Touch Me (6 page)

Jeremy lived in the same city? And he hadn’t said a word. “Funny how that never came up in any of your emails.”

He shrugged, but he avoided eye contact. “It was as good a place as any.” Jeremy studied the RMT diploma on the wall. “Erik Morgan,” he read. “I never knew your last name. I like that. It has a nice ring to it.”

“Look,” Erik interrupted, glancing at his watch. “If you’re here for a massage, get naked and get up on the table, face down. You can leave your underwear on.”

“No happy endings?”

“Strictly professional,” he warned. “I’ll be right back.” He ducked out of the room to give Jeremy privacy while he undressed. And to give himself some much needed distance.

“Everything okay?” Barry Pearson, his business partner and fellow RMT asked casually as he passed in the corridor.

“Yeah, fine.”

“I know this is a difficult time—.”

Erik cut him off with a shake of his head and a look of warning. His colleagues knew he didn’t want to talk about George. This was his sanctuary, his place to escape all that. If they didn’t understand, that was their problem.

Barry raised his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, but if you ever need anything…”

“Got it.”

After giving Jeremy another minute or two, Erik took a deep, fortifying breath and went back into the room. He had a hard time figuring out whether he was relieved or disappointed to find Jeremy had obeyed his instructions and lay face down on the table with the blanket modestly covering his lower half.

Erik silently oiled up and began working out the knots in Jeremy’s shoulders and trapezius muscles.

“How have you been?” Jeremy asked, his voice muffled by the face cradle.

“Me? Fine.”

“You look tired.”

“It’s been a tough couple of weeks.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.” In fact, Erik was doing everything he could not to think about it. That’s why he was here, burying himself in work instead of keeping vigil at George’s side.

His fingers dug into the line of Jeremy’s spine, moving down to the small of his back and then back up his obliques. The kid had packed on a few pounds—the “freshman fifteen” no doubt. But the added weight looked good on him.

He tried not to think about their last session, but it was never very far from his mind. Despite his best intentions, Erik’s hands slowed, became more sensual and less therapeutic. What was it about this kid that made him lose all perspective?

“Mmm,” Jeremy murmured. “I forgot how good this was. It’s worth the week of ramen noodles.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Erik frowned, torn between being flattered and angered that Jeremy would sacrifice his no-doubt meager food budget for him. He recalled how tight things had been for him as a student. He certainly would not have been able to afford his hourly rate back then. The situation had to be worse for Jeremy, who had worked hard to even get to college.

He lowered the sheet to the top of Jeremy’s buttocks as he reached his tailbone and paused when he revealed bare skin. Clearly the kid hadn’t left his underwear on as instructed.

He ignored it, said nothing and willed his unruly dick to calm down. He was a mature professional, dammit. He massaged other men all the time and never got turned on. He moved down the table, focusing now on Jeremy’s hamstrings.

Beneath Erik’s fingers, Jeremy’s thighs seemed thicker, the muscles more defined, as though he’d been working out. With each slide of his hand, Erik was tempted to close those last few inches and palm that firm, ripe ass, wedge his fingers into that warm crease. He was suddenly desperate to know if Jeremy was hard.

“Flip over,” he ordered roughly. He held the sheet up for privacy while Jeremy turned, but at the last minute he couldn’t resist peeking; yep, the kid was sporting an impressive boner. Erik felt his heart jump into overdrive.

He casually draped the sheet back over Jeremy’s hips, but the kid’s secret smile told him he’d been caught. Erik forced himself to breathe deeply and not to look at the bulge in the sheet or the enticing way Jeremy’s cock kept flexing beneath it.

Jesus.

He shifted to the head of the table and focused his attention on Jeremy’s neck and shoulders. Jeremy kept his eyes open the whole time, his gaze intent on Erik’s face. It was disconcerting. Last time they were in this position, Erik had leaned down and kissed him. Jeremy’s lips parted now in subtle invitation, as if he too were thinking about it. Erik ignored it. He willed his overexcited body to calm the fuck down.

“I’ve been experimenting,” Jeremy finally said.

“So you said. How was your date?” Inwardly he grimaced. He really did not want to hear about the kid’s adventures.

“Interesting.”

