Dancing With Tears In My Eyes Ch 07

The little girl's father knelt beside her, his arms around her waist as they watched the squirrel creep closer. She was clearly afraid. She crowded into the half-circle of her father's arms, her wide blue eyes tracking the animal's approach. Her father said something to her and put an unshelled peanut in her hand, gesturing for her to give it to the squirrel. At first, she shook her head violently. No. Too afraid. Her father gave her a gentle nudge and a few coaxing words of encouragement and she tottered forward, her eyes locked onto the animal, who froze into place. She tossed the peanut near him and stepped back, watching in innocent amazement as the squirrel scampered forward, gave the nut a sniff then picked it up and started gnawing at it.

It was such a beautiful portrait that Shawn couldn't resist snapping a few shots. There was nothing more compelling than a first. And with a child, especially as lovely as she was, it was pure magic. He introduced himself to the father and gave him a card, jotting down his contact information and patting the girl's tiny hand. As he watched them walk away, the toddler instinctively reaching for her father's hand, he realized that he envied the man and the relationship they had.

Shawn raised the Pentax and scanned the park's inhabitants, looking for another photo opportunity and saw ... his heart stopped for a long moment, the eyepiece drifting down. He raised the camera again and dialed the focus in, searching for the face he'd just seen. And there it was. The same wild dishwater blond curls. The same haunting hazel eyes. The same luscious pink mouth. It was Conor.

Conor saw Shawn and it was all that he could do to keep from running to him. He'd visited the hospital a few days ago and was very surprised to find out that Shawn had taken a sabbatical. Daphne had told him that the doctor had not been himself since Conor had left and begged him not to see him if he was going to hurt him again. He didn't want to hurt Shawn at all. He wanted to beg for his forgiveness and hoped that they could start where they left off.

"Hi."

Shawn was so stunned that he almost couldn't speak. "Conor."

"Daph told me that you'd probably be here."

"You went by the hospital?"

"Where else would you be if you weren't at home?" Shawn shook his head, trying to calm his heart beat. "So I hear that you took a sabbatical."

"Yeah."

"Why?"

Yeah. Why?

What the hell was he going to tell Conor when he could barely admit it to himself? That he was so in love with someone that he couldn't focus on his work? "I needed some time off."

"Like me?"

Blue eyes met hazel. "Maybe." Shawn snapped off a picture. A nondescript oak tree with leaves. He released his breath, his shoulders slumping. "So, why are you here?"

"I don't have a key to your apartment."

Shawn lowered the camera and just glared at him. "What?"

"I can't fix dinner if I can't get into your apartment." Conor held out his hand with a smile. "I need a key."

A burst of anger boiled in Shawn's stomach. "What the fuck are you talking about? You leave me and just expect ... "

Conor grasped Shawn behind the neck, moving his mouth as close to his as he dared. "Let's cut the bullshit, Shawn. I know why you took the sabbatical. I also know that you haven't dated anyone since I left. You want me and only me. Do you deny that?"

Shawn had forgotten who he was and where he was. "No." He whispered, aching to kiss him.

"And I don't deny that I've been an asshole by not letting you in all the way. But I'm here to beg for your forgiveness and to ask for you to take me back."

"I can't." Shawn stepped back, his brilliant eyes silvery with tears. "What if you decide to leave again?"

"I won't." Conor touched his cheek. "I can't leave when you have my heart."

His hands shaking, Shawn fished his keys out of his pocket and pulled the house key off, placing it in Conor's palm. Conor closed his fingers around it and bent over Shawn's hand, planting a wet, open-mouth kiss to his palm, smiling when Shawn's eyes darkened.

"See you at home."

* * * * *

Shawn opened the door and paused, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply.

Mmmm ...

He'd forgotten that Conor could cook. He left the Pentax and the camera bag on the couch and took the stairs to the kitchen, smiling at the sight that met him.

Conor was dressed in a short purple kimono, large silver oven mitts on his hands as he pulled a muffin pan out of the oven. He set the hot rolls on the stove top and shucked off the gloves, basting the bread with melted butter and turning to stir another pot. He jumped at first when he felt the hands at his waist and the lips on the nape of his neck, but it took him mere seconds to adjust and to lean back against Shawn.

"Smells good in here."

"What'd you expect?" Conor turned in Shawn's arms and gazed into his eyes. "Welcome home." Their lips and tongues met, clashing fiercely, then calmed as emotion kicked in, stroking softly. Conor sighed. He was really back in Shawn's arms. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too." Shawn closed his eyes and rubbed his nose against Conor's. "I've missed you so goddamned much. I've had such a hard time without you."

Conor pulled back so that he could see into Shawn's beautiful eyes. "It's been hard on me, too, but I had to get myself right."

"What did you have to get right?"

"Frank said a lot of things to me, things that had me doubting my feelings about myself and about us. Things that I had to face up to and find out if they really were true."

"Conor ... " Shawn touched his face. "I know how Frank used you. You told me about that."

