A/N Thank you to everyone who is reading this story, and thanks for the great reviews so far. Glad to hear that it's being enjoyed. There is a little more citrus in this chapter and then the drama begins!

CHAPTER TEN

We got out of the bed shortly after and shared the shower again, although this time nothing happened except that we washed ourselves and teased each other a little. However, hunger drove us to hurry and get dressed before heading out to find food. Paul told me that he normally ate oatmeal or something similar for breakfast, but he figured we would have brunch at his favourite diner instead.

The traditional diner was two blocks away and we sipped coffee while we waited for our order of sausage, bacon, eggs and hash browns with a side order of biscuits and gravy. We took our time over the meal and lingered afterwards with more coffee.

"What do you usually do Sundays?" I asked.

"I work out for a while, but I guess we did plenty of that already," he smirked. "It's the one day I get to relax and not do much. Sometimes I go to the movies or just hang out in my apartment or at friends'. I don't suppose you ever get to do that."

"Not often." I let out a sigh as I thought about Leah and Sarah at her parents' house. Usually I would have been working Sunday, but after finishing early I would spend a few hours with Sarah before she went to bed. My phone beeped at that moment and I removed it from my pocket to read the text. It was from Sarah, telling me she missed me and asking how work was. I cringed, wondering how to reply without lying to my daughter as well. I didn't look at Paul, who had taken the opportunity to ask for the check and was pulling some cash out of his wallet to pay.

"Sorry, it's my daughter," I said.

"You don't have to explain yourself to me. You're still married." He sounded strained and I quickly tapped out a reply, saying simply that I missed her and I hoped she was enjoying spending time with her grandparents; then I shoved the phone back into my pocket.

"Probably not for much longer," I told Paul quietly.

"How do you know that?" His brows drew together in a slight frown.

"You know I'm going to tell my wife I'm gay; that I can't continue the way we are."

"That doesn't mean she'll just walk away, or let you go. You have a kid to think about." He got up from the table and I followed quickly as he began to make his way to the door. We started to walk back in the direction of the apartment and I almost groaned as my phone alerted me to another message. I ignored it for the moment.

"Paul, I know things are complicated, but I know what I want," I said firmly.

"You say you do. What happens when either your wife takes your girl away from you, or she fights for you? Look, you know I want you; I made it obvious enough by not being able to walk away, but I can't see how this is ever going to work out well."

"So what do you want me to do? Walk away from you as well?" I asked, irritated that suddenly the mood was spoiled, although I understood where he was coming from. I hadn't been able to give him any guarantees; I still couldn't as much as I might want to. We reached the apartment block and my phone beeped insistently as we waited for the elevator.

"No, I don't, but you know how I feel about this. You're not free to be with me and as much as I want you to be, right now it's not going to happen. Are you going to answer your phone?"

"Damnit," I muttered, pulling the phone out again. I felt a little sick suddenly and my heart was racing. I almost felt that he was about to ask me to forget the rest of the day and go home and I forced myself to read Sarah's message about what they were doing that day and send her a reply. I felt horribly guilty that I wasn't giving her the time she deserved. I should have called her, chatted about what she was doing, told her how I missed her and asked about Leah, but I was torn. Paul was tense, fists clenched and I couldn't tell if he was actually angry or just upset. I put the phone away again, hoping I wouldn't receive any more messages and followed him into the elevator.

"What do you actually think's going to happen, Jake? After you tell your wife, assuming you go ahead with it. You think you or she will move out and it'll all be fine? It won't; I've seen this type of thing happen before, not with a guy in the middle, but that doesn't matter. Maybe you and her will fight, maybe you won't, but you'll feel like shit about it, especially with regard to your kid. I just think if you make any assurances to me, you're going to wish you hadn't."

"What are you saying? Do you want me to leave?"

"No...I don't want you to fucking leave, Jacob, I just want you to be realistic about this. You seem to think by next week we'll be...I don't know...together."

"I don't think that." I stepped off the elevator first and waited for him to unlock the apartment door. "We already talked about that, didn't we? I know more or less how I'm gonna feel and it's gonna be shit. We're going to need time..."

