Love Wins Read online

  Paul ignored Jazzmine and glanced around. Nothing had changed. There was a television in the corner, furniture that had probably been in the apartment fossilizing twenty years ago, and the place still reeked of cigarette smoke and mold.

  From where Paul could see, there was a cracked Formica table still littered with liquor bottles in the dark kitchen. Nothing had changed. Aunt Carlotta, and probably Jazzmine now, was still trying to kill herself with alcohol. It was just as miserable, just as dank as he remembered it as a child.

  “Ignore her, Paul. Look, no one knows where Mama is right now. She left and hasn’t been back. Don’t worry. This is the usual around here,” Constantine said. “Wish I could do something, but she won’t let me, and that girl there is on the same fucked-up path.”

  Paul looked back to his cousin. “Why are you here?” He’d regretted his words the minute the light dimmed in Constantine’s brown eyes.

  Constantine looked down. “Injured. Can’t go back. But I’m going to make it out of here. I’ve interviewed at a few places, even thinking about going back to school like you did, you know? Get another chance to make it better, to be happy. Everyone gets to be happy. Even us.” His look told Paul exactly what Constantine had been going through, how much he’d been suffering all alone. His cousin’s groan was painful to hear, burdened with the hurt of a man who’d had an opportunity stolen from him. There were secrets there that only he knew. “Didn’t want to come here, but when you have nothing else—”

  No way. No fucking way was the only person trying to shine in this dark miserable place going to stay here if Paul could do something to help. “You have something else, someplace else.”

  “What?”

  “Look, I’m letting the condo go. I was going to sell it, but you could stay there until you get on your feet,” Paul said.

  “So you’re going to give him your nice house, put his broken ass up. What about us? What about Mama? I thought you wanted to see her,” Jazzmine said.

  Paul turned to face her. “Jazzmine, you and Aunt Carlotta were happy living off the money I sent you. Oh, and that stops now because from what I see, you’re not doing anything with it. I’m giving Constantine a chance to get out of this hellhole and start a new life. You and Aunt Carlotta? I’m done feeling guilty for something that was never my fault.” He turned back to Constantine. “Do you want that chance, Constantine?”

  “Oh hell, yeah. You know I do. Thank you, man. Thank you.” Constantine took Paul in his arms again and hugged him.

  Paul did something he’d never done in Aunt Carlotta’s home. He smiled.

  Everyone needed the chance to start a new life, to be happy.

  Even Paul.

  HEADING HOME today, Paul typed.

  Okay, getting some work done, Brad typed back.

  There was a pause, and then Paul’s phone dinged again.

  Can I see you? Brad typed.

  Be waiting when I get there, Paul typed.

  Turning off his phone, he picked up his carry-on and headed to the plane, ready to go home.

  IX.

  BE WAITING when I get there, Paul’s text read. How many times had Brad almost called, almost texted? And now this message. Brad wasn’t sure what to do or what that even meant. One thing was certain, though. He wasn’t getting any more work done today.

  Brad shut his computer down.

  As he drove down to Publix to pick up some things, he remembered Saturday evening, the second kiss Paul and he’d shared. He’d been over and over it again in his head. Too fast! Slow down! But he didn’t and he couldn’t.

  He didn’t know when the need for Paul had outweighed his logic or his desire to taste him overwhelmed his ability to remember they were just friends, but he wasn’t going back. Somewhere along the line, Brad had fallen in love with Paul, and he hoped that just maybe Paul felt the same.

  Had Paul’s text meant what he hoped he did? Was Paul ready for more between them?

  He honestly didn’t know, but fuck if he wasn’t going to be open to whatever Paul was ready to give.

  Brad opened the door of Paul’s home and struggled to hold the bags as he walked back to Paul’s kitchen. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d cooked a meal for him. When he learned one of the main reasons Double Dragon was his friend’s go-to was because he couldn’t cook, he was more than pleased to show off his culinary skills.

  Tonight, he was making apricot Dijon glazed salmon. He wasn’t certain when Paul would be in since he hadn’t sent his flight number, so Brad sent a text to have him contact him as soon as he touched down. The meal would only take thirty minutes to cook, and he wanted it to be ready when Paul arrived.

