Lover at Last (Black Dagger Brotherhood #11)(73)
Author: J.R. Ward

Naturally, Qhuinn had been with her.

John Matthew had not.

So whatever had gone down apparently trumped the ahstrux nohtrum thing, and that meant…she had to be losing the young. Only something that serious would get a pass.

As he continued to bump-on-a-log it, with nothing but worry to keep him company, naturally his mind decided to make things worse: Shit, had he really slept with Qhuinn last night?

Taking a hard drag off his Dunhill, he exhaled a curse.

Had it really happened?

God, that question had been banging around his skull from the moment he’d woken up out of a hot-as-hell dream, with an erection that seemed to think the other male was sleeping next to him.

Replaying the scenes, for the hundredth time, all he could think was…talk about a plan misfiring. After he’d turned Qhuinn down when the guy had been on his knees, he’d gone back to his room and paced around, a debate he wasn’t interested in having with himself turning his brain to foie gras.

But he’d made the right decision in leaving. Really. He had.

The problem was, it hadn’t stuck. As the daylight hours had worn on, all he’d thought about was the time he’d gotten caught by his father stealing a pack of cigarettes from one of the family’s doggen. He’d been a young pretrans, and as a punishment, his dad had made him sit outside and smoke every one of those unfiltered Camels. He’d been horribly sick, and it had been a year or two before he’d been able to stomach even secondhand smoke.

So that had been the new plan.

He’d wanted Qhuinn so badly for so long, but it had all been a hypothetical, parceled out in fantasies in ways he could handle. Not all at once, not the full-bore, overload, wrecking-ball stuff – and he’d known damn well that in real life, Qhuinn wasn’t going to hold back or be easy. The "plan" had been to have the actual experience, and learn that it was just rough sex. Or hell, find out that it wasn’t even good sex.

You weren’t supposed to smoke all the cigarettes in the pack…and only want more.

Jesus Christ almighty, it had been the first time reality had been better than a fantasy, the absolute best erotic experience of his life.

Afterward, however, the kindness that Qhuinn had shown had been unbearable.

In fact, as Blay recalled that tenderness, he burst up from where he’d been sitting and marched around the apple tree – as if he had somewhere to go.

At that moment doors opened. Not the vestibule ones, however.

The library.

As he glanced over his shoulder, Saxton stepped out from the room. He looked like hell, and not just because, as fast a healer as the male was, he still had some residual jaw swelling thanks to Qhuinn’s attack.

Good one, Blay thought. Way to express disappointment in someone’s behavior: Let them f**k the shit out of you after they tried to strangle your ex.

Soooo classy.

"How are you?" Blay asked, and not in a social way.

It was a relief as Saxton came over. Looked him in the eye. Smiled a little like he was determined to make an effort.

"I’m exhausted. I’m hungry. I’m restless."

"Would you like to eat with me?" Blay blurted. "I’m feeling exactly that way, too, and the only thing I can do anything about is the need for food."

Saxton nodded and put his hands in the pockets of his slacks. "That is a stellar idea."

The pair of them ended up in the kitchen at the battered oak table, sitting side by side, facing out into the room. With a happy smile, Fritz immediately flipped into provide-sustenance mode and what do you know. Ten minutes later, the butler provided each of them with a bowl of steaming beef stew, as well as a crusty baguette to share, a bottle of red wine, and a stick of sweet butter on a little plate.

"I shall be back, my lords," the butler said on a bow. And then he proceeded to shoo everyone else out of the place, from the doggen who were prepping vegetables to the ones who were polishing silver to the window cleaners in the alcove beyond.

As the flap door shut behind the last of the staff, Saxton said, "All we need is a candle and this would be a date." The male leaned forward and ate with perfect manners. "Well, I suppose we would need a few other things, wouldn’t we."

Blay glanced over as he put his cigarette out. Even with bags under those eyes and that mostly faded bruise on his neck, the attorney was something to look at.

Why the hell couldn’t he –

"Do not say you’re sorry again." Saxton wiped his mouth and smiled. "It really isn’t necessary or appropriate."

Sitting beside the guy, it seemed just as unlikely that they had broken up as it was that he had been with Qhuinn. Had any of the last couple of nights happened?

Well, duh. What had gone down with Qhuinn wouldn’t have if he and Sax were still together. That he was very clear on – it was one thing to jerk off in secret, and that was bad enough. The full bifta? NFW.

Shit, in spite of the fact that he and Saxton had split up, he still felt like he should confess the transgression…although if Qhuinn was right, Saxton had already moved on in one sense of the word.

As they ate in silence, Blay shook his head, even though he hadn’t been asked a question and there was no conversation. He just didn’t know what else to do. Sometimes the changes in life came at you so fast, and with such fury, there was no way to keep up with reality. It took time for things to sink in, the new equilibrium establishing itself only after some period of your brain sloshing back and forth against the walls of your head.

He was still in the slosh zone.

"Have you ever felt as though hours were more properly measured in years?" Saxton said.

"Or maybe decades. Yes. Absolutely." Blay glanced over again. "I was actually just thinking that very same thing."

"Such a morbid pair we are."

"Maybe we should wear black."

"Armbands?" Saxton prompted.

"Whole deal, head to toe."

"Whatever shall I do with my flare for color?" Saxton flicked at his orange Hermes kerchief. "Then again, one can accessorize anything."

"Certainly explains the theory behind dental grilles."

"Pink plastic flamingos."

"The Hello Kitty franchise."

All at once, they both burst into laughter. It wasn’t even that funny, but the humor wasn’t the point. Breaking the ice was. Getting back to a new kind of normal was. Learning to relate in a different way was.

As things settled into chuckles, Blay put his arm around the male’s shoulders and gave him a quick hug. And it was nice that Saxton leaned in for a brief moment, accepting what was offered. It wasn’t that Blay thought that just because they’d sat down together, shared a meal, and had a laugh, all of a sudden everything was going to be smooth sailing. Not at all. It was awkward to think Saxton had been with someone else, and utterly incredible to know he’d done the same – especially given who it had been.