Chapter 72
Lance stared into Wade’s eyes as they chased their orgasms, his own finally crashing over him. He hung onto Wade with everything he had. Waves of colors washed over him, blues and turquoise and aquamarine. As he flew, he felt Wade’s hips stutter and a warmth filled him as his husband joined him in orgasm.
As they came down, they kissed, gentle, sweet kisses as they lay together, still joined. Wade moved to pull out and Lance stopped him. “Please. Just a minute?”
Wade nodded, swallowed hard. Lance focused on his Adam’s apple and had the strongest urge to lick him.
“Did you mean it?”
Lance furrowed his brow. “Mean what?”
“That you wanted me to make you mine.” His rough voice cut through Lance and it dawned on him that his big, sexy husband was feeling vulnerable.
He cupped Wade’s cheeks. “I’ve never said anything I meant more in my life. I know this has been a wild ride and we surely have a lot to talk about, but make no mistake, Wade—my heart is yours.”
The “L” word hung between them, heavy with its implications, but it was too soon. Way too soon. Wasn’t it?
Wade blinked back what looked suspiciously like tears. “You, too. Mine, I mean.” He grimaced and Lance smiled. He didn’t need the words to be pretty. He knew what Wade was saying. He was giving Lance his heart.
They spent the rest of the night in each other’s arms, sharing kisses, sharing their dreams, sharing their hopes, whispering into the early morning.
* * * *
Sunlight streamed in through the gap in the drapes. Lance grimaced as it hit his face, burrowing further under the blanket, his left arm thrown across Wade’s chest and his face resting on his shoulder. The rhythmic up and down of Wade’s breathing settled him, soothing him to sleep and he was soon lost in dreams again.
It wasn’t until Wade stirred, his breathing changing from the ease of sleep to fully awake, that Lance woke up again. Wade’s arm tightened around him. “Morning.” Wade’s voice sounded gravelly with sleep, but a smile played on his lips.
“Good morning. Sleep well?” Lance pressed his lips to Wade’s chin, the stubble tickling.
“Mm-hmm,” Wade murmured, pulling Lance into his arms. “Wonder what time it is?”
Lance couldn’t care less about the time. If he had his way, they’d stay in bed, naked, all day. He was already hard, and when Wade moved his hips, Lance felt the evidence of his husband’s desire, too. “Have no idea,” he finally answered, stretching and feeling the tenderness in his ass. It had been a long time since he’d done that.
Wade’s brow furrowed with concern. “Are you…okay? I mean…are you sore?” Wade’s face turned a delightful shade of pink.
Lance grinned. “You mean from being so filled with your cock I thought I was in heaven?” He chuckled. “Yes, a little sore, but in all the right places.”
Wade’s blush deepened. “Last night…last night was incredible.”
Lance bent his elbow and propped up his head. “It was definitely that. And I can’t wait to feel you slide inside me again. And again. And again.” Lance punctuated every “again” with a kiss to Wade’s face.
Wade flipped Lance onto his back, kissing him hard, and Lance melted into the bed. Wade smiled. “I have to use the bathroom something fierce. And we need to get going soon. How about we save time and shower together?”
Lance laughed, unable to contain the joy of being with Wade. “Sounds like a great plan.”
* * * *
By the time their taxi arrived to take them to the tree farm, it was after noon. Not surprisingly, the shower had taken a little longer than originally planned.
Lance stared out the window as they made their way to the farm. Snow piles lined most of the roads, the edges black and crusty from the many cars driving by. Bare trees dotted the land, rising to meet gray skies. The sunlight they’d glimpsed earlier had disappeared behind darkened clouds.
The gloomy view didn’t dampen Lance’s mood—not in the slightest. Sitting next to Wade, on the way to learn more about his dream, Lance was practically flying. The thrill of being honest with Wade, and finding out he felt the same, was something he’d barely dared hope for. He gave a sidelong glance at his husband and bit back a smile. Wade was grinning like a kid at Christmas. Lance squeezed Wade’s thigh and twined their fingers, the grin never leaving his face.
Within fifteen minutes, they were turning into a long, dirt drive—currently a mixture of dirt and mud—with pine trees as far as the eye could see. A large metal sign announced they’d arrived at Michael’s Tree Farm.