A Kind of Honesty

by Lane Hayes

  Carter chuckled. He grasped my hand and kissed my wrist. I looked into his eyes, surprised by the gallant show of affection.

  “We fit each other, baby. We can make anything work.” His devilish grin darkened to something much more dangerous when he continued. “Don’t worry… I’ll be gentle.”

  I snickered at his teasing comment and tried again, lowering myself on his turgid flesh slowly. Inch by inch, taking time to acclimate to his girth. Carter parted my cheeks, tapping my hole and rubbing until my focus became pleasure and the twinge of pain subsided. When I was fully seated, I stopped to stare at him. If I allowed myself to think, I knew I might be in trouble. I could spin this in the worst possible light, wondering how the hell I found myself here… sitting on a man’s cock. And liking it.

  “I feel… full. It’s good. I think.”

  “It gets better when you move. Go on,” he instructed through clenched teeth.

  I gave him a cocky grin at odds with the swarm of butterflies buzzing in my stomach. Then I tentatively rocked my hips. Forward and backward. I repeated the motion, picking up momentum as the last remnants of discomfort faded and were replaced by a burst of carnal pleasure. My movement soon became unfettered. I rode him wantonly, reaching out to pinch his nipples as I upped the tempo. My dick slapped at his abdomen, painting him with precum. I smeared it over the light smattering of hair on his muscular chest and licked my palms for no reason other than I felt like it.

  Carter groaned loudly. He anchored my hips to slow my frenetic pace. Then he lifted his hips and fucked me from below in short, furious strokes. It felt amazing, but it wasn’t enough.

  “Get on top of me. I want you to fuck me. Hard.”

  I disengaged myself carefully. Carter climbed between my thighs. He added more lube, spreading the cool gel inside me with two fingers before quickly replacing them with his cock. We gasped at the same time. The angle was different now, and being face-to-face added a poignant layer of intimacy and significance. We held eye contact for a long moment before he crashed his mouth over mine and moved. He was sensuous and slow, holding me with infinite care as he bit my lips and then licked my earlobe. He whispered sweet nothings that in no way resembled his earlier dirty talk. This wasn’t a hard, nasty fuck now. He was making love to me.

  That was the second time that word had surfaced in my brain in the past few minutes. A surge of panic swept through my veins. This wasn’t love. This was sex and—Carter slammed into me hard. My eyes flew open and my heart sputtered wildly. He gave me a feral, lopsided grin that served as my only warning to get flowery thoughts of the L-word out my head. He was about to turn it up a notch… or ten.

  I wrapped my arms and legs around him as he pistoned inside me with brute force. I fucking loved it. He surrounded me, battering my body with primitive violence he tempered with soothing words and tender kisses. My leaking cock trapped between us was getting a hell of a rubdown. The nonstop friction was so intense I knew I’d come apart any second.

  And then he spoke.

  “You’re mine, Tim. Mine,” he growled, driving deeper still.

  “Y-yeah… just fuck me!” I cried, scratching his back, then lowering my hands to dig my nails into his ass.

  “Say it.”

  I might have pretended I didn’t know what he was talking about, but there was no hiding here. I was completely exposed. Honesty was all I had.

  “Yours.”

  Carter’s rhythm faltered. The steady bucking became erratic until he finally let go and succumbed to a fierce release. I’d never had a guy come inside me before now. I wanted to savor the incredible sense of power as he trembled, clutching me like a life preserver. But I was too close. He grabbed my cock and stroked me furiously, pulling me under with him until wave after wave crashed over me.

  We lay with our limbs entwined as our pulses raced and finally calmed in the aftermath. Twilight bathed the room in shadows, making it easier to camouflage my growing anxiety. Eventually I stopped trembling on the outside, but inside I was a mess. My heart felt too big for my chest. I was an emotional basket case. I wasn’t the kind of guy to dwell on what-ifs, but Carter made it hard not to be honest with myself… if not him. He wasn’t just anyone. He was special. He was patient but firm. Kinky but kind. He was a voice of reason with a unique perspective who seemed to get me. It didn’t make sense. We were worlds apart. He wasn’t someone I could have forever. Maybe that’s what was eating me. This thing between us was much bigger than I’d counted on. It was more real than anything I’d ever known. And it scared the hell out of me.

