Push & Pull (The Midwest Series Book 2)

by Brigham Vaughn

  Brent cradled Lowell’s head, his fingers sliding through the short, silky hair as Lowell’s lips brushed across his cock. “Jesus, I ...”

  He couldn’t even manage words when he felt wet warmth engulf his dick. He let out another embarrassing whimper and closed his eyes. Right then, he didn’t care how needy he sounded. He just wanted more of whatever Lowell would give him.

  Lowell was astonishingly skilled with his mouth as he sucked and licked Brent’s cock. He played with Brent’s balls, cupping and rolling them in his hands, and Brent had to grit his teeth to keep from coming the moment Lowell sucked him hard and deep.

  “Oh fuck. Lowell!” Brent threw his head back and panted, the tingling pleasure in his groin coming together and centering in his balls. “Gonna come. Fuck, I’m going to come.”

  The heat around Brent’s cock disappeared, and he squinted down at Lowell.

  “Fuck. Why’d you stop?”

  Lowell stood fluidly but swayed a bit when he was upright. When he recovered, he shoved Brent’s pants down his thighs. “Strip. And get on the bed.”

  “Bossy,” Brent muttered, but he wanted to come too much to argue. Besides, he sorta liked it.

  Once he was naked, he fell back on the bed with a quiet “whump” and stared up as Lowell crawled over him, looking impossibly slinky and sexy. Brent shuddered and his cock twitched. Lowell blinked down at him for a moment before he licked his lips, a heated look in his eyes.

  Brent reached for him, but Lowell gave him a small shake of the head.

  “I hate to kill the mood,” he murmured. “But have you been tested recently?”

  “Tested?” Brent’s blood was a little too far south for his brain to function well at the moment. It took a moment for the pieces to come together. “Oh, yeah. And I’ve always used condoms. Every time.”

  “Glad to hear it. Same for me.” Lowell sat back, his ass resting on Brent’s thighs. Brent reached for his cock, but Lowell gently swatted his hands away. “Nope. I’m in charge.”

  Brent wanted to protest, but he really was enjoying Lowell’s bossiness so he relaxed, putting his hands behind his head. “Okay.”

  Lowell reached for the lube.

  “Are you going to fuck me?” Brent felt a little lurch in his chest. It had been a while.

  “No.” Lowell squirted a generous helping of lube into his hand and warmed it between his palms for a moment. Brent groaned when the slippery hand wrapped around his cock and stroked, but the groan dissolved into a whine when Lowell let go and lubed his own dick.

  “What are you ...” Brent’s question trailed off as Lowell stretched out over him, their cocks lining up. “Oh!”

  Lowell rocked his hips against Brent’s, tearing a low groan from his throat. “Good?”

  “Shit. So good.” Brent pulled Lowell against him, running his hands up and down his lean back, the muscles solid under his palms.

  Lowell kissed him, and with his tongue in Brent’s mouth and the way he rubbed against Brent’s dick with his own, Brent could focus on nothing else. He wondered what it would feel like to have Lowell inside him, fucking him, and he shuddered, his balls tightening. God, he hadn’t had a hair-trigger reflex like this since he was in high school, but damn this was good. Too good. He wasn’t sure how long he could hold out.

  “Yeah, close,” he panted against Lowell’s mouth. “Fuck, so close.”

  Lowell moved in a fluid, maddening rhythm, and Brent felt his thigh brush against his balls. He gripped Lowell’s hips, pulling their bodies together even more tightly. It only took a few more hard thrusts before he let out a strangled gasp and spurted everywhere, covering both their stomachs.

  “Oh, God. Fuck. Lowell,” Brent howled, shuddering and clutching at the sweaty body lying over him. His head swam from the orgasm and the alcohol.

  Lowell gave him a bruisingly hard kiss, then raised a little to look down into Brent’s eyes.

  “C’mon,” Brent coaxed as he gripped Lowell’s hips more tightly. “Come for me, Lowell.”

  His cock ached, over-sensitive from the orgasm he’d just had, but he didn’t want Lowell to stop until he came too. He stared at Lowell’s face. His cheeks were flushed, and his hair was damp with sweat. His already pouty lips looked a little red and swollen from their kissing. Holy fuck, he’s gorgeous, Brent thought as he stared into Lowell’s eyes.

