Tomorrow Is Never Promised

Chapter 16

Ethan

I trudged down the hallway towards my apartment. It was about ten pm and I was dead to the world. All I wanted at that moment was to strip out of my clothes and lay in my bed until the sun came up. I pulled out my keys and froze at the front door, seeming to forget one very important thing.

Oliver was on the other side of this door.

I stood there for a moment, remembering our conversation at his house earlier. Things were definitely going to be awkward now. It would be a miracle if they weren’t. Speaking of awkward, another realization slapped me hard in the face and had me closing my eyes, shaking my head at my own stupidity.

I only had one bed. My bed.

I sighed and pushed the key into the lock. Well then, guess I’m sleeping on the couch.

As I pushed the door open and dreaded the inevitable conversation that was my singular bed, I was immediately met with sounds of music and an aroma of spices. I felt my face frown in confusion. This was definitely not what I expected to come home to.

I dropped my duffel bag just inside the door, as I usually do, and sniffed the air. An involuntary groan escaped my throat and my stomach lurched from a hunger pang I didn’t even know existed until now. I stepped around the wall separating the front door from the kitchen to find Oliver standing in front of the stove, wearing an apron, and shifting the contents of something sizzling in a pan.

The sight reminded me of a couple of days ago when I came downstairs to see him in his kitchen making breakfast. The two parallels pulled my heart in different directions. I really liked Oliver, and that was made more apparent when he kissed me and then we fooled around on his couch. However, it seemed he didn’t like me back based off what he told me following that encounter.

I did a once over of the space as I crossed to the breakfast bar and took a seat on one of the metal stools. No Wolf. Maybe he went home since I was taking so long? He didn’t text though, which is something I would have expected him to do. Maybe it was an emergency or something? Well, I guess I didn’t expect him to stick around all day. One of the reasons I chose my place to move Oliver to was because it was locked down. No one could get in or out without a key fob. Even then, they would still need a key to get into the front door or a battering ram to get through it because of how sturdy it was. There was a reason I chose this place, and it wasn’t just because it reminded me of my loft back in Boston.

Oliver looked over his shoulder, as if sensing my presence, or maybe he heard me come in. Regardless, he didn’t seem very shocked to see me standing there.

“Hey.” He smiled.

“Hey.” I mimicked. I gestured at my living room stereo. “So, you like The Delta Riggs?”

He got a curious look on his face as he moved on to stir some red sauce simmering in a pot. “Is that who this is?”

I snorted in amusement. “Yes, that’s who this is. Oh, but I forgot. You were chained to a radiator in a basement for most of your adult life.”

Oliver rolled his eyes and gave me an expressionless glance. “I wasn’t chained to a radiator in a basement. I was just too into my studies to be bothered with music.”

I studied him for a second, rubbing my hand through my short beard. “Which is what made you the best criminal profiler on the west coast.”

He shrugged nonchalantly, flicked off the burners, and then crossed over to the breakfast bar, resting both hands on the stone surface and meeting my stare. “Someone had to do it.”

I hummed and fought back the grin teasing my lips. I liked this playful side of Oliver. It didn’t seem to come out as much lately, understandably so. I liked to think that I brought it out in him.

“What’s on the menu tonight?”

He shrugged. “Nothing special, just spaghetti.”

“Well, it smells amazing.”

A deep flush rose into his cheeks and a sheepish grin split his lips. I bit my tongue, wanting desperately to reach across the counter and grab him by the back of his neck and kiss him.

“It wasn’t a mistake.” The words spilled out of me before I could catch them.

Oliver went still, his eyes going wide for a split second. “Ethan…” He spoke in a gentle tone. The type of tone that you give someone when you’re about to let them down, or break bad news.

I felt my face get hot out of frustration, but I kept my composure, my tone coming out even. “I understand with everything going on right now that whatever this is,” I gestured between the two of us. “Is the last thing on your mind. I respect that. Don’t call it a mistake though. Because you know damn well it wasn’t one.”

Oliver dipped his head, his expression disappearing from my view. He shifted his weight, as if unsure what to say, or what to do. I took a chance and reached across the breakfast bar, my hand and arm gliding effortlessly over the cool stone surface, and placed my hand gently over his. To my relief, he didn’t pull away. If anything, he seemed to relax into the contact.

Maybe he does like me after all.

“Whatever it is, Ollie, you can talk to me.”

Those hazelnut eyes lifted to meet mine and I could see there was a fight going on behind them. I desperately wanted to reach in and fight that battle for him, but there was a wall that was keeping me out.

Trust me Oliver.

I tried to convey my thoughts through my eyes. Hoping that the message would get across. Hoping he would see that he could confide in me. There was something struggling to get to the surface.