Erik’s hands stilled on their journey over Jeremy’s abdominals.
What did that even mean
, he wondered. And why did he care? He took up position on the left side of the table, away from the temptation of Jeremy’s lips and shifted his focus to someplace safer—like arms. Arms were safe.
Extensors
,
flexors
,
brachioradialis
,
bicep
.

“He was cute. But kind of immature. We fooled around a bit. I think he was almost as clueless as I am.”

Erik grunted. He did not want to hear the details.

“Ow,” Jeremy cried when Erik’s fingers dug too deep. “Hey, that’s a little too rough.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, embarrassed by his momentary lapse.

“Anyway, we went to a club,” Jeremy continued. “But I don’t think that’s my scene. I’m not much of a dancer. To tell you the truth, I’m starting to think I don’t fit in anywhere.”

“Don’t worry about fitting in. Be yourself. If it makes you feel better, I was never that into dancing either. Two left feet and all that.”

Jeremy’s grin was brilliant with a hint of underlying wickedness. “See? We have something in common then.”

Erik merely grunted again.

“I told my mom that I was interested in a guy,” Jeremy volunteered. “A man. She thinks it’s just a phase, but at least she didn’t get mad and freak out.”

His heart swelled. This kid was so much braver than he’d been at that age. “I’m really proud of you, Jeremy. It took me a lot longer.”

“But your mom was okay with it?”

“Eventually. We’re good now.”

Jeremy chewed on his lower lip. “I bought myself one of those dildos, you know.”

Erik’s dick lifted in his pants. What he wouldn’t give to have seen that. “Jer—”

He started at the unexpected touch on his hip. The warmth of Jeremy’s fingers seeped through his clothes and sank into his skin. The simple contact burned; hot and cold at the same time, like dry ice. He was suddenly immobile.

Encouraged, Jeremy’s hand slid up under his T-shirt and skimmed over his stomach. His stomach muscles bunched and jumped in reaction. It had been so long he’d almost forgotten what it felt like to be touched by someone other than himself.

“You’re almost as jumpy as me,” Jeremy murmured. His hand climbed higher, palm flattened, rubbing his chest. “Your heart is racing like crazy.”

“Is it?” Erik was having difficulty catching his breath.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you, you know.”

“Jeremy…”

The kid sat up on the table, threw back the blanket and swung his legs around to face Erik. His cock was fully hard, pointed straight up at his belly button. “I never felt like this before. I already jerked off twice before I came here and look.”
Oh, to be young like that again
, Erik thought with a rueful shake of his head.

Jeremy’s other hand joined the first under Erik’s T-shirt, stroking his pectorals, leaving trails of fire wherever he touched. He used the tips of his fingernails to score his nipples. Erik felt his knees tremble. His hands went to Jeremy’s shoulders. Slid up his neck and into his silky hair.

“I keep thinking about the way you touched me,” Jeremy murmured. “About kissing you.”

Erik’s gaze swung immediately to those tempting lips. Memories of the boy’s taste flooded his mouth. He traced Jeremy’s lower lip with his thumb, inhaling sharply when his tongue darted out and flicked over the pad. “I can taste peppermint,” he commented.

“It’s the oil,” was all Erik could manage. He felt like he was being hypnotized by Jeremy’s eyes, his touch.

Jeremy held the stare while his fingers curled in Erik’s elastic waistband and began slowly tugging his sweat pants down. The elastic caught on his swollen dick. He groaned at the added pressure before his cock suddenly popped free of the confinement.

Jeremy gulped. “I think I should have gotten a bigger dildo.”

Then Jeremy’s fingers wrapped around him, squeezing, stroking, learning. Erik was harder than he’d been in ages—since the last time Jeremy had been on his table in fact—and he wanted to cry with the sweet agony of it.

He gripped Jeremy’s face between his hands and brought their mouths together. The kiss was hot, raw, wet. He never wanted it to end.

“Play with my balls,” he pleaded when Jeremy’s hand on his cock was no longer enough. He widened his stance as Jeremy cupped his sac tentatively. “Harder. Let me feel you.”

Erik groaned against Jeremy’s mouth when he squeezed a little too hard, but he didn’t even care about the brief flare of pain. He was being touched again. He felt dizzy with the sheer joy of it.

