Hart tried to be mindful of how tightly he was holding Free. He had moved in and made himself nice and cozy against his chest. It was beyond wonderful. He almost felt bad that he was receiving such pleasure when he was supposed to be comforting Free, not the other way around. He loved how big his arms looked wrapped around Free’s narrow waist. Free wasn’t short, Hart didn’t have to stoop to hold him or to press their cheeks close. They fit well together. He smelled warm and inviting. Hart burrowed his face behind Free’s ear, inhaling the scent of his shampoo.
“Hold me tighter,” Free whispered, nestling against him.
Hart couldn’t stop the faint moan that escaped his throat. He squeezed him even closer as Free trembled faintly in his hold. He was touching a beautiful man, and most importantly, Free seemed to be enjoying it, enjoying him. His wife used to tell him constantly he was too big and burly to hug her. He’d missed the affection of a simple embrace.
“You feel so good, Ivan,” Free spoke against his warm skin. “I trust you.”
Hart’s throat was tight. He was still flabbergasted about what it was that Free saw in him, but he wasn’t going to question it any longer. He decided he was reaching out and grabbing all of Free with both hands, and he wasn’t letting go unless he was told to. Hugging him until he wasn’t trembling any more was taking longer than he’d thought and before he knew it, Hart’s groin started to throb at the same rhythm as his pulse. Oh no. Free caressed his neck and his shoulders as he took as much comfort as he wanted. Soft fingers stroked the back of his scalp, making his cock jerk and harden so fast he got dizzy. He absently pushed Free back a few inches.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” Hart turned his lower body away. He didn’t want to let Free go because his rejected expression was too much. “I’m so sorry.”
“I crossed the line, huh?” Free mumbled.
You didn’t. With his hips still turned at a weird angle, he began to explain himself, because the last thing he wanted was for Free to think he didn’t want him badly. “My wife used to get very angry when my…” Hart groaned. This is fuckin’ humiliating. He motioned with his head toward his prominent bulge. “When it’d stab her.”
Free blinked repeatedly, bewildered, as if Hart had just spoken in Japanese.
“Those were her words. ‘Stabbing’.” Hart looked away, unable to see the strange expression or worse, the pity lurking in those dark orbs. “My reaction was maybe a delayed, post-traumatic divorce flashback. I thought for a second I better not stab you too hard and turn you off.”
Hart could feel the heat of indignity all over his face and neck. He was mortified. No man wanted to confess that the person who was supposed to love him unconditionally had been repulsed by him. Teresa had had infinite conditions. So many that he hadn’t been able to keep up. He closed his eyes and tried not to acknowledge the humiliation. Instead, soft, slim fingers stroked his flaming cheek.
“Hey,” Free whispered close to him. “Look at me.”
He did what he was told. Free’s expression was devoid of any pity.
“Thank you for telling me that. For being honest. It explains a lot, I think. But, let me tell you this and, I’m only going to say it once.” Free stared deep into his eyes. He saw the honesty there. “Whatever your ex-wife thought of your body, of your hair, your sex…I am one hundred percent sure that I think the complete opposite.”
Hart hoped that statement was true. The lust blazing in Free’s eyes was undeniable. Free grabbed him roughly around his waist and turned his hips back toward him. Hart’s breath hitched at the first feel of another man’s hard cock pressed firmly against his own. He was thankful the door and the walls of the armory were five-inches of reinforced steel, because the tortured moan he released would’ve easily been heard throughout the office.
“Feels good, yes?” Free whispered against his cheek. He kept his hold on his hips and pushed them back until Hart’s back connected with the wall. He grunted at Free’s strength, his lean muscles and tight body forcing him to give him what he wanted. Free’s own hardness dug deliciously into his. “None of this right here offends me. It flatters me.”
Free rotated his hips, making him clamp his jaw to keep from yelling how amazing it felt. A small, satisfied smile played on Free’s lips when he asked, “Are you ready to be with a man, Ivan? Hmmm?”
Hart wouldn’t start this—relationship, friendship, partnership—with lies. It was clear that wasn’t the way to have a successful anything. He’d been hiding his true nature for years. This was a chance for him to really be him. If Free said he’d like anything that his wife hated, well then, he was about to love the hell out of this. Hart wrapped his arms around Free’s waist—enough to make him moan—and spun them around, reversing their positions, and pinned Free’s body to the wall with his own. Before Free could gasp in surprise, Hart had both his hands secured in one of his fists and pinned over his head.