words choke me up. He’s never let me see the scars in the light and only in bits and pieces, now he’s offering to show me everything?
“You don’t have to prove anything to me.” I squeeze the back of his neck in my hands.
“I want to.” He presses a kiss to my lips quickly. “I need to feel you against me.” Preston kisses me again then takes my hand, grabs some clothes, and leads me into the bathroom.
“You want to fuck me in the most echo-prone room in the house while my entire family is downstairs?” That’s ballsy, even for him.
He chuckles that dark laugh that has the hair all over my body standing up.
“I’m not going to fuck you, Albrooke.” He turns the water on then backs me against the wall. “I just want to touch you.”
My cock twitches and my skin heats.
“Oh, no,” I cry say in a mock outrage. “Not that, the horror.”
He smiles and bites his lip, eyes locked on my mouth. “Okay, fine. You don’t get to come.”
Preston reaches for my shirt and I lift my hands as he pulls it off and drops it on the floor.
I reach for his shirt and he tenses but doesn’t stop me.
“Can I?” I ask quietly. He turns and moves away from me so I let go of him, trying not to take it personally. He takes a few steps to the door and flicks the light off, dowsing the room into dim shadow.
Preston steps back in front of me and lifts his hands, his eyes clenched tight. Careful not to touch him, I lift the shirt and drop it on the floor. My eyes are locked on his face. Now that I can see the evidence of his abuse, I don’t want to. I’m scared.
It takes a minute for my head to process what I’m seeing because I can’t make it make sense. There are so many scars. Everywhere. Straight lines cut into his skin in various stages of healing, some thin and white, some thick and bright red, and everything in between.
Preston lowers his hands back to his sides, hands balling in fists then relaxing, over and over. My gaze follows the movement and drags over his torso.
It hurts my heart to see the pain he’s lived through.
His body is tight with tension, probably afraid of my reaction. I place my hands on his hips and lean forward to kiss one of the still bright red scars. Preston flinches at my touch and pants when my lips brush his skin.
He shudders but lets me kiss an older scar this time. Just a gentle brush, barely a touch. No sooner than my lips have left his skin, he grips my head and pulls me up to slam his mouth over mine and presses his bare chest to mine. He gasps into the kiss when our skin meets, tears flowing down his cheeks to drip onto his chest. The light scattering of chest hair tickles my skin, the growth pattern strange because of all the scars, but that doesn’t detract from how beautiful he is.
Slowly, I slide my hands inside his pants, cupping his bare ass in my hands and kneading the muscles. I groan when he flexes and thrusts his dick against mine.
Steam is filling the small room as we comfort ourselves and each other with our bodies. We remove the last of our clothes, touching and kissing until our lips are sore and swollen. There are more scars on his legs and his back, but most are on his chest and abdomen. Now I know why he doesn’t change in the locker room with everyone else. My soul hurts for him.
We climb into the shower, Preston hunkering down to get his head in the water, and I snicker at him.
“What?”
“You’re a giant.” He glares at me but pulls me against him, shuddering when my body meets his.
“It’s going to take a while to get used to that,” he mutters, more to himself than to me. I kiss his throat and his dick twitches against my thigh.
“Where can I touch you?” I drag my lips along his collar bone, licking at the water on his skin.
His breathing stutters. “Everywhere.”
Preston grips my biceps, his fingers digging into the muscles of my arms as I explore the expanse of his back, not staying in any one spot too long, but just enjoying his body.
“No one has touched me since my mother died, unless it was to inflict pain,” he whispers against my lips. “I crave it but it hurts.”
My hands immediately leave his skin, hovering over his body. The idea of causing him more pain breaks my heart. I can’t hurt him.
“No, no.” He pulls my hands back against him. “I need it, please.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.” My throat is clogged with emotion, making it hard to speak.
“You don’t. You make it better.”
His words fill the cracks in my heart with light, he fills in the holes I didn’t know I had.
He lets me wash him and I get distracted by his thick, hard dick for a minute, stroking him until he’s rocking into my fist, but he stops me to return the favor and wash me before we take it too far. We’re running out of hot water so we rinse off quickly and step out. Preston dries his body off while I watch, enamored with the way his muscles flex and relax as he moves.
“You’ve got the best ass.” I grab his ass cheek when he turns to put on his underwear. He flinches but snorts.
“Have you seen your ass?”
I wrap my towel around me and watch him pull his pants up. “Do you ever bottom?”
Preston catches my eyes in the mirror and lifts one eyebrow.
“No.”
Feet pound up the stairs and across the hallway, the twins must be getting dressed to go.
“We better hurry up.” I sigh. “My brothers will be barging in here any minute.”
Preston pulls his shirt over his head and I open the door to get dressed in the bedroom.
“Thanks for using all the hot water, dick!” one of the boys yells from their bedroom.
“You’re welcome!” I holler back without missing a beat.
“Sorry!” Preston says at the same time.
I smirk and shake my head. “You obviously didn’t live with your sibling. We aren’t sorry for shit.”