  He was putting wine in a bucket to chill when he heard his phone. He’d already watched a few episodes of some reality show, too amped up about Paul coming home to pay any real attention.

  There in 20 minutes, Paul texted.

  That would be just enough time to get things ready.

  Got it. See you soon, Brad texted back.

  He pulled the salmon from the marinade and got to work.

  About twenty minutes later, Brad heard the door opening. He dried his hands off and tossed away the towel, then walked through the kitchen and out into the living room.

  Brad swallowed deeply. Paul had only been gone for a weekend, but he’d missed him. The way the two left off Saturday night, and not even talking like they usually did Sunday, he hadn’t been sure what to think.

  “Hi,” Brad stepped forward.

  “Hi,” Paul said. “Smells good in here.” He put his bags down and pushed the door shut behind him.

  “Cooked. I thought you’d be hungry,” Brad said.

  Paul moved toward Brad, held out his hand, and Brad took it, his heart pulsing wildly in his chest.

  “I’m hungry, but I want something else right now.”

  Brad swallowed, his body on alert, his cock swelling in his pants. “Are you sure?”

  Brad sighed as Paul put his arms around him, pulled him close. Lifting up, Paul placed his lips against Brad’s own and slipped his tongue into Brad’s mouth.

  “Paul,” Brad whispered around his friend’s tongue, then took in a shaky breath when Paul slipped his hand underneath Brad’s shirt. “I need you to be sure. I want you so much. Didn’t know how much until you left and I wasn’t sure if you would even call me.”

  Paul slid his hand down Brad’s belly until he was at the catch of his shorts. He unbuttoned them and moved in to kiss Brad deeper.

  Moaning when he wrapped his hand around Brad’s dick, Paul said, “I’m sure. I needed to think, to know I was ready for this, ready for you, and I am, Brad. I want the chance.” Then, hand still around Brad, Paul backed him down the hall and into the bedroom, kissing him along the way.

  X.

  BRAD LAY stretched out before Paul, completely naked and vulnerable, his cock raised in the air and bent slightly, the tip wet from precum. The way he watched Paul, his eyes hooded and his hand tracing a path from his nipples to the dips in his abs and then down to his dick and even his balls, made Paul even harder than he’d been when he’d opened the door to see Brad in his home, waiting for Paul just like he’d asked him to.

  “You look beautiful like this,” Paul said. He watched Brad as he took off his own clothes and dropped them to the floor, laughing gently at the way Brad’s eyes widened when he saw all of him. “Don’t worry. I’ll help you get ready first.” Paul dropped down to the bed and climbed over Brad, taking him as his own.

  Bending down, Paul enjoyed the gasp Brad made when he took Brad’s cock into his mouth and swallowed deeply.

  “Paul. Shit, baby.”

  Paul smiled, his mouth completely filled with Brad’s dick, and groaned while he took in as much as he could before sliding off and doing it all again. After the third trip down, his lips grazed the root of Brad’s dick. He rose and released Brad’s hefty weight from his mouth.

  “Yes, Brad?” He laughed as Brad reached for him, hands fr
antic and his hips moving erratically back and forth.

  “What? No. Nothing, just do that again.” When Paul took him back in, he moaned over Brad’s glands, loving the shivers that followed. “Oh. Yeah. Right there. Right fucking there.”

  Paul sucked him, hollowing out his cheeks to add the necessary pressure to make Brad scream, which he did in succession, his muscular thighs trembling, his gasps louder and louder as he rode the wave of release.

  When Brad slowed, no longer screaming out his pleasure, his legs dropped to the side and away from Paul’s head. Breathless, he reached for Paul, who climbed up his body, the two of them holding each other close.

  “That was unbelievable,” Brad said, his chest still rising and falling.

  “Yes, you are,” Paul said. “I’m going to take a nap, then we’re going to eat. Then we’re doing that again. Only this time you’ll be coming with my dick inside you.” He pulled the blanket over the two of them, and they went to sleep.

  PAUL AWOKE to the feel of fingers touching him, running over his hair, down his face, along his neck. Then those feathery touches traced over his nipples, across his abdomen, and grazed over his interested cock.

