No Will To Resist
“I'm testin' my resistance
And it's wearin' mighty thin
I've got the feelin' I should leave
Before the roof caves in
My mind tells me to move along
But my body begs me stay
And now I feel the need to hold you close
And love the night away.”
- Every Which Way But Loose, EDDIE RABBIT
“What are you still doing here?” The box had touched down on the counter top a few minutes ago, and yet Noble remained in Jonah's kitchen. The shower was still running, he had time left to get out. He struggled to resist the images battling inside his head as he listened to the running water on the second floor. His pulse was still racing, hadn't slowed even a single notch since Jonah had come up behind him on the porch.
'Guess Who?' Warm hands covering his eyes. Soft lips on his ear.
What was he trying to prove by staying? That he was strong enough to resist his attraction to Jonah? That he wasn't really attracted to the guy at all?
That's why you about had a meltdown just staring at his ass?
“Get out of here, man.” Noble groaned. “There's no way you're ready to face him alone. And you know it.” Still, the most he got out of his feet was a slight, anxious shift. He had called last night to apologize. Just get it out of the way, once and for all. He would stay just long enough to explain the phone call – so the man didn't get the wrong idea about why he had called.
He ignored the tiny voice laughing at him somewhere deep in the back of his mind – whether God or the devil, it was anyone's guess – and searched out a cup and filled it with coffee. He leaned against the counter at the farthest point in the kitchen from the doorway.
Feel safe way over here? Think if you see him coming, you can strategically out maneuver him?
Annoyance needled him; he was really beginning to hate that sarcastic, smart ass little voice.
What was Noble really doing here?
That was the question swimming around inside Jonah's head as he scrubbed the sweat from his body, all the while struggling to ignore the raging stiffness between his legs.
Sure, Noble had the excuse of delivering the package. But had he truly not wanted to come out here, he could have found a viable reason not to. So if Jonah was to deduce that Noble had ulterior motives for being at his house, the question remained – what were those motives? He had to wonder if even Noble knew what they were, or if he were even aware he had ulterior motives. It wasn't likely the guy would admit such a thing to himself. Surely he was still convinced his sole purpose for driving out there was to do a favor for Jonah's father.
Are you sure you're just not full of yourself? Maybe the man isn't as hot for you as you want to believe. Perhaps you just need to dial down the arrogance a notch or two.
Jonah chuckled, then groaned. It was true, he couldn't deny it – he wanted Noble to desire him beyond control. But maybe it wasn't arrogance so much as just not wanting to be the only one in this who was weakened by the presence of the other man. Noble had no idea the power he truly wielded over Jonah. And much of that evidence was making itself known with a painful throbbing ache between his legs.
“Shit.” Jonah gasped softly and cranked the hot water most of the way off and stood beneath a cool spray, his skin bumping up with goose flesh. He was anxious to get back downstairs before Noble decided to cut and run, but he couldn't hardly walk into the kitchen sporting an erection this massive. Nothing he owned was loose fitting enough to hide this thing.
Just take care of it quick, then get back down there before your boy escapes.
There had been numerous times since Jonah had met Noble just a few days ago, that he'd had to take care of it. But never when the man was so nearby. Somehow knowing Noble was right down there in the kitchen, waiting for him, possibly imagining him in the shower – or even imagining himself in the shower with Jonah – just made the job much more intense.
Jonah flattened one hand against the wall, leaned on his arm, and wrapped his free hand around his throbbing cock. His eyes squeezed shut and, as always, Noble rose clear and vivid in his mind, his trembling voice begging Jonah to kiss him, his fingers clawing at Jonah's shirt, popping loose buttons, pulling at him urgently.
A hard breath exploded from between Jonah's lips as he worked himself with barely controlled urgency. He bit his lip to keep from crying out as a mind blowing orgasm coiled in his groin. “Fuck.” he gasped sharp, low, his throat working to hold the scream at bay. His face pinched and eyes squeezed tighter, his fist tightening and stroking harder, faster. A low grinding growl pushed out between his clenched teeth.