I felt his hand shift under mine and for a split second I panicked, thinking that he was going to move away. That panic was quickly replaced, however, when I realized that he wasn’t breaking the contact and was instead embracing it. He flipped his hand over so our palms were touching, his thumb massaging the back of my hand absently. I stared at our joined hands, my heart galloping wildly in my chest at how intimate the action felt.

“After my parents died, I basically shut everyone out. The only person that seemed to understand me was my Aunt, and even she didn’t break through that much. When I started going to school and studying psychology is when I realized that I was probably suffering from PTSD. All of the nightmares, avoidance, anger, random panic attacks…” He winced and I squeezed his hand out of reassurance. He gave me a half smile and continued to rub his thumb along the back of my hand. “So, I did what any other person who is trying to avoid something does and I buried myself in my studies. I figured that if I focused on school and then later work, then I wouldn’t need to let anybody in and…” He trailed off and dropped his gaze to our joined hands.

“And what?” I prodded gently.

He sighed and lifted his gaze again, there was a glossy appearance to his eyes now, almost like he was about to cry. “And risk losing someone I cared about again.”

I felt a lump lodge itself in my throat and I swallowed hard, trying to get it to go away with no such luck. I thought about a similar person who also had a traumatic past and had to overcome a lot of s**t to get to where he was today. That someone being me.

What could I even say to Oliver to make it better? Our paths were not the same. I had an abusive, alcoholic, piece of s**t for a father, and a mother who died when I was sixteen in a car accident. Oliver had loving parents who were murdered in cold blood and was almost killed himself. The only thing I could do was just be there for him.

I wasn’t good with my words. I was better with actions. With that in mind, I stood up, my hand still joined to Olivers, and stepped around the counter into his space. I brought one of his hands up and rested it over my heart, which was beating with a calm rhythm. I didn’t know if what I was doing would help, but I knew that deep down all humans craved some sort of touch. I figured maybe if Oliver could feel my heart beating, it might calm him, maybe help him bring those walls down for me.

The world around us didn’t seem to matter as we stayed firmly planted in that spot. Oliver seemed to edge in closer to me, replacing his hand with his head and forcing my heart to quicken in pace slightly.

“You have a strong heart.” He spoke absently.

I didn’t respond, instead I wove my arms around him, pulling him tighter into me. I felt his body relax into mine further and my heart soared when I heard him let out a pleasant hum.

Could we just stay like this all night?

My stomach growled and I rolled my eyes at the betrayal my body exhibited. Really stomach? Now you choose to growl during this perfect moment?

“Let’s get you fed before it gets cold.” Oliver chuckled.

He began to pull away from me and my body yelled in protest. I did the only thing that I could think of to keep him firmly against me and planted my lips directly onto his.

Oliver gasped into my mouth and I swallowed it greedily with my tongue, chasing the free fall that I felt from having his lips pressed against mine. This is what it was all about, and I didn’t want him to get away from me so easily.

The kiss began to turn a little wild, our lips seeming to go at lightning speed, our tongues tangling in knots. Oliver nibbled my bottom lip and a moan rumbled through my chest. I gripped his hips firmly in my grasp and he knotted his hands into my shirt, gripping and stretching the fabric.

Then Oliver was pushing me backwards, our lips still connected, and I let out an oof as my back connected hard to the refrigerator.

“s**t, I’m sorry.” Oliver looked at me with concern.

I tilted my head to the side and a grin tugged at the corner of my mouth. “Doctor Reagan, did you just swear?” I had truly never heard Oliver swear before. It was kind of adorable when it came from him.

“What? I can swear sometimes.” He defended.

“Hmm, I think I’m a bad influence on you.” I teased, bringing his mouth to mine again for a lazy kiss.

I felt his lips form into a smile against mine. “I think you might be.”

“We definitely shouldn’t be doing this then.”

“Definitely not.”

I felt Oliver’s hands begin to work my shirt up my torso and I lifted my arms so he could pull it the rest of the way off over my head. My hands found his denim-clad ass and I gave each cheek a squeeze, pulling his body closer to me. I couldn’t seem to get the amount of him that I wanted. I wanted more.

“God Ollie, you drive me fuckin’ crazy.” I groaned into his mouth.

“Show me.”

My eyebrows pinched together and I broke the kiss, locking eyes with him. There was a want and desire behind them, the same look he got when he was pinned underneath me on his living room couch. My c**k swelled with excitement at that memory, forcing me to dig my fingers deeper into his ass.

“Show me how much I drive you crazy.” His voice quacked at the notion.