"Yeah."

"But I know how I feel about you," I went on. "Being with you just feels...right. It's what I want and somehow, I'll make it happen. Paul..." I moved towards him and rested my hands on his neck, bring our faces close together and meeting his eyes. "I'm not under the illusion this will work out over night, but if you feel the same way, then we will be together one day."

His arms slid around me, much to my relief and he rested his forehead against mine. "I feel the same way," he murmured.

"You wanted to keep things casual," I reminded him, my heart fluttering at his words.

"Can't." He pulled his head back a little, turned it at a slight angle to mine and brought our lips together, caressing mine slowly with his own until I heard myself moan, my heart pounding urgently in my chest. He deepened the kiss gradually, his tongue seeking mine and stroking sensuously over it, heat building between us as we tasted and explored each other's mouths, my arms folding around him to bring him even closer to me.

I felt my cock begin to stir, filling quickly and pressing against the front of my pants, feeling the answering nudge of his hardness as he shifted his position slightly and ran a hand down my back to my butt. I groaned again, the sound muffled by his tongue and I gyrated my hips, rubbing myself against him. He slowed the kiss and withdrew his tongue until only our lips touched and I whispered against them, everything else forgotten once again.

"Take me to bed. I want you right now...please..."

He drew back and opened his eyes, then grasped my hand in his and walked into his room, drawing me along with him and closing the door behind us. We undressed each other slowly, one piece of clothing at a time, taking our time with buttons and zippers rather than having the usual urgent fumbling as we struggled to get naked as fast as possible. This was different and I relished each light brush of Paul's fingers as he removed something; each touch of my own on his skin as I did the same. At last the final item of clothing was on the floor and we went to the bed, lay down facing each other and moved into each other's arms.

We took our time with everything, more than we ever had before. Lack of time and desperation for each other had always made things happen in a rush, even if we tried to make it last, but this time it was different. We stroked each other teasingly, fingertips gliding up and down spines, over hips and thighs, our hard cocks pushing against each other and our lips continuing to exchange warm little kisses. When I stroked a hand over Paul's chest I felt his heart thudding rapidly in time with my own and I paused to play with the nipple ring, tugging and twisting it, making him groan and curse, feeling pre-cum ooze from him onto my belly. His hand slid lower down my back, then around to my hip, guiding my leg into a bent position with the knee raised so that he could touch between my legs from behind me. I shuddered as the tips of his fingers explored my ass crack, running up and down slowly. He paused to reach for the lube and coat his fingers, then resumed stroking in the same way, circling my hole, dipping just the end of one finger into me every so often.

I took my hand off of him and grabbed the lube, squeezing some onto my own hand so that I could touch him in the same way, light teasing little touches, occasionally pushing more firmly on his perineum, slipping the very tip of one finger into him and then out again.

"Fuck," he muttered. His cock throbbed against mine and I stopped what I was doing and slid my hand between us instead, wrapping it around his shaft and my own at the same time, rubbing them together. His finger pushed deeper into me and began to thrust slowly in and out and my leaking pre-cum lubricated us both further as I captured it with my palm and spread it around. He groaned and his mouth covered mine again in a firmer, more urgent kiss as he added a second finger, sliding it in carefully alongside the first and pumping both, stretching me. I moaned around his tongue, removing my hand from between us, not wanting things to be over too quickly the way they usually were.

Paul's fingers continued preparing me, a third eventually joining the other two, although he broke the kiss again, panting for breath. I rocked against him, moving with each thrust of his fingers and longing for him to replace them with his cock. I knew it was going to be different this time; it didn't feel like fucking any more - it was making love; something that I'd never experienced with a man before.

"Paul..." I gasped eventually. "I'm ready...I need you in me...now..."

He withdrew his fingers slowly with a soft, wet sound and I snagged the condom packet from the bed table, opened it and backed away from him a few inches while I rolled the rubber onto him. I had never even considered it before, but now I wondered what it would be like without a condom between us - if I could feel his flesh, his heat, the wetness when he came. Maybe one day, I thought, when we were together properly.

"How do you want to do this?" he murmured. "Any preference?"

