by Jamie Craig
Laughter erupted from the audience, startling Elijah to look back at the movie. He was startled even further when he felt a pressure on his shoulder, then Sam’s breath on his ear.
“I’m looking forward to waking up with you.” The continued merriment surrounding them drowned out his voice for anybody else to hear. “It’ll be even better because we don’t have to get up.”
Elijah had been almost painfully aware of Sam throughout the night, but he had managed to dampen his desire to manageable levels. Until that moment. Waking up slowly with Sam curled around him was the most exciting thing Elijah could imagine. His groin tightened and his cock began to stiffen. “I’ll make you breakfast in bed…and lunch in bed. So you don’t have to get up.”
The laughter died away, making their conversation, even muted, impossible to continue. Elijah swallowed down his disappointment and tried to focus on the screen, but Sam’s head was still tilted toward him, his weight shifted in his seat almost imperceptibly in his direction.
When he felt the nudge at his foot, Elijah carefully straightened his leg. Sam took the initiative to stroke along the back of his calf, but within seconds, Elijah realized he’d somehow slipped off his shoe. His cock jumped. It hardened even further when Sam lowered their hands to the thigh that now extended past the edge of the arm rest.
Anywhere else, any other time, Elijah would have unzipped his pants and freed his aching erection. It bulged against his tight pants, uncomfortable and sensitive. Sam’s knuckles brushed against the line of his cock. The contact was so fleeting, Elijah could’ve imagined it. Just pretended it happened due to the sheer force of his desire. But the second brief touch told him that he hadn’t imagined it. Sam’s foot continued to move up and down his calf, bringing to mind what it would feel like to have Sam’s leg wrapped around his body.
Another burst of laughter prompted another whispered intent.
“Promise me whatever you fix for breakfast, I get to eat it off you.”
“Of course,” Elijah said in a rush, before the laughter died, imagining the slow tickle of warm syrup rolling down his ribs, followed by Sam’s hotter tongue.
Sam’s fingers crept higher. Now, fingertips brushed along the inside of Elijah’s thigh, bringing to mind how Sam liked to tease his balls until Elijah begged for more. Heat lanced through his groin. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning.
Elijah leaned toward him during another burst of laughter. Thank God this is a comedy. “What are you doing to me?”
“Do you want me to stop?”
“God, no.”
“Do you want more?”
“Yes.” After a moment no longer than a heartbeat, he added, “Please.”
He almost cried out loud when Sam pulled his foot away. His hand untangled a moment after. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw him lean toward Connie, whisper something in her ear. She nodded and took his popcorn.
Without ever looking back, Sam rose from his seat and slipped past Connie for the aisle, his head ducked low in order not to disturb the others behind them.
Elijah took a deep, steadying breath, and focused on the screen. It was difficult to measure the passage of time. Five minutes? Ten minutes? Thirty seconds? Elijah wasn’t sure. But when he felt like it wouldn’t seem too obvious that he was chasing Sam down, he leaned over and excused himself. Jane pulled her legs against the seat, giving him enough room to pass, and he moved quickly to the exit.
His groin was still tight when he emerged form the dark theater and into the bright, cool lobby. He blinked against the light, quickly searching the space for any sign of Sam. He wasn’t there, but Elijah wasn’t perturbed. He crossed the lobby and ducked into the restroom.
A strong hand gripped his shoulder and shoved him into the wall. He barely had time to register the sound of the door locking before Sam fused their mouths together, a repeat of the kiss back at the house. This time, though, Elijah bordered on desperate, and his hands clawed at Sam’s back, scratching at the muscle through his coat as he ground against Sam’s arousal.
“I could barely pay attention to the photographers,” Sam rasped between kisses. “God, the way you play them…I don’t know what you worry about. They’d drop to the ground and kiss your feet, if you asked them to.”
