Finding Forever Page 9

  “Oh dear, I think we ought to get Peter back to bed before we make our introductions,” Fiona said, taking Peter by the arm. Alec quickly took the other arm, and together they helped Peter back to his room.

  “We do apologize for intruding while you’re in hospital, but we simply had to meet you before we left London. We’re headed up to Edinburgh for the New Year, you see,” Fiona said to Peter.

  “Then it’s back to America from there,” John said.

  “No. Not at all. It means a lot to me that you took time out from your holiday to see me. I just hope you don’t mind that you haven’t caught me at my best,” Peter said as he self-consciously ran a hand across the stubble on his face.

  “Nonsense. We are practically family,” Fiona tutted.

  Peter shot Alec a quizzical glance. Alec took Peter’s hand and nodded slightly to encourage Peter to just go with the flow.

  “It’s probably time we left and let Peter get some rest,” John reminded his wife.

  “Your father is right. We should be going. Peter, I’m glad we were able to see you this trip.” To Peter’s surprise, Fiona gave him peck on the cheek. “I hope you and Alec will come see us soon in Florida,” she said with emphasis as a reminder to Alec.

  “What did your mum mean by practically family? What exactly did you tell her?” Peter asked when John and Fiona had gone.

  “I told them that you meant the world to me and that I loved you very much. Please forgive me for being such an idiot,” Alec told Peter, giving him a soft kiss on the lips.

  “I love you too, and I’m sorry I didn’t let you sort things out in your own time.”

  Alec kissed Peter again. “Well, it’s all sorted now, and I want things to be different. I want you to move in with me.”

  Peter caressed Alec’s jaw with a thumb. “Are you sure? It’s a big step. Shouldn’t you think about it first?”

  “I have thought about it. That’s why I told my parents about us. I love you, and it would make me very happy. Besides, you’ll need some looking after for a little while.”

  Peter sighed and smiled. “All right, I’ll move in on one condition.” Alec raised a quizzical eyebrow. “I’ll move in if you stop eating jam out of the jar with a spoon.”

  “I do no such thing,” Alec said indignantly. When Peter raised an eyebrow, Alec let out a low rumble of a laugh. “All right, I do. Done. I’ll quit doing that.”

  Alec gave Peter another soft kiss before leaving for the night. “It’s rather late, and they’ll be chucking me out soon. You have a good night, and I’ll see you tomorrow.” That night, they both had the best night’s sleep since the whole Christmas fiasco started.

  Chapter Eleven

  “I CAN’T breathe, can’t breathe. No… oh no. God… no… no…. Alec… no…. I’m not ready to leave him. Alec! Alec!”

  “Peter! Peter! Wake up, sweetheart,” Alec yelled into the dark, groping for his partner. Peter’s eyes flew open at the sound of Alec’s voice, but he was shaking and dripping with sweat.

  “I remember the accident,” he panted.

  “Your shirt is soaked!” Alec exclaimed after he had flicked on the bedside lamp. “I’ll get you a fresh one.”

  Alec helped Peter off with his pajama shirt as he changed. It was easier now, but Alec had nearly wept the day Peter came home from his long stay in the hospital. On Peter’s first day home, Alec was helping him change for bed, and it was the first time he’d seen Peter bare since the accident. When Peter peeled off his shirt, he was a mass of bruises. A bandage covered the incision where they had cut him open to repair his internal injuries, but it could not hide the sickly blue-green bruise from the procedure. All over his back and shoulders were contusions from debris that had rained down on him in the accident. The worst was the bruise marking the blow that sent him to intensive care; it looked like a knife wound. Even the safety harness that had saved his life left its mark. Now, nearly three weeks later, the bruises were fading and the surgery scar was a just a pink line, but memories of the accident were not nearly as faded for either Peter or Alec.

  When Peter was comfortably under the covers again, Alec turned off the lights and gingerly spooned against Peter. “You’re safe now. Tell me what happened,” Alec said gently. Peter sighed and closed his eyes.

