The Way You Say My Name Ch. 08

Since Dillon was a good two inches taller than Jesse, being called "squirt" by his brother's childhood buddy was just too funny. Dillon laughed and clapped Jesse on the back. "Long time no see, man. What are you doing here?"

Jesse put him down, pulled back, and then grinned, his shaggy black hair falling into his navy blue eyes. "I own this joint, junior."

"Heath said a friend of his owned a theater in Chicago. He never told me it was you." Dillon surveyed his surroundings. "This place is incredible, Jesse."

The pride on Jesse's face was unmistakable. "She is, isn't she? It took us about two years to get her back in shape, but this old girl had good bones. She cleaned right up."

Jamie raised his brows. "I thought only cars and boats were thought of as female?"

Dillon's manners came back to him. "Damn. I was so surprised to see you, Jesse, I forgot to make introductions. Jesse Wade, this is James Walker, my--" Dillon faltered. What was Jamie to him? More importantly, what did Jamie think they were?

Jamie steeped up and solved the problem. He held out his hand. "James Walker, Dillon's boyfriend."

Boyfriend? Dillon's heart was beating so fast, he thought sure everyone else could hear it. If Jesse noticed Dillon's awestruck reaction to Jamie's response, he didn't show it. He shook Jamie's hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, James. As for theaters being referred to as female, I don't think it's a usual thing. But when my better half and I bought the place, we figured only a lady could be as grand as we envisioned this one to be. So, we named her the Empress, and worked our fingers to the nub getting her just the way we wanted her." His expression changed from pride to affection. "Lucky for me, I fell in love with a carpenter. I wish Rafe could be here to meet you tonight, but I'm afraid he's away on a job. The restoration of The Empress went so well, he's been able to bid out on other restoration jobs." The pride was back, but this time Jesse's emotions were directed solely towards his mate. Only when Dillon and Jamie shifted where they stood did Jesse seem to snap out of it.

"Sorry about that. I get sorta sappy when I talk about Rafe." Jesse looked down at his watch. "The movie's gonna start in about fifteen minutes, so why don't we get you seated? Tonight's feature is an independent film called Destiny of Time. It's a gay vampire flick. I think you'll really like it. Destiny racked up at the Indie Awards. Hard to believe the guy who wrote it is only twenty-five-years old." He hesitated, then said, "Um, if it's okay with you, I'm gonna put you up in the balcony. It's closed to the public, so I thought you might have some, uh, privacy."

Dillon saw Jamie swallow. The last thing he wanted to do was make Jamie feel uncomfortable or rushed. He started to refuse Jesse's offer, but Jamie spoke before he could.

"That sounds nice, actually." He gave Dillon a shy smile. "If it's okay with you, that is?"

Dillon nodded, unable to speak, his emotions clogging his throat. He looked into Jamie's eyes, and for a minute, he could have sworn they were the only two people in the universe. Finally, Jamie said, "Um, I'll just go get the popcorn and stuff. Any special requests, Dillon?"

"Extra butter, please."

"Gotcha."

As soon as Jamie left, Jesse started laughing. Dillon said, "What?"

"Heath told me you had it bad, squirt, but I had no idea just how bad. I thought for a minute I was gonna have to turn on the sprinklers and cool you two off, the way you were looking at each other." Jesse put his hand on Dillon's arm. "For what it's worth, James looks like a man in love to me."

Dillon had often heard the expression, "I'd give my left nut," followed by whatever it was the speaker desired. He'd always thought it a little extreme to pledge a testicle for the want of a new car or a "bitchin'" motorcycle. With Jesse's words, though, Dillon realized he knew exactly what that phrase meant. He'd give his left nut to know that Jamie loved him, to hear him say the words. Jamie returned before he could tell Jesse that, though.

Juggling popcorn and cokes, Dillon and Jamie followed Jesse to the back staircase, the one leading to the balcony. Jesse unclasped the chain holding the closed sign, and motioned them forward. "Go on up, guys. I'll refasten this as soon as you go so no one will bother you."

After giving Jesse another round of thanks, Dillon and Jamie headed for the balcony. The plush red fabric of the seats gleamed in the low lighting, giving the whole area a cozy, warm feeling. Dillon motioned Jamie towards one of the center rows, far enough away from the railing so as to be hidden from anyone happening to look up. Dillon had Jamie all to himself, and he wanted to keep it that way.

