Page 94 of Stealing Home

Gavin came with a muffled groan, his cock pulsing against Dom’s tongue. Dom swallowed and kept his mouth on him until Gavin gently tugged at his hair.

“Too much,” he managed.

Dom released him slowly and sat back on his heels. For several seconds, Gavin only stared at him. Dom wiped the corner of his mouth with his thumb.

“What?”

Gavin dragged a hand over his face. “Come here.”

Dom pushed himself to his feet, but before he could sit beside him, Gavin caught him around the waist and pulled him back onto his lap. He kissed Dom hard, apparently unconcerned with tasting himself on Dom’s tongue.

The monitor crackled, and they broke apart at the same time. Lucia made a small, restless sound. On the screen, she turned her head and rubbed one fist against her cheek before settling again. Gavin rested his forehead against Dom’s shoulder and took a few deep breaths before shifting Dom to the couch next to him. Once he’d tucked his dick away and zipped up his jeans, Dom settled against his side. Gavin wrapped an arm around him and pressed a kiss to his temple.

“Better?” he asked.

“Much.”

Gavin tightened his arm around him. “Good.”

Dom slipped an arm across Gavin’s stomach and let himself relax into the warmth of his body. He felt Gavin stretch, and then the TV clicked on. Dom let his eyes close as the weight of Gavin’s arm kept him grounded.

17

GAVIN

Three weeks after Dom climbed into his lap and thoroughly ruined Gavin’s ability to think, Gavin had learned the sounds of Dom’s house almost as well as he knew those of his own apartment. He knew the rhythm of Dom’s footsteps overhead when Lucky fought sleep and the rush of water through the pipes when he took five minutes to shower. He knew the hum of the bottle warmer, the soft crackle of the baby monitor, and the particular silence that settled over the living room when Dom watched video from a game.

When Dom was home, Gavin spent more evenings at the house than at his apartment. Most of them weren’t dates in any traditional sense. Gavin worked on estimates at the island while Dom folded impossibly tiny clothes or prepared bottles for the next day. Other nights, Gavin pulled him close and kissed him until whatever Dom had intended to accomplish was forgotten. He liked those nights. God, he liked the kissing. But he liked the rest of it just as much.

He liked hearing Dom have one-sided arguments with a five-month-old who refused to keep her socks on. He liked the way Dom moved around the kitchen without thinking, opening the refrigerator with one hand and shifting Lucia higher on his hip with the other. He liked working at the island while Dom sat at the opposite end, studying game film, knowing they didn’t have to fill every minute to make being together worth the drive. He didn’t like that Dom didn’t believe this was perfect.

One night, Dom apologized for the third time after leaving Gavin alone at the kitchen island while he tried to settle Lucia.

Gavin looked up from his computer. “Stop.”

Dom paused at the bottom of the stairs, the monitor in one hand. “Okay, that was a little rude.”

“So is constantly apologizing like I didn’t know you had a baby before I came over.” Gavin closed the laptop. “I came here to be with you. This is your life, Dom. You don’t need to apologize for it, and I don’t need you to change anything to make me still want to spend as much time as I can with you.”

Dom went very still, and for one uneasy second, Gavin thought he’d said too much. That happened around Dom more often than it should. He tried to be careful with his words, but every once in a while, the truth escaped without his permission.

Dom set the monitor beside the folded laundry. “I know you don’t.”

“Are you sure?”

His mouth tightened. “I’m getting there.”

Gavin studied him. Dom had gotten better at accepting help without treating it like proof he was failing as a father. He let Gavin warm bottles now, and twice he’d gone to shower and handed Lucky over without first explaining where everything was and how long he would be gone. But some part of him still seemed convinced that every minute Gavin spent alone was a debt Dom would eventually have to repay.

“I’m not keeping score,” Gavin said.

“I know that too.” Dom moved to stand between Gavin’s knees, and his hands rose automatically to rest on Dom’s hips. “You’re being very reasonable. It’s irritating.”

“I can be less reasonable if that would help,” Gavin offered. The corner of his mouth quirked up.

Dom curled his fingers into the front of Gavin’s shirt. “It might.”

Gavin let Dom pull him forward, but before their mouths met, he rested one hand against Dom’s jaw. “Letting me in doesn’t mean giving her less.”