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Man, we Need To Talk. I had thought that I had a handle on things, that the uncomfortable dance that we were doing around each other would fade, and we could go back to what we were before we were lovers. Was not going to happen.
I do not know if I should be wiged out or happy, that Jim spied on me, and found me that night. All that I know is that I am back in his bed. And for the Most part, happy about it.
That first night, wow. We left his truck and headed back to the loft. It was as though the separation of the few minutes that it would take for him to get in his truck and drive there would destroy the fragile hold that he had on me at that moment. Perhaps it would have. If I could have had time to think, remember, what the past mounts had been like, the rants, and control, and suspicion, and pain, perhaps I would have found some way to resist him. I have never seen Jim cry. Not when His best friend died, or the Shaman, His guide. Or when I died. or when any thing that would touch a normal man, he has never cried. This was no different. All that he did was lick the tears from my face. I was undone. His gentleness is so unexpected, and overwhelming, when it happens, it is hard to resist. Anger. Rage. Fear based choices. But he has never cried. I asked him if he cried once. Not since his mother left. His father just was cold to him and told him to suck it up. Bastard. Walls. Abandonment. Unable to trust. The Loss of his mother, and emotionally his Father at the same time. Oh God ... what have I gotten my self back into? If I were still doing my dissertation, I would have been able to do an another paper on this control need alone. But I was the one that he needed to control. Dam. I loved him. Trying to drive with his arm around my shoulder heading back to the loft, His hand tangled in my hair, growing back at long last after the academe days. I had missed that closeness. His heat. His strength. His Control. And Mister No PDA with the arm around my shoulder going into the loft, Holding me to him. I should have pushed him away, or demanded some space. Instead, my arm was around his waist, holding him as tightly as he was holding me. We should have talked. I know we should have talked. It is kind of hard to talk when someone has there tong down your throat, or when you are picked up like some new bride and carried over the thresh hold, and up a flight of stairs. He was kissing me. Melting me. And my body, despite its release just a short time age betrayed me.
He undressed me, slowly, touching and kissing and stroking each part of me. Treating me like some fragile breakable blown glass egg. He has been tender in the past. This went all beyond that. It was hard to equate the anger stubborn tough cop with this lover. I even remember asking "Who are you and what have you done with Jim Elision?" I whispered it, but I know that he heard me. I was distracted at that point his hot mouth working its way up the inside of my thighs, kissing back and forth, working his way up to... Dam it. I let him get away with it. He seduced me back into his bed. He used my need and pain once more to get what he wanted. Oh he had tried it before. Before we were lovers, and he wanted me to drive a rig with a madman, (Oh yes the simple days.. before I was a cop) and it was all that I could do but stand up for my self. I told him no. I did that then. Then Mom showed up. And it was more important to tell my mom no, and pleasing Jim than what little self-preservation I had left then. He knew me far too well. Fingers traced the happy trail, up my chest to the sensitive nipples, playing with the ring, tugging and turning me on, stroking from belly to chest with the back of his hand and nails, with long sweeping strokes, covering as much of my flesh with his long arms as two people could. And with his talented Mouth, he was attacking me, licking and nipping, circling like a shark my now aroused manhood. He blew hot breath then cold up and down my spike, random touches with his cheek and short soft hair, wondering, raining kisses and nibbling across my hips, sliding his hands under my ass, kneading and cupping, guiding me. Touching me every place but my cock. I know he wanted me to beg. Or ask, Or something. He wanted control back. I could not do that. It would put us back were we were. In a moment of crystal clarity, it came to me. Control. Jim needed it. But did he have to be the one that had it? Simon. I know that he and Simon were lovers at one point. And Simon was a dom. To be a Captain of the gang at the squad, you had to be. Suddenly it was clear. The thread of what We were to each other. I had been was and still am his Guide. I have been in charge the whole time. I needed to take charge now. Jim had been getting out of control. This was the only choice that I could come up with.
We have been buddies for a long time. And even the sex had been Guy sex. A little rough, some times done as a joke almost, like using the excuse of ... saving water in the shower, or trading Blow jobs in Lou of doing the dishes, always fun, until Jim started getting possessive.
Rules. His life was about rules. I took a deep breath, and reach down to drag him up beside me. The Game Was About To Change.
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