The lights dimmed to the point of nonexistence not long after they were seated. Since the Empress showed nothing but classic movies and independent films, the previews were limited. Before long, Dillon was caught up in the plot of the main feature. The story captivated him, the tale of a teenage boy, brought back from the brink of death by a centuries old savior who himself had much to learn about living. The movie was well done, the script tight. Even as intent on the movie as Dillon was, though, there wasn't a single minute when Dillon wasn't aware that Jamie was sitting by his side. The subtle brush of Jamie's fingers as they met Dillon's in the popcorn bucket. The way Jamie laughed in all the right places, the smell of his hair as he leaned close to whisper something about the movie. All those things were driving Dillon crazy. He had to touch him, had to hold him.

Dillon leaned over. "Jamie?"

"Yeah?"

"Would you, um . . ." Okay, Carver, time to pull together some nerve. "Would you mind, uh, sitting on my lap?"

Dillon thought for a second he was gonna refuse. Jamie sat stone still and dead silent. It wasn't until he set the bucket aside and stood up that Dillon released the breath he'd been holding.

Jamie settled cautiously on Dillon's legs, facing the front so as to see the screen, his back resting against Dillon's stomach. It took him a minute to get settled, causing no small amount of wiggling--and no small amount of swelling to Dillon's groin. He was starting to think he'd made a mistake. What would Jamie say if Dillon shot off right then and there? Jamie finally got comfortable, causing Dillon to make an audible sigh of relief.

Jamie leaned further back. "Is this okay?"

"Perfect." And it was. He could feel Jamie's warmth, the soft weight of him a burden Dillon would gladly bear again and again. He maneuvered an arm around Jamie's waist and pulled him all the way in until there wasn't a space between them. "How about you? You comfortable?"

Jamie rested the back of his head against Dillon's shoulder, Dillon's mouth just inches from the exposed flesh of Jamie's neck. "Um hmm. This feels good."

Dillon relaxed and returned his attention to the movie as best he could. It was a blissful agony to have Jamie so close, but it was one Dillon wouldn't have traded. His body was on fire--his mind on overdrive--but Dillon did his best to focus on the film. Enter the feeding scene.

Dillon enjoyed a good vampire movie as much as the next teenage boy, but he rarely felt the urge to actually bite someone's neck. Jamie wasn't just anyone, though, and having the man he loved on his lap was too much temptation for Dillon. Just as the main character pulled out his fangs and bit the object of his affection on screen, Dillon lowered his head and scraped his teeth against the tender line of Jamie's jugular. Jamie shivered and moaned slightly, giving Dillon the encouragement he needed. He went in again, only this time Dillon used his tongue to trace the curve between Jamie's neck and shoulder. Jamie came unglued. He was moving and thrashing to the point that Dillon thought sure he'd hurt him.

"Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?"

Jamie's reply was a breathless rasp. "You didn't do anything wrong. It's just . . . oh God, Dillon, that feels so good."

"Can I--Can I keep going?"

An immediate, "Yes."

Exactly what Dillon wanted to hear. Keeping his mouth on Jamie's neck, Dillon slipped his hand under Jamie's shirt, tugging at the tank underneath until it was out of the way and the flat of his palm rested on Jamie's bare flesh. Using a slight amount of pressure, Dillon caressed the tensed muscles of Jamie's stomach, circling lazy patterns on his skin. He continued the assault on Jamie's neck with his mouth, alternately biting and licking from his head to his shoulder. His plan was only to bring Jamie pleasure, to give back something so long denied. And if Jamie's moans were any indication, the plan was working well. It wasn't until his hand accidentally dipped lower than he intended that Dillon realized just how well. When the knuckles of his right hand brushed the tent in Jamie's jeans, it was all Dillon could do to hold Jamie on his lap and keep him from going off like a rocket. Dillon stilled his hand long enough to let Jamie catch his breath.

"You okay, baby?"

"Yeah." Jamie might be okay, but he was panting like he'd just done ten laps around the building. His voice was thready, strained. "When you touched me like that, I sorta lost it." He stopped and took in a gust of air. "I know it was an accident, and I wasn't expecting it, but it just felt so . . ."

"So, what? It felt so what, Jamie?"

"Right. It felt so right."

Dillon's reply was a soft whisper against Jamie's ear. "Jamie?"

"Huh?"

"Can I touch you there again, only on purpose this time?"

Again, no hesitation, though Dillon could feel him trembling. "Yes."

Dillon kissed him on the jaw. "I'm gonna take it slow, and if I do anything you don't like, tell me and I'll stop. Okay?"

"'K."

