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Have you ever heard a casual goodbye and known, to the bottom of your soul, that it was final; sort of like telling a friend before they move cross-country that you'll be seeing them again soon and knowing all along that you won't, as if actually saying goodbye would be too much to bear, so you don't, thereby giving yourself the illusion that you might actually mean it?
That's what it was like this morning with Sandburg.
Nothing earth shattering had happened. No fight. No ultimatum. Nothing to indicate that the see ya was anything more than what it appeared, but as I jogged down the stairs toward the truck, I knew, knew to the bottom of my soul, that he was leaving.
I stopped dead in my tracks on the landing between the first and second floor and tried to remember if I had heard him packing during the previous week, or if I had even seen him haul in any boxes. But I couldn't remember a thing.
So why was I convinced that he was leaving? Why today?
We'd been living together for five years, partnered for almost two. We were stronger than we'd ever been. We were so attuned to each other that we could practically read each other's minds. We've had entire conversations where neither one of us did anything more than raise our eyebrows.
So what was I missing?
What had he been trying to tell me that I hadn't heard, or said that I missed?
I tried to shake off my feeling of dread, tried to make myself go down the last flight of stairs, but I couldn't. Sandburg was my world. Not something I've ever been comfortable admitting out loud, but it's true, nonetheless, even if I can only admit it to myself while standing in stairwells.
I know the reciprocal is true as well. Being the focus of Sandburg's attention is rather a heady experience, and I will admit that I like having his spotlight centered on me.
Was that it then? Had I felt the spotlight shift?
But that wouldn't explain the sense of farewell I’d just gotten from him.
I knew he had asked for the day off to run some errands and hadn't thought much of it. He'd done it before. Hell, so had I.
Before I was even conscious of what I was doing, I had my phone in my hand and was calling in sick to Rhonda, who wished me a speedy recovery and promised to tell Simon what was going on as soon as he got back from the Commissioner's office. The lie had slipped so casually from my lips that I'm sure Mr. Johanson, my old troop leader, was contemplating repossessing all my old Boy Scout badges.
I walked slowly back up the stairs, wondering how in the world I was going to explain my presence or approach a topic I wasn't even sure existed.
Sandburg was going to think I was insane.
As I reached the third floor, I stretched my hearing to encompass the loft. I could hear the steady thumping of Sandburg's heart. He didn't seem to be moving around much and I figured he was sitting at the table reading the morning paper.
I scanned the interior of the apartment as soon as I opened the door, and was surprised to find him standing by the windows. He was looking down into the parking lot, down toward my truck. His arms were crossed over his chest and he seemed lost in thought.
When I shut the door quietly behind me, he turned and blinked in surprise. I was stunned by the depth of sadness I found in his eyes, although he quickly recovered.
"Hey, Jim. Did you forget something?" His voice was slightly ragged and an octave lower than his normal tone. Sandburg's voice, unlike most people, tended to drop when he was upset.
"Yeah," I said softly. I tossed my keys into the wicker basket and closed the distance between us.
To this moment, I have no idea what possessed me to be so bold. The second I was within reach, I ran my hands underneath his long curly hair, cupped the back of his head, and pulled him gently toward me.
"Jim?" he asked, shocked, just before our lips touched, but didn't try to pull away.
I consumed him, teasing his lips until he let me in, delving deep into his mouth and exploring the sweetness within.
One of his hands drifted down to my hip, resting lightly as if trying to steady himself, while his other hand planted on the back of my neck, pulling me downward.
I had no idea if I was assaulting my friend against his will or if he was a willing participant until he made a needy sound at the back of his throat. It was all the permission I required.
I guided him backward toward the stairs, my mouth never leaving his. He made a curious noise, so I stepped up the sensual assault, not wanting his brain to have time to understand what I was doing to his body.
He huffed with amusement when his heels hit the bottom step of the stairs; however, I caught him before he fell, and gently lowered him to the wooden steps. Laying out over several stairs, his elbows propping him up to look at me, I thought him the most fey creature I had ever seen. Despite knowing it wouldn't be comfortable for him, I stretched myself over his body and braced myself above him. I nipped at him, millimeters over his lips.