  “That morning, Jake wanted me to come up to the third level to have a look at a cornice piece that wasn’t marked on the facade sketches. I was up there only a minute when I felt myself falling. I thought I had stepped back too far and was falling off the scaffold. It wasn’t until I was hanging by my harness beneath the wreckage that I realized the whole thing had collapsed.”

  Peter felt Alec give him a kiss on the back of his head, and he paused to take a breath before speaking again. “I was afraid they wouldn’t find me because I was wedged between the building and some wood. Then I suddenly felt a horrible pain in my chest; I couldn’t breathe and started blacking out,” Peter said, fingering the bruise on his chest.

  Alec nuzzled into Peter’s hair and inhaled deeply. “The last thing I remember was that I didn’t want to die and leave you,” Peter whispered through tears. Alec was now teary too and kissed the back of Peter’s head again. Sleep eluded them now, but they were content to spoon together and take comfort from each other.

  “Alec, everything is all right between us, isn’t it?” Peter asked after a few minutes of cuddling together in the soft darkness of their bedroom.

  Alec was shocked at the question. “Of course! Why would you even ask such a thing?”

  “It’s been nearly a week since I’ve been cleared for normal activity… and we haven’t…. You haven’t… shown any interest when I try to….”

  Alec sat up and turned on the bedside lamp. “Peter, you know how I feel about having sex with you. I could stay in bed all day with you. It’s just that… so soon after… it still…,” he said haltingly, trying to construct a reply.

  Alec leaned back on the headboard with a sigh and started over again. “When you were in hospital, you were so fragile, so broken, and in so much pain, I was afraid to touch you. I’m just afraid of reinjuring you. I—”

  Peter did not let Alec finish his sentence; instead, he pulled him down for a hard kiss on the lips. “You idiot. I’m fine. I’m not made of glass. Now kiss me back like you mean it,” he demanded.

  Alec returned the kiss with a long, languid one that gave him time to undo the buttons on Peter’s pajamas. Then, with a mixture of exhilaration and uneasiness, he haltingly and slowly let his hands glide along the fine, smooth skin and lean lines of Peter’s body. When Alec’s fingers brushed against the scar on Peter’s side, his breath hitched, but when Peter did not flinch, Alec relaxed and took hold of Peter more firmly. He stroked and kneaded every inch of Peter as if to confirm that he was solid and whole. Peter responded in kind with rough kisses and love bites that left a trail of red marks to show that he was back to reclaim what was his. Finally, when Peter showed his strength by rolling hard and pinning Alec beneath him, Alec gave himself over completely to Peter.

  It had been weeks since they made love, and they threw themselves at each other like starving men at a feast. Peter held Alec in place with a bruising kiss and slid his hands between Alec’s thighs. He palmed the heavy testicles as he teased at Alec’s sphincter with a forefinger. When the tight ring of muscle resisted entry, Peter slicked it with pre-cum from his own throbbing member and tried again. Two gentle pushes later, Alec was moaning in pleasure as Peter probed and milked his prostate with practiced skill. The foreskin on Alec’s uncut penis retracted to reveal the glans that had turned as dark as a ripe plum and glistened enticingly with pre-cum. As waves of pleasure washed through him, Alec couldn’t bear it anymore.

  “Peter, I’m so close. Please. I need all of you inside of me.”

  Wordlessly, Peter withdrew his finger and reached into the bedside table for the lube. When he had slicked his own hardened member, he raised Alec’s knees toward his shoulders and slicked
his target as well. He easily guided his hard-on into his partner by placing his thumb at the head of his penis. As Peter slid inside, Alec moaned and reached down to stroke himself.

  “Oh no, love. I’m in charge. You can come when I tell you to,” Peter whispered as he took Alec’s wrists and pinned them down on the bed.

  When Peter started to thrust his hips rhythmically, each inward thrust hit Alec’s prostate and caused a sparkle of lights in the backs of his eyes. As a growing puddle of pre-cum slicked the hardened cock trapped between their bodies, Alec’s pupils dilated and his breathing grew ragged. Peter watched in pleasure as his partner strained to achieve climax.

  “You’re close to coming, aren’t you? Do you want it now? Do you?” Peter whispered hoarsely.

