"Because..."
In that moment, as their eyes met, Qhuinn knew it was time. He'd blown so much with Blay; there had been so many missteps and deliberate misunderstandings, so many years, so many denials - all on his part. He'd pussied out for so long, but that was over.
As he opened his mouth to speak the three words on his tongue, Blay's eyes grew hard. "I don't need your help, okay? I can take care of myself."
Pound. Pound. Pound.
His heart was thumping so loud, he wondered if it was going to explode.
"You're going to stay with him," Qhuinn said numbly. "You're going to - "
"You don't pull that shit with Saxton - not ever again. Swear to it."
Even though it killed him, Qhuinn was powerless to deny the guy anything. "Okay." He lifted his palms. "Hands off."
Blay nodded, the deal sealed.
"I just want to help you," Qhuinn said. "That's all."
"You can't," Blay countered.
God, even though they were once again at odds, he craved more contact - and abruptly, he saw the pathway to exactly that. Tricky proposition, but at least there was some internal logic to it.
His arms lifted, his hands seeking, finding, latching on. Blay's shoulders. Blay's neck.
Sex surged in him, hardening his cock, making him pant. "But I can help you."
"How?"
Qhuinn edged in close, bringing his mouth right to Blay's ear. Then he deliberately put his bare chest against Blay's. "Use me."
"What?"
"Teach him a lesson." Qhuinn tightened his hold and tilted Blay's head back. "Pay him back the right way. With me."
To make things crystal clear, Qhuinn extended his tongue and ran it up the side of Blay's throat.
The hiss in response was loud as a curse.
Blay punched into him, shoving him back. "Have you lost your f**king mind?"
Qhuinn cupped his heavy, hard sex. "I want you. And I'll take you any way I can - even if it's only to get back at my cousin."
Blay's expression played table tennis between utter disbelief and epic anger.
"You f**king ass**le! You turn me down for years, and then all of a sudden do a one-eighty? What the f**k is wrong with you!"
With his free hand, Qhuinn played with one of his nipple rings - and focused on what was doing at Blay's hip level: Underneath that robe, the male became fully erect, that terry cloth no match for the likes of that kind of hard-on.
"Are you out of your goddamn mind! What the f**k!?"
Usually Blay didn't curse or raise his voice. It was a turn-on to see him lose it.
Locking his eyes on his friend's, Qhuinn slowly sank down onto his knees. "Let me take care of that - "
"What?"
He leaned forward and tugged at the bottom of the robe, pulling it toward him. "Come here. Let me show you how I do."
Blay grabbed the tie that kept the two halves together, and yanked it tighter. "What the hell are you doing?"
God, the fact that he was on his knees, begging, seemed only appropriate. "I want to be with you. I don't give a shit why - just let me be with you - "
"After all this time? What's changed?"
"Everything."
"You're with Layla - "
"No. I'll say it however many times you need to hear it - I'm not with her."
"She's pregnant."
"One time. I was with her once, and just like I told you, it was only because I want a family and so does she. One time, Blay, and never again."
Blay's head fell back, his eyes closing as if someone were driving spikes under his fingernails. "Don't do this to me, for God's sake, you can't do this - " As his voice gave out, the anguish was a sad insight into all the problems Qhuinn had caused. "Why now? Maybe it's you who wants to get back at Saxton - "
"Fuck my cousin, it's got nothing to do with him for me. If you were alone, I'd still be right on this carpet, on my knees, wanting to be with you. If you were mated to a female, if you were dating someone all casual and shit, if you were in a million different places in life...I'd still be right here. Begging you for something, anything - one time, if that's all you've got."
Qhuinn reached out again, going under the robe, stroking a strong, muscled leg - and when Blay stepped back again, he knew he was losing the battle.
Shit, he was going to lose this chance if he didn't -
"Look, Blay, I've done a lot of shitty things in my life, but I've always kept it real. I almost died tonight - and that sets a male straight. Up there in that airplane, looking over the dark night, I didn't think I was going to make it. Everything got clear for me. I want to be with you because of that."
Actually, he'd known a f**k of a lot sooner, waaaaaaaay before the Cessna situation, but he was hoping the explanation made sense to Blay.
Maybe it did. In response, the guy weaved on his feet, as if he were going to give in - or leave. There was no telling which one it was.
Qhuinn rushed to get more words out. "I'm sorry I've wasted so much time - and if you don't want to be with me, I get it. I'll back off - I'll live with the consequences. But for the love of God, if there's a chance - for whatever reason on your side - revenge, curiosity...hell, even if you'll let me f**k you just once and never, ever again, for the sole reason of driving a stake through my heart? I'll take it. I'll take you...any way I can get you."
He reached out a third time, snaking his hand around the back of Blay's leg. Stroking. Pleading. "I don't care what it costs me...."
Chapter Twenty-seven
Looming over Qhuinn, Blay was preternaturally aware of everything around him: the feel of Qhuinn's hand on the back of his thigh, the way the hem of the robe brushed against his calf, the scent of sex thickening the air.
In so many ways, he had wanted this his whole life - or at least ever since he'd survived his transition and had any sexual impulse at all. This moment was the culmination of countless daydreams and innumerable fantasies, his secret desire made manifest.
And it was honest: Qhuinn's mismatched eyes were without shadows - or doubts. The male was not only speaking the God's honest as he knew it in his heart; he was at peace with laying himself vulnerable like this.
Blay closed his lids briefly. This submission was the opposite of everything that defined Qhuinn as a male. He never surrendered - not his principles, not his weapons, never, ever himself. Then again, the turnaround did make some kind of sense. Facing death did tend to be followed by a come-to-Jesus chaser....
The trouble was, he had a feeling this wasn't going to last. This "eye-opener" was undoubtedly tied to that plane ride, but as with a heart attack victim resuming his piss-poor diet soon afterward, the "revelation" probably didn't have a long shelf life. Yeah, Qhuinn meant what he was saying in this heady moment - there was no doubting that. It was hard to believe it was permanent, however.