At the peak of his orgasm, he twisted his head quick and bit his arm, muffling the wail tearing up his throat as his body released with enough force to nearly drop him to his knees. He worked out the last remnants of cum, then cranked the hot water back on for a moment before shutting off the water and stepping out of the shower on trembling legs.
His pulse raced erratically and he almost feared going downstairs and facing Noble. His desire for the man was beyond his control and he didn't trust himself to be alone with the guy – yet craved Noble's presence the way a drowning man craves just one more breath of fresh, clear air.
The shower stopped. Warmth simmered in the pit of Noble's stomach then began to seep outward through his limbs, slowly consuming his entire body. Behind his eyes, without willing his thoughts to go there, he watched Jonah step out of the shower, water droplets coursing down his strong body, sliding smoothly over each swell of perfect muscle. Wet, black hair a glossy sheen, dripping at the tips-
“God.” Noble sucked in a sharp breath and jerked his head to the side as if the swift movement could propel the unwelcome vision from his mind. He stepped to the sink and, out of habit, rinsed his coffee cup and set it on the counter. He gripped the edge of the sink and stared out the small window at the trees beyond the driveway. “Please help me.” he shuddered, glancing at the soft blue sky above the treetops. He squeezed the sink until his knuckles ached. “Please. I don't want to think this way. I don't want to think...about him this way.” His chin dropped to his chest and he closed his eyes, his voice sinking to a barely audible whisper. “I can't be here. Please help me leave. Please give me the strength to walk out of here now.” His throat tightened, his eyes squeezing and stinging. “I don't want to do this to Rebecca. Please, God...help me be the man she thinks I am.”
He sniffed and cleared his throat, then lifted his head. The driveway rippled in his vision when he opened his eyes. Go now, while there's still time.
It seemed his feet were rooted to the floor. Why couldn't he move? What was keeping him here? Really? What? He was like a kid playing with fire, knowing at some point he would get burned, but too mesmerized by the flames to look away, to back off to a safe distance.
A frustrated, determined groan squeezed up his tight throat and he jerked away from the sink, spinning on his heel – and crashed into a solid wall. Not a wall – a chest. Noble grunted in surprise, a measure of his air knocked from his lungs. Strong hands grabbed his waist in a quick, reflexive move and Noble was suddenly gripping thick, hard biceps that retained a faint dampness and heat from the recent shower. The scent of Irish Spring and musk cologne invaded his senses, clogging his mind, rendering him helpless and incapable of coherent thought.
Black spots mottled his vision briefly then cleared and he was staring at Jonah's mouth, just inches from his own. Let go of him. Get back. The words raced wildly inside his head, but he was having difficulty comprehending them. He could hear his own breath puffing erratically from between his parted lips and wondered absently if the solid pounding of his heart was as audible to Jonah's ears as it was to his.
Jonah's fingers squeezed his waist ever so slightly and he could feel the man's breath on his face, somewhat ragged and uneven. It smelled of mint toothpaste.
The bicep muscles beneath his gripping fingers flexed a little, causing Noble to tighten his hold. Oh god, he smells so good. His cologne was like tendrils of magic, drawing him under the man's spell. Jonah's head shifted just a little, his face tilting down, inviting Noble to take what they both knew he wanted. He craved the man's kiss and silently willed him to just close the tiny space between them and feed him what he so hungered for. But his will went unfulfilled.
He wants you to kiss him. The sudden thought ripped more breath from his lungs. It was true, he could feel it in the tension resonating out of the man. But he couldn't. If he initiated the action...even just once...it would all be over. Still, his lips burned for that kiss. He ached to press closer to Jonah, bury his face in his throat and breathe him in until he was intoxicated by his scent.
