Reconsider Me Read online

  “I guess.”

  “Within an hour, he’d literally set fire to my whole life. He’d called my boss, my parents, my sister, my brother, my landlord—everyone. Crazy bastard went onto Facebook, into a couple of community-based groups there that he knew I had family and friends in because I was a member, too, and posted announcements about me in there.”

  “Oh, fuck!”

  “No, it gets better. Thankfully, I’d never exchanged any naked pics with him. But he sent copies of pics of his bruised ass to my parents, my brother and sister, my now ex-boss, my parents’ church, posted them on Facebook in the groups—I had no clue that in a month’s time, he’d stalked me and had found out pretty much everythin’ about me he could and was ready to go with that information.”

  Fen’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “Motherfucker,” he muttered.

  “Yeah.” Joel rested his head against the window. “Lookin’ back, I see all the warnin’ signs. I do. At the time, I was young and stupid and didn’t. But now you know why I’m very…private. And why I don’t jump into bed with people or rush things. Well, before you.”

  “Yeah. Sorry.”

  “Nothin’ for you to apologize for, sugar.” He’d rested his hand on Fen’s thigh and squeezed. “I was scared to get close to anyone for a while. A long time. I know a couple of times right after I left, he created fake Facebook accounts and tried to friend me. I’d have no clue who the names were, and you could tell the accounts had been recently created. I blocked them. About six months after I moved to Sarasota, that nonsense stopped. I didn’t even tell anyone where I was movin’ to, at first. I didn’t want them to accidentally reveal where I was.

  “I mean, yeah, he could have run a background check on me or somethin’ and picked up my voter registration, but I didn’t even register to vote for over a year after I moved. That’s how fuckin’ nervous I was. Especially once I found out that voter registration information is public record in Florida, names and addresses. I’d finally contacted one of the guys from the old munch via FetLife and asked him if he knew where Johnny was. He said the guy had left, no idea where, hadn’t heard anythin’ about him. That’s when I finally started to relax a little.”

  “Maybe my dad could look into it for you?”

  “Nah. I don’t want to invite trouble. Besides, that’s not legal for cops to do, to just check on someone. I know, because I talked to an attorney here in Florida, in case Johnny did track me down, and I asked him that very question. I still have Johnny’s social security number and stuff written down. I ever really want to track him, I’ll pay one of those background check places. He might even be back in jail, for all I know.”

  “Thank you for telling me all that,” Fen said. “I don’t ever want to break your trust in me.”

  Joel squeezed again. “I doubt you ever would, sugar.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  It was a little before six the next morning when they neared Loxley. Joel felt guilty that he’d napped for a while, but it was a comfort to sit there and listen to Fen singing along with Hamilton, Rent, West Side Story, and In the Heights.

  This guy is my life.

  Joel felt exhausted, but that one sentence gently pierced through everything in his brain and quieted his emotional pain and fear.

  He had wondered how he’d present Fen to everyone, not wanting to expose him to any more negativity than necessary, yet that one sentence said it all.

  There was only one way he could introduce Fen—as his.

  His guy.

  Not his husband—yet—but that was a conversation he needed to have with Fen. Soon. Hell, he was ready to move in with Fen.

  Formalizing it on paper was the next step.

  There wasn’t anyone else on earth he wanted to be with more than he wanted to be with Fen. Never had been.

  No one had ever made him feel like this.

  He directed Fen to a hotel on the north side of the Interstate. He wasn’t sure if his mom was going to want them to stay at her home, in addition to all the other stress. Plus, other family coming from out of state might need the space.

  Frankly, Joel wasn’t sure he could handle it. He’d need some time away from them periodically to process his emotions after so many years apart.

  He needed time alone with Fen.

  They needed a safe refuge.

  They ate breakfast at a nearby restaurant before they checked in, and Fen texted his mom that they’d arrived safely.

  Joel was relieved to see there weren’t many people around as they checked in. As much as he wanted to get over to his mom’s house as soon as possible, he knew it was way early and that Fen needed to rest for a while after driving all night.