My heart was pounding in my chest. I brought my forehead down against his, our breathing mixing together. “Are you sure?” I questioned in a husky tone.

I felt stupid asking that question. Oliver seemed fully onboard with the idea. However, after what happened last time, I didn’t know if I could take a rejection like that from him again.

His hands moved up from my stomach and to my chest, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake and causing my breath to catch. His hands stopped at my neck, cradling my head, his thumbs rubbing my jawline.

“I won’t run away again.” He stated, reading my mind completely.

With that statement, I slammed my lips back into his with more passion then ever before. I felt Oliver melt into my arms completely and a soft groan escaped from his lips. Excited by this, a more primal urge took over and I walked him backward into the opposite counter, hoisting him up, and placing him gently on the hard surface.

Oliver’s fingers wove their way into my hair and tugged gently. I groaned in pleasure, my c**k filling more and pressing uncomfortably against the confines of my jeans. However, I ignored my own needs and tried to tap into Oliver’s. I tugged at the hem of his shirt before pulling it over his head and planting my lips gently on his chest. Another soft groan worked it’s way out of him and I grinned against his pec. Found it.

As I was moving towards his n****e, my lips caught a piece of jagged and raised skin. I pulled back to get a better look at it and found a scar, measuring a little over an inch in length and a few centimeters in width. I frowned at it, wondering what it was from and how I didn’t notice it last time.

The realization hit me when I remembered that Oliver had been attacked the night of his parents' murder, and that this must have been where the killer stabbed him. I traced my finger over the rough patch of skin. It was a miracle it missed his heart entirely.

I felt Oliver’s fingers grip my hair a little tighter and his breathing started coming through in short ragged waves. Instinctively, I brought my lips to the scar and pressed a gentle kiss on it, causing Oliver to gasp softly at the contact. I continued my trek towards his n****e, trying to convey caring and protectiveness in every kiss. This wasn’t just about s*x or getting my rocks off. I wanted to take care of him, make him feel special, make him feel wanted and safe.

When I finally reached the pink tender nub of his n****e, I gave it a little flick with my tongue. Oliver arched slightly and let out a strangled moan.

“Fuuuck.”

I grinned at the response and continued teasing his n****e, nibbling on it and flicking my tongue against it. Oliver squirmed against me and his fingers were knotted in my hair so well that every time they twitched it pulled my hair ever slightly, sending a spark of arousal that traveled straight to my groin.

Huh, I liked my hair being pulled. Who knew?

My hands traveled from his sides and down to his waist, where I flicked the button of his jeans open and unzipped them slowly.

“Ethan.” He gasped.

I paused and looked up at him. His face was contorted in pleasure and his lust-filled eyes stared back at me. He was truly a beautiful sight to behold.

“Do you want me to stop?” I asked in a low tone.

He shook his head slowly, giving me the response I so desperately wanted and needed. I hooked my fingers into the waist of his jeans and, with Oliver bracing against my shoulders for support, pulled them down, his underwear going with them.

I took him in for a second, not really getting the opportunity to do so the last time. He had more of a slender frame, but with a little extra in the shoulders, arms, and thighs. His torso was smooth too, however, he had a dusting of dark hair everywhere else.

His c**k bobbed, standing at attention between his legs, and a drop of pre-c*m traveled from his slit down his shaft. I licked my lips, wanting to catch that drop with my tongue. Instead, I reached my hand out, taking his length, and ran my thumb up his shaft, gathering the pre-c*m onto my thumb. Making eye contact with him, I brought my thumb up to my lips and licked his flavor off. It was sweet, yet savory, and the taste made an involuntary moan rumble out of my chest.

I wanted more of it.

Listening to my instincts, I bent over and took his leaking c**k into my mouth.

“Oh, fuck.” Oliver moaned, grabbing fistfuls of my hair again.

I took that as a signal to take him deeper down my throat and swallow around his length, coaxing another moan out of him and also causing him to buck into my mouth, pushing him further down my throat. I gripped his hips and welcomed the thrusts, pulling him further into me while simultaneously activating my gag reflex.

I coughed and sputtered. Oliver acted as if he were going to move away, but I wasn’t having any of that. I gripped his hips harder and pulled him back into me. I never quit, and I wasn’t about to start now.

I took him down again, swirling my tongue around his shaft as I went. The head of his c**k hit the back of my throat and, nothing. No gag, no cough. Pleased at my success, I took that opportunity to milk him with my throat muscles.

“Oh my god.” Oliver shuddered in my hands.

I began to bob up and down, working my tongue around his shaft and head. Every time Oliver shuddered I could taste that sweet and savory flavor of him, and that just caused me to work harder. I wanted to taste the full thing, and I was going to get it out of him.

