Brick and Mortar (Student Bodies #4) (9 page)

Half an hour later, Cannon walked through the front door of Ryder and Brock’s house. His stomach felt like it was tied in knots. Facing Turner was the last thing he wanted to do, but Brock insisted Ryder bring him here instead of back to his dorm room.

“There’s our boy.” Brock pulled Cannon in for a hug.

“Hello, sir.” Cannon held him tighter. He was trying hard to keep his eyes off Turner, knowing what little composure he managed to find would crumble if he looked into Turner’s dark eyes.

“First things first, how do your face and hands feel?” Brock moved his doctor’s hands over Cannon’s face, turning it to the sides to look at his ears before picking up his hands to inspect them.

“I’m fine, Doctor Stone, your husband took good care of me.” Ryder and the other boys had pampered him while he told them what had happened last night leading into the fight.

“First thing tomorrow morning, I want you to go to the store and buy a warm hat and gloves. If you need money, it’s yours, understood?” Brock cupped the young man’s face.

Cannon blushed and tried to pull away from Brock. The one thing he felt he still had after today was his pride. He was low on cash, with the new semester only being a month old. His textbooks had cost more than he anticipated. The volume numbers of two of his architectural texts had changed meaning he had to buy new books rather than used ones.  He supposed he could buy the store brand macaroni and cheese and spend the rest of his savings on a hat and gloves. “Okay, sir.”

“Good boy.” Brock patted his cheek. “Go sit next to your Dom on the couch.”

“Sir, I really don’t want-”

“SIT!” Brock commanded, sounding every bit the Master he was.

Cannon obeyed, but sat as far away from Turner as he could. He kept his eyes on Ryder who was standing in the entryway to the living room, his right shoulder propped against the doorframe.

“Don’t either of you have anything to say to each other?” Brock crossed his arms over his broad chest and looked back and forth between Cannon and Turner.

Cannon was swiping angrily at the tears he knew would eventually fall. He’d thought his anger would boil over when he saw Turner again, but it had only taken one glance at his lover to see the pain he was in. His eyes were red-rimmed and he could see his hands shaking. He wanted to reach out and touch him, to tell Turner he was here for him, but knew that wasn’t what Turner wanted from him. One hurried glance at Turner showed his shoulders were slumped in what looked to Cannon like defeat and his head was down, his eyes on the hardwood floor.

“Oh good, we’re doing this the hard way. My favorite.” Brock grinned, his eyes twinkling with delight. He pointed to Cannon. “You are a dumbass.”

Cannon gasped in response. After all he’d been through today this wasn’t what he anticipated from Brock.

“The next time something like this happens, stand up for yourself and fight for your man. And failing that, if you feel you have no other choice but to leave, call for a ride if the temperature is below freezing, for fuck’s sake.” Shifting his focus to Turner, Brock pointed again. “You are also a dumbass,
sir
.” Brock sneered the last word.

“What? You’re supposed to be on my side!” Turner said heatedly.

“Oh, should I? So, I should be on your side because you turned
your
submissive out into the cold? Or should I be on your side because you
lied
to you submissive about how your relationship with Bryce ended?”

“Bryce left me,” Turner said stubbornly.

“Bryce died! He didn’t leave you.” Brock took a deep, calming breath. “Is that how you’ve felt for two years now, Turner?”

Staring in shock at Brock, Cannon wasn’t sure he’d heard him correctly, but the devastated look on Turner’s face told him he had. Scooting a bit closer to Turner, Cannon looked at Brock. “What happened?” His voice was barely above a whisper. Bryce was dead?

“He had an undiagnosed brain aneurysm which ruptured suddenly, causing a massive stroke. Bryce was most likely dead before he hit the floor.” Brock rubbed the heel of his hand against his heart.

Cannon reached blindly across the couch for Turner’s hand. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea. I-I just thought he was some jerk who left you and broke your heart on purpose.” Cannon’s head was spinning. The only thought in his mind was to reach out and comfort his lover. It was time for Turner to stop living with the pain alone.

“How could you know, boy?” Brock said gently. “Turner was the one who found him on the floor of the kitchen one week before their Valentine’s Day wedding.”

Turner ducked his head, looking away from Brock and Cannon. Tears fell from his eyes, landing to soak into his jeans.