As it communicating telepathically, Jonah again gently squeezed his waist then shifted just enough that their bodies touched snug together. Panic darted through Noble when he suddenly became aware of how aroused he was – and how firmly he was pressing against the man, met in return by Jonah's own evidence of want.
Get away from him!
Why wasn't Jonah saying anything? Doing anything? What was he waiting for? Just make your move already. Fuck me if that's what you want from me – lets just be done with it. Take what you want and then leave me be.
Noble's eyes were stinging and his vision blurring. He was so tired of this fucking battle. Just let it be over – even if he lost. He didn't care. Maybe then, he could just lay down and die. Be through with the fighting. The whole fucking war.
He didn't notice he was shaking until Jonah spoke low, startling him. “Are you okay, Noble?”
He tried to speak, but his breath kept catching, breaking. His fingers squeezed Jonah's arms tight and he shook his head. “No.” The single word shuddered up his throat, unintentional, barely audible at all.
Jonah released him and stepped away. Noble grabbed the edge of the counter, his head swimming. The sink faucet turned on momentarily then shut off again, and a cool glass was pressed into his hand.
“Take a drink.” Jonah said. “You'll be okay.”
Noble did as he was told, his hand shaking slightly as he raised the glass to his lips and drank down the cold water. It seemed to help chase some of the heat from his body and clear his head a bit. He stared at the floor as he continued to sip from the glass. His eyes were wet and he didn't want to look at Jonah. The man must think him desperately weak. And for reasons he didn't quite understand, it hurt to have Jonah see him that way. He couldn't imagine a man like Jonah Harrington having a weak moment in his entire life. That much, at least, he envied of the man.
Jonah's hand cupped the back of Noble's head gently, comforting, his fingertips delving lightly into his hair, softly rubbing against the skin underneath. “That's it.” he murmured. “You're going to be all right.”
It must be nice, he thought, his stomach churning, to possess such strength.
Noble wouldn't know about that. Not when, at this moment, he just wished to crawl into a hole and pull it in after him. He had no strength of will – not when it came to Jonah. The man could do with him as he pleased. Noble knew this. Jonah knew it as well.
So why didn't he just take you right there? He had you. Why this show of concern?
The answers were ghosts haunting his mind – visible but without substance, passing through his fingers when he reached for them.
The back of the young man's neck warmed Jonah's palm. Noble wouldn't look at him. Maybe you should have just kissed him. The guy would be feeling a lot better right now.
Jonah shoved the thought away. A kiss – or anything else – wasn't the answer to Noble's problem. The man was fighting a battle he couldn't win, and the sooner he came to terms with reality, the better off he would be. But it wasn't something anyone could tell him. He had to work through it, and being pushed one way or the other could generate disastrous results.
The tension in Noble bubbled at the surface. Jonah drew his hand away and off the man. “Noble...” he started, not entirely sure what he meant to say.
Noble came alive quite suddenly and set the water glass on the counter, moving away from Jonah. “I need to go.” His words were heavy and seemed to fall from his lips with effort. A notable strain squeezed his voice and still he evaded Jonah's eyes.
A quiet panic stabbed at Jonah, startling him. How many opportunities would he have to be this alone with Noble? He couldn't just let him walk away prematurely.
“No.” Jonah stepped towards him. “Noble, wait. Look...it's okay. Nothing happened. You don't have to go.”
“Yes, I do.” Noble whispered. “I'm not even supposed to be here. I told Rebecca I wouldn't...” He didn't finish but moved purposely towards the kitchen doorway.
Grabbing his arm gently, but with enough firmness to stop him in his tracks, Jonah asked, “You told Rebecca you wouldn't what?” Pressure squeezed his throat and tightened his chest. His conversation with Becca the day before was still vivid in his mind.
“Nothing.” Noble mumbled and shifted anxiously, tentatively pulling against Jonah's hand, but not necessarily trying to jerk free of his grasp. “It doesn't matter. I...shouldn't be here.”
