Jay's Loelife Ch. 22

Just as I close out of the app, I get a text from Loren. The introvert in me is done. It's been go go go and I don't want to go anymore. When you get back I think we should unplug for a few days.

The message is like a balm on my fried nerves. I close my eyes and breathe. See? Nothing to worry about.

I talk to Loren the next morning. It's only for a minute but it's nice to hear his voice.

"I'm heading to my parents for a while and then I need to start packing."

"Okay, I'll pick you up from the airport the day after tomorrow?"

"Please." It's the only thing I want.

"And then there are no plans for a few days?" he asks with a hopeful air in his voice.

"For as long as you want."

****

The scheming photographer couldn't leave well enough alone. He just had to air his dirty laundry. Something wouldn't let me stop watching his account. I just had a feeling...

He's having a late lunch with a friend and they're talking about Loren and how they're all meeting up tonight at some social shindig. They start saying stuff, personal stuff, as if Loren won't see it. Hell, maybe they want him to.

"If I could bang one person before heading back to the east coast, it would be Loe, hands down. That guy is a fine mother fucker."

His friend sips her wine and looks at him with calculating eyes. "I bet you could..."

He looks wishful. "Ahh, some wishes remain unanswered."

"No, some wishes just need an extra push."

He looks at her and tilts his head. "How so?"

"He's a guy. It's not that complicated. You know how men are built. Do to him what you'd want done to you."

"He has a serious boyfriend."

"There's no ring on it..."

He goes on to say he would never do anything like that, but the mischievous grin on his face says Loren's about to walk into a trap. Now, I trust Loren with my life, but Derek was right. That guy is a snake. I pack the rest of my stuff and shove everything by the front door. My brothers are in the living room watching me like I've officially gone crazy.

"I need a ride to the airport, now."

"Why? It's eight at night."

I stop what I'm doing and look at my brothers with all the anger in my veins. "That snake is about to bite."

Five minutes later we're in the truck and on our way to the airport. While Derek drives, I call in for a private charter.

"What are you going to do?"

"Find Loren. That's all I know."

"Yeah brother, you go get Loe."

Taylor leans forward from his spot in the back and grips Derek's shoulder. "You quoting Lil Jon now?"

Derek looks back in confusion. "What?"

"You know, 'to the windooooow, to the wall, til the sweat drop down my balls, til all those bitch'--"

I laugh.

"Yeah, yeah,' Derek shoves Taylor back. "'Let me see you get low, you scared, you scared. Drop that ass to the floor, you scared, you scared," he says with very little enthusiasm.

"It actually applies here. Don't you get it? Get Loe, as in Loren."

Both Derek and I roll our eyes, even if it is a little funny.

To prove his point, Taylor starts singing with his arms in the air, as much as a giant can in the back seat of the truck anyway. "Get Loe, get Loe, get Loe, get Loe. To the window, to the wall, to the wall. Til the sweat drop down yo balls--"

"Alright, I get it. I get it."

"I'll never hear the song the same again," Derek groans. "The next time I try to grind up on Danielle, I'll be thinking of Jay and Loren. It's ruined forever."

Taylor likes the sounds of that. Nothing like ruining a cherished song for your brothers to brighten one's day.

They drop me off with a 'good luck' and 'call if you need anything', and of course Taylor makes sure to sing a little Lil Jon if only to see me smile.

I don't land in Seattle until eleven. I take an Uber home. From there, the plan is to jump in my car and drive straight to Puyallup. I don't know exactly where he's at, but I'll be able to figure it out when I'm closer.

With the luggage all but forgotten in a pile by the front door, I head straight for the garage. I just want to get to Puyallup before the buzz of anticipation and frustration turns into a rolling boil. It's not Loren I'm frustrated with, but the dinglehead who thinks he can skeeze his way between us.

I smash the garage door button with my fist in hopes it will speed things up. As the door opens and the outside street lamp floods the garage. I pause. Loren's van is parked next to my Sequoia.

He wouldn't leave his van here.