Dillon wasn't sure where he found the restraint, but he forced himself to be gentle as he moved his hand to Jamie's fly. They were both shaking, all too aware of the bridge they were crossing. Jamie's button gave way with minimal protest, but Dillon could have sworn everyone in the theater heard the rasp of Jamie's zipper as Dillon pulled it down. Parting the fabric into a V, Dillon exposed Jamie's cotton-covered erection. He paused, waiting for Jamie to give him the signal to stop. When no such signal came, Dillon braced himself and then brushed one tentative fingertip against the slightly moist spot on the fabric directly above Jamie's head. Jamie closed his eyes and whimpered.

"Still okay?"

Jamie nodded. "Please, don't stop."

Dillon kissed his temple. "I won't. You ready?"

"Uh huh."

Careful not to snap the elastic, Dillon eased his fingers under the waist band of Jamie's cotton boxers, avoiding Jamie's erection while he shifted the fabric out of the way. Jamie's crisp curls swirled around his wrist, setting Dillon on fire with sensation. Dillon tugged lightly until Jamie was free of the fabric, the boxers having been bunched down into his jeans, which Dillon had pulled low onto Jamie's hips. This was it. No more excuses. Dillon fastened his mouth to a spot just above Jamie's collar and started sucking at the same time as his hand circled Jamie's length. He let go of Jamie's neck just long enough to whisper, "Is this okay?"

Jamie was practically vibrating. "God, yes."

Dillon had forgotten how big Jamie was. Either that, or he'd grown in the years they'd been apart. Whatever the case, God had made up for Jamie's lack of height by blessing him abundantly in his private region. Jamie was at least eight inches, and thick--so thick, Dillon swallowed at the thought of one day having Jamie inside him. He would, though. The time for selfishness had long since ended. With that thought in mind, Dillon began to stroke up and down all along Jamie's satin skin. His touch was light, but it was enough to have Jamie gasping for what little air his over-sensitized lungs could pull in.

How long he kept stroking, Dillon wasn't sure. In between the thrust of his fist, Dillon laved Jamie's neck and shoulder with his teeth and tongue. Soon he felt Jamie tense.

"Dillon, I'm gonna shoot."

"Go ahead, baby. Let it go."

And he did, pouring out his release in an almost painful rush of moans and gasps. Dillon held on, stoking the fires until Jamie sagged against him like a rag doll.

"You okay?"

Jamie nodded, seemingly unable to speak. Dillon understood. He'd never felt so good--or so powerful--in his life. He'd brought Jamie off, given something to him that he'd never given to anyone else. It wasn't until the cool air hit his hand that Dillon realized how uncomfortable Jamie must be. Reaching down beside him, Dillon located some of the napkins Jamie had snagged when he brought the popcorn and began to clean him off.

He was half afraid that Jamie would regret what they'd just done, but he surrendered to Dillon's cleaning efforts without a fuss. In fact, he nuzzled against Dillon's neck as Dillon finished the job and helped him back into his clothes. Dillon pulled him close and wrapped him up tight. Jamie twisted until they were facing, and then Dillon felt Jamie's hand move between them. "No, Jamie. Not tonight."

Jamie's face was a mask of surprise in the pale light from the screen. "But I want to make you feel good, the same as you did for me. Dillon, no one's ever touched me like that before."

"No one?"

Jamie shook his head. "You seem surprised. Did you think I'd had a steady stream of fuck buddies?"

"A stream, no. But surely you've had offers?"

Jamie rested his head back on Dillon's shoulder. "A few, but I wasn't interested. They weren't you." He kissed Dillon's throat. "Now can I touch you? Please."

Dillon cleared his throat. He hoped Jamie didn't think he was crazy, but he had to tell him what he was feeling. "Jamie, it's not that I don't want you to touch me, it's just that it isn't necessary."

"Not necessary? You mean you--"

"No, and I don't need to." When Jamie seemed skeptical, Dillon went on to say, "Yeah, I'm hard as a rock, and seeing you come like that is gonna have my blood boiling for weeks, but it was enough just to hold you tonight, to touch you. I'll have my turn, but for now I just want to make you feel good. I want tonight to be only about you."

Jamie raised his head and looked straight into Dillon's eyes. "I'm not sure what to say. I . . . I had no idea you felt that way."

"You don't have to say anything. Just let me enjoy you for a while before we take it any further" Dillon grinned. "Course, if you were to kiss me, I doubt I'd try to stop you."

Jamie smiled and leaned his head forward. He didn't need to be asked twice.