“That’s why you were drinking at the wedding and having such an awful time. Oh, Turner.” Cannon started to reach out to pull Turner into his arms but stopped half-way not knowing how he would react to being touched.

“Did you see what just happened, Turner? Your boy reached out to comfort you and stopped because he was afraid you wouldn’t want his touch. Remember what I said about you both being dumbasses?”

Turner looked up at Cannon who was also crying. Brock was right. He had lied to Cannon about how his relationship with Bryce ended. He turned back to Brock. “It did feel like he left me. I-I can’t go through that again.” He’d barely left the house after Bryce’s funeral and took a leave of absence for the rest of the semester. If it wasn’t for his friends bringing over meals and doing chores around the house he didn’t know how he would have survived.

“What happened to Bryce was awful, Turner. It was a tragedy. You didn’t die that day, but you’ve spent the last two years acting like you did. Cannon is here and it’s obvious he loves you. Take your boy home and work this out. Give yourself permission to start living again.”

“What if he leaves me too?” He’d heard Cannon vow his love during their fight. Over the course of the day he realized he loved his brat right back. He loved Cannon so much more than he’d loved Bryce and he’d barely survived losing him. Losing Cannon would kill him for sure. Having Cannon in his life wasn’t worth the risk.

“The only way you’ll lose him is if you keep pushing him away. Go home, Turner. Cuddle your boy and your dog, who’s probably out of her mind with worry over both of you.”

Turner stood and offered a hand out to Cannon who took it.

Ryder, who had been standing in the doorway watching Brock hold court, moved forward to hug Cannon. “Listen to Brock, okay?” Cannon nodded against his shoulder. “I’m coming down to the shelter next Saturday to see that white greyhound you keep telling me about. What’s her name again?”

Cannon snorted. “Her name is Zippy, but I’ve been calling her Belle, like the Disney Princess.”

“That’s all I need is another Princess.” Brock smiled at his husband.

Turner had no doubt Belle had just found her forever family.

The car ride back to Turner’s house was silent. Cannon spent the time trying to pull his scattered thoughts back together. His heart was broken for Turner. Not only for losing Bryce but also for the fact that Bryce had deceived him. Turner’s demand that he be honest with him about being submissive made sense now. He didn’t want to end up in another relationship like the one with Bryce. 

He supposed the biggest obstacle in going home to work things out was what each of them wanted out of the relationship. Cannon wanted Turner forever, while it seemed like Turner only wanted him for now.  Knowing he wasn’t a “for now” kind of man was twisting his stomach in knots.

“Stay.” Turner broke the silence when he parked the car in his driveway. He got out of the car and walked around to Cannon’s side, opening the door and holding out his hand.

Cannon took it and let Turner help him out of the car. The icy February wind hurt his face and he ducked into the collar of his jacket.

“You need a heavier coat, gloves, a hat and boots.” Turner twisted the key in the lock.

“Yes, sir.” Cannon would be able to afford all of those things by June of next year if he saved hard.

Daisy barked happily when Turner ushered Cannon into the house. She sat prettily and offered her paw to Cannon.

“Hi princess, I missed you.” He sank to the floor in front of her and hugged the rottie tight while Turner hung up his coat.

Daisy backed away from Cannon to shake with Turner.

“Oh, you’re speaking to me again now that I brought the brat home?” He bent and gave Daisy a hug like he’d seen Cannon do. “Are you hungry?”

“No, I ate with the guys. Chris made food for the study party.”

“Does he do that all the time?”

“The party moves from house to house each week. All of the men like to see us well fed. Asher loves testing out new recipes. Last time it was something Korean I can’t pronounce. Chris feeds us like it’s our last meal and Brock loads us up with salads and fruit. I’m the only one who doesn’t host because all I’ve got is macaroni and cheese.” He huffed a rough laugh.

Turner nodded, thinking about what a Sunday afternoon would be like with four boys studying in the kitchen. He smiled, wondering if they’d like his famous pot roast recipe. Like it or not, Cannon breathed life into his cold house and his dead heart.

“Come on.” Turner held out a hand to Cannon who laced their hands together. Leading Cannon upstairs, his mind raced with all of the things he wanted to say to his boy.  He ushered the brat into his bedroom, shutting and locking the door behind him.

“Now what?” Cannon rubbed his thumb against Turner’s hand.

Turner pulled Cannon close and kissed him with all the pent up emotions roiling through his body. Anger, grief, rage, love and possession all came pouring out into the kiss.