  When Fen tried to protest that he was okay, he couldn’t even finish the sentence before a yawn escaped him.

  Joel led him over to the bed. “A nap, baby. We both need it. All right? It’s not even daylight yet. I’ll set my alarm.”

  Fen nodded.

  They stripped and climbed under the covers with the AC turned on high for both the noise and to chill the room down. Joel folded his body around Fen’s, spooning against him, peace surrounding him at the comforting smell of Fen’s shampoo in his lungs.

  His guy.

  His.

  Fen’s fingers laced through his, and like that, they fell asleep.

  * * * *

  Fen felt exhausted by the drive and knowing how Joel was mentally and emotionally wrung out by all of this. When Joel’s phone alarm went off at nine, Fen groaned, wanting more time curled against his Sir in a surprisingly comfortable bed, considering how cheap the room was and that it wasn’t the newest-looking hotel.

  Until it slammed into his brain why they were there.

  Then his eyes snapped open and he drew in a sharp breath.

  Joel was fumbling for the phone to turn off the alarm. Fen rolled over, to face Joel.

  Eyes red and puffy, deep lines in his face.

  Fen drew him in, holding him while Joel cried against his chest. He wished he could isolate him from the world, give him the time he needed to grieve and process.

  In all the time he was with Tom, this was something he’d never seen from the man. Not once.

  Vulnerability.

  His soul stripped bare and raw and metaphorically bleeding.

  Hemorrhaging.

  Fen first made Joel a cup of coffee from the tiny machine there in the room, followed by one for himself. Then he led Joel into the bathroom and grabbed his bottle of vanilla body scrub to use on both of them. He hoped it would be one small way to comfort Joel today, knowing they shared that, at least, nothing too overt to draw attention. He’d packed his green tea shampoo and conditioner, so at least that wouldn’t be too obvious, either.

  Joel braced his arms on the shower wall while Fen scrubbed his back. Then Joel made him turn around so he could scrub Fen’s back for him. Fen was going to turn around to take the washcloth from him when Joel’s arms closed around him, one hand circling Fen’s cock.

  Fen’s eyes dropped closed and he pressed his back against Joel.

  No way could he deny him.

  Never.

  Joel nuzzled the back of his neck. “Love you so much, baby,” he hoarsely said. “You have no idea how much.”

  Fen tipped his head back. “Show me, Sir.”

  Joel stroked Fen’s cock, his strong, callused hands feeling sooo fucking good. Despite how tired he felt, Fen’s ingrained response to his Sir’s touch was stronger.

  He rocked his hips against Joel’s hand, needing it now, when only a moment ago he hadn’t even been horny.

  Maybe it wasn’t exactly the most respectful thing in the world, to enjoy being jacked off when traveling for your guy’s father’s funeral, but wasn’t there something about grief sex being cathartic?

  He hoped.

  Otherwise, he was just an asshole.

  Joel’s other arm encircled him, pulling Fen’s back tightly against Joel’s body. “Come for me, baby.
”

  Fen braced his hands against the wall and pressed back a little, wanting even more contact with Joel’s body, the solid warmth of him.

  It didn’t take long for Joel to get him over, milking the cum from him, leaving him shaky and weak and trembling.

  Fen turned around. Before Joel could stop him, Fen sank to his knees and engulfed Joel’s cock in his mouth.

  * * * *

  Joel was barely sane at that moment. He didn’t know what had possessed him to do that to Fen right then, except it had felt right to do it.

  And now, with Fen’s hot, sweet mouth sucking on his meat, he could barely put together a coherent thought.

  He dropped the washcloth and grabbed Fen’s head, fucking his mouth hard, deep, Fen’s pleased moans vibrating through Joel’s balls and straight into his body. Fen grabbed hold of the backs of Joel’s thighs, holding on while Joel face-fucked him, until he quickly shot his load straight into Fen’s eagerly waiting mouth.

  They were both moaning then—Joel with pleasure, and Fen happy that he’d brought him over.

  Joel sank to his knees in front of him and kissed him. “How’d I get so fuckin’ lucky?” he hoarsely asked.