  We returned to the city midafternoon on Sunday. When the car stopped at Carter’s place, he looked over at me with a sexy, lopsided grin before leaning in to kiss me good-bye. I pulled back, casting a warning glance toward the driver. Carter rolled his eyes.

  “See ya, buddy,” he said sarcastically as he opened his door.

  “Wait. I’m coming too.”

  He furrowed his brow and shrugged. “Need the bathroom?”

  “Uh… yeah.”

  What I really needed was space to think about things. My ass was sore enough that forgetting any part of last night wasn’t an option. Not that I wanted to. However, I wasn’t ready to dissect what it meant or if it changed anything between us either. I didn’t know what I was doing. I was beyond playing it cool, but I also wasn’t sure what was normal anymore. I figured if I stayed close to Carter, I’d be okay. He was solid, real, and seemingly immune to whatever was making my pulse trip and my palms sweat. I hoped his cool rubbed off on me.

  My excuse to use his bathroom spiraled into a shared peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich. Then an innocent comment about feeling grimy from travel became a race to see who could get in the shower first. I swore that was it. No more sex this weekend. I needed some distance. He was consuming me like nothing else in my life, and I wasn’t sure it was healthy. But when he bent over the bathroom counter and shook his ass at me in invitation, there was no way I could refuse either of us. By the time we reshowered, re-dressed, and made our way downstairs, it was almost six o’clock. I had a ton of messages I’d ignored all weekend. It was time to get back to reality.

  Carter leaned against the doorframe in front of his home. His hair was damp, his feet were bare, and in his casual, light blue T-shirt and faded jeans, he looked sexier than anyone should be allowed. I made a show of adjusting my dick before making my way to the sidewalk to wait for my ride. He chuckled at my antics and then sauntered down the short flight of steps after me.

  “Hey. Thanks for the weekend in Baltimore. It was fun.”

  “Well, some parts were more fun than others, but yeah… I’m glad you came.”

  “You came a lot,” he quipped in a deadpan voice.

  I threw my head back and laughed. Carter wrapped his arm around my neck and pulled me close. We stood in an affectionate embrace for a long moment. My face was nuzzled in his neck and my fingers were hooked in his belt loop as his stubbled cheek rested against my ear. It wasn’t a sexual display. No grinding body parts or tongues were involved. In a way it was far more intimate. I should have stepped back when a car slowed on his quiet street, but I didn’t want to break the connection. It was just my ride anyway.

  “I’ll call you later,” I said after a long moment. I stepped back and started toward the parked car, then stopped in my tracks and walked back to him. “I told you I’m going to LA this week, right?”

  “No, but you said it was coming up. When do you leave?”

  “Day after tomorrow, I think. I have a shit ton of e-mails to go through and….” I stalled, looking down the sidewalk for a diversion that wasn’t there, before turning back to him. “It’s a long trip. Two weeks at least. I—”

  Carter gave me a gorgeous, radiant smile this time. Warm and welcoming, and all mine. He cocked his head and ran his hand lazily over my jaw.

  “You’re gonna miss me, huh?” His twinkling eyes invited me to let humor infuse the moment and keep it light.

&
nbsp; But I couldn’t.

  “I think I am.” I leaned in and kissed his cheek before moving toward the waiting car just as a black town car turned the corner.

  The driver of the town car waved a greeting as he stopped in front of Carter’s building. I recognized him as one of the studio chauffeurs and didn’t hesitate to change course. I settled into the backseat and introduced myself for the sake of being friendly before giving him my address.

  I pulled out my cell and then glanced out the window just as the occupant of the dark car I mistook as my ride opened his door. The guy looked familiar. Tall, dark, and—no fucking way.

  Lance.

  I craned my neck and swiveled in my seat as we drove by. What the fuck was he doing here? I typed a quick text to give Carter a heads-up. No doubt he’d be as baffled as me. I toyed with asking the driver to go back when my phone rang. I’d been out of contact since Friday on the weekend before we were set to go into the recording studio. I couldn’t ignore anyone now. Carter was a big boy. He could handle Lance on his own. I’d get the details from him later. Like it or not, it was time to join the real world.

