Come What May (All Saints) by A.M. Arthur

Author:A.M. Arthur [Arthur, A.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Carina Press
Published: 2016-05-23T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Jonas wanted Tate to stay over, curled up in his arms all night long, so badly that he physically ached when Tate slipped away. Back to his own bed in his own apartment. Probably not a bad thing if Tate was as turned around by their last round of sex as Jonas was. An orgasm or two was one thing, but this had been about more. It hadn’t simply been two guys needing to get off.

Tonight sex had been about intimacy. It had been about them.

After cleaning up, he flopped into bed and stared up, his thoughts as murky as the shadowed ceiling above him. He hadn’t simply fucked Tate tonight, he’d fucking made love to him, and he had never felt so safe and content afterward. Something about Tate called to him on a cellular level, and Jonas wasn’t sure he’d ever be free of the man. He’d imprinted himself onto Jonas’s soul, and it was as scary as it was exhilarating.

Exhilarating to think another human being meant so much to him, and he’d bet money Tate felt something similar. In those first moments post-orgasm, Tate had been totally naked in his arms—physically and emotionally. Jonas had seen...something. And it was something wonderful. He’d spent years convincing himself and the world that he was straight, and now he was falling for the very literal boy next door.

He was so fucked.

Except he wasn’t. Jonas had never felt more alive and grounded in his life, as if he’d finally discovered the meaning of life and Tate was stashed firmly in the center. He’d found a kind of happiness he’d never expected, and it was as fragile as frozen flower petals.

The smallest tap and everything could shatter.

He drifted and dreamed about a field of frozen poppies, like in The Wizard of Oz, only instead of putting people to sleep, the poppies had teeth and kept trying to bite his balls. He woke in a sweat, then took a shower to wash away the weirdness clinging to him.

Finding Tate at the breakfast table with Doris, Raymond and Paps nearly had him tripping over himself. Tate smiled innocently from behind a mug of coffee.

“Morning, Jonas,” Aunt Doris said. “I put a fresh stack of pancakes on the table. Help yourself.”

“Thanks. Morning.” Jonas sat across the table from Tate and helped himself to two pancakes.

He was drowning them in fake maple syrup when Doris chirped, “I’m surprise you boys are functioning this morning.”

Jonas blinked stupidly, his stomach cramping. “What?”

“Oh, Tate dropped by this morning because he said he forgot the DVD you two watched last night. I know what time he stays at the shelter until, so I teased him about his late night out.”

“Then she made up for it by feeding me,” Tate added.

Tension bled away under the force of Tate’s grin. “Oh, yeah, we did. I’d never seen Moulin Rouge! before.”

“It’s an amazing film,” Aunt Doris said. “Hard to believe it came out so long ago. Claire was just a baby. Time certainly flies.

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