"Like this." I rolled onto my back, pulling both knees up and letting them fall apart, exposing myself while my cock quivered and leaked onto my stomach. Paul sat up briefly, picking up the lube again to coat himself in it, then lowered himself between my thighs, one forearm resting beside me to support his weight while he guided himself. I tilted my hips up and immediately felt him push against me, the head of his cock slipping easily into me. As always, he held still for a moment, but then drove forward with one long smooth thrust, bringing his hips flush with mine and burying his length deep within me.

"Fuck," I groaned, rolling my head back on the pillow. I slid my arms around him, holding onto him tightly as we lay together, not moving for a long moment, my cock trapped between us and his filling and stretching me. At last we began to move together, slowly at first, our lips reconnecting in another deep and heated kiss, tongues thrusting against each other, soft groans issuing from us both until we were forced to stop to breathe. Paul lifted himself up a little, his cock withdrawing further and plunging harder into me with each snap of his hips, his upper body weight supported by one arm as he slid the other between us and wrapped his hand around my quivering shaft, stroking it in time with our movements.

My eyes were closed, but I forced them open again and looked up, meeting his gaze, pupils blown and brows drawn together. His lips were parted as he gasped for breath and cursed every so often, but he held the eye contact as he drove both of us towards orgasm. It was intense; heated, sensual and somehow almost desperate, but not the kind of desperation we had felt before when we needed to come so badly we couldn't stand it. I almost felt as if somehow it were the last time we would be together and I supposed that were true, at least for some while, and it seemed as if we unconsciously savoured each push and thrust, each sensation, each touch, even more than usual, knowing we would soon part.

I love you.

I only thought it. He was right when he said I wasn't free to say it, but I longed to be able to whisper how I felt into his ear; hear him repeat those words to me. From the way he was with me in those few minutes and the look in his eyes, I was at least reasonably sure that the feeling was mutual and that one day I would hear him say it.

He took his hand off of me now and braced both on the mattress instead, driving himself harder into me as we approached the finish together and I removed one hand from his back and grasped myself firmly, pumping my cock urgently in time with each plunge of his into me.

"Fuck...so close..." Paul panted. "Want you to come first..."

"Almost there," I grunted. My balls were full and tight against my body, heat building in my groin and the pit of my stomach, the feel of his length dragging over my prostate pushing me closer to the edge. I jerked myself harder and tipped over, shooting my load onto my chest and clenching tighter around Paul as his hips began to roll and jerk erratically, a string of breathless curses issuing from his lips as he pulsed inside me and filled the condom. I slid my hand out from between us again, wiped it on the bedding and then laid my arm around his waist as he let his weight sink onto me, his face in my neck and forehead resting on the pillow. We lay panting, skin slick with sweat, Paul's cock gradually softening and slipping out of me. He reached down slowly to grab the condom and dispose of it, then lay still again, his heart pounding frantically in time with mine.

"God, Paul," I groaned.

"I know."

It was the closest we came to sharing how we felt and I only hoped that it wouldn't be too long before we would be together again. When I remembered how much I had longed for him before this weekend, I dreaded leaving without knowing when we would be able to see each other again.

Eventually Paul peeled himself off of me and slid off the bed, walking silently into the bathroom to shower. I got up too and joined him and we washed ourselves slowly, then dried off and dressed. Paul switched on the television and we sprawled out together on the couch for a while, watching some movie that I didn't really pay much attention to. We didn't talk, but it was different from the awkward silence between us in Paul's hotel in New York. This time we just enjoyed each other's company, making the afternoon last as long as possible until at last I pulled away from him and sat up. Initially we had intended for me to stay until Monday morning, but it seemed as if the time had come to bring things to an end and the longer I stayed, the harder it would get.

"I was thinking...I should go back tonight," I said slowly. "Avoid the commuters tomorrow."

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea," he nodded.

"I'll get my things together." I got up and collected the few items of clothing and toiletries which were scattered about, checked that I had phone, wallet and keys and then there was nothing more for me to do except say goodbye and head out the door.

"I'll drive you to the station," Paul said then and quickly jumped up, shoving his feet into a pair of running shoes.