#

Jamie and Dillon sat inside the Lumina, holding hands and sharing an occasional kiss, but mostly just talking. How long they'd been parked in Aunt Sadie's driveway, Jamie couldn't say. This was one of the things he'd missed the most with Dillon, the quiet times, the conversation. Dillon got him on a level no one else--not even Ben--ever had. He still couldn't believe the two of them were together, starting fresh. It seemed like a dream he hoped he'd never wake up from. A flicker caught Jamie's eye, and he laughed as he saw the porch light come on and go off for the fourth time. "That one was only two minutes behind the last one." He sighed. "I guess that's Aunt Sadie's signal for me to go inside."

Dillon picked up Jamie's hand and kissed it. "If you must, you must. I have to say, I admire your aunt's style. My father would have just marched out here and yanked me out of the car if he'd wanted me to come inside."

Jamie studied him for a minute. "Do you miss your folks?"

"A little bit, I guess. I mean, there are things I miss about them, certain qualities, but I know they can never accept me the way I am. Deep down I know I'm better off."

Jamie brushed the hair back from Dillon's brow with the tips of his fingers. "Why wouldn't you let me touch you back at the theater, Dillon? I wanted to."

Dillon all but purred as Jamie's fingers brushed against his scalp. "I know you did, and I wanted it to. But like I said, tonight was about you. Hell, I almost shot from watching you get off. Taking my own pleasure after that just wouldn't have been the same." His smile was pure mischief. "Are you that anxious to get into my pants?"

The porch light came on again. "I am, but I don't think Aunt Sadie is gonna wait." He leaned forward and kissed Dillon, a light brush of lip against lip, but enough to send sparks flying. "As much as I hate to, I'd better go. Aunt Sadie does so much for me, and she doesn't ask anything in return. The least I can do is respect her wishes."

"That's one of the things I admire about her, Jamie. She does what she does because she loves you, not so she can hold it over your head. Douglas Carver doesn't do anything for anybody unless he can get something out of the deal. My father thinks he owns the world."

It was like a switch someone had flipped. The nagging memory that had plagued Jamie since the minute he read Ben's letter finally popped to the surface. That night at the sheriff's station, Ben had told Jamie about meeting his boyfriend at the old Tanner Textile Mill. Ben's exact words were, "My friend's family owns the whole place." Jamie grabbed Dillon and pulled him close.

Dillon stroked Jamie's hair. "Not that I'm complaining, but what was that for?"

Jamie pulled back and kissed him again. "For making me remember something I've been trying to think of for days. I know who he is, Dillon."

"He who?" It took Dillon a minute before realization dawned. "You mean--"

"Yes. I know how to find Ben's boyfriend."

#

It sounded so easy at the time, but knowing how to find somebody, and actually finding them were two different things. After a week of searching, Jamie and Megan were finally forced to admit defeat. She'd been pulled into the project almost immediately, but the two of them were quickly coming to the conclusion that they weren't gonna find anything on their own. They'd scoured the courthouse and city hall, but the red tape and nonsensical filing system made digging up any sort of useful information impossible. Dillon helped as much as he could, but between work and school, he didn't have any time to spare. Jamie sat in the basement of the courthouse, pouring thru deeds. After an hour of searching and finding nothing, he looked across the table at his partner in crime.

"Megan, I don't think it's in here. Maybe we should ask somebody."

Megan blew a dust bunny off the end of her nose. "I'm all for that, but who should we ask?"

"How about your brother?"

"Brandon would want to know why we wanted the owner's name."

And then Jamie would have to tell him about the money. Damn. Megan was right. There was no way Jamie could go to Brandon. At least, not yet. He was fresh out of options when Megan said, "What about Heath?"

"What about him?"

"Well, he works for the fire department, and I bet they keep records of all the inspections done on factories and businesses in the area."

"Yeah, but Tanner Textile has been closed down for years. The owners would have no need for fire inspection reports."

Megan shook her head. "If the new owners are using the property as a tax write off, they probably have insurance. And if they have insurance, they had to have it inspected. I bet Heath could get a copy of the report, which would have the property owner's name on it."

"You make a good point, but you're forgetting one thing."

"What?"

"Just like Brandon, Heath would want to know what we were looking for."

Megan shrugged. "So we tell him."

"Huh?"

"Well, unlike Brandon, Heath isn't duty-bound to report that money. Besides, he loves Dillon. I just know he'll want to help."

Jamie hoped she was right, but he wasn't betting on it.

#

"You found forty-two-thousand dollars, where?"