Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 8

the feel of that prickly stubble that always started to grow from mid-afternoon. Beneath him, Harlan groaned and arched his back, his breath quickening as Nathan's hands caressed, touched, and squeezed all that hard, perfectly defined muscle that Nathan couldn't get enough of. He loved that he didn't have to hold himself back with Harlan. Sometimes he could get a little rough, but that just seemed to get Harlan even hotter under the collar.
    Harlan's arm came up over his head and Nathan took hold of his wrist, turning it so he could get a better look at his lover's forearm. He never tired of seeing the neatly scripted black letters tattooed onto Harlan's tanned skin from his elbow down to his wrist. It wasn't the only tattoo Harlan had, but it was by far the one that meant the most.
    "I still can't believe you did it," Nathan said quietly, running his fingers lovingly over the words: I am my beloved's .
    "It's just as true now as when I had it done, which considering how long ago it was, should have had you convinced by now." The amusement and affection in Harlan's voice was unmistakable. Nathan released Harlan's arm and kissed him again. Their need for each other was no less than it had been minutes ago, but it had softened into something else. Each kiss was savored, each tender caress noted. Nathan rarely had the patience for taking things slow. He liked it fast and hard, but there were occasions when he gave into his goofy side and let Harlan make love to him.
    Harlan rolled them over, his heavy weight comforting and safe. He let Harlan kiss him, let him stroke him, let his fingers enter him and send the most delicious currents racing through his body. He shut his eyes as Harlan disappeared for the briefest amount of time to get lubricant from the nightstand. It wasn't long until he had Harlan inside him and they had started a steady rhythm.
    Harlan thrust tenderly and carefully, his lips always on some part of Nathan. There was nothing in the air but the sounds of their breathing and the little noises that only Harlan was capable of drawing out of him. Nathan had his legs around Harlan's waist, his fingers digging into his lover's back as everything else faded away, leaving nothing but the dizzying feel of skin against skin and the taste of Harlan on his tongue.
    He took himself in hand, his pace quickening to match Harlan's thrusts. With a snap of Harlan's hips, Nathan surrendered to his release, and within seconds, Harlan followed, collapsing onto him. They held each other, the night air soon cooling their heated bodies. Nathan tapped Harlan on the shoulder not long after, the signal for his much heavier lover to roll off him.
    Getting up, he went to the bathroom and made quick work of cleaning himself up before turning on the gramophone and climbing into bed. Harlan was on his side fighting to stay awake as he waited for Nathan, and as soon as Nathan was under the covers beside him, Harlan pulled him into his arms.
    Hours went by while Nathan stared up at the ceiling listening to the soft lyrics of William Frawley's ballad, My Melancholy Baby, when Harlan gave a start beside him. It was rare for Harlan to have nightmares after they had sex. There was no doubt in Nathan's mind it was due to seeing that hood aiming to plug Nathan's back at Shifty's saloon that had Harlan in a fit tonight.
    Carefully, he climbed out of bed and crossed his arms over his chest to fight off the chill in the night air. "Harley," Nathan whispered hoarsely. "Wake up. Come on, fella. Wake up for me." He continued to gently call out Harlan's name from the side of the bed, his heart breaking as it always did when he had to stand idly by, waiting for Harlan to wake himself. Physical contact was out of the question. Most of the time, Harlan woke up swinging and it took him a few minutes to orientate himself. After Nathan had tried to wake him up once and Harlan had ended up choking him to the point of near unconsciousness, they had agreed it was best to do it this way.
    A few excruciating minutes later, Harlan bolted upright with a gasp, his hands out in front of him in an attempt to keep whatever it was that he'd been struggling with at bay. He blinked a few times, his chest rising and falling rapidly as his pulse slowly began to steady. His brow was beaded with sweat and he shook his head a little before looking around the room. When he saw Nathan, he stared at him with uncertainty.
    "Nate?"
    "Yeah, it's me."
    "Are you…"
    "I'm alive,"