“E-Ethan.”

I heard his pleads and worked harder, wanting to get him there, wanting him to feel release. I didn’t even have to move his hips into me anymore as he was now using my hair to force me down on him. My eyes were beginning to water, but I blinked through them. Oliver was using my mouth as he saw fit, and I welcomed it.

“Ethan, I’m-I’m…”

A strangled cry erupted from him as he thrust his hips into me one final time, lodging himself in the back of my throat. His c**k pulsed and I was rewarded with that sweet and savory taste I so desperately craved. I massaged him with my throat muscles, coaxing more out of him and causing him to gasp and writhe in pleasure.

I pulled him out of my mouth and looked up at him. He was leaning against the cabinet, a dreamy look in his eyes, and his mouth slack jawed. His chest rose and fell deeply as he came down from his orgasm. I could only stare in awe at how unbelievably sexy he looked at that moment.

He brought his gaze down to mine and a wicked glint formed in his eyes.

“My turn.”

He pushed against my chest and hopped off the counter, forcing me into the fridge yet again. I heard the light clatter of items as they shifted ever so slightly. For being smaller than me, Oliver sure did have power over me. Or maybe I was just willing.

His mouth landed firmly on my chest, kissing and licking its way towards my n****e. His hands made quick work of my belt and then the button of my jeans, and finally the zipper, pulling them down in one swift movement, freeing my aching c**k from its confines.

Oliver stared down at it with a hungry expression and my throat went dry just thinking about his warm mouth enveloping my shaft. His hand wrapped around it, sending sparks of electricity and warmth through my body. Then, his lips found my n****e.

I tossed my head back slightly and moaned at the tingling sensation of pleasure that traveled through me. Oliver bit and sucked at my n****e, the barbell giving a light clink every time his teeth caught it and sending more sparks of pleasure through me at the tugging sensation it caused. His hand worked my c**k thoroughly, building me up to an inevitable climax that I had been holding back for so long.

“Ollie, I-I’m.” I gasped, trying to warn him about the inevitable onslaught that was about to take place.

He removed his hand and I just about cried out in protest, until I saw him drop to his knees and then take my length in his mouth in one swift movement.

“Guh!” I jumped at the change in both sensation and temperature.

The confines of Oliver’s mouth felt warm and velvety against the head of my c**k. I shuddered and trembled as he worked his tongue around me, taking me all the way to the back of his throat, and then massaging me with his throat muscles as I had done to him.

“Oh f**k. Ollie I’m gonna-“ My voice was strangled as I felt the onslaught returning, showing itself as a warmth in my groin and quickly spreading to a tingling sensation that traveled through my balls.

I tossed my head back and a growl escaped from my throat as my c**k pulsed in Oliver’s mouth. He drank and lapped up every drop of my c*m I gave him, moaning in pleasure as he did so. When my orgasm was over, he pulled me out of his mouth with a lewd popping sound and I slowly sank to the floor feeling like a pad of melted butter.

My breathing was quick and deep, coming down from the intense pleasure that I just felt. Oliver had completely undone me and exposed me down to the very last fiber. I was now naked in front of him in every sense of the term.

“Is your head okay?” He asked, straddling my legs and placing his hands gently on either side of my head.

“Wha?” I asked, still slightly dazed. I felt a dull ache in the back of my skull, but it didn’t hurt.

“It sounded like you hit it pretty hard.” He explained with a slight undertone of amusement.

I nodded my head with a weak chuckle and grabbed one of his hands in mine, placing a tender kiss against the palm. “I’m fine.”

Everything about that moment was perfect. Having Oliver straddling me like that, both of us coming down from our orgasms. I was truly happy at that moment. However, there was an intrusive thought that kept nudging it’s way into the forefront of my mind, which I tried to push back, but didn’t seem to be successful.

He’s gonna freak out.

I waited for the inevitable realization of what just happened to rear its ugly head in Oliver. Instead, he shocked me in the best possible way and leaned down, planting his lips on mine. Was my own fear showing and he saw it?

The kiss was tender and smooth, signifying that there was more behind it. Instead of the frantic movements of tongue, lips, and teeth that was experienced earlier, this one had a sense of adoration behind it that had my heart soaring. When he broke the kiss, he gazed into my eyes and the look I saw was one that I hadn’t seen before in him. It almost looked like longing.

“What was that for?” I asked.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I told you, I won’t run away again.”

My heart began to race and I could feel a large smile working its way out of me. “Yeah?”

He leaned down and kissed me again, this one with more emphasis, as if to get his point across. I could feel him smile against my lips as he spoke again.

“Yeah.”