Worth Keeping (17 page)

Owen reached a hand up and stayed his hand. “Nick, don’t put yourself down like that. He was the fool, sure but not for the reason you mentioned.” He snuggled into Nick’s side. “You don’t need fixing, Nick. You’re great just the way you are.”

Nick’s chest tightened at those words, said with such sincerity and affection. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve them or Owen. He brushed Owen’s hair tenderly with his fingers, his lover purring in pleasure as he did so.

There were the first stirrings of hope in Nick that perhaps Owen’s suggestion might add another dimension to their sexual relationship and satisfy him more than Nick could manage. Owen deserved that much for his unfailing optimism that everything was just fine the way it was.

“Would that be okay for you then—the dildo thing? If that’s what you want of course. I have no problem using one with you.” His face flushed, both from the thought of teasing Owen with a dildo and a little embarrassment that the idea turned him on so much. His cock started a slow rise to the surface.

Owen’s lips curved in a slow, sexy smile. “Baby, I think we have a little bit of online shopping to do. A huge dildo and bondage rope and whatever else takes our fancy.” He shivered as he reached down to Nick’s groin and clasped his ready member. “And I can see
he
likes the idea. So I think we have ourselves a plan.”

That night Nick’s nightmare once again arose from the deep, dark depths of his psyche to leave him drained and shattered. He awoke, flailing at arms holding him tight, voices trying to soothe him and the scent of sweat and fear in the air. He finally managed to focus on the anxious face of both Owen and Don as both men sat beside him on the bed. Nick took deep, shuddering breaths as strong hands rubbed his back and Owen’s familiar scent comforted him.

I should have known better. It will never be over.

“Jesus, Nick, relax. I’ve got you.” Owen’s whispered voice in his ear was soothing but Nick heard the panic overlying it. “Just breathe. It’s fine.”

Nick sat back against the headboard and closed his eyes, willing the knot in his stomach to subside and the cold feelings of panic to leave his body. When he opened his eyes, Owen’s murmurings and Don’s calm and steady gaze centred him.

“I dreamt”—Nick’s voice was husky—“I dreamt you were dead, Owen. I found you on the shore and you were blue and your eyes were open and there was a fucking crab crawling out of your mouth.” He retched as bile rose in his throat.

Owen watched him with pain-filled eyes as he handed Nick a cool washcloth, the one they’d used earlier to clean themselves up. It smelt damp and musty with semen and sex but Nick didn’t care. He wiped the acid taste from around his mouth and laid the cloth on the bed.

“What have I just done, swapped one fucking nightmare for another? Is that the way it’s going to be?” The bitterness in his voice didn’t surprise him. It was as if everything he’d felt in the past and thought he was getting over welled out of him like toxic water in a barrel, spilling over to eat at his guts and his soul.

“It was just a nightmare, Nick,” Don said quietly. He sat back, looking unsure as to whether to touch Nick. Finally he reached out awkwardly, his hand covering his son’s. “You were screaming like a bloody banshee.” He shivered and Nick closed his eyes again, not wanting to see the sympathy and pain in either of the men’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Owen whispered starkly. “I think I set them off again by what happened with Mikey today. Maybe I pushed you too hard on the whole sex toys thing too, bought back some memories about Brad. I should have let well enough alone.”

Don’s brows furrowed at that last comment but he said nothing.

Nick wanted to curl up into a ball and forget everything for a while.

Forget that his father probably thought he was a useless, impotent sod who needed artificial aids to get him off and satisfy his lover. What the hell did it matter anyway? Once a fuck-up, always a fuck-up.

“I’m fine now,” Nick said harshly. “I just want to be alone. Owen, maybe you wouldn’t mind sleeping on the couch for the rest of the night.” He had no idea exactly why he wanted to push Owen away, just that he needed to be alone with his thoughts and his sick feelings of guilt and shame and the disabling loss he’d felt when he thought Owen was dead.

Owen’s face shadowed but he nodded, standing up and taking his pillow off the bed. Nick didn’t miss Don’s look at him, the one that told him he wasn’t enamoured with this latest move. But he too stood up and together the two men silently left the room, Owen pulling the door closed behind him.

Nick lay awake for a while, trying to calm his beating heart at the thought that one day Owen might not be around and it would all be his fault.