  Fifteen minutes later, my phone buzzed.

  It was nothing. He’s gone. He invited me to dinner.

  And u said?

  No. Duh.

  No duh? One weekend in Baltimore and this is how u talk now?

  Haha. Call me later.

  A simple heart emoji followed the request. For some reason, that was all I saw. I stared at it as though willing the symbol to talk to me. I needed a clue or a set of directions. The butterflies in my stomach, my quickening pulse, and the strong desire to head across town now and knock on his door let me know I was in deep. I scrolled to find a different-colored heart, hesitating for a half second before I pushed Send. Then I set my phone aside with a smile. There was no need to panic. The directions were clear. Everything led back to Carter.

  10

  LA in the summertime was beautiful. The gentle breeze blowing off the Pacific made for near-perfect weather during our stay. Not too hot and never too cold. Not that we saw much of the great outdoors. We spent almost all of our time inside the studio. Any free time we may have had was allotted to radio appearances and even a guest spot on a late-night television show. This was a working trip. I knew it would be hectic, but within a week, it was starting to wear on me. I missed Carter.

  We talked or texted every day, but it was never fluid communication. The business part of making music was in full effect. The band was at the mercy of our label, which most of the time wouldn’t bother me at all. Suite Dog was a great company. They made the exhausting itinerary palatable by taking care of every little detail. We never had to think about food or transportation or dealing with LA’s notoriously terrible traffic. Someone took care of those pesky things for us while we concentrated on recording.

  Every detail inside the studio now was top secret, but Cammy made sure to give Spiral fans a behind-the-scenes glimpse of us doing everyday things. She posted photos on our website of us with our instruments or hanging out in the lounge area goofing around. Isaac and I laughed at a particularly amusing picture of Will rolling his eyes while Rand pontificated about whatever hot topic was under his skin.

  Isaac chuckled as he pointed at a less-than-flattering picture of himself taking a huge bite of spaghetti.

  “Damn, she oughtta run these by us first. I look like a—”

  The lounge door banged open, and a moment later Cammy sailed in. I was about to ask how she knew we were talking about her, but her expression wasn’t particularly friendly. She had one hand on her hip while she used the other to wave her iPad at us.

  Cammy was a tiny young woman with curly brown hair she sometimes streaked with whatever color of the rainbow she was feeling most connected to at the moment. Or so she said. Her intense demeanor was softened by her innate sunny personality. She was upbeat but no-nonsense with a silly sense of humor. Except right now she looked like an angry kitten baring its claws.

  “What the fuck, Chalmers?” she asked, sweeping a strand of aquamarine hair away from her eyes.

  Isaac and I shared a look before I turned to her with an innocent smile.

  “What’d I do?”

  She shoved her iPad at me angrily. “I have politely asked all of you to please let me know if there are any ‘changes’ in your personal lives. I made it crystal clear that I hate being blindsided. When a picture of you surfaces out of the fucking blue with your hands all over a hot guy’s ass, I kinda hoped I’d know something about it first. Why the hell is this difficult? A little warning….”

  I tuned her tirade out and glanced down at the screen. She was on an entertainment site that specialized in salacious headlines designed to capture attention. I glanced at the large font and gulped. Oh. Fuck.

  Drummer Caught Canoodling with Male Lover in NYC While His Baby Mama Braves the Market Alone in LA

  There were two photos side by side. The first was Miranda with her hair in a basic ponytail. She was wearing a tight tank tee that accentuated her belly bump and a pair of huge sunglasses on her nose. The basket in her hand indicated she was shopping at an outdoor market. It was one of those “celebs caught doing normal things” photo ops. In this case I knew it was contrived because there was no way in hell the Miranda I knew would willingly walk out of her house looking “normal.” She was a glamorous supermodel for fuck’s sake. Not an ordinary woman.