"You don't have to."

"No, I want to."

My heart began to pound and my stomach clenched with the thought of getting on the train and leaving. How did I fall for him so fast and so hard, I wondered? I was hurting already and he was still with me yet, driving the BMW the short distance to the station and parking up in the lot outside. It had been one chance meeting in Quentin's not so very long ago; one that I hadn't been able to walk away from when he enticed me onto the dancefloor and in just a few weeks he had come to mean so much to me. I was about to go home and end my marriage and although it was mostly about me - my unhappiness with my situation as I struggled to suppress my desire for guys - I knew I wouldn't be doing this if I hadn't met Paul. I would have carried on, hiding who I really was, making do with a few snatched moments over the years as I convinced myself I was still being a good husband and father and that I was happy with the way things were.

"We're here."

Paul's voice broke into my thoughts and I shook myself. "Yeah. I didn't check the train times, but I know there's one about every hour or so."

"Less on Sundays. You want me to wait with you?"

"No." I released my seatbelt and turned towards him.

"Let me know how things go," he said and I nodded.

"It'll be next weekend, I guess; Friday or Saturday. I'll talk to you before then though."

"Sure."

"Paul..." I leaned closer and raised my hand to touch his face. He hesitated a moment and then his lips met mine in a hard, almost fierce kiss, crushing my lips against my teeth. Then he drew back quickly.

"You better go."

"Yeah." I grabbed my bag from the floor between my feet and shoved the door open. "Goodbye, Paul."

He nodded, but didn't speak and I slid out of the car and closed the door again, taking a deep breath. It was over. For the moment, it was over. I turned away and strode into the station, trying unsuccessfully to swallow the lump in my throat. I checked the train times and was relieved to find that one was due to leave in around fifteen minutes. It was already in the station and I bought a ticket and boarded. There were many empty seats and I picked one and folded myself into it, turning my head to face the window although I closed my eyes rather than looking out.

I tried not to think too much, but it was impossible not to. My heart hurt and my eyes burned behind my eyelids and I supposed I could afford to wallow for a little while. I would arrive home in a few hours to an empty apartment, where I could fall into bed alone and not have to try to be myself, whatever that was. I had several days before Leah and Sarah came back and by then, I knew I would have gotten myself together and then would come the conversation I had been dreading; the one where I told Leah the truth.

The journey seemed endless and by the time I reached New York it was dark. I took the subway to the nearest station to the apartments and found my keys as I walked the last few yards and let myself into the building. I was exhausted and sad and I wondered if I should just go straight to bed and call Paul to say goodnight. I wanted to hear his voice again, even just for a few minutes, to tell him how much I enjoyed being with him over the weekend.

I thought about what we had done Saturday - the ballgame, the restaurant, then the club - and I could imagine my life being like that, with him. I had felt happy to be me and it would be easy to get used to that. I punched the button in the elevator and leaned against the side of the car as it began to rise swiftly, watching the red numbers on the screen counting upwards until it reached the top and halted, the doors springing open. It was just a few more feet to my door and I switched my bag from one shoulder to the other and sought out the correct key from the bunch, pushing it into the lock. It was the first time I had arrived home since I moved us into this amazing apartment, where I wished I was somewhere else.

The minute I pushed the door open, the hair stood up on the back of my neck. There was a light on in the lounge room, although there was no sound and I frowned to myself, wondering if I could have left it on when I set off Saturday morning, but quickly dismissing the idea. It had been daylight - there had been no need for a light. I walked slowly to the open door, my heart beginning to pound and sweat breaking out along my spine. I wiped damp palms on my jeans as I stepped through the door, licking my lips nervously. I wasn't ready for this; I hadn't thought anything through and I didn't yet know what I was going to say; how I was going to act; how I could possibly start to tell my wife that I was gay.

Leah was curled up at one end of the couch with an open book resting on her lap, which she didn't appear to be reading. She raised her head now and met my shocked gaze with a frosty stare.

"You're back, then." She dropped her eyes to the bag on my shoulder and carefully placed a marker in her book before she put it aside on the occasional table next to the couch. "Perhaps you'd like to tell me where the hell you've been."