Cannon untangled their hands and tried to push Turner back.

“Tell me you want me, brat. Say it. Say you need me.” Turner’ eyes burned with need.

“I want you, sir. You know I need you. Please.” Trembling, he pressed a chaste kiss to the side of Turner’s throat.

The simple kiss sent Turner’s blood boiling. He ripped his shirt over his head and went for Cannon’s. If he didn’t get his hands on his brat’s naked skin now, he was sure he’d die. Once Cannon’s shirt was off, he went to work on his pants, still the same flannel pants he’d come to bed wearing last night.  Turner fell to his knees and jerked Cannon’s pants down to his ankles.

Seeing Cannon’s cock erect with pre-come smeared on the head made him crazy, he licked out over the head, needing to taste Cannon from the source. Inhaling Cannon to the root, he lashed his heated flesh with his tongue again and again. Using his own drool as lube, he fingered Cannon’s pucker until the muscle parted for him.  He needed Cannon to come, wanted to feel his hot cream wash over his tongue. He wanted to drink Cannon dry. Feeling his cock get a bit harder in his mouth he knew the brat was close.

He couldn’t last much longer. It felt like Turner was trying to suck his brain out through his dick. Sinking his hands into Turner’s wavy hair, he held on for dear life, knowing that any moment he was going to explode into the velvet heat of Turner’s mouth.

Turner’s finger rubbing against his prostate was the last straw. Calling his name, Cannon started to come down Turner’s throat in hot, heavy waves. Just when he thought he was done, his cock jerked again and more cream blasted into Turner’s throat. He could see Turner swallowing rapidly to keep up.

“On the bed.” Turner stood, wiping come and drool from his chin and going for the button on his jeans.

Cannon positioned himself in the middle of the bed on his hands and knees. He’d wanted Turner to fuck him from the moment they’d met four years ago at freshman orientation and it looked like he was finally going to get his wish. It had been four months since the last time he’d done this and knew Turner was going to love his tight ass.

Rifling through the nightstand drawer, Turner pulled out a bottle of lube and climbed onto the bed behind Cannon. He drizzled some of the thick liquid onto his fingers and started to open his brat up.

“Hurry, Turner.” Cannon rested his head on the comforter.

Reaching forward, Turner grabbed Cannon’s ball gag from the nightstand. “Open and hush,” he ordered, securing the gag around the back of his head. Slicking his cock up with plenty of lube he lined up his cock with Cannon’s entrance. “Tell me you want this, brat.”

Cannon moaned and nodded his head.

Turner pushed against the tight furl of muscle slightly loosened by his fingers. The head of his cock popped inside Cannon’s snug passage. “Fuck, you’re tight. Hold on, boy.” Turner dug his fingers into Cannon’s hips and plunged forward, only stopping when he bottomed out. Pulling back, Turner pounded back into Cannon’s welcoming body.

Cannon screamed around the gag, his fingers digging harder into the bedclothes.

“Do you want me to stop, boy?”

Cannon shook his head wildly to the side and pushed his ass back, impaling himself deeper onto Turner’s cock.

Turner growled and set a punishing pace. There was no way he could last like this, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was Cannon. Cannon was here. Cannon was his. Losing himself in the rhythm of his hips, he felt Cannon’s hand move back, presumably to jack his own reawakened cock. “Mine,” Turner growled and reached around to take Cannon in hand. He matched the passes of his hand with the snap of his hips.

Cannon moaned when Turner wrapped his long fingers around his cock. He lowered his face to the pillow in front of him and pushed back to meet each of Turner’s thrusts.

“Gonna come boy,” Turner growled into his ear. “Gonna fill your ass with my hot cream.” Roaring when the first blast of come ripped from his cock, he felt Cannon pulse in his hand. He kept up the pace of his hand and hips while his cock emptied into Cannon’s ass and Cannon spilled all over his hand.

When his cock stopped twitching, he released Cannon from the gag and rested his head against Cannon’s sweaty back. Pulling Cannon to the side, he spooned around his back. “You okay, brat?”

Cannon nodded, snuggling back into Turner’s arms.

There were so many things he wanted to say to Cannon. How much he loved him. How much he wanted the boy to stay with him and Daisy, but all he had the courage to do was hold him tight and press kisses against his damp head.