Bad Habit, page 18
The strip they’d taken off his thigh was a perfect rectangle of dark pink. Yeah, if Liam hadn’t explained what it was from, Scott would have thought it was weird. No one had scars in such perfect lines. The boxer briefs and jeans hit the floor, and Scott stared.
He’d seen it that first day, when they sat on the picnic table at the car show, seen the metal rod into his sneaker and the robot-like calf and knee joint. But this was different. Scott hoped to hell Liam hadn’t been bullshitting about needing Scott not to care about his leg.
Because even though it looked like it still hurt like a bitch and Scott had no idea how the fuck it worked, it didn’t make any difference. Liam had always meant more than just his body. Been more. Scott didn’t care what pieces were missing any more than he knew what the color of Liam’s eyes was called because what had mattered had always been the way Liam looked at him. The way they were together was so much better than just Scott on his miserable own.
He stared at the leg and the scar and the place on Liam’s arm where the skin patch had gone. Stared good and hard, then nodded.
“So, that thing come with turbo-fuck mode?”
“Nah.” Liam’s grin told Scott he’d gotten it exactly right.
After sitting on the bed and kicking away his jeans, Liam added, “I’ve just had to get creative sometimes.”
“Show me what you’ve got, then.” Scott stretched out next to him.
Liam rolled on top of him, solid weight and welcome heat making the tightness burning Scott’s jaw and chest ease. His dick was happy about it too. Especially when Liam lined his up so they were rubbing together. Satiny skin dragged against Scott’s own, hot and stiff.
If cracking open his ribs meant he could get Liam closer, Scott would have done it in a heartbeat. He tilted his hips and wrapped his legs around Liam’s ass.
“Fuck, that feels good,” Liam breathed against Scott’s mouth. “Always so fucking good with you.” Sex had never been the problem between them. Pretty far from it.
“Yeah.” Because like it or not, it was the truth.
Liam kissed him. Not rough or hard but intense. He might as well be already balls-deep in Scott from the way it felt. Like they weren’t in two separate bodies but reaching together for something in the same skin.
He rocked up, trying to get Liam’s dick inside where he needed it, needed the heat and the stretch. But Liam didn’t cooperate, the stubborn fuck.
Scott freed his mouth. “C’mon. Do it.”
Liam grabbed Scott’s thighs, pulling them farther apart, and that did the trick. Liam’s cock stroked the crack of Scott’s ass, the pressure on his hole making him wiggle down for more.
Scott squeezed his cheeks together, forcing a gasp out of Liam.
“Don’t do that. I’m trying not to fucking lose it here,” Liam grumbled.
“And I fucking want you to lose it. Get the fuck in me.”
What Liam meant with that eye roll, Scott didn’t care because Liam was finally shifting off and grabbing the lube. Scott could count on his thumbs the number of guys he’d let fuck him since Liam left, and both of them had been in that first shitty year of feeling… nothing. Just empty. Hell, he hadn’t been able to get a rage on.
What that had taught him was that sex couldn’t fill empty and that he was a tight-assed bastard when it was anyone but Liam. But Scott wanted it now. Right the fuck now and no dicking around with fingers either.
Liam slid one in, a quick, deep burn. Scott couldn’t keep the grunt from passing through his lips.
It wasn’t awesome, but it wasn’t Liam’s dick either. That’s when it got better fast.
When Liam stopped and went for more lube, Scott flipped onto his hands and knees.
“Uh….” Liam put a hand on Scott’s hip.
“What?” Scott looked back over his shoulder.
Liam’s hair was just getting long enough to do that wave at his forehead. Glaring down, he stuck out his stubborn-as-fuck jaw, looking like he had as a teenager.
Scott waited.
“So, I can’t exactly kneel and get much push.”
It surprised the truth out of Scott. “I honest-to-God forgot about your leg right now.”
“Wish I could.” But there was a quick smile behind Liam’s words. “Roll back over.” He stood next to the bed.
As soon as Scott’s back hit the mattress, Liam grabbed Scott’s hips and hauled him to the edge. His legs dropped open around Liam’s as he leaned in.