“Wait,” both boys say in unison.
Keith’s head pops around the corner of his bedroom door. “You were both in the shower?”
I smile and wag my eyebrows at him. “Being an adult has perks, kid.”
“There better not be jizz left in there,” Jordan yells from their room.
“Twice as much as normal!” I yell back and close my bedroom door.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? You just told them we fucked in the shower!” I’m not sure if he’s shocked or outraged. Both are equally amusing.
I cackle and dig in my dresser for some clothes.
“Yup.”
He stares at me like I’ve lost my mind.
“Why would you tell them that?” The exasperation is heavy in his tone.
“Now when they come to a closed door, they’ll fucking knock.”
He laughs and the real smile makes my heart soar. I put that there. Me.
I walk over to him, rest my head on his chest, and wrap my arms around him. He holds me, lets me just enjoy the moment. I think he needs it too, honestly. Soft touches, anything not sexually charged, are not normal for him. I grew up with parents and grandparents who were huggers, siblings that would crowd onto a couch to watch TV, so I’m only touch starved at school. But Preston has lived a life without human contact.
It’s not long after our shower that we load up in the vehicles and head to my grandparents. I help Stacy by getting Ella in their car then get into the rental car with Preston, who is wearing one of my jackets. It’s at least an inch too short in the arms but it’s better than nothing.
“You’re really good with her,” he says when I slide in and buckle up.
I can’t help but smile. “I love that kid,” I sigh. “I just wish I wasn’t missing so much of her life right now. I don’t want her to forget me.”
“She can’t forget you, you’re too involved in her life.” He’s adamant, holding my hand in his lap. “You’re a great dad.”
Uh. What? My brain skids to a halt as I try to wrap my head around what he just said.
“She’s. I’m. Wait.” I shake my head and start over. “I’m her uncle.”
I pull up to a stop sign and turn to look at him. He’s confused now too. Great.
“Why did you think she was mine?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “You call her baby girl, you video call with her all the time, and you’ve been taking care of her since I got here.”
“She’s Stacy’s daughter but her dad isn’t around. He took off right after she found out she was pregnant so we all pitched in to help. I haven’t been around in months and I miss her.”
“Oh.” Preston’s neck turns pink and it crawls up his face. It’s fucking adorable.
“You know I’m gay, right? I’ve only been with men,” I say and he plays with my fingers.
“Me too. Girls have never interested me,” Preston shrugs.
While driving, I lift his hand and kiss the back of it when something he said earlier clicks into place. “Is this why you said you weren’t made for babies? Because you thought I had one?”
“Yeah. I’m impatient, selfish, don’t like to be touched, short-tempered, and not comforting.” He’s starting to spiral again, but he’s wrong. All of it is wrong.
“Preston, shut up.” I say it as nicely as I can. “That’s all bullshit.”
“No it’s not—” He starts to argue as I pull up in front of my grandparent’s house and shut off the car.
“Stop.” I turn to look at him. “How you are with adults is not the same as how you would be with kids. The guys on the ice with you are adult-ish, testosterone-driven jocks. Sometimes they need to get their asses handed to them. Kids are different.”
When he says nothing, just looks defeated, I continue. “And, I would be there with you. To help you figure it all out. I have a lot of experience with different age groups because of coaching, my siblings, and now my niece. I also grew up in a neighborhood with kids at every house of varying ages.” I pull his hand into my lap. “I wouldn’t let you fail.”
My brothers run over to the car and pound on the windows like a couple of jack-offs.
He flinches and turns to glare at them. They run off laughing and Grandma is waving us into the house.
“Come on.” I lean across the center console and give him a quick kiss. “I’ve already told everyone you aren’t a hugger so they will give you hearty handshakes instead.”
“Thank you,” he murmurs, a little of the tension leaving his shoulders.
“I’ve got you.”
We head inside with his hand in mine. Grandma wraps her arms around me in a hug but I don’t let go of Preston.
“We will talk later,” she whispers in my ear before patting my back and letting me go. She smiles at me and pats my cheek as Preston steps up behind me, using me as a human shield.
“Grandma, this is my boyfriend, Preston.” I smile at him over my shoulder.
He offers his hand to her and she graciously takes it, shaking his hand.
“It’s nice to meet you, Preston.” She gives him a comforting smile. “Let’s get inside, come on.”
She steps inside and I mutter over my shoulder to Preston, “This will be a very carb-heavy day. We’ll workout tomorrow.”
He groans but doesn’t say anything. We head into the living room where everyone is sitting on the couches. There’s only one spot left, in the middle between Stacy and my mom. I offer it to Preston even though I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want it. He shakes his head so I sit and he takes a seat in front of me, pulling my legs over his shoulders and wrapping his arms around them like he’s once again using me as a shield or an anchor.
He leans his head back on the seat, meeting my eyes, and I wink at him, running my hand through his hair. The poor guy is on edge but trying so hard. He’s afraid of embarrassing me.
Mom leans down to talk to him and he flinches when she gets too close. She freezes and flicks her gaze to me for a second before turning back to him.