Elijah didn’t know what Sam was talking about, but he knew that it wasn’t photographers he wanted at his feet. The heat of Sam’s mouth intoxicated him until he felt a little addicted to it. He could hear the muffled soundtrack through the theater’s walls and still smell the mingled perfume and popcorn that made up the audience. The knowledge that he had to return to that weighed on him, but he wasn’t going to think about that now.
“Need you, Sam.” Another hard kiss. “You’ve got me so hard for you.”
“I’m right here.” He nibbled at Elijah’s jaw as his hands slid down. He pulled at the belt in his way, and in two swift strokes, Elijah’s pants were open, Sam’s fingers slithering in to curl around his cock. “Just tell me what you want.”
Elijah’s knees buckled at the sensation of flesh against flesh, skin against skin. He was so relieved to feel Sam’s hot hand, he almost didn’t want to ask for anything else. Until Sam’s tongue traced the curve of his ear.
“Want you on your knees. Want you to suck me.”
“Oh, thank God…”
The relief in Sam’s voice was palpable. Elijah ached at the thought of Sam wanting this as much as he did. He never doubted Sam’s commitment to their affair—though he loathed the notion of labeling it as such—but having the verbal reinforcement helped banish his fears about their future for a few more precious minutes.
Then he couldn’t think at all as Sam sank to the floor and shoved his clothes out of his way. He tilted his head and promptly sucked Elijah’s balls into his mouth, stroking his cock so that the throbbing underside nuzzled against Sam’s cheek.
“God…Sam…” He ran his fingers through Sam’s blond hair, caressing the back of his head. He moved his hand lower to Sam’s neck, his fingers tightening on the tense muscles as Sam increased the suction around his sac. Pre-come leaked from his tip, a few sticky strands clinging to Sam’s cheek, stretching between his face and Elijah’s cock. Can’t forget to clean him up before we leave.
Sam released him with a wet plop and dragged his lips along the vein running beneath his shaft. He glanced up through his lashes when he reached the crown, but rather than take it into his mouth like he had Elijah’s balls, he ringed the swollen ridge with the tip of his tongue. Hot breath wrapped around the length. Hotter fingers replaced where his mouth had been on the sac.
“You make me think there’s no such thing as enough,” Sam murmured.
For a moment, the satisfaction at hearing Sam’s soft declaration superseded the pleasure of his soft tongue. He tightened his fingers in Sam’s hair and forced his head back, until their eyes met. “There doesn’t have to be.”
Sam froze. It was the first time all night Elijah had had a good look into his eyes, and what he thought he saw there made his knees threaten to buckle.
The muffled roar of laughter reverberated through the walls. The spell broke, but only long enough for Sam swipe his tongue over the shiny slit. He twisted one hand around the base of Elijah’s cock, scraping against the rough hair, while the other toyed and pulled at his tight balls.
“I don’t want there to be,” he heard Sam say. Then Sam dropped his jaw, sucking the head and half the shaft into his hot mouth.
Elijah dropped his head back against the cool tile wall, his hand still tight on the back of Sam’s skull. He didn’t push Sam down farther onto his shaft, though he desperately wanted to thrust forward until he was completely buried in Sam’s throat. When he glanced up, the ceiling tilted above him. The only way to keep everything level and steady was to stare at Sam, watching his lips stretch tight around Elijah’s shaft, watching his cheeks hollow, noting the contrast between his eyelashes and his skin.
He began rocking
up and down, never going farther than halfway along the length, never quite making it up to the head. It kept the crown brushing against the back of his teeth, the suction tight around Elijah’s throbbing cock. When Sam moaned, Elijah felt it—in his skin, in his balls, in the very pit of his stomach. When he sighed, it was even better. Because then the fire of his breath finished warming what his mouth didn’t. And the heat sharpened everything down to the man who knelt at his feet.
“God, Sam…I’ve been thinking about this all day. Since this morning…when I saw you on set. Everybody was fluttering around you….fixing your makeup…checking the lighting…the whole world was moving around you.” Sam didn’t stop moving as Elijah spoke, and he caressed Sam’s face, and head, his fingers occasionally going to his shoulders. “I just wanted to push everybody out of the way. I love watching you.”