The smoldering grin he gave me burned straight through my body. I started to lower my head again, but he somehow managed to push himself up a step, so that my teeth skimmed his chest. The hunt was on, but for every step I climbed, always hovering just inches above his body, he managed to back up one step, always keeping my goal of his lips, just out of reach.
When he reached the top step, he tried to flip over to gain purchase on the floor. I allowed him to his knees, but maneuvered my body over his, so that my chest was plastered to his back and my groin to the backside of his jeans. His startled gasp made me purr. I rubbed my chest over his back, even as I circled my thumbs and index fingers around his wrists and held his hands to the floor.
His first reaction was to arch against me. I rubbed my cheek along his neck to let him know how much his movements pleased me. He leaned his head back as far as it would go and pushed it against my shoulder. I sucked on his neck as I thrust against him. His breathing stuttered and his eyes grew wide. He tried to move his hands, but I kept him pinned, pushing harder against him with each thrust.
His head dropped forward and I knew it was in submission.
He was giving himself to me.
Moving my weight to my left hand, I ran my right hand up his arm to his shoulder, then explored his heaving chest, feeling the muscles ripple beneath my hand. I moved down to his stomach, then lower and palmed his erection, my fingers teasing the crotch of his pants. He bucked beneath me, but I kept him firmly in place. Though not done with my exploration, I moved my hand to his inner thigh, running it up and down between his knee and groin, never stopping the thrusting against the back of his jeans.
His head slammed against my shoulder as he tried to flee the waves of pleasure washing over him, but I gave him no place to which to escape. His moaning took on a pleading tone, begging for mercy, for release. But I wasn't in forgiving mood. There would be no goodbyes between us. I knew I had to make him mine on such a level that he could never again contemplate the thought of leaving me.
I released his left hand, moving mine immediately to his thigh, rubbing both of my hands up and down his legs. Freed, he pushed back so that we were both kneeling on the floor. His entire back was pressed to my chest. He raised his hands over his head and reached back to encircle my neck, arching against me. Unable to deny myself, I let one hand explore his chest, pinching his nipples, pulling slightly on his piercing while I once again palmed his erection and thrust into him from behind, riding him steadily until he jerked against me in release. I held him tight as he sobbed for air and tighter still when he relaxed bonelessly against me.
In one fluid motion, I stood, pulling him with me as I did.
We moved as one toward the bed, and I made short work of his clothes before laying him on top of the comforter. He laid silently, his eyes half-closed in passion, as I took off my own clothes, my gaze never leaving his. There was still a bit of confusion in his eyes, and I vowed to remove it.
I started to crawl up the bed, over him, but stopped to taste the salty evidence of his earlier explosion. His entire body began to tremble as I continued my ministrations. When his fingers started to scrabble at my shoulders, I decided to continue my journey upward so as not to end our exploration too soon.
I teethed his nipple ring just to watch him writhe beneath me. However, I seemed to have pushed him too far and he decided to take charge. With a grunt, he pushed me onto my back and quickly straddled my hips.
For a moment, he contented himself with studying my face. I tried to project all my feelings for him into my eyes, wanting him to see what I couldn’t say. He nodded, a shy smile gracing his face and I knew he understood.
He scooted down my legs, his fingers raking my chest and over my hips until he was using his hands to brace himself over me. He dipped down, almost like a push up, and breathed over my erection, looking up and grinning at me as I twitched. Never taking his gaze away from mine, he slowly licked up my length and twirled his tongue over my tip. It took everything I had not to lose control.
I clenched my fists in the sheets and struggled not to surge upward. He licked with slow, deliberate movements, leaving no patch untasted, until I thought I would go insane with need. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, he swallowed me whole, pressing his tongue along my length, and hummed. My world exploded with stars.
When I had the presence of mind to focus my eyesight again, I searched for his face. He moved slowly over me and braced his upper body over mine.
Looking down, his eyes full of love, he whispered, “Hello, lover.”