Secret Light (21 page)

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Authors: Z. A. Maxfield

Tags: #Romance, #Historical, #LGBT WWII-era Historical

BOOK: Secret Light
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honey.”

Rafe’s muscles tensed at his first touch. “Ja—
yes
.”

“It’s going to be all right. I—”

“You need this?” Rafe asked, turning to read the expression on Ben’s face. “You

need me?”

“I…
Yes
,” Ben hissed.
Christ, yes
. He needed to bury himself inside Rafe more than

he needed sleep or food. More than he needed air. “Yes, I need this. I need you.”

“All right, then.” Rafe relaxed his body fractionally by sheer force of will. “It will be

fine.”

Rafe wasn’t ignorant, but he had only a few preconceived notions to go on. When

he tried to imagine what would happen between them, he couldn’t picture it, couldn’t

fathom something the size of Ben’s member entering his body.

He let Ben take the lead—allowed his lover to push his leg forward, exposing him.

Ben maneuvered him into a receptive position easily and without preamble. His cream-

slicked hand dropped between Rafe’s legs, stroking the space between his balls and

uuh
…his…
anus.

It felt good, especially when he increased the pressure, especially when he took the

twin globes of Rafe’s balls into his greased hand and massaged them, tugging at them

lightly. Rafe’s mouth went dry, and he arched, unconsciously offering what Ben was

prepared to take.

Ben was exquisitely tender, so gentle and thorough that Rafe didn’t expect the

pinch and burn when Ben pushed a finger inside him. Rafe struggled for a minute

against the invasion, gasping in a sudden breath, but Ben’s lips came down on his neck

Z. A. Maxfield | Secret Light

148

and swamped his senses with hot, sticky suction, a tongue that lapped at him and stole

his breath even as Ben’s finger pressed in farther, making headway despite the protest

of Rafe’s body.

“Let me in, honey,” Ben whispered in his ear. “It’s going to burn at first, but you’ll

get used to it.”

Rafe shifted experimentally and nodded. “Ja.”

Just when he thought it might actually be all right, Ben added another finger, and

his ass spasmed again, clamping down tight against the intrusion. Instead of crying out,

Rafe pressed his forehead against the pillow while he crushed wads of the sheet in his

good hand.

“All right,” Ben soothed. “It’s going to be all right.”

Rafe nodded, holding himself still as Ben twisted his fingers inside. Rafe gave a

strangled groan, and Ben kissed his shoulder, his back. Rafe wasn’t sure he could

endure this, even if he wanted to, even if it was what Ben needed. He wasn’t sure he

was going to be able to give Ben what he was asking for, even if he wanted it as much

or more than Ben did.

“Breathe, honey. Deep breath,
relax
. I know it’s strange at first.”

Rafe took a gulping breath, and something eased inside him.
Breathing did help
.

Breathing made it possible to shift, to arch and stretch around Ben’s fingers. Suddenly,

Ben touched him somewhere, brushed against something magical, and
zap
. A massive

electrifying jolt—pleasure that started off buried with Ben fingers—radiated throughout

his entire body, even to the tips of his fingers and toes.


Jesus
.” For a second, Rafe felt boneless, and all he understood was
more
. He arched

again, seeking, but Rafe withdrew his fingers. “
Nein, Ben. Mach weiter
.”

“Hush, I’m getting more cream.” Ben’s hand came back slicker. His fingers slid

inside Rafe easily this time, and Rafe pushed back, wanting to feel that crazy shock

again. “Here.”

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And there it was again.
Mein Gott, what is that
? Impossible, gut-clenching, and

indescribable—every cell in Rafe’s body wanted it again. Rafe buried his face in the

pillow before a grateful whine could escape him. He wanted it. He had to have it, had

to feel Ben’s fingers deeper, harder.


Fester
.”
Harder
. He was openly squirming now, leaning back against Ben’s hand,

rocking his hips to get more, but Ben’s fingers disappeared again, and the blunt head of

his cock took their place.