“Why?” Jonah asked bluntly. “Because Becca thinks I'm a bad influence? I get it, she doesn't want you to be friends with me. But...” His heart quick stepped as the question teetered on the tip of his tongue, then finally took the plunge. “But what do you want? Do you not want to be friends with me, Noble? Because if that's how you feel...I'm not going to try to force you. If you don't like me, you don't like me. I get it. I haven't given you much reason to like me-”
“I do.” Noble spoke quick, unsteady. His eyes were tight as he stared at the floor.
“What?” Jonah asked slowly, half convinced he'd imagined the guy had even spoken at all.
Noble raised his head and finally looked at Jonah, a sheen of tears glossing his troubled eyes. “I do...like you.”
Sharp spears of electricity pierced Jonah from every angle. His head swam for a moment and he was shocked at the power behind those four little words. I do like you. Even if he just meant as a friend – Noble Richman liked him.
Of his own free will.
Why did you tell him that? Panic began to set in almost instantly. He's going to think you meant...
What? That he liked him as more than a friend? Would that hardly be the wrong assumption on Jonah's part? Nevertheless...
Explain yourself. Don't let him interpret that as he pleases. Take control.
“I mean...” Noble faltered, his voice shaking. He tore his gaze from Jonah's face. It was far too easy to get lost in those violet depths, and not want to be found again. “I don't think you're...a bad influence. Or whatever. Rebecca...she's just...” He had no viable explanation for her attitude.
“I know what Rebecca is.” Jonah said without bitterness. “I know what she thinks of me. It is what it is. You don't have to try and make excuses for her.”
In truth, Noble felt he should apologize for her. But Jonah wouldn't accept it, and why should he? It wouldn't be coming from her, and therefore would make it mute. But he could apologize for himself.
He licked his lips slowly and struggled with his words. Jonah was still holding his arm and his touch seemed a thousand degrees, burning into his skin. “About...that call last night.” Noble forced out, an audible tremor to his voice that made him cringe. “I should explain...”
“Only if you want to.” Jonah released his arm as if only just realizing he was still holding onto Noble.
“I...” Noble's lips pressed into a tight line and his face pinched slightly as he recalled the extreme anxiety he'd suffered just trying to make that one simple call, and how the sound of Jonah's voice had rendered him immobile – verbally and physically. He still saw the Styrofoam cup sitting on his night stand, the ragged heart embracing his name. What did that mean exactly?
Noble forced his thoughts to clear. “I called to...apologize.”
“Apologize.” Jonah spoke slow, quiet. “To me?” A soft laugh danced on his tongue. “And what heinous sin did you commit against me, that you felt the need to apologize?”
Noble chanced another look at the man's face. He was standing too close and his cologne, though mild, intoxicated Noble's senses and affected his body in ways he desperately needed to control.
“I wanted to apologize for what happened...at church.” The shakes gripped him inwardly, deep in the pit of his stomach. Jonah's eyes held his, saying too much of what Noble didn't want to hear, couldn't let himself hear.
“I don't follow.” Jonah said. “What was there to apologize for?”
“In the bathroom.” Noble told him. “You were...just trying to help. I shouldn't have gotten angry and...said those things to you. It was rude and...uncalled for.”
A shimmer of hurt rippled through Jonah's gaze. “You weren't being rude, Noble.” he spoke low, soft, a barely notable tightness to his voice. “You said what you meant. How else were you supposed to say it?” He shrugged, but his eyes never left Noble's face. “And if truth be told...I deserved it.”
Noble rubbed his mouth and let his hand linger as his eyes slid involuntarily down Jonah's chest. His white button shirt was fully open and hung loosely around the pair of gray leisure pants he wore. When he felt Jonah watching him, he let his gaze drop to the floor and rest on the man's bare feet. He was suddenly assaulted by an image of the two of them relaxing on a sofa, sitting opposite one another, the man's feet in his lap as he massaged the soles.