The following morning things were a little strained around the breakfast table. Nick felt guilty at Owen’s tired eyes. The man looked as if he’d hardly slept. Nick knew the couch wasn’t the most comfortable place but he thought it was less to do with that than the fact that he’d basically kicked Owen out when he thought Nick might need him most.

Don’s face was tight—not angry, just withdrawn—and he kept glancing at Nick and then Owen with an expression of unease on his face. Finally he finished his breakfast and stood up.

“I’m going for a walk.” Don picked up his sheepskin jacket. “I’ll see you lads later.” Owen nodded his goodbye as he busied himself with packing the dishwasher and becoming extremely interested in mundane kitchen tasks. Nick ate his toast, which tasted like sawdust, as he tried to figure out how to make things better. But every time he opened his mouth, he had no idea what to say.

I’m sorry I was a bastard; I’m sorry I pushed you away when you were just trying to help; I’m sorry I’m such a fucked-up son of a bitch and you’re better off without me.

In his head they all made perfect sense but Nick feared that in the speaking of the actual words, Owen might simply agree with him and decide to call it quits. So he remained silent.

Owen turned to him, his face pale. “I need to get off to work. Is it all right to take the car, or do you need it?”

Nick shook his head. “No, I’m not going anywhere. Feel free.”

Owen nodded. “Then I’ll see you later.” He picked up the keys and moved toward the door. Nick stood up, the nightmare he’d had last night coming to the fore. His sense of dread heightened with every second that passed.

Christ, what if the dream was an omen? What if Owen walked out of this door and something bad happened and I never get to see him again? How would that make me feel?

Nick knew he couldn’t take that chance. But he also wasn’t ready to talk about it much.

He reached out, gripping Owen’s arm. Owen looked at him, his eyes appraising, a faint spark of hope glimmering in their depths.

“Drive safely,” Nick muttered. “I don’t fancy my nightmare becoming a reality.” It was the closest thing to an apology he could manage just then.

Owen’s face softened and he leaned in, placing a cool kiss on Nick’s lips. “I’ll do my best. The same applies to you, tiger. Look after yourself while I’m gone.” He gave Nick’s hand a quick squeeze and was gone.

Like a lovesick schoolboy, Nick watched him back the car out of the carport, and begin his journey toward town. He watched until the car was out of sight.

Chapter 12

Daniel had given Owen the following day off. Owen thought it was a bit odd, really, as he’d only just started work, but Daniel was going out of town to some distant family member’s funeral and had been adamant today was Owen’s time.

He sat now outside the cottage on the grass with Socks and watched as a bunch of giggling teenage girls hit on his lover. The lighthouse had been opened for business for the week and this was the first tour Nick had been asked to give. Owen sat with a smirk on his face, watching as about a dozen horny, hormonal sixteen-year-olds dressed in very short skirts and blouses with most of the buttons undone flirted with Nick, reaching out and touching him every chance they got. Nick politely moved out of range of grasping hands once or twice, and Owen choked back a chuckle.

“Eat your hearts out, bitches,” he murmured to himself. “He’s mine.”

Nick looked across at him occasionally and grinned as if he knew what Owen was thinking. They’d had a sort of truce between them since last night. When Owen had got home, Nick had already cooked his favourite dish of paella and they’d eaten it together while watching
Rules of Engagement
and chuckling at the antics of the characters. To neither of their surprise, Don was once again spending time with Heather. When Owen and Nick had gone to bed later that night, sex hadn’t been in the cards but they’d spooned comfortably and Nick had held his hands against Owen’s stomach possessively while they fell asleep.

Owen was proud of his man as he brought his thoughts back to present and watched Nick conduct the tour. Nick was very professional, showing the school group around the grounds, taking them inside the lighthouse and explaining exactly how everything worked. At first they’d insisted on him having Socks with him but when the attention had focused more on the capuchin who played up the attention with every charm he had, the teacher had smilingly asked if the furry distraction could be removed so the tour could carry on.

Socks had been banished to sit with Owen. The monkey sat now, playing with his penknife and casting quick glances in Nick’s direction every time he moved.

“Never you mind, Socks, he’s a natural at wowing those youngsters.” Owen frowned. “And the male ones too. Check that guy out looking at my boyfriend’s arse.”