  Fen smiled. “I think I got the better end of the deal, but okay. I won’t argue with you.”

  After a few minutes, they climbed to their feet and finished their shower. Joel didn’t even mind he smelled like Fen.

  In fact, he loved it. If it had been deliberate on Fen’s part, even better. He’d been letting Fen buy all that kind of stuff for him since Fen hadn’t been fond of what he’d been using.

  For right now, he knew they needed to get dressed and go see his mom.

  “Do you think we’ll be okay here?” Fen nervously asked.

  “Jackson asked me to come. Said that Mom wanted me to come. And that Celia wants me here. Might be some unhappy people, but fuck ’em. We’re here for my family, not for anyone else.”

  Joel sipped his coffee while Fen quickly shaved, then styled his hair, and cleared the vanity so Joel could have it. While Joel was shaving, Fen laid his clothes out for him. It was only when Joel really processed what he was looking at that he realized Fen had packed totally different stuff than Joel had laid out on his bed at home.

  Better choices.

  Joel had grabbed shorts and T-shirts, not thinking and only wanting to get on the road.

  Fen had actually put him together so he looked like more than just a boat mechanic. And Fen, of course, looked like a fucking knockout in his dress slacks, dress shirt, and tie. Even when dressed casually, by his standards, Fen always looked like a knockout. Classy.

  No tie for Joel this morning, Fen had laid out khaki slacks and a short-sleeved button-up shirt for him, navy blue with an abstract geometric print on it in black. Subdued.

  Somber.

  The same shirt he’d worn to Venture the first night they’d met.

  At least he didn’t need a tie with it.

  He hadn’t been in much of a condition to tell Fen that in this community, jeans were acceptable in church or at a funeral, as long as they were your good jeans and you didn’t wear sneakers or flip-flops with them.

  Once Fen was ready and rejoined him, he stepped in front of Joel and tweaked the points on his collar, where they were buttoned-down. “We need to have you try your suit on when we get back later,” Fen said. “Just in case it’s too small and we need to buy you another one, or I need to take the trousers in or something. I brought a small sewing kit with me.”

  Joel stared at him, trying to process that. “How did I get so damn lucky to meet you?”

  Fen smiled up at him, those dark amber eyes of his soothing him, long lashes, sweet honesty.

  Vanilla-scented love, a guy who wanted nothing more than to be taken care of and to make him happy, and yet here Fen was, forced to duct-tape Joel’s soul together when Joel was supposed to be the one in control.

  “You picked yourself a slave with a subscription’s worth of issues. So I think you have that backward, Sir. I’m the lucky one.”

  Slave.

  That was the first time Fen had called himself that.

  And yet…

  It felt sooo fucking right. Better than right.

  It felt perfect.

  Just like everything else about the man felt perfect to Joel’s heart and soul and body.

  Joel grabbed him, hard, and pulled him in for a deep, crushing kiss. “Marry me,” he hoarsely said. “Please fuckin’ marry me. I need you.”

  Fen’s lips parted, then the tip of his tongue flicked out, licking his lips. “Are you asking me this because you want to, or because of a reaction to losing your dad?”

  “I don’t fuckin’ care. Does it matter?”

  “It matters to me, Sir.” Fen reached up, cupping Joel’s face in his hands. “Ask me again later, when we get home, after a couple of weeks. Once you have a chance to sort things out in your head and in your heart. You’re hurting right now and I don’t want you to feel pressured because you asked it and then you reconsider. Please?”

  Joel laid his hands over Fen’s. “But what would you say if you answered me now?” He had to know.

  Had to.

  “The same thing I hope I get to say a second time when or if you ask me again—yes.”

  * * * *

  Fen knew he had to hold himself together for Joel’s sake, but right now all he wanted to do was cry—happy, cathartic tears—and spend the day curled up in Joel’s arms in the hotel room. Before they headed out, Fen called Jake to let him know what was going on, and that he wasn’t sure when they’d get back. Finally, he texted his mom that they were heading to Joel’s parents’.

