To Be Where You Are, page 1
To Be Where You Are
sequel to InDescent
KZ Snow
Published 2009
ISBN 978-1-59578-632-6
Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509 Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana 46235. Copyright © 2009, KZ Snow. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.
Manufactured in the United States of America
Liquid Silver Books
http://LSbooks.com
Email:
raven@LSbooks.com
Editor
Devin Govaere
Cover Artist
Amanda Kelsey
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.
Blurb
After seven months of an affair they can only pursue on occasional weekends, Jackson Spey and Adin Swift are more in love than ever. More frustrated, too. Their periods of separation are becoming intolerable. Adin can’t help but feel responsible…just as he can’t help worrying Jackson’s patience is wearing thin.
Celia, Adin’s live-in girlfriend, has been aware of the men’s relationship from the start. She also knows Adin’s sense of honor will not allow him to walk out on her. Neither stupid nor insensitive, Celia realizes most triangles have a breaking point, and this one has reached that stage.
Just as she’s on the verge of arranging a meeting with Jackson, the wizard is summoned to do a strange favor for a fellow practitioner of magic. Noah Curry’s beloved partner, Perez Pei, has disappeared. Despondent and desperate, Noah uses a unique kind of influence to enlist Jackson’s aid.
As the lovers wonder what Celia’s intentions are and as Adin considers taking drastic measures, the hunt for Perez Pei begins. From his Milwaukee flat to an Illinois farmhouse to a shack in rural Mississippi, Jackson must confront forces, beings, and aspects of his freed sexuality he’s never before had to face.
He doesn’t know if it’s extortion or compassion that drives him to help Noah find Perez. He only knows he can’t give up. If he does, Adin could be lost to him forever.
Chapter One
Adin crawled out of bed, temporarily leaving the woman he could soon be permanently leaving. He slipped on a bathrobe, although there was no need to, and padded downstairs. Funny, he thought, how modest he’d become in his own secluded home. When he was at Jackson’s flat, in the middle of a large city, he seemed to spend much of his time either nude or seminude. It felt natural there.
He stood at the living room’s largest window and stared at the glowing rind of the moon. The night’s first star, whatever it had been, was lost now among a multitude of stars. He couldn’t make a wish. But he could still hope.
Caging the white crescent with his fingers, he mouthed his lover’s name. The moon meant something to Jackson. He was a wizard and a witch. What was he doing now? Sleeping, probably. It was a Thursday night, and he’d given up partying a long time ago.
“Adin.”
Flinching at the unexpected sound, he quickly turned. It was a preemptive move, he realized. He didn’t want Celia gliding up behind him and wrapping her arms around his waist, flattening her cheek against his back. She did that often. It was probably time she stopped.
All she did was stand beside him and gaze for a moment at the same shrouded curve of driveway, the same expanse of midnight sky. Her left shoulder remained an inch or two from his right arm. She didn’t touch him.
“I guess I don’t need to ask what you’re thinking about,” she said.
Adin refused to be coy. “I guess you don’t.”
Their voices were muted, as if they were in a confessional. In a way they were. Out of the corner of his eye, Adin saw Celia lower her head.
“You must miss him the minute you walk out his door,” she murmured.
Adin hesitated. He didn’t want to hurt her. But Celia wouldn’t have made the assumption if she didn’t already know the truth. So he answered, “Yes, I do.”
“And it just gets worse.”
“Yes.”
“I can tell.” Celia looked at him. “I’m sorry.”
She sounded so penitent, Adin put an arm around her shoulders. “Don’t apologize. It isn’t your fault. We agreed to this arrangement. I didn’t know last November—” He stopped. What exactly didn’t he know then but did know now?
That it wasn’t just desire he felt for Jackson Spey. That he wasn’t just a bisexual man who had a craving for dick once in a while and the rest of the time was content to live with his lady. Adin no longer found contentment here. It had become a place to bide his time until he could be with Jackson again.
