorted. “We were young then. I used to only last ten minutes. With age comes experience and control. I can last longer but the recovery is a tad longer too.” “Tradeoffs,” Casey muttered, rolling his eyes. Hard hands pulled Casey against an equally hard body. “You like it. Don’t tell me you don’t.” “I’ve always liked everything you’ve ever done to me.” Casey leaned on Paul’s chest to look him in the eye. “Except let me go. I didn’t like that at all.” Paul’s brown eyes darkened and his expression did as well. “I didn’t like it either so I’m not about to do it again.” He kissed Casey hard on the lips, his serious expression never changing. “And you’d better not forget it.” He wouldn’t. When it came to Paul, he never forgot anything. It had cost Casey over the years to be so vested in someone he couldn’t have and it had contributed to his recent lack of interest in living. If he couldn’t be happy, couldn’t be with the only man he’d ever truly loved, why bother with life? Paul kissed Casey’s forehead lightly and held him more tightly. “Next go round, I want you inside me,” Paul whispered sleepily. “Some nights, it’s all I dream about. I could die happy with my cock in you or yours in me. All these years, every time I jerked off, it was to thoughts of you. You’re my dream and you always have been.” Casey closed his eyes. The sound of Paul’s breathing, the scent of his skin, the warmth of his body. All things that combined to give Casey a sense of having come home. He’d been right earlier when he determined that it was people not places that made up that place called home. And right now, in Paul’s arms, he was home. He’d found his heart and a little massage had it thumping just as hard as it ever had, pumping joy throughout his bloodstream. Casey couldn’t remember ever feeling so right. Dawn streaked the sky with pink and violet. Paul stared out the window and wondered if the night he’d just spent with Casey would translate to the “real world.” After all, it had been New Year’s Eve and God knew he’d had crappy luck with lovers on New Year’s Eve. He knew his own heart. He knew how much he wanted and needed Casey. He’d always wanted and needed the older man and as strong a personality as Casey had been when they were younger, Paul had never thought he could challenge the Casey’s decisions. When he decided the pressure of being together was too much and that he needed to leave, Paul hadn’t really tried to dissuade him although he had voiced a protest. A wussy protest. One he’d never backed up with action. In retrospect, he had no idea what the hell he’d been thinking to let Casey go. He shouldn’t have. He should have turned all macho man on him and refused to let him walk. And he shouldn’t have accepted Casey’s “No” ten years ago when he’d asked him to stay. He shouldn’t have been hurt by it. He should have been angry. He’d kissed him for God’s sake and it had been so fucking hot it had scorched him and still, he’d stood back and let Casey leave. What the hell had he been thinking? He snorted softly. Obviously, he hadn’t been thinking with the rational part of his brain or even the caveman part or he wouldn’t have let Casey leave either time. And if Casey thought he was leaving this time too, he had another thing coming. Paul wasn’t letting him out of his sight for the next fifty or so years. If Casey’s kid didn’t like it, too bad. If Paul’s kid didn’t like it, too bad. If any of their collective exes and friends and family didn’t like it, too fucking bad! This time it was for them and the rest of the world be damned. They had been far too good together the night before. He couldn’t remember ever having such fulfilling sex. He couldn’t remember ever feeling quite so happy or content. And he damned well felt whole once more as if he was eighteen again, standing on the cusp of the rest of his life. Fuck anyone who tried to take this happiness from him, including Casey himself. Paul refused to let him martyr himself and make them both unhappy for another twenty years. Casey owed him and Paul was all set to make him pay. “I thought last night was good. Better than good even. And here you are scowling at the window like you want to break it, like last night wasn’t as good as I thought it was.” Casey’s quiet teasing had Paul turning his head on the pillow to look at his lover. Casey smiled at him and despite the humor in his voice, Paul saw a flare of apprehension in his honey brown eyes. That was his cue. Slipping his hands beneath the sheet, he stroked his hands over Casey’s hard chest, feeling the flat, sensitive nipples peak instantly. Lust flushed Casey’s face and Paul grinned. No other man or woman had ever responded to him so readily. He bet if he touched Casey’s cock right now, he’d find the swollen tip wet with pre-cum. With a brief internal eye roll at how ridiculous he was to think about something instead of doing it, he stroked one hand down Casey’s torso to his corded thighs. He slipped his fingers between the hard flesh, pressing them open until he had easy access to Casey’s cock, balls and ass. Paul smiled at Casey’s startled face. He might be shocked at how fast Paul moved, but he was excited too. Paul stroked his forefinger over the length of Casey’s cock, coming to rest on the wet slit at the top. Casey sucked in a breath, then bit down on his lower lip. When Paul’s other hand pressed a finger inside Casey’s ass, his eyes grew wide. Hot, succulent flesh. Waiting only for him. Paul’s smile turned to a grin that he knew had to be slightly predatory. No way was Casey walking. Paul would cuff him to the bed before he let that happen. Releasing Casey’s cock, he reached for the lube and in