“I’m still gonna make you forget everything but my name.” Liam dragged his stubble across Scott’s.
It should have been corny, or at least said like a tease, but somehow Liam managed to back that up with his stare. Instead of rolling his eyes, Scott swallowed. Christ. One fucking night as a rock star and Liam could already bring it.
Scott cleared his throat. “Lots of talk and no action.”
Liam arched his brows and opened a box of the Trojans.
Scott stared at the ceiling as resentment burned hot enough to threaten his hard-on. They’d never used condoms before. Never thought they’d ever need to. And though it mattered more sensation-wise for the one doing the fucking, it mattered a hell of a lot to Scott right then. He hated that now that they were together again, there’d still be something between them. A load in the ass could be a mess, yeah, but he’d always loved falling asleep with Liam still in him. Though the feeling had turned out to be a big fat lie, Liam shooting in him had made him feel like they were closer, that Scott was somehow safe.
The lube and the condom made the first touch at his hole cold. Liam pushed, and Scott tried to relax.
Liam pulled away. “Let me—”
“No.” Scott grabbed the arm pressing on his thigh. “C’mon.”
It was easier the second time. Still burned like a bitch, but it was good too.
“Jesus, you’re tight.” Liam’s eyes were shut, lips pinched like he was working out some chemistry equation.
Scott grunted, then managed, “Cut the sweet talk, Walsh. You’re already getting laid.”
Liam laughed, and it was definitely better. It was them again. Liam rocked a little, pushing deeper, and Scott’s body remembered how this worked, remembered how fucking amazing it felt. He arched toward Liam for more.
“Oh. Fuck.” Liam’s head dropped back and his hips pushed forward.
If Scott’s voice didn’t feel as sharp as glass in his throat, he’d have agreed. Then Liam held on tight and slammed them together, balls slapping up against Scott’s ass, and it was all Scott could do to remember how to breathe.
Liam’s fingers bit down to the bone as he panted. Scott managed to crack open his eyes.
Liam smiled down at him. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
“We good?”
“Fuck, yeah.”
Liam started moving, and Scott met every thrust until they were crashing into each other, the smack of flesh echoing in the empty room. Liam added the strength of his arms, forcing Scott onto his dick, as if he wanted to be someplace else.
He never wanted it to stop.
Liam fucking him was the only time Scott ever felt like he could just let go of everything he kept such a tight grip on. Anger, fear, and that bone-deep knowledge that no matter what he’d always end up alone. He could let that all go, because it was the only way to let himself be fucked. And it still scraped and stung more than a little because they—he’d—rushed it. But oh Christ, it felt so good.
Like some damned mind reader, Liam groaned. “So fucking good with you, Scott.”
Yeah, right. Like a hole wasn’t a hole. Scott knew better. But he also knew that the piece of silicone in his duffel bag stuffed under the cot back at Schim’s didn’t touch him like this. Maybe Scott could move it to hit all the right spots, but it still didn’t get to everything that ached for pressure the way Liam’s dick did.
“Harder. C’mon.” Scott arched his back. Because if Liam didn’t start going deep enough to get his dick in Scott’s throat, he might actually say some of that crap out loud.
Liam shifted his grip from Scott’s hips to his shoulders. When he leaned in for a kiss, he bent Scott’s knees up to his ears. The angle made a devastating rub inside and a white-out fuzz of pleasure behind Scott’s eyes.
Scott grabbed on to Liam’s back, kissing like he needed it to breathe because that was safer than words, safer than begging to let Liam know what he needed.
Liam lifted his head. “Sorry, can’t balance.”
Someone might as well have dumped ice water on him. Scott let go instantly. Here he was pissing and moaning about them using condoms, and Liam had to worry about managing on one leg.
Scott took a deep breath, then swallowed. “So, who do we gotta talk to about making those things more fuck-friendly?”
“I’ll put it on my to-do list.” Liam braced himself against Scott’s chest and straightened up.
Scott propped himself up enough to get a look at Liam’s stance. His right leg was out at an angle, thigh braced against the mattress edge.