Sam moaned again. Watching him intently, he slid his hand away from the base in order to cup Elijah’s ass. In the next moment, his jaw dropped farther. He pulled at Elijah’s body, guiding him deeper into his mouth, not stopping even when the tip nudged the back. He swallowed, and both of them groaned in satisfaction as Elijah filled his throat.
Elijah had more to say, but when he opened his mouth, all he could do was moan Sam’s name. Sam’s teeth were a circle of sharp points brushing against the base of his cock—he could feel them, but it wasn’t quite enough pressure to hurt. The roof of his mouth was rough, vibrating each time Sam hummed or answered with a moan of his own. His tongue was soft, searching, tasting every bit of Elijah’s shaft that he could. And his throat was tight, constricting around his head with each swallow.
Elijah had had plenty of blow jobs in his life. There were lots of good looking boys who would suck cock for a twenty or two. Others who didn’t want a payment, just the chance to suck off one of their favorite movie stars. A few who had been actual boyfriends. But none of them could even begin to touch Sam in terms of enthusiasm and skill.
Sam pulled up, gasping for air for only a split second before devouring Elijah back down again. Fingers probed the crack of his ass, tracing over the tight hole, but it was hard to know which maddened him more—the teasing exploration or the hot channel engulfing his cock.
When Sam looked up at him, his pale eyes shining, Elijah realized it was neither. It was the man himself.
Elijah knew Connie and Jane would start missing them. Worried that some audience member who had downed too much Coca-Cola would knock on the door soon, Elijah cupped both sides of Sam’s head, his palms over the ears. Sam didn’t resist Elijah’s hold. In fact, he seemed to relax into the touch, as though waiting for Elijah to guide him, to show him exactly what he wanted.
With a groan, Elijah held his head and began pumping his hips. Sam never looked away from him, his eyes shining as Elijah fucked his mouth.
Sam swallowed with every thrust. He whimpered with every swallow. His fingers probed with every clench, finally pushing past the outer ring to search for Elijah’s prostate. He didn’t need the added stimulation. The swelter of Sam’s lips and tongue were enough to drive him crazy, the friction intensifying each time he snapped his hips. His balls slapped against Sam’s chin, a needed sting to counter the ecstasy, but quickly, not even that was enough to work. Everything exploded in a riot of heat and pressure and fingers, his body wracking as he stuffed his cock as far inside Sam’s throat as he could get.
Elijah turned his head quickly, trying to muffle his shout against his own shoulder. It was hard to bite back the sound, because colors seemed to be melting around him, and Sam swallowed with each spasm of his shaft. His cock kept twitching against the walls of Sam’s throat as long as Sam massaged his prostate. He shook. His neck was slick with sweat. His chest was burning. The pressure continued until he wondered if Sam was actually trying to kill him. He almost begged Sam to stop, but he could never actually form those words. So he just held his breath until finally Sam leaned back, and the pressure subsided.
“Good God.” He curled his hands around Sam’s lapels and hauled him to his feet, slamming his mouth against Sam’s salty lips.
Sam opened without hesitation, sharing the taste with each swipe of his tongue. His body merged against Elijah’s, pinning him to the wall, and in spite of his liquid knees, Elijah felt the first stirring of his cock again as Sam ground his erection into his hip.
“As soon as we get home, I’m going to fuck you until we both pass out,” Sam promised against his mouth.
He felt the promise more than he heard it, and it seemed to wind through him, starting at his throat and working its way down to his toes.
“I’m going to hold you to that.”
“Hold me to anything you want.”
He was panting when he peeled away. Elijah wanted to grab Sam and yank him back, but he knew they had already risked too much being gone as long as they had been. Sam ran his hand over his hair, leaning sideways to glance in the mirror and check his appearance one last time. When he straightened, he looked flushed but more composed. Certainly more composed than Elijah felt.
“Only another hour to go.” Sam turned the lock and cast him a brilliant smile. “Then you’re all mine.”