A young teen stood away to one side, looking bored with the tour but definitely focused on Nick. The young man’s eyes swept up Nick’s body from feet to head and he had a slight smile on his face. But what he did next made Owen shoot to his feet in shock.

The boy reached down inside his trousers and started stroking himself. He was fairly hidden by the shade of the ridge of pine trees that fringed the hillside and no doubt thought he was out of sight.

“Fuck me, that’s not bloody happening,” Owen said fiercely as he leapt to his feet and walked over to the young man. The boy looked at him, trying to remove his hand from his trousers without being too obvious. He’d almost rearranged himself by the time Owen reached him.

Owen nodded. “I take it you were enjoying the scenery then?” His eyes travelled down to the boy’s groin where the ridge of his erection could be clearly seen.

The teenager glared at him. “And if I was? What’s it to you?”

Owen gritted his teeth at the teen’s attitude. “The man you were just wanking yourself off to happens to be my boyfriend. And while I’ll admit he’s a perfectly good male specimen to wank off to, I have a problem when someone else does it.”

The boy sneered. “Don’t you believe in sharing then?” He rubbed his groin suggestively. “Maybe you’d like to take care of this for me then, old man. Have a little something juicy, lamb instead of mutton?” He looked at Owen appraisingly. “You’re not bad yourself actually. I’d let you do me too.”

Owen’s temper rose. “Thanks for the invitation but I’ll pass. You’re what, sixteen? Statutory rape really doesn’t appeal to me.”

“I’m fucking seventeen, arsehole,” spat the young man. “And you wouldn’t be the first. I’m no virgin.”

Owen closed his eyes trying to dredge up patience so he didn’t pull this young insolent teen across his lap and give him a hiding. That had far too many BDSM overtones and this young lad would probably enjoy that. “All I’m asking for is the courtesy of not jerking off in public, using my boyfriend as the fantasy in your head. Besides, shouldn’t you be over there with the rest of them having the tour?” Owen waved in the direction of the tour group. The boy snorted.

“It’s so fucking boring. I mean, who really cares about bloody lighthouses? I’m just here because it’s a day out of class.”

“What’s your name anyway?” Owen asked.

The teen looked at him suspiciously. “Why, so you can tell the teacher about my jerk-off session?”

Owen sighed. “No, so we can have a regular conversation like adults. My name’s Owen.” He waited for the boy to speak. Finally the younger man spoke sulkily. “My name’s Tyler.”

Owen reached out a hand. “I’ll shake your hand as long as it’s not the one you had in your pants.”

The boy grinned, the gesture lighting up his face and making him look less petulant. He reached out the hand that hadn’t been in his trousers and Owen shook it. He gestured to the grass where Socks sat. “Want to meet a monkey? I must warn you, he’s a cheeky little git, but he’s pretty entertaining.”

Tyler’s eyes lit up. “Yeah, sure. He’s pretty cute, I saw your boyfriend with him but I didn’t get a chance to say hi because of the all girls squealing and trying to touch him up.” Tyler grinned again. “The monkey. Although your boyfriend too. Pity they don’t know he’s gay.”

“Yeah well, they don’t need to know that bit. Let them have their fun. Come on, I’ll introduce you to Socks.”

Socks was delighted to be the focus of attention by someone new and Owen watched as Tyler and Socks got to know each other. He watched idly for a while then asked the question he’d wanted to ask. “So Tyler, you’re gay too?”

Tyler threw a swift glance at him. “Yes.” His face shadowed. Owen knew that look.

“Does your family know or are you still keeping it a secret?”

Tyler scowled. “They know. Dad doesn’t like it, but Mum’s okay with it.”

Owen felt relieved. “Good, I’m glad they know. It’s damn difficult when you stay in the closet.”

Tyler looked at him curiously. “Why? Did you have problems coming out?” He scratched Socks behind the ears as the monkey sat quietly on his lap.

Owen shook his head. “No, not me. I was lucky to have a very supportive family. But my friend Jules—he struggled to come out. He was kicked out of home when he was fifteen, ended up on the streets and it was only when he met a guy in one of the shelters that he managed to get some sort of stability in his life.”

The boy looked angry. “That’s crap. At least I have my family even if my dad is pissed off that I’m a fag.”