His breath caught a bit sharply. Where did that come from? His rapid pulse quickened another notch as an ache settled in the center of his chest when he insisted staunchly to himself that would never happen, that he could never allow himself to be so comfortable with Jonah that something even as simple as massaging one another's feet could take place. And it troubled him immensely how deeply that reality hurt.
Silence hovered between him and Jonah. The man's words – “You said what you meant” – lingered in Noble's ears. At the time, there in the bathroom, Noble had been certain he had meant it when he'd told Jonah to stay away, to...never touch him again. But not an hour later, he was caught up in a full blown erotic fantasy of the guy – body, mind, and...heart...aching for the man.
“You didn't deserve it.” Noble whispered, unaware the words were even there, ready to be spoken, so quick and certain and without hesitation.
“How do you figure?” Jonah wondered, the light smile on his lips audible in his voice. “I hardly made a good first impression. Or second impression.” A soft chuckle floated out of him. “Not too sure about the third.”
The memory of his anxiety attack out in front of the church came back on Noble; Jonah carefully guiding him to the rail of the steps, his hand firm but gentle on the back of his neck, instructing him what to do. Helping him.
Noble looked up at him. “The third...was good.” A hesitant smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.
“Well,” Jonah didn't resist the smile tugging at his lips. “They do say third time's a charm.” The edge of his mouth turned up more sharply and Noble's knees went weak. “Sometimes it takes a man a few tries to get it right.”
You got it right the first time. The sudden thought startled Noble. How could he think that? The man had been forceful and, to a degree, belligerent. Yet thinking on it now, he realized that even then he hadn't felt...assaulted. Rather, he had trembled beneath the man's touch and...begged Jonah to kiss him. Did all the fault really rest on Jonah alone? Noble had done his damnedest to lay it all on the man, but if he were to be totally, starkly honest with himself – he had wanted such a thing to happen from the instant he'd met Jonah's eyes from across the room.
But even so, he kept that bit of truth to himself. Admitting too much, right now, right here...it was too dangerous. There were no barriers between them at the moment, no fear of someone walking in. They were alone, with nothing but their own strength of will to stop things from...happening. And Noble didn't put much stock in his own strength of will. Nor Jonah's.
You need to go. You can't be here alone with him this way. You know you can't. You owe it to Rebecca to leave. You owe it to God.
Noble cleared his throat anxiously. “I really have to go.” he said quietly, pulling his gaze from Jonah's face, knowing full well if he continued staring into the man's eyes, he wouldn't make it even one step.
“Why?” Jonah asked again. Once more, he took hold of Noble's arm gently. “What's so pressing that you have to get back to?”
He couldn't admit the truth of why he needed to leave. Not out loud. Somehow he knew the admittance would tear down what fragile, flimsy walls still remained between them. They both knew his reasons, but speaking them out would only ignite them.
“I just...need to go.” Noble offered weakly.
When Jonah released his arm, disappointment wriggled in his gut. Had he wanted the man to forcibly make him stay?
“If you really want to go, Noble.” Jonah spoke low, soft, with just enough ache to his voice to cause Noble's heart to flutter, his chest tighten. “I won't try to force you not to.” Two fingertips touched Noble's chin, startling him. His face was turned up to Jonah's, and the look in the man's eyes liquefied Noble's heart in his chest. “But I'm asking you.” Jonah murmured, the ache intensifying. “Please...stay.”
No...no...no...don't get caught. It isn't safe here. You can't be here. Nothing has happened yet. You still have Rebecca, your future, your life. If you stay – you could lose it all. And for what?
The warning spun on a loop in his head, round and round, faster and faster until the words were just one muffled hum. Noble was aware that the very moment Jonah's fingertips touched his face and he asked him to stay – it was over. His fate sealed. He had been caught and there was no avenue of escape.
And the troubling reality remained – he wasn't looking for escape.
© Copyright 2017 AMS1971. All rights reserved.
Book / Gay and Lesbian
Book / Gay and Lesbian
Book / Gay and Lesbian