  “Nice size you’re packing there,” Brad said when Paul pulled one of Brad’s hands up to his lips and kissed his fingers.

  Paul laughed. “Thought I’d be smaller because I’m not a giant like you, huh?” He yawned, stretching his arms wide, then climbed over him. When Brad moved to kiss him and sighed into his mouth, Paul moaned. “Mmmmm. That’s good, but I’m hungry. Let’s see what smelled so good in that kitchen.”

  One shared shower later, the two sat at the table, and Paul looked across the table to see Brad smiling back at him. Since the salmon was a loss, they enjoyed the salad instead.

  “Thank you, Brad.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Not just for this.” When Brad squinted at him in confusion, Paul went on. “Thank you for seeing me that day, for finding me.”

  Brad opened his mouth to argue.

  “I didn’t know how much I needed someone when Gavriel was taken from me. I thought I was okay with Adina leaving me behind, with another person going away.

  “When I went back, I saw my mother’s family, my cousins. My mom’s dead, and my aunt raised me.” Before Brad could say he was sorry for something that wasn’t his fault, Paul went on. “When my mom died, it was like I had too. My aunt didn’t want me, didn’t want another mouth to feed. She made sure I knew it every day I lived there.

  “When I left New York, I promised myself I would never go back. But I did. First with Gavriel when his family couldn’t stand him being married to a man, much less a black man, and again after kissing you scared the shit out of me.”

  Paul stood and walked away from the table. “But while I was there, I saw my cousin Constantine. My cousin Jazzmine was being the person her mother made her, but Constantine, he’d gotten out of there, just like me.” Paul turned back to Brad, who almost moved to him but stopped when Paul put his hand up. “No, let me finish this.” Paul took a deep breath.

  “Constantine was injured in the military. Unfortunately he wasn’t going to heal the way Uncle Sam wanted him to, so he came home, but he had nowhere to go and ended up back in a place anyone with sense would have left behind, running as fast as their legs could carry them.

  “Still, he had hope, you know.” Paul smiled at Brad. “He was only there until he could find his way out. He even stood up for me while I was there. He said, ‘Everyone gets to be happy. Even us.’ We all have a chance for happiness, Brad. Constantine. Jazzmine. Even my Aunt Carlotta. Me.” Paul went to Brad.

  “Brad, when you kissed me before I left, I didn’t know if I was ready, but just like Constantine is ready to try again to be happy, I realize I am too. I’m sorry I left you the way I did.” Paul laid his hand on Brad’s chest, over his heart.

  Brad swallowed deeply before he spoke. “I didn’t want you to think I was trying to replace him. I know you need time, will continue to need time.”

  Paul laid his head on Brad’s shoulder. “I will. I can’t promise I’ll ever stop hurting, but I know I can have happiness. I want my second chance, and I want it to be with you. I’m falling in love with the man who saw me, saw I needed someone, the man who became my friend.”

  Brad’s eyes were wet when he looked down at Paul, his hair falling into his eyes. “I love you, Paul. Thank you for letting me have a chance to love you.”

  XI.

  BRAD HELD on to Paul tightly, his heart thundering in his chest. Paul was falling in love with him. It was beautiful and fucking scary all at once. It was more than he’d ever dreamed and greater than he realized he wanted the first time he saw the Gavriel Bachman’s husband.

  “I’ll never try to make you forget Gavriel,” Brad said. “In fact, I have something to show you.”

  Paul smiled tenderly up at Brad. “I’m not worried. I never will be.” When Brad moved, Paul said, “Not now. This time is just for us.” He reached for Brad’s hand.

  “It’ll only take a second. I got it back today,” Brad said. He’d packed it first, excited for Paul to see it, but before he could move to get his bag, Paul grasped his hand firmly.

  “I loved Gavriel for fourteen years, Brad. If he could say anything to me right now, he would tell me to be happy, to live in the present. He would have been so angry at me allowing a man bent on hate to take away the joy I could have. This is our time. I promise I’ll look at what you have to show me later. Right now, I want to enjoy us.” The hunger in Paul’s eyes melted away any argument Brad had left.