  “Oh, God. Yes,” Alec gasped out, writhing under Peter’s restraining hand. “I’m close, so close. Please don’t stop.”

  “Ask me and I’ll let you come. Ask me,” Peter urged as he held back his own climax.

  “Please, Peter, let me come. I’m so close. Please.”

  Suddenly Peter ducked his head down and sucked on Alec’s left nipple. It was all Alec needed to go over the edge. His eyes rolled back into his head, and he roared in pleasure as a hot stream of semen shot out of his painfully engorged erection. Alec’s orgasmic contractions clamped down tight on the penis buried deep inside him, and a split second later, Peter was pouring himself into his partner. They rode the wave until their groins ached from the protracted spasms, and then they finally collapsed together in a sticky heap. Peter was still inside Alec, and they stayed that way until Peter softened and slipped out.

  When Peter finally crawled up from between Alec’s legs, Alec whispered to him, “Thank you, and welcome back. I love you.”

  “I love you too,” Peter whispered back, snuggling into Alec’s arms.

  When the velvety darkness of sleep started to envelop them again, Peter mumbled, “I guess we should wash before we fall asleep.”

  “You go. I can’t move,” Alec murmured weakly.

  Peter laughed softly. “Me neither,” he said before he turned off the bedside lamp.

  Chapter Twelve

  ALEC walked quietly from the kitchen toward the bedroom with a laden tray. The pearl gray light of the late January morning was just creeping through the windows, and except for the soft clatter of the crockery as he padded along in his stocking feet, the flat was quiet. When he reached the bedroom, he quietly put the tray down and got back into bed. The rush of cold air that came in with Alec when he slid under the duvet woke Peter from his snuggly sleep.

  “You’re stealing all the covers!” Peter muttered peevishly, wrapping himself tighter in the bedclothes. Alec ignored the complaint and instead stealthily ran his cold hands up Peter’s back.

  “Arrrgh, you ass!” Peter sputtered. “What the hell are you doing? Why are your hands so cold?” he demanded, rolling over to give the offender a withering look, but a breath-stealing kiss caught him before he could even lay eyes on the icy-handed culprit.

  “Happy anniversary, babe,” Alec whispered when he came up for air.

  Peter answered with a contented sigh as he quickly forgot the cold hands that woke him. “Mmmm, happy anniversary, love. You know, it feels like it’s been longer than a year since we first met.”

  “That’s because it has. We met in summer, remember? This is the anniversary of our first date,” Alec said, nuzzling his cheek against Peter’s to enjoy the frisson of morning stubble against his face.

  “I couldn’t wait to start celebrating, so I brought you some breakfast.”

  “A tasty one at that,” Peter answered with a waggle of his eyebrows.

  “I meant I brought you something to eat,” Alec said in mock exasperation.

  “Oh, something to eat!” Peter exclaimed, pretending to understand at last.

  Alec slid his partner a wry look before flicking on a bedside lamp; he also swatted him on the butt for good measure. “I got up extra early to make this, so let’s eat it before it gets cold,” he told Peter as he stood up to get the tray.

  When the tray was set on the bed, they snuggled under the covers and tucked into a breakfast of smoked salmon omelets, strawberries, croissants, and flutes of mimosas extravagantly made with French champagne.

  “These strawberries are very good,” Alec heard Peter comment partway through their meal, but before Alec could say anything in reply, a gentle tug on his hair tilted his head back, and a pair of lips with a strawberry between them pushed the sweet fruit into his mouth. Their lips melded in a juice-laden, lingering kiss, and when they broke apart, Alec had gone muzzy with arousal, and Peter had to shift himself to relieve the discomfort of his tented boxers.

  “Yeah, good strawberries, but I can think of something else that’s better.” Alec grinned and quickly removed the tray. Fueled by champagne and orange juice, they left languid lovemaking for later; instead they made love urgently and stroked each other to climax in a white-hot flash.

  “You keep doing that,” Alec panted after he had stopped twitching, “and you’ll have a very dull anniversary celebration tonight.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you’ll rise to the occasion,” Peter teased.

  “With what I planned for tonight, you are not far off the mark,” Alec smugly hinted.