Rafe’s body rebelled. Ben lined himself up and drove forward, slowly,
so slowly
, but

success seemed impossible. It felt as though Ben’s cock would split him in half.

Rafe bit his lip and pushed his face into the pillow again. He trusted Ben, and Ben

needed him.
I have faith
. Rafe wanted this because Ben wanted it.

The pressure was immense, the burn nearly unbearable, but then…something gave

way. His body capitulated, and Ben was in, stretching him. Filling him.

The burn felt vague and bearable, and in time, the ache of having the thickness of

Ben’s cock inside him was even…pleasurable in a sense.

He let his head fall forward and almost laughed with relief.

“Better?”

Rafe’s mouth was too dry to speak, so he nodded.

Ben’s muscles bunched, and he drew back. The long, slow glide of his cock

withdrawing stole Rafe’s breath, a precursor to his surprised cry when Ben pushed back

in.

They rose and fell together, or rather Ben pushed deep from behind, and Rafe

pushed back until they found their rhythm in the musical babble of love sounds—

groans of satisfaction and grunts of pleasure.

Ben had been driven to this—to him—by need and desire. Rafe accepted him,

welcomed him, returned his need with passion of his own, and when they went over

the edge, they went together.

Z. A. Maxfield | Secret Light

150


Nicht aufhören
,” Rafe begged.
Don’t stop
. “
Ja, ja. Oh Gott
. Don’t stop.”

Ben gave one last thrust and held tight, squeezing the very life out of Rafe as they

shuddered to completion together. Ben dropped his sweaty head on Rafe’s shoulder

and gave a half sob of relief.

“Thank you,” Ben whispered into Rafe’s skin. His hair. “Thank you,
thank you
.”

Rafe rubbed their cheeks together and discovered Ben’s were damp. Rafe drew

away to see a sweet, watery smile—some amalgam of exhaustion and relief and pure

male satisfaction. Rafe tilted his head so he could kiss that smile off Ben’s lips.

When their mouths met, Rafe savored everything Ben had come to mean to him.

Caring, protection, family, friendship, pleasure. Maybe more than that. Maybe even

love.

Ben’s cock softened, and he withdrew it, drawing a sharp gasp from Rafe.

“Tender?”

Rafe nodded. “It’s all right.”

“It will get easier.” Ben slid his hand across Rafe’s chest and kissed his shoulder.

“Thinking about you was all that got me through the last couple of days. I needed you

so much. I didn’t give you time to—”

“Hush. I wanted it.”

“It can be better.” Earnest green eyes implored Rafe to believe. “It will be.”

“It was perfect.”
It was perfect because you needed me
. “It was better than perfect

because it was you.”

Ben dropped a kiss on Rafe’s cheek and got up. He left for the bathroom and came

back with a damp towel as Rafe drifted in and out of sleep, content. Ben’s ministrations

were gentle and caressing as he parted Rafe’s legs to clean him, holding the cool cloth

against his skin to soothe his tender bottom.

“So thoughtful.”

“I have so much to tell you, but Christ, I’m exhausted.”

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“In the morning is good enough, ja?”

“Yes.” Ben dropped the cloth onto the rug by the bed. “Tomorrow I’ll tell you

everything.”

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Chapter Eighteen

December 25, 1955

Christmas morning.

Rafe woke alone, but he heard the faintest scrabbling sounds coming from the

living room. If Mooki was dancing around out there, she must have heard Ben come in.

Rafe smiled into the darkness. He rolled over and got up. For a change, he didn’t bother

with his robe or slippers. He padded into the living room in bare feet, as excited as the

children in holiday songs. He found Ben sitting on the ground at the base of the tree,

wrapping a present.

“I caught you,
Weihnachtsmann
.” Rafe kissed the top of his head and leaned over to

plug in the tree lights. “You must be this St. Nikolaus I keep hearing about.”

“Nope.” Ben put the finishing touches on an awkward bow. “Just some guy with a

crush on the man who lives here.”