“Jesus, don’t look like that. I didn’t say I was stopping.” Liam took hold of Scott’s hips again. He rocked a little.
Scott’s breath caught at the return of friction. A second ago he’d have sworn his dick was just going to pack it in, but now his pulse throbbed from base to tip, and by the time Liam started fucking him again, it had roared back to desperate need.
Liam shifted to short hard thrusts, using each one to drive in a word. “Just. Can’t. Kiss. Like. This.”
Then he rolled his hips, and that was fucking it.
“God.” The word burned Scott’s throat as it was torn out of him. Before he could tell Liam to do that again, he did. Over and over. Short hard thrusts and that fucking roll.
Scott got a hand on his dick, jacking himself fast as he rode the build to the top.
Liam pulled him into each thrust, grip tight enough to hurt, as if Scott was the one who kept trying to leave.
Need made him crazy. Stupid. Pathetic. “Don’t stop. Please, Liam, don’t you fucking stop.”
“Yeah. Not gonna,” Liam promised.
For that moment Scott could believe him. It was goddamned impossible to feel this good and still be alive.
He jacked himself faster, tighter on the head. Right there. Jesus.
“God, you feel so fucking good.” Liam’s sexy voice, the one that seduced everyone in that bar, panting for Scott.
It was more than his nuts could take.
“Oh fuck.” He came like his life depended on it, body jerking, the shocks so sweet they hurt. A spray across his chest, one to his neck from an even harder spasm, and then the last shudders all over his stomach.
He’d just managed to open his eyes when Liam started fucking him again, lips parting as he stuttered out a “Christ, Scott, fuck,” and then Scott got to watch him lose it, those smooth strokes lost in tight little slams of his hips.
So fucking hot. Liam dragged a shaky hand down through the jizz on Scott’s chest before easing out of him. “I gotta….” Liam waved at the bed and Scott shifted his hips over.
“Thanks.” Liam sat, then flopped back before rolling toward Scott.
“Fuck.” Liam kissed Scott’s neck where one of his shots had landed. “Mmm. That was fucking impressive.”
Scott swallowed.
“I can kiss you now.”
Scott turned his head to meet him. The bitter taste clinging to Liam’s lips reminded Scott of all the ways things had gone sour last time. Neither one of them had any reason to think things would be different this time.
His distraction must have come through in the kiss because Liam raised his head.
“What?” Liam studied Scott’s face, then sighed. “You always do that, you know.”
“I’d say what, but you’re gonna tell me anyway.”
“Jump to the worst conclusion, like everything’s all black-and-white.”
Considering Liam claimed he’d left six years ago because he thought Scott was turning into a speed junkie, saying that took some balls. But he wasn’t wrong.
“So what if I do? Lots of times I’m right and it is a fucking disaster.”
“And a lot of times it isn’t.” Liam shifted so that his head was on Scott’s chest. “Christ, I missed you so fucking much. You have no idea. I was so stupid.”
Scott lifted a hand, hesitated, and then rested it on Liam’s head. His hair was growing out fast, the untamable waves silky against Scott’s fingers.
Liam leaned into the touch like a cat. “You don’t have to believe me, but I’ve never stopped being in love with you.”
Scott wanted to jerk his hand back. He wanted to shove Liam away, to hurt him so he would stop saying lame shit that didn’t fucking matter because they couldn’t stay in this hotel room forever and all the bullshit out there would find a way to pull them apart again. But damn it. Couldn’t he just have this one night of lying to himself?
“You’re pissed. I can hear it in your heartbeat.” Liam rolled onto his back. He dropped a hand over his face. “I want this to work this time. It will. We just have to figure out what to do.”
Scott knew what he should say. You could tell me and everyone else the truth for once. Not what you want it to be, but how it really is. Then maybe it wouldn’t be so easy for it all to go to shit. But Liam was too damned stubborn to do anything he didn’t want to or to admit that everything wasn’t gonna be like he thought.
Scott rolled off the bed and hunted up his jeans. “You figure it out. I’m going outside to have a smoke.”