“You didn’t know,” Celia said, “how things would change.”
“I had no idea.”
It was true. Last November, Adin considered this his home and Celia his partner. He had no reason to believe otherwise. Their lives glowed with a tranquility Adin had never known before, and he was grateful. But he’d been so alienated from his human needs for so long, he had no reference point for his feelings. His perspective was skewed. Appetite and passion, affection and abiding love, satisfaction and soul-deep serenity—the elements in these pairs were not identical. No more than the criteria for a good friend were the same as the criteria for an adored lover. No more than thinking of yourself as breezily bisexual would make it so.
He’d begun seeing the differences after his first weekend with Jackson. Now, those differences were blinding in their clarity, and they could not be ignored.
Celia turned to face Adin. His arm slid from her shoulders. She’d likely intended that—a disengagement as symbolic as it was physical. “I didn’t know, either. I thought you loved us equally but wanted us differently.”
“I thought so, too.” He looked at her for a moment. “I truly did, Ce. I never meant to mislead you. What I told you at the time, I believed to be true.”
Adin had assumed she was The One. He’d convinced himself he was meant to be with her. What he’d failed to realize then was that sometimes people appeared in our lives when we needed them most, that they had critical or even decisive roles to play in particular situations. But that didn’t mean their places were permanent or their roles had ongoing importance. Fate often lent us temporary helpmates.
Adin knew, now, that Celia had been one of those. He would always cherish her for what she’d done for him. But she wasn’t The One.
As if probing his thoughts, Celia stared up at him. Her eyes glimmered, their color indeterminate in the darkness. “Tell me how you feel,” she said evenly. “Tell me what you need. And don’t mince words. Just make sure you mean every word.”
Adin had been honest with her all along but not brutally frank. Now, too much was at stake to be delicate. “I’m in love with him. I need to be with him. More than I’ve ever loved or needed to be with anybody. He’s part of me now. Maybe he’s always been.”
Celia nodded. She already knew. She’d probably known all along. “It’s time I went to see him. I can’t keep putting it off. This is crazy.”
“Do you have a day in mind?” Adin asked, trying not to sound too eager. “I should tell him you’re coming. He already knows you’d like to talk to him, but it’s been up in the air for a while.” Adin didn’t want to rush her, or even seem to be rushing her, but the situation had to be resolved. Everybody was in pain. Oddly enough, the toughest one of them all was hurting the most. And that was Jackson. Adin couldn’t stand it.
“I’ll need to finish up my article tomorrow,” Celia said. “I could head down there Saturday morning.”
“Okay.”
Uncertainly, Celia continued to stand beside him, fingering the sash of her robe. “I still love you, Adin.”
He swallowed, nodded. “I know. I love you too.”
“But it isn’t the same kind of love.”
“No, it isn’t.”
She took a deep breath and let it out. The exhalation quavered. “Well, I’m not the first. And I won’t be the last.”
Adin’s brows drew together. “First and last what?”
“Woman who’s had to deal with this. Finding out her partner is gay.”
The last word gave Adin a little jolt. He’d never given his sexuality much thought. Like Jackson, although more comfortably so, he’d always assumed he was bi. But he should’ve known better. He’d always leaned too far in one direction to be genuinely impartial.
All he could say was, “That’s true. I can’t change it, you know.”
“Of course I know,” Celia said curtly, as if she felt patronized. Or maybe flustered by the finality I can’t change it implied.
Adin could tell she was just as stressed and exhausted by this domestic charade as he was. Any pretense that went on too long was draining.
Celia curled a hand over her forehead. “I won’t be offended if you sleep in the guestroom. It’ll be easier on both of us. Good night.”
Before Adin could answer, she was walking toward the stairs, her thin robe fluttering around her slender form. She’d stopped buying and wearing lingerie some months ago. Yes, she’d known for a while.