  “Well, if we are to pay for whatever extravagances you have planned for tonight, we had better get ready for work,” Peter said, giving Alec a kiss on the nose before popping out of bed.

  LATER that evening, as his gift to Alec, Peter took him to one of London’s very posh Japanese fusion restaurants.

  After dinner they stood on the curb waiting for a cab to take them to the next part of their anniversary celebration. Warmed by sake and filled by a bit more sushi than they needed, they stood entwined together in the cold January evening, sated and happy.

  “Sooo, where are you taking me?” Peter asked, cuddling closer against a gust of biting wind.

  “Up,” Alec said as he rocked from heel to toe and back again.

  The sake had made both of them just a little silly. Oh, Peter mouthed soundlessly and tried to steal a kiss.

  When a cab finally appeared, Alec gave the driver a Southbank address, and a few minutes later, the cab stopped in front of a park that Peter recognized even in the dark.

  “The Eye? Are we going on the London Eye, then?”

  “Yes, but there will be more to the ride than meets the eye,” Alec uttered in a feeble attempt at a joke.

  Peter snorted. “You’re the clever boots tonight, aren’t you?”

  Alec laughed aloud and took Peter’s arm as they crossed the dark lawn of the park to the London Eye.

  At the boarding area, Peter was impressed that they went directly to the special entrance for private rides. When their private gondola arrived, Peter gasped at what was inside—a table for two with champagne and candles had been set in the middle of the compartment.

  Alec beamed with satisfaction as he watched Peter dash to the far end of the glass-enclosed compartment, mesmerized by the flickering lights of the city on the other side of the Thames. The great wheel rotated at a stately pace, but soon they were higher than the rooftops.

  “You know, I’ve never been on the Eye. This is absolutely brilliant,” Peter said, still staring at the lights below him.

  Alec encircled Peter from behind and rested his head on his shoulder. “We’ll be at the very top soon. Let’s enjoy the view with a glass of champagne,” Alec suggested, giving Peter a kiss behind the ear.

  They stepped away from the glass wall of the gondola, took a seat on the wide wooden bench by the candlelit table, and shrugged off their heavy winter jackets. As they sipped on bubbly champagne in the comfortable warmth of the heated compartment, they rose higher and higher until London was a carpet of lights their feet.

  “What’s that over there?” Alec asked, distracting Peter for a moment from the mesmerizing lights of the city.

  “What, that dark area? I
think it’s St. James Park.”

  “Yeah, I think you’re right. This is rather good champagne, don’t you think?” Alec asked, raising his glass to his lips.

  “Yes, it’s lovely,” Peter agreed, and he drained the rest of the champagne from the flute in one long swallow. “Caww, what the…. There’s something in my glass!” He sputtered and spit something out onto his hand.

  Peter stared at it dumbfounded and wide-eyed while Alec held a hand over his eyes and shook his head.

  “It’s a ring. There’s a ring in my glass,” Peter exclaimed. “How in the bloody hell…,” Peter started to say before he figured out what just happened. He swallowed the lump in his throat and looked at Alec, who just nodded his head. Peter swallowed again and continued to stare at Alec.

  “Say yes,” Alec whispered. “Say that you’ll marry me.”

  “Yes,” Peter whispered.

  “I’ve never been so in love with anyone as I am with you,” Alec said nervously. “When you were in hospital….”

  “I said yes,” Peter said more loudly.

  “Yes? You’ll have me, then? Peter, I’m….”

  Peter pulled Alec to him by the front of his shirt. “Sssh, you talk too much,” he told him before sealing his answer with a searing, lip-biting, breath-stealing kiss.

  About the Author

  LORI C. HAWKINS is a New York City transplant living in California, where she divides her time between the San Francisco Bay Area and suburban Los Angeles. She travels extensively, loves opera, and plays golf in just about any kind of weather.

  Lori discovered her passion for writing after leaving a finance career at a major bank in San Francisco and is now writing full time. She believes in living an audacious life and in happy endings.

  Visit her blog at http://rainbowromances.livejournal.com/. You may contact her at rainbowromances@livejournal.com.