Rafe sat in front of him, cross-legged like a boy. He felt like a boy, anxious for his

present, his heart happy. Ben had been through several awful days. The shooting. The

investigation. The worst flooding in a decade and endless hours on the job. “A crush?”

“A crush. A passion. An obsession. Whatever you call it.”

“What should we call it?”

Ben sighed and pushed his present under the tree with the scant few that were

already there. He took both Rafe’s hands in his. “I plan to call it as I see it. You are the

best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“I need to draw the drapes.” Rafe started to pull his hands away, but Ben held

them.

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“No one will see us. All anyone can see from outside is the tree.”

Rafe glanced up and knew it was true. The way the lights glowed and shimmered

off the tinsel, it would be impossible to see anyone sitting behind it as they were. A

pretty metaphor for his life. Rafe gave a sad smile at that.

“What?” Ben asked.

“I was thinking how apt that image is. Me, hiding behind a Christmas tree.”

“It’s okay to keep private things private, Rafe. People don’t understand what

you’ve been through. I don’t even understand really, although I sympathize.”

Rafe shook his head at that. “I am simply a coward. I know that.”

“If that’s the case, so am I. I’m not going to let anyone see what we have because I

don’t want to lose it. I don’t want anything to ruin it.” He glanced down to where their

hands met, at the cast on Rafe’s arm. “I’m honestly afraid of how far I would go to

protect it.”

Rafe nodded. “I understand.”

“No, you don’t.” Ben lowered his forehead to their clasped hands. “
Christ
. You

don’t understand at all. I keep thinking back to the shooting. Did I have the chance to

shoot the bastard before he killed Calhoun? I should have fired
first
.”

“What do you mean?” Rafe laid his cheek on the back of Ben’s head. The tension in

Ben hummed through his skin.

“If I hadn’t identified myself, if I’d just taken the shot, Calhoun would still be

alive.” Ben rocked beneath Rafe. “Did I know? Did I do that on purpose? Did I let that

bastard shoot my partner because I was angry?”

“Of course you didn’t. How could you even think that?”

“I keep reliving it over and over in my mind. Calhoun hadn’t drawn his gun. I had

the shot. I could have fired first, but I didn’t.”

“Think back. Why didn’t you?”

“It’s protocol to identify yourself. I did what I’ve practiced a thousand times.”

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“You did the right thing, Geliebter. That was the right thing. You couldn’t know

he’d shoot.”

“But then why, late at night, do I wonder? Did I hesitate? Did I take just a second

too long because of what I’d learned about Calhoun? I swear to God, I wanted him dead

for what he did to you. Sometimes I think—”

“I know you,” Rafe reassured him. “I know you wouldn’t hesitate to do your job.”

Rafe felt Ben’s tears dampen his fingers. “At the time, it was so clear, and when I

think back, I can’t
remember
, Rafe. I can’t remember exactly how it was anymore. I’ve

told and retold the story so many times I’m confused.”

“You did the right thing.” Rafe stroked Ben hair. “I know you did.”

“Thank you for believing in me.” Ben rubbed his lips along Rafe’s thumb.

“But…I’m having a hard time believing in myself. I think maybe I hesitated. Just for a

fraction of a second. Maybe I thought… Here is the answer to all my problems, and God

almighty… What if I
could
have shot first, and didn’t? What does that make me?”

“Look at me,” Rafe ordered.

Ben lifted his chin and blinked against the lights.

“You are the best man I know.”

“I would kill to protect what we have. I don’t know. Maybe I did.”

Rafe stared at him.
Maybe he did. Maybe he’s telling me that’s exactly what he did
. “Did

you?”

When Ben opened his mouth to speak, Rafe changed his mind and lifted his hand to

cover Ben’s lips.

“Don’t say anything.”

Ben clamped his teeth together.

“Don’t give it words. I believe in you. Whatever was in your heart, don’t give it

words.”

Ben nodded.

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