* * * *
“Sounds like I woke you.” Propped against the pillows of the guestroom’s bed, Adin s relief keened toward excitement as soon as he heard his favorite voice in the world—a sandy baritone that seemed to enfold him.
“That’s all right,” Jackson said groggily. “You can wake me anytime.” Unfailingly, as soon as he realized it was Adin on the phone, his tone became as sweet and warm as mulled cider. “Is something wrong? You don’t sound drunk.”
“So those are the only good reasons for calling you late? Either because something’s wrong or I’m tipsy?”
“The word is shitfaced.” Jackson tried to stifle a yawn then gave up and indulged in it. “People who get on late-night calling jags don’t get ‘tipsy’. Trust me, I’ve been there.” His voice got lower, sexier. “And no, those aren’t the only good reasons. Any reason is a good reason.”
Smiling, Adin pressed the phone against his face, as if he could bring Jackson closer to him. “Why don’t you ever call me when you’re shitfaced? Do you talk really dirty then?”
“I don’t get shitfaced anymore. You know that. And I have no idea how I talked, because I couldn’t remember the next day. Maybe I got maudlin. Most people do. That’s another reason not to make drunk-calls.”
“Actually, I think I’d like it,” Adin said. “The dirty and the maudlin. I think I’d like it a lot. If you meant everything you said.”
“With you, yeah, I’d mean it.”
Adin’s hips squirmed slightly. He was tempted to start fondling his cock. “Let’s get off this subject. You’re making me horny.”
“Are you sitting at the computer?” Jackson’s implication was obvious.
Adin tried not to be distracted by it. “No, I’m in the guestroom, lying on the bed. I have to tell you why I called before my mind hazes over.”
“Okay. Then you might have to make me come. Maybe you should start now.”
Adin’s squirminess spread. “Wait, Jackson, just let me—”
“I’ll let you. If you fire up your computer so we can get visually connected. I’m on my way to mine.” Muffled sounds of movement came through the phone. “Damn, Adin, I need—” The rest of the statement broke and faded.
Adin was happy to fill in the blank. “Then you should be happy to hear why I called.” Leaving the guestroom, he ambled into the study. He shucked off his robe before he sat at the desk, leaving him clad in nothing more than a pair of green and blue briefs that had grown mighty snug. “Celia’s coming to see you on Saturday.”
“Oh, shit. Saturday?”
“Yeah, day after tomorrow. Or tomorrow, if it’s Friday now.” Jackson’s response was like a downpour of cold water. “Do you have plans?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. Remember that group I told you about, the good-old-boys’ club for Adepts?”
As soon as Jackson’s face appeared on the monitor, a host of feelings washed through Adin—love, lust, and a longing that seemed every bit as dimensional as the room’s furnishings. “Yeah, I remember. Some kind of occult society with a Latin-root name.”
“The Phratry,” Jackson said with a lazy, lecherous smile. His eyelids lowered. They always lowered when he was feeling seductive. “Anyway, the guy who founded it wants to see me about something. I promised I’d go down there on Saturday.”
“And you can’t put it off?” Adin’s gaze moved over Jackson’s face and chest and down to his groin. He was naked, sitting back with his legs spread.
“Noah Curry doesn’t ask to see people for the hell of it, so something’s up. Besides, we’re all sort of honor-bound to make ourselves available to any summons.”
“Summons,” Adin repeated. His snotty tone made him ashamed. He knew he shouldn’t feel resentful. Jackson did have a life, after all.
“A special request for a meeting.”
“How about if Celia met with you on Sunday, then?”
“I might still be gone. I’ll have to let you know.” Jackson grimaced and muttered, “Fuck.” He shifted forward, his face moving closer to the webcam. “Please, please tell Celia this couldn’t be helped. Ask her if she’s free next week. Any day. I’ll make sure I’m available. God, Adin, I’m sorry.”