  All of the animosity that had been between them was gone, and he felt a sudden rush of gratitude that Lowell had come with him on this trip.

  A few moments later, Lowell gave one last, final thrust and threw back his head. He came with a groan, shuddering on top of Brent for a moment before he collapsed onto his chest, then rolled away.

  Brent let his arms fall to the mattress, panting like he’d just done drills for hockey conditioning. He felt a little lightheaded, to be honest. Damn, he’d never had sex like that. His breathing was harsh in the quiet room, and once it started to slow, he stretched and let out a sigh of contentment. He let his head loll to the side. Lowell’s face was turned away from him, so he couldn’t tell, but he hoped Lowell had enjoyed it as much as he had.

  “C’mere, you.” Brent reached out to pull Lowell close, but Lowell abruptly sat upright and scrambled off the bed. Before Brent could ask what he was doing, he disappeared into the bathroom without a word. The door closed behind him with a solid thud that announced he didn’t want Brent to follow.

  “Okay ...” Brent sat up too, more slowly, and looked around for something to clean up with. The only tissues were in the bathroom, and the door was firmly closed. He let out a huff of annoyance when he heard the shower turn on. “Well, I guess that’s that.” He staggered out of bed to find his discarded boxer briefs.

  He cleaned up and tossed the underwear on the floor. “Ugh, I’m too tired for this shit,” he muttered. He fell back on the bed, shifting so he could pull the covers over himself. He grabbed his phone off the nightstand and rolled onto his side. He dicked around online for a while, waiting for Lowell to come out, but as the minutes passed, it became clear Lowell was aiming to take the world’s longest shower.

  When Lowell finally did emerge, wearing pajama pants, the skin on his chest and shoulders was red, and his dark hair was slicked back from his face. He looked older and very, very serious. Brent gave him a questioning look, but Lowell refused to meet his gaze. He closed the curtains with a decisive yank before he turned out the light, then crawled into the other bed, immediately facing away from Brent.

  The room was silent except for the faint hum of the air conditioner.

  Annoyed, Brent looked back at his phone. He brought up the messenger app, but his thumb hesitated over Nathan’s name. He was used to turning to his best friend when he had an issue, but they weren’t exactly talking at the moment.

  Brent sighed.

  Nope, bad idea.

  He was going to have to deal with this on his own. Even without Nathan’s help, he was sure he’d eventually figure out whatever the fuck Lowell’s problem was.

  The sex had been amazing, and if Brent had anything to say about it, this wasn’t going to be a one-time thing.

  Chapter Eleven

  May 29, 2013 – Chicago, Illinois

  Lowell

  Fooling around with Brent is definitely going to have to be a one-time thing. Lowell felt a twinge of disappointment.

  Brent had been asleep for at least an hour, but Lowell lay awake in the dark, staring blankly at the wall across from him.

  This is a mistake, his brain screamed, but he wasn’t sure if he meant hooking up with Brent in the first place, or the way he’d acted after.

  Certainly, the whole situation could have been avoided if he’d just kept his hands to himself. Lowell had never been very good at that though. Especially not after an argument with his parents, too much to drink, and a guy like Brent around. Fuck.

  He’d tried to ignore his attraction to Brent. Hell, he’d pushed Brent off on the blond at the club, and he’d found a gorgeous guy of
his own to play around with. But the blowjob he’d gotten had left him more horny than satisfied.

  Lowell had been drunk-ish but more than coherent enough to know what he was doing. When they got back to their hotel room, he’d made a conscious decision to kiss Brent. He hadn’t expected Brent to respond quite so eagerly though, and once things had gotten under way, he’d found it difficult to stop. Brent had teased him a little about being in charge, but he hadn’t seemed to mind Lowell taking over, and their sexual chemistry ... Fuck, it had been off the charts.

  Lowell had enjoyed it until the moment where he’d been grinding against Brent’s six-pack, stroking his dick through the slick pool of cum on his abs, and Brent had looked up at him. There was something in Brent’s gaze that had set off every alarm bell in Lowell’s head.