moments he was two fingers deep into Casey’s ass, making the tight channel slippery. Rolling up onto his knees, he let them push Casey’s thighs wide. Pulling his fingers free, he braced on his elbows above his lover, letting their wet cocks rub together. His hips undulated as he pushed himself against Casey. His lover’s eyes glazed over, passion taking over his expression. “I could push into you right now,” he threatened, letting his bare cock head bump against Casey’s opening. “No condom. No anything to stop me from marking you with my seed.” “Shit!” Casey hissed, his expression slightly alarmed. Satisfaction speared through Paul. Casey’s alarm was nothing. He could see how much the thought of going bare excited the man. “I’m clean. I test regularly and I haven’t been with anyone, man or woman, in over a year,” he told Casey. He held himself motionless, waiting for Casey’s reply. One shuddering breath later, Casey admitted, “I’m clean too. I tested less than six months ago and it’s been about eight or nine months since I’ve been with anyone.” That was all Paul needed. He let his cock lead. It pushed forward, the head pressing against Casey’s tight sphincter. Casey’s breathing took on a harsh tenor. With a short, hard thrust, he breached Casey’s ass. Paul stopped, the blunt tip of his cock wedged just inside Casey. He knew he was playing with fire. His cock leaked a steady stream of pre-cum already and he wasn’t so old that he couldn’t fire off a round pre-maturely. Before he did any firing, he needed to think for a moment. Casey had pretty much given him permission to bareback, so it wasn’t like they were being all that irresponsible. They’d apparently both been responsible lovers in the past with other partners so the risk wouldn’t be that great and damned if his heart and his cock didn’t think it was a great idea to go bare. “We did this once before,” he reminded Casey. “The night I had my leather jacket on.” Casey nodded, his breath coming in pants. “I remember.” “It was a stupid risk. We were young and not thinking responsibly.” Casey nodded again, his gaze never leaving Paul’s. Deliberately, Paul thrust deep inside Casey. His lover gasped, fingers digging into Paul’s biceps. He stilled. “This is no risk, Casey. This is me telling you that we belong together. I am committed to you, to us. I don’t want anyone else and I don’t want anything between us. We’ve been apart too long and I’m not willing to let you go again. I will do anything it takes to make you stay with me, including marking you with my cum inside and out.” Casey stared at him, mouth open in shock and Paul realized maybe he’d been a little too caveman. He was just about to apologize when Casey’s mouth closed and his lips turned up in a smile. “You’re serious.” He didn’t phrase the words as a question, but Paul nodded anyway. “Well, I guess that’s that then.” Casey stared up at Paul with that quirky little smile still on his lips and confused, Paul just stared back not sure what had just happened. When Paul didn’t move or speak, Casey shifted beneath him, tilting his hips up and wrapping his legs around Paul’s hips. His cock slipped in a little deeper, making Casey moan softly. “Are you gonna stay like that all morning? ‘Cause I gotta tell you, I’m hungry. I didn’t get any dinner last night,” Casey murmured, his voice low and seductive. “I could definitely go for fast and furious right now so I can get caffeinated as soon as possible.” Happiness splintered through Paul and he lowered his mouth to Casey’s, stopping when they were a breath away from touching. “You bitch,” he whispered on a chuckle. “I’ll show you fast and furious!” Casey laughed, the sound filled with joy. He threw his arms around Paul and held him tightly. “I know we have a lot to work out. We’ve both changed over the years. I know that fundamentally we’re the same people we were before and what’s between us is obviously alive and well despite the passage of eighteen years. It’s a miracle to me that on the night I felt the lowest I have in my entire life, I’ve been given back the greatest love of my life. I love you, Paul. Whatever the future brings, we can work it out together. I await your marking.” Paul nuzzled his lover’s throat, visions of their future playing out in his head. “I love you too, Casey. I’m so glad you came home. But I have a question for you, a question I should have asked ten years ago.” He smiled against Casey’s skin. “Will you come home to me? Will you finally give us the chance you walked away from eighteen years ago?” Happiness suffused Casey’s face. “After all this time, I’ve found my heart and I’m never letting go of it again,” Casey vowed. “Yes, I’ll come home to you. Happy New Year, Paul.” Paul kissed Casey then and showed his caveman side as the sun broke over the horizon, lighting a new day, a new year and the start of their lives together. About the Author Lex Valentine is a bestselling, award winning author who writes across genres from contemporary to urban fantasy in both M/M and M/F. A native of Monterey County, California, Lex now lives in a canyon in Orange County, California with Rott, her long haired tattooed husband, and bunch of cats she calls “babies.” She loves loud rock and alternative music, builds her own computers, and works full-time at a cemetery as the network administrator. She also enjoys creating cover art with her daughter Nikki, a graphic arts student, as the award winning team of Winterheart Design. Lex is a member of Romance Writers of America and the PASIC, Fantasy, Futuristic & Paranormal, and Orange County California chapters of RWA. You’ll find her door always open to readers at lex@lexvalentine.com.