Shocked, and not quite sure what's going on, I cautiously backtrack from the garage. All the lights are off but he has shoes by the door, a hoodie laying over the corner chair, and keys on the sofa table. I stare at the ceiling as I walk upstairs. Pausing by the bedroom door. Quietly, I push it open.

There, on my bed, is one very exhausted, lightly snoring, but perfectly wrapped gift to my longing heart.

Not bearing the thought of being away from him for even one more second, I strip down to my boxers and hurry to the bed. I attempt to pull the sheets back, but he's got himself so wrapped up that I can hardly find my way in.

"Hey," I whisper in his ear. "Let me in." When he doesn't budge, I try to find a weak spot in his fortress. Finally, the edge of the blanket pulls up. As I force my way into my own bed.

Loren starts to wake like a bear mid hibernation. He's not usually a hard sleeper. He stills and then, without warning, rolls to the other side of the bed, taking all the bedding with him. "What the fuck are you doing?!" he yells like a warning siren.

"Trying to lay with you!"

Loren sits up but he wrapped himself into a tight comforter burrito. "Jay?"

"It's my house. Who else would I be?"

"Fuck." The word is said with pure relief. He karate chops out of the blankets and comes to me, wrapping his muscular arms around me.

He smells like my shampoo and his body wash. I squeeze tight and inhale as much as possible. For someone who isn't quick with the affirmations and the I miss yous, he's holding on just as tight. "You happy to see me or what?"

Loren doesn't say anything, he simply pulls me down and covers us with the blankets. He takes my face in his hands and kisses me, rather desperately, if I may be so bold. When he's satisfied with the level of making out, he shoves me back. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming, jerk?"

I grab his wrist and pull him to me. "Because I was livid about the photographer trying to get between us. When I saw his story, my sole focus was getting back here and making sure he didn't get the chance to put his hands on you.

Loren softens against me. "You were jealous."

"I wasn't jealous. It's not like I thought for one second that you'd do anything, but I sure as shit wasn't gonna give that idiot the chance."

He runs his finger down my chest and laughs. "Ah, c'mon, you were a little jealous."

"I was being protective of what's mine."

"What's yours?" he says as if this is brand new information. As if he isn't the sun and the moon and the gravity that surrounds me. "Is that right?"

I roll him on his back and growl. "Did he touch you? Did he touch what's mine?"

"He touched my shoulder, I guess."

That bastard. I lean down and kiss his shoulder.

"Oh, and my elbow."

I raise his arm and kiss his elbow.

"Now that I think about it, he touched my neck."

I know he's bluffing now but I kiss every inch of his neck. There's no way that fool is leaving his mark.

"I could tell you where he wanted to touch me," Loren says, bubbling with suggestiveness. "He wanted to run his hands down my chest, I'm sure of it."

I chuckle but run my hands down his chest anyway. It's been three weeks since I've touched him and doing so isn't a hardship.

"He probably wanted to drag his fingers across my waist and then dip--"

I put my hand over his mouth. "As fun as this game is, I don't want you or I to imagine him touching you anywhere else."

His body is mine, and he knows it. He lets me reacquaint myself, running my hands over every part. Finally, I slide my hand between his legs and wrap them around his cock. "You were sleeping naked."

"You're close to finding out why..."

I stroke him a few more times, twisting and pulling in the way that drives him crazy, then I slide lower. It's...slick. I investigate, prodding slowly. "What exactly were you doing in my bed?"

"Thinking of you."

I like the sound of that.

"It's not the same," he says with a long, dejected breath, like he was longing for me the way I longed for him.

The thought of him struggling to get off because it's not me doing it is like gasoline on a fire. I take him in my mouth and work him over with my tongue while my fingers give his ass the same treatment. It's not until he's begging that I move back up his body, shoving my boxers down as I go. He tries to repay the favor but it's been three weeks.

I'm desperate for him like a deep breath at high elevation. The feel of his warm skin has me craving things I thought would never be in reach. It's scary being at the mercy of someone who has no idea that his very existence is the only reason for mine.

He spreads his legs and pulls me close, digging his fingers into my shoulder. "C'mon," he demands. "I need you."

The feeling is mutual. There's no denying that.

Copyright © 2022 Mrsgnomie; All Rights Reserved.