He kissed Jeremy frantically, like a starving man seated at an all-you-can-eat buffet. When the kid’s tongue found its way between his lips, he sucked hungrily on it, drawing a muffled moan from Jeremy. He thrust his dick into the tight circle of Jeremy’s fingers, balls tight and heavy with the need to come.

He ignored the first tap at the door. When it came again, more insistent this time, it was Jeremy who had enough presence of mind to draw things to a halt.

“Erik?” It was Olivia at the door. She would never interrupt a session unless it was important. “Erik, the hospital’s been trying to reach you. They say it’s going to be soon, so you might want to get over there.”

He stared down at Jeremy’s cock, Olivia’s words floating over him but not penetrating. The kid was as hard as steel, slick with his own precome. And he hadn’t even touched himself.
Go away
, he wanted to shout.
Go away, this is my time
.

“Erik? Did you hear me?”

Reality slammed back into him like a speeding semi-truck. “Yeah. Yeah, I hear you.”

“What hospital?” Jeremy asked anxiously. Erik wanted to cry when those hands left his body. “What’s wrong?”

Guilt flooded his stomach, made the bile rise in his throat. Of all the times for this to happen, it had to be now. He pulled up his pants. “I have to go.” His hands were shaking.

Jeremy hopped off the table, his expression concerned. “You’re in no condition to drive. I’ll do it. Just tell me where to go.” He scrambled into his clothes. It was a testament to Erik’s unbalanced state that he didn’t argue. He’d been expecting this moment; anticipated it with a mixture of dread and relief, but now that it was here, all he felt was numb.

He said nothing on the short drive, except to give Jeremy directions when necessary. Fortunately they had found a palliative care facility half way between their home and Erik’s work, so it didn’t take too long to get there. Jeremy dropped him off at the front entrance, saying that he would find parking and then meet him inside. Erik was about to tell him not to bother, to go home, but then he realized this was his car and he’d need his keys back. He gave Jeremy the room number and then took the elevator to the third floor.

George’s sister Maureen, a matronly woman in her late fifties, was already at his bedside, along with her three grown children and their respective families.

“Took you long enough. Dr. Patel says they’re going to take him off the ventilator.”

“Yes, I know.” Fortunately George had had the foresight to grant him medical power of attorney. He had left strict instructions for this moment. “We’ve been discussing it.”

Erik stood at the foot of the bed and gazed at his partner of twenty-plus years.
Almost time, my love
. He knew what Maureen thought—that he was being callous and precipitous, but it’s what George wanted. They had discussed it in length before the disease had robbed him of speech. He would never survive this bout of pneumonia. The lack of oxygen had already shut down his brain and most of his organs, and after three years of suffering it was time.

This wizened, unconscious figure in the bed was only George’s body. Erik felt nothing but hatred for the traitorous shell that had robbed him of the man he loved. That body he had explored every inch of, that body he had held in his arms and thought he’d have forever; it had betrayed them both. It had stolen George’s vitality, his booming laugh, but never his spirit. Now, as if taunting him, it still desperately held on, keeping George prisoner until the last possible second. It was time to set him free.

“Who’s this?” Maureen snapped, her lips curled into a sneer as she peered behind him.

He swung around to find Jeremy in the doorway. “This is Jeremy. He’s a… friend.”

Maureen snorted. “Jesus, you couldn’t even wait until he was cold to bring your new “friend” around?”

“Mom,” Emily, her eldest, cautioned. She had always been the peacemaker in the family.

“Shut up, Maureen,” Erik told her as he left the bed side.

Jeremy seemed frozen by the door, his eyes wide and fixed on the bed as he handed Erik his car keys. “You’re on the third floor of the garage,” he said.

“Thanks. For everything. Do you have money for a cab?”

“You want me to go?”

“You’re a sweet kid but no sense in you sticking around. I’ll email you.”

Jeremy’s eyes narrowed as if Erik had somehow ticked him off, but just as he opened his mouth, Dr. Patel bustled into the room with two nurses. He greeted Erik warmly before moving to the bed where he would disconnect the machinery keeping George’s body alive.

Maureen gave a little sob.

“It shouldn’t be too long,” Dr. Patel said gently, patting her shoulder.

The next time Erik thought to look, Jeremy was gone. He couldn’t blame Jeremy for leaving. They hardly knew each other. Who wanted to watch some stranger’s lover die? Still, he wished he wasn’t alone at this moment.