  Once in Fen’s car, Joel directed him south of the Interstate, toward his mom’s place. They passed through a small town and into more rural land, lots of strawberry fields and other pasture, some woodlands.

  “Just up ahead.” Joel pointed. “Slow as you go into that curve. The driveway’s on the south side, on our right.”

  His tone of voice caught Fen’s attention, and Fen actually pulled over onto the shoulder and shifted into park so he could look at him. “Are you going to be okay, Sir?”

  Joel didn’t look okay. His color seemed off, skin pale with florid patches high on his cheeks.

  “I have to be okay,” he said. “I think my blood pressure’s through the roof. My heart’s pounding right now. It’s stress. I’ll be okay. I just want to get this over with.”

  Fen reached over and took his hands. “How do you want me to play this, Sir?”

  “Huh?”

  “Am I a good friend who knew you were in no condition to drive? Or are we neighbors? Drinking buddies? Obviously, I’m not calling you Sir in front of them, and—”

  “You’re my fiancé,” Joel emphatically said, a little of the color returning to his face as he stared at Fen. “Period.”

  Fen’s throat went dry. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah. Fuck it, they know I’m gay, thanks to Johnny. I’m beyond the give-a-shit phase now. My job’s not in danger, because I’m my own boss. I don’t want to pretend you’re not the man I want to spend the rest of my life with. I’m not too proud to admit I need you and can’t get through this without you.”

  Fen reached up and stroked his cheek. “I promise I’ll tone back the PDAs.”

  “Why?”

  Fen blinked. “Seriously?”

  “What part of ‘don’t give a shit what they think’ didn’t I make clear?”

  He knew Joel was hurting and not thinking clearly. Fen didn’t want to cause him or his family additional grief.

  I’ll have to handle this my way, regardless of what he thinks.

  “Okay, Sir. We’ll do it your way.”

  Fen checked for traffic before pulling back onto the two-lane road. A moment later, they were slowly rolling up a rutted dirt driveway, heading toward a house sitting under the shade of several large oak trees, older trees that looked like they’d received vicious pruni
ngs in the not-too-distant past, from the color where the wood was cut.

  “Wow,” Joel said. “They must have lost a lot of trees when a storm went through in the past couple of years. The roof’s new, too.”

  The house was surrounded by several fields that were growing strawberries and something else Fen wasn’t sure about. Three other vehicles, two pick-ups and an older car, sat parked in front of the house. Joel directed him to park there, next to them.

  Fen made sure he had his cell phone on him when they got out. Logic told him nothing would happen, but as his father had drilled into him, be prepared.

  As they walked toward the front porch, Fen hoped he wasn’t escorting Joel into an emotional buzzsaw.

  Chapter Seventeen

  In the past, Joel wouldn’t have thought twice about simply opening the door and walking in without knocking, calling out to his family as he did. If they were home, the door wasn’t locked.

  This morning, he knocked. Instinctively, he blindly reached out next to him and Fen’s hand closed around his, gently squeezing.

  Joel wouldn’t let go.

  He heard someone approaching, and it was his brother, Jackson, who answered. He was the youngest of the three of them, twenty-nine, and looked like a younger version of himself.

  Jackson didn’t say anything. He opened his arms and hugged him, hard, burying his face against Joel’s shoulder as Joel did the same to him.

  They stood there like that for minutes, Joel trying to process he was actually there and able to hug his brother again.

  “Love you, Jack,” he hoarsely said.

  “Love you, too, bro.” Jackson drew in a deep, ragged breath and finally stepped back, rubbing at his eyes. The same shade as Joel’s, they were puffy and rimmed with red, bloodshot.

  “Um, Jack, this is my fiancé, Fenton White.”

  Fen gave him a subdued smile, and Joel could tell from the handshake Fen hadn’t held back. “Please, call me Fen. I’m so sorry we had to meet under these conditions.”

  “Yeah, likewise. Celia’s in with Mom. They just woke up a little bit ago.” He led them into a house that was like stepping into a time capsule. Except for the TV in the living room being a new flat-screen—and sitting on top of the old, huge console TV they’d had—not a damn thing had changed.