  It was more than the look of a guy who was relaxed and content after coming. It was the look that always begged for more. The guy who couldn’t handle a one-night-stand or casual sex. The look of a guy who would be spewing his feelings all over Lowell. Who would expect Lowell to return them.

  Lowell had come harder than he had in a long time. By then, he’d reached a point of no return where, no matter how afraid he was that Brent was quickly getting way more involved than Lowell was comfortable with, he couldn’t hold back. But the minute they were done, he’d felt abject terror seize him.

  And then Brent had reached for him, wanting to cuddle, and Lowell had just gotten the fuck out of there. He’d fled for the shower and stayed in the streaming water until he’d felt like he was about to boil his skin off. Because he didn’t do feelings, and he didn’t do cuddling. And he sure as fuck wasn’t going to do what Brent was clearly thinking about doing.

  And he was pretty sure he’d quite literally kissed away any chance of having a fun remainder of the summer with Brent.

  He tried to ignore the fact that his hands were shaking, and all he wanted to do was climb into the other bed, bury his head against Brent’s shoulder, and apologize for fucking it all up.

  ***

  “You ready for breakfast?” Brent asked after he got out of the shower. Lowell hadn’t slept well. He’d been up and dressed by the time Brent awoke and done his best to avoid looking him in the eye. Lowell kept his gaze glued to his tablet, hoping Brent would take the hint.

  “I’m not hungry,” Lowell said quietly.

  “Um, I guess I’ll go down and grab something to eat then.” Breakfasts at the hotel restaurant were included with the room so all Brent had to do was show his keycard.

  “Okay.” Lowell kept reading, hoping Brent would just leave already.

  “What do you want to do before the game?” Brent asked. “We’ve got some time to kill.”

  Lowell shrugged. “Honestly, I’d kinda like a morning of doing nothing. You can always go out explore on your own if you want.”

  Brent frowned. “No, I mean, I’m fine with hanging out here at the hotel. We have been pretty much going non-stop, and I left today open because I wasn’t sure if I’d get Cubs tickets at all.”

  Lowell nodded. He tried to keep his gaze from straying to Brent’s bare torso and towel-clad hips. Nope, not going there again, he firmly reminded himself.

  “Maybe I’ll go work out before I eat, actually. The hotel has a workout room, right?”

  “Fitness center is on the first floor.” Lowell flicked to the next page of the article he’d been trying to read for the past twenty minutes. Did I actually read the last page? He wasn’t sure.

  “Thanks.” Brent grabbed something from his suitcase, disappeared into the bathroom, and emerged wearing workout clothes. Out of the corner of his eye, Lowell watched him put on his running shoes and pocket his phone, earbuds, and room key. “You’ll be here when I get back?”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “Right.” Brent paused at the foot of the bed and stared down at him. “Why are you acting so weird?”

  “I’m not acting weird.”

  “You’ve refused to have a conversation or look me in the eye me since last night.”

  Lowell looked up and met his gaze. “What the fuck do you want me to talk about?”

  “I don’t know! Something. Anything! What are you reading?” Brent asked.

  “An article in Psychology Today.”

  “Seriously?”

  “What did you think it was? Cosmo?” Lowell said.

  Brent offered him a half-smile. “Or the gay equivalent.”

  Lowell snapped the tablet case shut. “Fuck you.”

  “Technically, we’ve already done that,” Brent joked.

  “Fuck you for thinking that I’m some air-headed twit. I graduated with a 4.0 and a double major in Psychology and Child and Family Development. You’re as bad as my fucking parents.” Lowell glared at him. “I’m so goddamn tired of everyone putting me in these little boxes and telling me how I’m supposed to act and think.”

  “Dude, I never ...” Brent sounded bewildered. “I was just teasing.”

  “Well, I’m sick of it,” Lowell snapped. “I’m sick of my parents telling me I’m not good enough because I couldn’t play sports. Western wasn’t a good enough school. I should be getting my masters at Stanford. You think I’m a complete airhead!”