The smile lingered on Elijah’s brain even after Sam left him alone.
Chapter 6
Driving gave Sam an easy out. He had to concentrate on the road, navigate through the throng to escape the premiere with the rest of the celebrities. If his conversation lagged, he could joke it off on the traffic. The girls didn’t have to know that his thoughts were consumed with Elijah, his nerves a wreck from the denial of his own needs during the movie. Every time he licked his lips, he tasted Elijah all over again. His ears rang with the sound of Elijah’s muttered curse after his orgasm, when he’d dragged Sam to his feet and proceeded to devour his mouth. Even his palms still tingled from the heat of clutching at the other man’s skin.
He looked forward to finally getting Elijah alone and doing all the things they wanted. But more than that, his gut clenched in anticipation of a night spent in Elijah’s bed, of waking in his arms without worrying about where one or the other had to rush to. For a few hours this weekend, he could pretend that he wasn’t about to be done working with the most amazing man he had ever met. That they didn’t have lives that made more than an illicit hour here or there impossible. They could just be Sam and Eli, and the rest of the world could go fuck themselves.
Though it was pitch black outside, he stole every opportunity he could to glance at Elijah in his rearview mirror. There was always something new. A cock of a brow that shared more secrets than any words he might utter. A new shade he’d pick out in his dark eyes. A moment of vulnerability before Elijah put the mask he wore for the public back on.
Sam liked those best. He liked to imagine that nobody ever saw those moments except him. In his fantasies, Elijah saved his true face for him and him alone. He’d certainly shared enough of himself with Elijah. More and more, he felt like the only time he was truly relaxed was when they were together. And alone.
He dropped Connie off first. She lived closer to the theater than Jane. He parked at the curb and walked her to her door, his hands in his pockets as he kept a pace behind.
She paused before slipping her key in the lock.
“Billy Wilder was asking why you were gone so long in the middle of the movie.” Her tone was neutral, but the sideways shift of her eyes said enough. “I told him I spilled my soda on you, and you were cleaning it up.”
His cheeks colored. He’d hoped his absence wouldn’t be noted. He owed Connie big for covering for him.
“Thanks,” he said, and prayed she heard how sincerely he meant it. He waited until she’d opened the door before grabbing its edge and holding it for her. “You really did look beautiful tonight, you know.”
Connie flashed a brilliant smile. “As long as the photos look good, that’s all that matters.”
“With you in them? They can’t go wrong.”
She hovered on the threshold. I
n the darkness, he barely caught the flicker of her eyes past his shoulder to the parked car, but it was there, all right. As was the fading of her smile. “Just be careful, Sam, okay? You’ve worked too hard to mess it up now.”
Leaning in, he brushed a kiss across her cheek. “I’m always careful.” He straightened and retreated off the front step. “I’ll call you when we wrap. Nicky wants to throw a pool party.”
A perfectly groomed eyebrow lifted. “You in swim trunks around Elijah in swim trunks? That’s not exactly my definition of careful.” She grinned. “Though it’ll be fun to watch.”
He joined her laughter as he waved goodbye, but every step back to the car weighed him down. After next weekend, there wouldn’t be any more excuses to see Elijah on a daily basis. Nicky’s party would likely be the last time he could use as a valid reason to spend time with him. He wasn’t even entirely sure Elijah would want to extend their affair after they wrapped. Neither man had said a word about their future. They were too busy enjoying the pleasure of the present.
Sam hoped Elijah could move to the front seat once they dropped off Connie, but he stayed in the back beside Jane. He wished that it didn’t bother him. The cameras didn’t stop flashing just because they were driving through quiet neighborhoods. One could never tell where a photographer would be hiding, waiting to get a candid photo for those pulp magazines that were so popular. The worst part was that if everything had been entirely innocent between them, Elijah could sit in the front without concern.
“Thank you,” Jane said, leaning over the front seat once he stopped outside her small house. “It was a pleasure meeting you.”