Page 53 of Snow Storm

“Is that from your, ah…”

“Paralysis?” Claude offered as Harley slid close to him. He smiled when his lover took his discarded shirt and cleaned up the mess from his lap. He brushed along Harley’s tangled curls. “It is, yes. It’s not something that happens often, but I have to pay attention to my blood pressure sometimes when I getworked up. It’s more dangerous for people whose injuries are up higher than mine, but it still happens from time to time.”

“Is there something I should do, or?—”

“No, mon âme. Just be as you are.” He tilted Harley’s head up with a finger under his chin and took a kiss. “That was good for you, yes?”

“Amazing,” Harley said, but there was hesitation in his voice.

Claude waited a long beat, but when he was met with silence, he shifted his body to better look at him. “Tell me.”

Harley swallowed heavily, his gaze darting away. “I want to be able to, you know, talk the way you want me to talk.”

“No,” Claude began, but Harley shook his head, cutting him off.

“Yes. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with dirty talk. I think it’s s-sexy,” he stuttered a little. “I don’t really watch a lot of porn, but I found this channel that had set up an account that was all audio and, uh…and yeah.”

Claude raised a brow at him. “It got you off?”

Harley nodded, biting his lip. After a few breaths, he said, “The first time I ever wrote sex into a book, I was asked to do a reading, and those were the passages they highlighted. It was…awkward, and I got a lot of people who complained to my publisher and my agent about how bad I was at that signing.”

Claude felt his eyes darken. “That’s unkind. That isn’t your job.”

“Readingispart of my job though,” Harley said in a small voice. “I was never good at public speaking. I have to write all these mental scripts, and then I get in front of a crowd, and they ask me questions, and I get all…tongue-tied. I thought for a while that it wasn’t right to get personal questions about my sex life, but my agent seems to think it comes as part of the job.”

“Is that what happened? Why you’re here?”

Harley hunched into himself, pressing his body harder against Claude’s. “You really haven’t watched the video?”

“Ah, chéri. I saw a little bit of it, but there was no audio, and I didn’t go back for details. There’s no point in me watching it, especially if it’ll hurt you.”

Harley was still and quiet for so long Claude started to worry, and then he sat up and looked him in the eye. “Watch it with me.”

“What? No, Harley. I don’t need?—”

“Ineed it,” Harley interrupted. “I need you to know. It might change things for you.”

“How’s that?”

Harley wrapped his arms tightly around his middle. “I hit someone. I used physical violence against someone, and I…I need you to see that part of me before you decide you want to take a risk on all this with me.”

Claude didn’t know what to say or think. He was a man who abhorred the very idea of getting violent with someone, but he was also a man who had been pushed to his limit a time or two—especially when he was younger. But that didn’t mean he’d ever put his hands on a partner.

And he was willing to bet most of what he had and who he was that Harley wasn’t that kind of person either.

Still, he could tell this was important to him, and he knew he’d give Harley anything he asked for…

Within reason—and maybe some things beyond reason too.

“Show me,” he finally said.

Harley looked both relieved and terrified. “Let me get my phone.” He slid off Claude’s lap and disappeared into the bedroom.

When he didn’t return right away, Claude reached for his sweats and managed to get them up over his trembling legs and stiff ass. He was just pulling on his sweater when Harleyreturned dressed in thick, soft pajama pants from one of Claude’s drawers and a T-shirt.

It did something to Claude to see his lover in his clothes. He stretched out his arms, and when Harley was close enough, he bundled him against his body and slipped sideways on the sofa until he was spooned up against Harley’s back.

“I have to warn you,” Harley said softly, “this isn’t going to make me look good.”

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