Conor shook his head. "But you didn't know about the money." Conor released him and poured them both a glass of wine, drawing him over to the couch. "I was a whore, Shawn. A slave that was rented out by his master." He watched as the blood drained from Shawn's face. "And I enjoyed it." Those words stuck in his throat. "Somewhere in my mind, my 18-year old mind, I equated this with love. Frank

loved

me because he made them wear protection and they

loved

me because they fucked me."

"But you didn't know ... "

"No, I didn't. But when Frank came here and started in on me, he made me think the opposite. He made me doubt what I felt for you, made me wonder if you were just like the other guys, fucking me for pleasure."

"You know I'd never treat you like that." Shawn said softly.

"I know that now. I was pretty sure about it then but Frank still made me doubt it." Conor took a breath, pausing to have a sip of wine. "So I decided that the best thing would be if I left for awhile to get myself together. To make sure that I deserved what you were offering me. I went home to my mother."

"I thought you hated her."

"I did. I still do to a point. You see, I sent the money I made home to her. She knew where Dad was and she was the one who sent the money to him. I thought she was using it for herself. I didn't find out until much later."

"Wow."

"She helped me work through things. She and my dad." Conor searched Shawn's face. "Did you know my father made an entry of his own in the journal?"

"In his own handwriting? No."

"He said that he wanted to talk directly to me and he told me how much he loved and cared about you because of how you accepted him." The tears building in Conor's eyes matched the ones in Shawn's. "He told me to look for someone who made me comfortable being myself." His fingers sought Shawn's and looped through them. "Ever since we first me, you've accepted me. You never asked a question; you just accepted me. And you gave me your heart and never asked for mine in return."

"I hoped ... " Shawn took a shuddering breath. "I hoped that you would give me yours in time."

"You already had it, Shawn. I was just too scared to show you." Conor set the glass down, taking Shawn's face in his hands. "But I'm not scared now, Shawn. I know what and who I am."

"And what are you?"

"A man who deserves love."

"And who are you?"

"A man in love."

Shawn's heart burst at the soft love in his words. "And you love me?"

"Oh, yes. I know it with every bit of my heart."

His hands shook as he set his glass down, a trembling that transferred to his voice. "Then show me."

Conor crawled forward, straddling Shawn's lap and gently touched his mouth to Shawn's lips, shivering at the sensations. This was what he wanted, what he'd craved for so long. Shawn's firm hands slid up his hips and over his back, urging him to move closer and he turned his head so that their mouths fit. His hum of satisfaction was interrupted by the stove's timer going off.

"My dinner!"

Shawn erupted into laughter as Conor leaped off of the couch and dashed to the kitchen. He followed with the glasses of wine and watched, his mouth watering, as Conor removed a beautiful pastry out of the oven. Conor turned with a smile and a flourish. "Beef Wellington."

"Let's eat!"

* * * * *

Dinner had been superb. Cold, crisp Pinot Grigio accompanied medium-rare, mushroom-covered chateaubriand in a buttery puff pastry crust, otherwise known as beef Wellington, asparagus spears swimming in butter and shaved parmesan and savory sage-and-basil dried tomatoes, drizzled with extra virgin olive oil. Hot rolls served to sop up the hunter sauce Conor had painstakingly crafted and dinner was simply finished with raspberry sorbet.

Shawn sat back on the couch, listening to the sound of Conor humming as he loaded the dishwasher and popped the cork on a fresh bottle of wine. He skipped down the stairs, pausing as he felt Shawn's eyes on him and blushed like a new bride. Shawn thought he'd never seen something as beautiful as the shyness evinced in Conor's face and the innocent expectation in his hazel eyes.

"See something you like?"

"Mmm-hmm." Shawn watched as Conor filled his glass but found his eyes drawn to the creamy round of his shoulder, peeking out from the silk kimono's edge. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to the exposed skin, gently tugging the fabric down. Conor sighed, welcoming the tremble that coursed through him. Shawn took his glass, took a sip and set it down, gazing into Conor's eyes. "You taste good, too."

"I thought you were full."

"Not yet." Shawn pulled his mouth down. "Not even close." He hoped that Conor wouldn't take offense but he couldn't resist. He thrust his tongue into Conor's mouth, ravaging the soft insides until Conor was whimpering with need. "Let's shower first." Shawn pulled him up, rubbing his lips against Conor's prickly cheek. "I like whatever I eat to be washed."

The breath caught in Conor's throat at the implications of those words and dreamily allowed Shawn to lead him upstairs into the bathroom, strip and wash him thoroughly, then lead him into the bedroom.

"Is this going to be all right for you?"

Conor surveyed the bed, memories rushing up to greet him but surprisingly, they were memories of the first time they made love, not of Frank. He grinned at that realization. "Yes, but I have a request."

"A request?" Shawn knelt on the bed, holding his arms out to Conor who joined him. He leaned forward and nuzzled Conor's soap-fragrant neck, sliding up along his jawline. "What might that be?"

"I want to be your slave."

Shawn pulled back, examining Conor's face. "What?"