Chapter Twenty
IT HAD to be the first time in his life Scott appreciated all the damned smoking laws, since it gave him an excuse to retreat—escape—outside. August heat hit like a wall after the cool of the room’s AC. It was raining like it meant it now. Not a downpour, just steady solid wet. The roof hung over the strip of sidewalk in front of the motel rooms so he managed to get a cigarette lit, but run-off and bad drainage soaked his bare feet.
He leaned on the doorframe and blew his exhaust into the rain, then let his head fall back against the rough wood. Christ. He’d always been too dumb to know when to stop fighting. No different now. He was totally fucked whether Liam had his dick in him or not.
Right from that day when Liam goddamned Walsh had winked his nonswollen eye and asked if Scott wanted to fight or fuck like it was all the same to him, he’d been under Scott’s skin, good and bad. Liam was there in the jittery need when it had been too long without a cigarette. The curl of satisfaction under his ribs from the sound of a perfectly tuned engine. The dangerous thrill of opening up the Mustang on I-95 at 3:00 a.m., touching a hundred and hoping all the state troopers were asleep.
Covering that tattoo hadn’t fixed it. Scott should have known he couldn’t shake the bastard. Might as well stop trying and take what he could get.
And when the inevitable happened, when things got too real—things like having a boyfriend who was always scraping by because of his hair-trigger temper and control issues and whatever the fuck had made him unfosterable—Liam would chase off after something else.
It would hurt like hell, but this time he’d see it coming. Besides, if there was one thing Scott could handle, it was pain.
He clung to the two-by-four behind him, made himself stay and finish his cigarette before going back in to spill his guts. A deep hit helped relax his hunched shoulders, his clenched fingers. Yeah, he could do this. He tossed the butt into the wet and spit after it before ducking back into the room.
“Hey.” Liam was in the bed they hadn’t fucked in, curled on his side and facing the door. His leg stood next to the bed, and Scott’s eyes traced the shape under the blanket, picking out the sudden drop just past Liam’s hip.
“Hey.” Scott reached for the light switch, but then he spied a hunk of black on Liam’s pillow. After a second of alarm—gun? dried blood? tarantula?—he realized it was the distributor cap, half hidden by Liam’s grip on it.
Scott snorted a laugh. “What the hell?” He put it on the nightstand and flipped off the light.
“Not like I can chase you right now.” Liam’s voice was tired and cranky.
“I’m not going anywhere.” Scott sat on the other side of the bed and pulled off his jeans again before adding, “I never did.”
Liam looked over his shoulder. “Scott—”
“Don’t. Just… gimme a minute.”
Scott swung into the bed, pulled the covers up, then scooted across the mattress to snug himself behind Liam’s back. It wasn’t as weird as he’d thought it would be, feeling only part of Liam’s right leg against his own. After a minute it just felt like holding Liam.
Liam sighed and relaxed. Scott rubbed his face against the back of Liam’s neck, breathing as deep as he ever did when smoking to get a hit off Liam’s skin. To steel himself.
It would be easier like this. Without looking into Liam’s eyes. Scott locked an arm around Liam’s chest to keep him from turning over and kissed the top of his shoulder. Definitely bigger, broader than he’d been six years ago.
Nut up, McDermott. Now or never. He took a breath.
Liam tangled their fingers together and brought Scott’s hand to his mouth, kissing across the knuckles. Jesus, Scott had forgotten how sensitive Liam could make his hands feel. Liam settled Scott’s hand back over his chest and sighed again.
“I shouldn’t have said that. About leaving.” The words were about as easy to get over his tongue as it was to roll an engine block up a hill. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep apologizing for it.”
Liam squeezed his hand. “Okay. But—”
“Christ.” Scott butted his forehead against Liam’s shoulder. “Just shut up and let me say this.”
“Okay.” Liam’s chest moved sharply, though whether in a silent laugh or swallowed frustration, Scott couldn’t tell.
“I get why you’re always saying you’re sorry. You need people to like you and they do.”
Another squeeze from Liam’s hand.
“You even made me like you, and you know what an asshole I am. I hate everybody.”