“Are you feeling okay?”
“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.” He nods and gives her a tentative, forced smile. Mom reaches to pat his arm but stops herself. She’s a touchy-feely kind of mom, so not offering physical comfort to someone in distress is difficult for her. With her, everything can be fixed with a hug and a bowl of macaroni and cheese.
Mom sits back, her hands folded in her lap. I lean my head on her shoulder and she kisses my hair.
“Preston, do you have siblings?” Stacy asks, shoving one of our traditional Santa-shaped sugar cookies in her mouth.
“Classy,” I tell her. She gives me a cookie-filled smile. Ella toddles around, playing with toys Grandma has set out to keep her busy.
“Yes, a younger sister.” Preston answers, sitting up straighter.
“Where’s she at?” Stacy dunks another cookie in milk and breaks off a little piece for Ella, who has noticed she’s got food.
“She’s at school in New York.” Preston watches Ella like he’s afraid of her. Ella eyes Preston, and when Stacy gives her a little piece of cookie, she offers it to him. He looks too terrified to move. When he doesn’t acknowledge Ella’s offering, she shoves it into his mouth and I snort. He jumps, jerking his head back at the unexpected movement.
Stacy nods as she chews. “She’s in college then?”
“No, high school. She’s at Calomy Academy in White Plains.”
The boys pop their heads up from their phones, now interested in the conversation.
“High school?” They ask in unison. I glare at both of them.
Ella turns and sits in Preston’s lap, pushing her way between my calves, and lays her head against his chest. He tenses up, completely out of his depth, but doesn’t push her away. She starts babbling and lifts her little hand up to Stacy to get another bite of cookie. Preston, unsure of what to do with his hands, hovers them over Ella, puts them on his legs, then onto the floor.
Mom reaches for Ella, probably to get her to get off of Preston, but I put a hand on her arm and shake my head. He needs this. She gives me an are you sure look and I nod.
“Don’t even think about it,” Preston says to my brothers in that no nonsense way of his. Ella turns to them and babbles in a similar tone and I laugh. She’s found a new love and I couldn’t be happier.
“What the hell are you going to do anyway? She’s in New York,” I toss out, shaking my head at them. “And she would chew you up and spit you out. She’s not going to deal with your crap.”
“You’ve met her?” Stacy butts in, smiling at her daughter when she looks up at Preston and touches his cheek so he looks at her.
“Yeah, she came out for Thanksgiving and went to the games that weekend. I helped her surprise Preston.” I run my fingers through his soft black hair again. Seeing Ella accept him warms my heart. Kids are such good judges of character.
“Is she spending Christmas with your parents?” Mom asks and Preston tenses.
“No, ma’am. My mother died a long time ago and my father goes to somewhere tropical every year. She’s at school.” The muscle in his cheek is jumping. Flexing my calves, I pull him back into the couch, putting pressure on his chest. It’s as close to a hug as I can get right now without everyone getting weird.
Preston sucks in a deep breath and lets it out.
“My family isn’t close,” he says and I’m proud of him for it. Eyes shift around the room, Stacy looking at Dad, the boys looking at me then mom, then Stacy. Grandma looks at Dad then Mom.
“Well,” Grandma speaks up. “We’re happy to have you with us.”
Grandpa comes down the hallway with the newspaper folded under his arm and reading glasses low on his nose.
“Who’s here yet?” he asks. Preston shoves my legs off his shoulders, jumps up off the floor, putting Ella on her feet, and pulling on his clothes to release any wrinkles. I stand up behind him to make the introduction but he steps forward with his hand out.
“Hello, sir, I’m Preston,” he says. Grandpa eyes him for a second, taking in how tall he is, the serious set of his face.
He shakes Preston’s hand. “Nice to meet ya, son.”
My grandpa looks like a gruff country man with a few missing fingers, some gnarly scars, and some scary-as-hell hunting stories, but he’s a good man. He doesn’t care how much money you have or where you went to school, he’d watch a Bears game with anyone, would love to hear about that big fish you caught, or how big the buck was you took down last year. I love him. We all do.
“You’re with Jeremy yet?” He motions to me and I can see the wheels spinning in Preston’s head.
“Yes, Grandpa. Preston is with me.” I put my hand on his hip and whisper to Preston. “He says yet at the end of most sentences.”
“Good, good. Let’s eat yet.”
The twins hop up and rush for the dining room like they haven’t eaten in weeks. Ella hustles to Preston and reaches for his hand. He has to hunker down to hold it, but he does and she walks him to the dining room.
Stacy stands and watches with me, the big, bad hockey player allowing this little girl to lead him around the house. It’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen. Stacy smiles at the scene too.
Grandma wraps an arm around me. “I can see how much he means to you.”
“He’s definitely important,” I agree, resting my head on the top of hers.
“He seems like a good kid, kind of quiet and kind of intense, but it’s clear he’s been through something though.” She gently touches my cheek. “I’m glad he has you, sweetheart.”
She pats my stomach and follows everyone into the dining room.