"I want to belong to you, and only you. No sharing, no exchanging. Just you."

A million answers leaped to Shawn's lips but he thought carefully. There was more to Conor's simple request than this. It was a cleansing of sorts. It was Conor's way of erasing Frank. He liked some parts of his domination but wanted it on a romantic level now. "Get me a tie from the closet."

Conor read Shawn's intent and scrambled to find a tie and return to the bed. His eyes met those of his lover and he knelt before him, holding his wrists out for binding. He gazed into deep blue depths, breathless from both the passion and love that he saw there and gave Shawn a nod when the tie was tight enough. He raised his bound hands over his head, laying on his back and patiently waiting while Shawn secured him to the bed.

Shawn didn't waste any time. He immediately bent to claim Conor's mouth, thoroughly kissing his lips until they were swollen with his attention. "This will be your first and only lesson." He felt his prick jump at the look in Conor's eyes. "You belong to me." He whispered as he pressed kisses along Conor's neck. "And only me."

A whimper escaped Conor's lips as Shawn lowered himself and bit the sensitive skin of the inside of his thigh, sucking relentlessly until there was a good-sized mark on his thigh. He shook with pleasure, his cock thickening with every bit of pain. Shawn's tongue licked the mark gently and Conor squirmed.

"This marks you as mine. Understand?"

Conor shuddered at the dominance in his voice. "Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, master."

Conor's whispered response lit a fire in Shawn's loins and he rubbed his cum-sticky cock against Conor's, moaning at the feeling of hot silk and steel. Conor's hips raised against him, his body responding and begging for Shawn's touch, quieting as Shawn's fingertips rasped across his skin. Shawn set about learning every inch of Conor's lean body, from his slightly muscled shoulders to the elegant arches of his feet. His mouth, tongue and teeth mapped the sensitive areas, grazing over hardened nipples, lipping taut stomach flesh and nibbling tender thigh meat.

He is mine.

The words echoed through his mind and fanned the heat in his groin.

Conor groaned with every taste and touch of Shawn's mouth and fingers, his body shaking. His wrists chafed against the bonds but he fought against them in absolute pleasure. He felt Shawn's hot breath and wet tongue as he licked the insides of his thighs, moving down to curl that same tongue around his aching balls and suck on them. He shouted in pleasure, crying Shawn's name out as he fought not to cum. Shawn's adventurous tongue moved down to his asshole and slowly circled the pink pucker.

"Oh, yes."

"I didn't tell you to speak." Shawn bent and shoved his head into Conor's crack, burying his nose and mouth in his tasty ass, loving the smell of his freshly-scrubbed hole. His tongue pressed inward, sawing in and out and driving Conor insane. He pushed his tongue in again and wrapped his tongue around the hole, sucking rhythmically while his hand encircled Conor's cock and stroked. Conor's body stiffened and he cried out, his climax sudden and unexpected.

Shawn smiled knowingly and scooped up a gob of Conor's cum, applying it to Conor's hole. Conor's heavy lidded eyes opened halfway, still dazed but raised his legs, a slight smile on his mouth. He lined his cock up with Conor's waiting hole and bent low to the younger man's ear. "Now I make you mine."

Conor could only moan as Shawn slid home. His body was on overload, quivering with aftershocks but he was surprised to feel his prick tingling in response to the attention Shawn was paying to his prostate. His toes curled tighter at each pass and his breath hissed between gritted teeth. Shawn's glorious prick played him like a song, stroking and thrusting over and over until Conor couldn't keep quiet any longer.

Shawn's seven-inch cock breached Conor, sliding deep and riding hard. He kept his eyes locked with Conor's, occasionally bending to bite a nipple or lick his neck in an attempt to stave off his climax. He could feel it coming and the pressure was delicious in its slow build. He wanted to hang on, to make it last but he couldn't. Conor was just too delicious. On a whim, he reached up and untied the tie, welcoming the gentle touch of his lover's hands as he pumped into his body.

"I love you."

The words sent both men toppling over the edge. Conor went first, wrapping his legs around Shawn's waist as his mouth connected with his lover's and his cum greased the already-sweaty planes of their bodies. Shawn moaned, his cock exploding and sending pearly ropes into Conor's body, his anal muscles milking him dry and his tongue sucked into Conor's mouth. He was in heaven, he knew that now. He'd found the love of his life and he hoped that Conor felt the same way.

It took several moments before either man could talk and Conor cuddled against Shawn, hearing his heartbeat thump under his ear. "I meant it."

"I know." Shawn pulled Conor closer, covering them with the sheets and snapping the light off. "I love you, too."

* * * * *

Hi, Dad!

I took your advice and I hope you're happy. I've found someone who is perfect for me and your illness brought us together. But then, you knew that, didn't you? You hoped I'd find Shawn, didn't you?

I will be writing you every day from now on and I hope to make you proud. But I must tell you that you were wrong about one thing.

Everyone wants to dance with tears in their eyes ... as long as they are tears of happiness.

Love always,

Conor Dunlop-Anderson