“So am I.” His disappointment was more crushing than it should have been—the delay would only be a brief one—but it seemed he’d been waiting forever.
“Your hair’s mussed,” Jackson said quietly, his voice gruffer.
“That’s because I’ve been in bed.”
“Do you realize you look hot as hell? You look like you’ve just been fucked. Hard.”
The observation punched the air right out of Adin’s lungs. His dick swelled, pushing against the fabric of his briefs. He stared at Jackson’s heavy eyelids and parted lips and broad, hair-streaked chest, remembering the times when he had been fucked hard—by this very man.
Jackson rolled back from his desk. His gorgeous cock was already standing out from its broad, black delta of pubic hair. Cradling it in one hand, he slowly rimmed the head with his forefinger then made a light pass over the tip. His finger glistened faintly with moisture. He lifted it to his mouth and swiped it over his tongue, and his cock gave a responsive twitch.
“Oh man,” Adin breathed out. His desire edging toward an ache, he freed his own erection.
“I want to come on your lips,” Jackson said thickly. “Got the sub nearby?”
The substitute. That’s what they called an amazingly lifelike dildo Adin had bought because of its resemblance to Jackson’s erect cock. Leaning to the right, Adin opened the lowest desk drawer and pulled a long, narrow box from beneath a sheaf of papers. He and Celia never rifled through each other’s desk, so she’d never seen it. He put the box on the desk, opened it, and lifted the sub out of its velvet bedding.
“I could shoot just looking at you,” Jackson murmured.
Numbly, Adin nodded. He felt the same. He wished he could thrust himself through the monitor and give his lover a long, wet kiss, tongue sliding against tongue. He wished he could rub his face against that soft, dark fan of chest hair and solid wall of muscle until he raised Jackson’s intoxicating scent, a perfume so rich it made his senses reel. He wished he could pluck at those taut nipples, feel their tension on and between his lips.
Stroking his dick with one hand, Adin held the sub in the other. He opened his mouth and danced his tongue around the head. Jackson languidly rubbed himself in front of the camera. His cock was full and hard, its color a pastel purplish rose.
“You want to feel my cum on your mouth?” he asked hoarsely. “You want to feel it hitting your skin, dripping over your lips?”
“Yes.” Adin barely had the breath to answer.
“Cushion the head.”
Mouth slightly open, Adin rested the false cock’s glans on his lower lip. The fullness in his groin increased as he watched Jackson, knowing he fed his lover’s passion. His muscles were strung so tight he began to perspire. A droplet of precum stole out of his dick. Delicately, almost unconsciously, he flexed his lips against the sub’s resilient head, making raunchy, sweet love to it. No, not it. For a disjointed moment, fantasy merged with reality, and he could feel Jackson’s smooth, hot flesh against the tissues of his mouth.
“I’m there,” Jackson murmured.
A muted grunt punctuated the words. Cum spurted rhythmically out of Jackson’s cock in short arcs, the white threads frosting his fingers. The sight triggered Adin’s orgasm. Its pulse set off little spasms in his abdominal muscles. He glanced down at himself and, briefly, ejaculated harder, one creamy jet smacking the edge of his desk. At least it didn’t get on the keyboard, he thought, and smiled weakly.
Breath still pumping, he and Jackson met each other’s befogged gaze. They simultaneously lifted their hands to their mouths and licked off the sticky coating. It wasn’t as gratifying as sharing their essence through a kiss, but it was still one of many small, meaningful rituals that reaffirmed their bond while they were apart.
“I’m ready to drop,” Jackson said with a tired smile. He always crapped out after sex, even webcam or phone sex. “Wish I could fall asleep holding you.”
“I do too.” Adin touched two fingers to his lips then held them to Jackson’s image on the screen. “Hey, are we still married?”
Jackson smiled. “I haven’t divorced you, have I?”
“How would that work, anyway?”
“Divorcing each other?” Jackson rolled closer to the camera. “It wouldn’t work.”