  WHEN THEY entered the bedroom, Brad kissing Paul’s neck, his shoulders, twisting his nipples, there was nothing else on his mind.

  “Down on the bed, Paul. I want to taste you, touch you.”

  Paul laughed when Brad didn’t wait for him to obey, just pushed him, making Paul flail as he fell to the bed. Before Paul could move, Brad was on him, wrapping his arms around him, shoving his knee between Paul’s thighs and separating them.

  “Fuck, Brad.” Paul’s eyes blazed.

  “Yeah, that’s what I want to do too. So glad we’re in agreement on that.” Brad bent down, captured Paul’s nipple between his teeth, and whipped his tongue over the velvety flesh again and again while Paul groaned, his sounds of enjoyment spurring Brad on.

  Paul seemed to like being manhandled, and Brad was willing and able to give him just what he needed.

  Lifting his head, Brad said, “So you want to fuck me?”

  Paul opened his eyes wider, the pupils blown, his lips wet and swollen from Brad’s kiss. The hesitation there was all Brad needed.

  “No, you don’t. You want me inside of you, don’t you, baby?” When Paul looked away, Brad reached up and caught Paul’s chin between his fingers, forcing him to look at him. “You don’t have to say anything. I have you, Paul. I’ll take care of you. I promise.” Brad realized that Paul needed Brad to take charge, that he needed to trust someone to take care of him.

  Brad spread Paul wide, using his hands to keep his thighs apart as he moved down between his legs. Inhaling Paul’s scent, he dipped low to take each of his balls inside his mouth. Tenderly sucking at first, then gradually sucking harder, he reveled in the gasps of Paul’s pleasure.

  When Paul shook beneath him, Brad moved up to take Paul’s massive dick in his mouth, blowing him, tugging him in and out.

  “Brad, oh God. Brad, how do you…? No one…. Shit.” Paul’s cries edged Brad to the point of release. He lifted while Paul’s breath rushed in and out.

  “Do you have anything we can use? I want to make it good for you, and I didn’t think—”

  Paul’s eyes were glazed when he spoke, his chest rising and falling. “In the nightstand, top drawer.”

  Reaching into the drawer of the nightstand beside Paul’s bed, Brad pulled out the items he needed. Brad squirted his fingers with lube, then leaned over Paul and looked into his eyes, saw the fear he was tryin
g to hide.

  “Paul, I’m going to take care of you.”

  Paul moaned as Brad inserted a finger into his tight hole and twisted slowly back and forth, stretching him.

  “God, Brad,” Paul said.

  “I’m going to love you, cook for you, watch over you,” Brad inserted two more fingers, opening Paul even farther. “Keep you safe,” he said as Paul watched him, his heart in his eyes.

  Paul cried out when Brad replaced his fingers with his cock, sank deep into his heat, finding home within Paul’s body.

  “I’m always going to be here for you.” Brad gazed into Paul’s eyes, the fear replaced with warmth now.

  Paul was his, would always be his.

  Brad covered Paul with his body, fucking him, Paul’s screams bouncing off the walls of the room as Brad thrust, his hole sucking in Brad’s dick. Paul’s nails trailed down Brad’s spine, his breaths harsh as he wrapped his legs around him.

  Brad was sorry, so sorry that Paul had lost Gavriel, a man Paul loved and would love forever. If he could speak to Gavriel Bachman, he would promise him that he would never let Paul go, never let him give up hope.

  “I love you, Paul. Love you.” Brad grabbed Paul’s wrists and placed them above his head while he thrust, bottoming out.

  Paul was Brad’s chance at happiness, his chance of hope, and he would value every moment, every second Paul chose to share with him.

  When Brad angled his dick, crashing against that bundle of nerves, Paul shouted, his dick spilling hot and wet between them.

  Brad released then, his come pulling everything out of him as he fell down over Paul, the man he loved.

  LATER, THEY held each other while Paul turned through the pages of Brad’s work.

  “It’s amazing, Brad.” It had arrived today, and Paul was the first person Brad showed his article to, the pages profiling the lives of the people left behind, the pain and the trials. But there were other stories too, stories of survival, or coming together. There were stories of changes being made.