  My heart flipped in my chest when I turned my attention to the other picture. It was Carter and I embracing in front of his building the Sunday we’d returned from Baltimore. I remembered everything about the moment. The rush of emotion and the sense of well-being I’d felt standing in the circle of his arms. While it was true his street saw almost no traffic, I was usually careful about public displays of affection. I hadn’t thought twice about it then. I was too wrapped up in the events of our weekend away. Caught between wanting space to deal with my turbulent emotions and needing to hold on to him for as long as possible.

  This was private. Not for public consumption. To see us next to a photo of a woman who I knew used every opportunity in her arsenal for exposure made me feel… cheap. We were real. She wasn’t.

  “Well? What am I supposed to do with this? You’re snuggled up to a hot man while your pregnant girl—”

  “She’s my ex. And she may by pregnant, but there’s no fucking way the baby is mine.” I handed her the iPad when I stood. I couldn’t sit still now. I wasn’t sure how to deal with this shit. I hadn’t looked at my cell in a few hours. We had a strict no-phone policy in the recording studio. Now I was afraid of what I’d find. My mother was going to freak the fuck out. And Carter….

  “Who’s the guy? Are you in a relationship? What do I say? Come on, Tim. Help me out here.”

  I swallowed hard and nodded. “Um… yeah. He’s—wait. I don’t want him involved in her BS. Leave him out of it.”

  “How? This isn’t a brotherly hug. How do I downplay the intimate snuggle fest next to the lonely looking pregnant woman buying vegetables at the fucking market?”

  “That’s your job, Cam,” I said in a gruff tone.

  Isaac sat forward on the sofa and cast a curious look between us. “Hey, this isn’t my business, but… it seems like this is a matter of telling the truth or softening it.”

  “You mean lying?” I rolled my eyes and paced toward the window, then back again.

  “Not necessarily,” Cammy chimed in. “We can ignore this entirely and release a different picture of you to confuse the storyline. Something like Miranda and you having a friendly dinner. She lives in LA, right? Assuming she’s in town, we can get to work right away and head off any other drama.”

  “What good would that do?”

  “It will confuse this story. Are they friends? Are they lovers? Is this a lie? It will act as a buffer until we release the real story. The one you want to tell.”

  “I don’t know. I—” I swiped my hand over my stubbled jaw and stared un
seeing down at the row of palm trees lining the busy boulevard outside.

  “Or you can tell the truth,” Isaac suggested. “Tell everyone you’ve got it bad for Carter. Nice taste, by the way. The guy is seriously hot.”

  “Who is this guy? How do you know him?” Cammy asked Isaac, finally cluing in that I was paralyzed by indecision and worry.

  “He’s a good friend of Benny and Zeke’s and he is fi-ne,” Isaac whistled as he strode toward the door. “Good luck, Timmy. By the way, five minutes ’til we start. Don’t be late or Rand will hunt you down and this shit will blow up all over again.”

  I watched his retreating form, ultra-aware of Cammy’s scrutiny. I didn’t have it in me to fake a smile. I sighed instead and pulled out my phone, unsurprised by the insane amount of text and voice messages lighting up the screen. I dialed Carter’s number and waited. It went directly to voice mail. Fuck. I typed a quick message just as a new one came in from my mother. Not happening right now.

  Cammy touched my shoulder gently and gave me a reassuring smile. “Hey. Remember I’m on your team. Let’s put a plan together that if nothing else, bides us a little time. I’ll contact Miranda and act as your secretary. I’ll suggest a tame dinner at a private table at the hotel. We’ll take one photo. Release it with an innocuous caption or maybe we’ll leave it blank. It will give you a couple days to think about how to you want to come out.”

  “Come out?” I squeaked.

  “Yeah. I mean… about seeing a man. It’s one thing to say you’re bi and another to prove it by dating a guy. People will be curious. They’ll want to know about you, him… and of course what it means to Miranda and the baby. We control the story if we tell it first and we tell it our way. Your way.”

  “So you’re saying I’d have to come out in a couple days or—fuck, I need more time.”

  “Sorry, Tim. You don’t have it. But it shouldn’t matter. You’re already out and—”

  “Not with my family. I can’t come out to my mother on the fucking phone.”