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Brent snapped. “I’m sorry your parents were assholes about things, but you are blowing this way out of proportion. You’re the one who freaked out after we fooled around last night.”

  “I didn’t freak out!”

  “Look ... Did—did I do something you didn’t want?” Brent asked with a worried frown.

  Lowell blinked at Brent for a moment. “What?”

  Brent swallowed hard. “You seemed to be enjoying things last night, and then you got all ...” He cleared his throat. “Weird and stuff. I know you were kinda drunk, but I was too, and I really thought you were into it. And then I started thinking about it more this morning, and I worried ...”

  “Oh, Jesus.” Lowell shook his head. “No. I was fully on board for the sex. I just don’t do the after part.”

  “The after?”

  “Cuddling and shit.” Lowell’s tone was scathing. “I’m not a fan of cuddling, all right? And I don’t do repeat hookups. Last night was one-off. We got it out of our systems, and we can continue the rest of the trip without indulging again. I’m sure we can both find other people to screw when we want.”

  Brent’s expression fell. “Fine. That’s what I wanted from the beginning anyway.”

  “Good.”

  “You’re impossible,” Brent muttered under his breath. “Fuck it. I’m going to work out and grab something to eat. See you in an hour or so.”

  Lowell didn’t respond. After the door closed with a quiet click, he let out a sigh of relief and flopped onto his back. He’d been waiting all morning for some peace and quiet.

  He reached for his phone and fired off a quick message to Caleb. Are you up yet? I need to talk. On the phone. It’s urgent.

  A few agonizingly long moments later, his phone lit up with an incoming call. “Thanks for calling,” he said.

  “What did you do?” Caleb sounded half-worried, half-amused.

  “Me? Why do you assume I did anything?”

  “Because I know you.”

  “Damn it,” Lowell muttered. “I, uh, sort of hooked up with Brent last night.”

  Caleb snorted. “I thought you guys might at least make it out of Chicago before you fucked.”

  “There were mitigating circumstances.”

  “Like what?”

  Lowell looked up at the ceiling. “Like in order to get the Cubs tickets Brent wanted, I had to take him to my parents’ house for dinner. And they were their usual selves, and it annoyed me.”

  “Okay. So Brent was trying to make you feel better or something?”

  “No. I dragged him to a club in Boystown, got drunk, and flirted way too much. And I was feeling lonely and sorry for myself, so I kissed him when we got back to the hotel.”r />
  “And what? You screwed each other’s brains out?”

  “Less screwing, more frotting, but yeah, same outcome.”

  “Lowell.” Caleb sighed. “I love you, but you have got to stop letting your parents get to you that way.”

  “I know.” He swallowed hard. “They were just ... fawning all over Brent and making me feel shitty about myself, and I needed a distraction.”

  “I get it. But you have to spend the rest of the summer with this guy. Don’t you think you should keep your pants on?”

  “Well, you know me. Love ’em and leave ’em Lowell.”

  Caleb made a disapproving noise. “That’s never been my favorite approach of yours.”

  “I know.”

  “I mean, I get it. But you know it’s just a defense mechanism because of the way Micah dicked you over.”

  “Which of us has the degree in psychology?” Lowell was beginning to feel annoyed.

  “You do! So start using it.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” He knew damn well pushing guys away when they got close was a defense mechanism. But that didn’t mean he had a clue how to stop doing it. It was so much easier to deal with other people’s shit than his own.

  “So how does Brent feel about all of this?”

  “Um, we haven’t really discussed it, exactly.”

  There was silence on the other end for a painfully long moment. “I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me.”

  “Things got kinda, uh, weird after we fooled around.”

  “Weird how?”

  “He tried to cuddle, and I noped the fuck out of the bed and into the shower. And it’s been pretty fucking awkward since.”

  “Oh, Lowell.” Caleb sighed. “You’re better than this.”

  “You know what kind of bullshit I went through with Micah!” he protested.

  “I do know. And the last thing I want is for you to get hurt like that again. But you’re probably confusing the fuck out of poor Brent.”

  “That may be the understatement of the century,” Lowell admitted.

  “The guy didn’t do anything wrong, and you know it. So fix it!”

  “I don’t know how to fix it.”