Safe

by Jess Bryant

  He didn’t dare ask the question he wanted to ask. Again. Which was… What the hell?

  He went through the motions, turning on the shower to let it heat up and brushing his teeth as his brain tried to catch up with reality and put together his night. They’d gone for drinks. He’d gotten really drunk. He shouldn’t have because drinking with Trevor was a bad idea. He’d known it was a bad idea, but he hadn’t stopped himself when they’d gotten on that elevator alone and he’d…

  Oh shit…he’d told Trevor he wanted to kiss him.

  It hit him then. Sobriety. Consciousness. Reality. It hit him and he knew; his dream hadn’t been a dream. The images of shoving Trevor against the elevator wall and then being pinned himself, those weren’t fantasies. They were memories.

  His breath caught, and his head shot up as the hair on the back of his neck stood on edge. His jerked his head up and darted his eyes up to meet the blue laser beams behind him in the mirror. Trevor was standing in the doorway of the bathroom, his shoulder against the wall as if he was holding the entire damn building up. His biceps bulged where he’d crossed his arms over his chest. He was still shirtless, but he’d pulled on his pants. Half-naked and hard-edged, he pushed up from the wall, and Cruz didn’t dare breathe, let alone move.

  “I was wondering how long it would take you to remember.”

  Cruz swallowed hard. “I…you…”

  “Yeah.” Trevor moved in behind him at the vanity, one hand going to the edge, boxing Cruz in, and the other sliding around his waist and up his chest as he pressed against Cruz from behind and rubbed his stubbled jaw against his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

  Cruz felt his heart fall into his stomach. “You’re sorry?”

  “Mhmm.” Trevor pressed a soft kiss against his neck, and Cruz fought a shiver.

  “You’re sorry you responded when I hit on you, you mean?”

  “No.” Trevor’s blue eyes glanced up, meeting his in the mirror again, serious and heavy. “I’m not sorry about last night. None of it. I’m sorry I can’t seem to keep my hands off you now. I swore I would. I promised myself I would wait until we had time to talk, so I could explain things, explain myself… But we’re running late and there’s no time and I want you so bad it fucking hurts.”

  Cruz groaned and arched into Trevor’s touch as the words he’d never expected sank deep inside him. He bit his lip to quell a whimper when Trevor’s big hand slid lower, playing with the elastic band of his boxers. His entire body tingled as warm, wet lips trailed up to his ear.

  “Can I touch you?”

  The words whispered at his ear made him shudder. “You are.”

  “Give me permission, Rodrigo.” Trevor bit into his earlobe, and he moaned in response. “You’re sober now and I want to hear the words. Tell me you want my hand on your cock, that you’re hard for me and you want me to get you off.”

  The request for permission tied to the demand nearly undid Cruz, and his cock throbbed. He rubbed his ass back against Trevor just to make sure he wasn’t being punked, but no. There it was. Trevor was hard for him too. This wasn’t a dream. It was a fantasy brought to life. Trevor wanted him too.

  “Yes. Fuck. Yes. Touch me, please.”

  Without a word, Trevor slid his hand beneath the elastic band and circled his fist around Cruz’s cock. He was already dripping precome, and like a pro Trevor slicked his palm over the head, teasing him, playing with his slit and then using the slickness to lube him up. Trevor worked his hand up and down Cruz’s thick shaft, and Cruz lost the ability to keep quiet.

  “Fuck. Fuck.” His hips shifted as his head fell back onto Trevor’s shoulder.

  “That’s it, baby,” Trevor growled at his ear. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to hear what you’d sound like if I touched you like this.”

  Cruz whined. His entire body was strung tight as a bow. Trevor’s big hand on his cock was driving him closer and closer to the edge. The husky words at his ear only made him harder.

  This was Trevor touching him. Trevor stroking his cock. Trevor who was going to make him come.

  “Oh God…” He groaned. “So close.”

  “Open your eyes,” Trevor ordered, and of their own accord, Cruz felt his lids flip open. “I want to see those gorgeous eyes when you come for me. Look at me. Don’t look away. Look at me.”

  “Trevor.” He gasped as his body spasmed, and he tried to keep his eyes open, he really did, but they fluttered shut as stream after stream of come shot from his cock. His body trembled and his knees went weak. He would have collapsed if Trevor hadn’t been there to catch him, to hold him up. He whimpered, “Trevor?”

  “You’re so goddamn beautiful.” Trevor’s voice was softer now. “So damn honest. Not like me.” His lips pressed to Cruz’s sensitive skin. “I’m so sorry I lied to you. I lie to everyone, but… I shouldn’t have lied to you.”

  Cruz’s head was still spinning. He was wrung out. The hangover headache was coming back, pounding along with the beat of his rapid heartbeat. His muscles felt soft and rubbery, and he wanted to curl back up in his bed. Preferably with Trevor wrapped around him. But he still couldn’t put together just how this had happened, how they had come to be wrapped around each other or what it meant.

  “You…lied?” He blinked, trying to refocus on Trevor’s words instead of just his touch.

  “I’m gay. I’ve always been gay. There’ve been other men but not many. I was too scared so I hid and… Then I met you.” Trevor’s blue eyes begged for something Cruz had no idea how to give him. “I’ve wanted you since the moment we met, but I knew I couldn’t have you.”

  “You…”

  Cruz wasn’t entirely sure what it was he’d been about to ask or say. He had so many questions. Trevor was gay. He’d been hiding in the closet all this time. He’d wanted Cruz from the start, just like Cruz had wanted him. But Trevor hadn’t said anything. He’d never made a move. Until now.

  Before he could gather his thoughts, a loud pounding sound came from just outside the bathroom. Cruz jumped and Trevor cursed. They instantly began to untangle, and Cruz let Trevor move him aside as he flipped on the faucet and washed the proof of what they’d just done down the sink. The pounding came again, and Cruz finally managed to connect reality with the mess of chaos in his head.

  Someone was knocking on the door of their hotel room.

  “Trev…”

  “Stop.” Trevor turned back to him quickly, blue eyes a little wild. “Don’t say anything. Please. Just…let me get the door. I’ll take care of it. Jump in the shower and then we’ll talk. Okay?”

  “Okay,” Cruz agreed on autopilot.

  Trevor’s blue eyes were heavy as they searched his face for something. Cruz stared right back, trying to figure out what had changed between them. Everything? Nothing? What had brought all of this on when Trevor had been denying himself for so long? Finally, Trevor pulled him close and placed a sweet, chaste kiss against his forehead.

  “I’ll explain everything. I promise. Just…don’t say anything to anyone yet.”

  Before Cruz could respond, Trevor turned and left the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. In the other room, Cruz could hear Trevor call out that he was coming, and the clatter of hangers suggested he’d pulled a shirt out of the closet. The sound of the outer door unlocking was loud, and then a familiar voice cut through the silence.

  “Jesus, Thorne. You look like shit.”

  “Back at you, asshole,” Trevor cursed. “What do you want, Allistair?”

  “I’m heading to breakfast. It’s last call, and Upton said you and Cruz hadn’t been down yet. You girls primping up here or you want to grab some food before the bus pulls out?”

  Cruz stayed perfectly still. Allistair was their teammate. He’d clearly been sent by their manager to check on them since they hadn’t shown for breakfast. He recalled Trevor telling him he’d let him sleep as long as he could, but there wasn’t a clock in the bathroom. He had no idea just how late they actu
ally were.

  “Cruz is running late. I’ll come down and get breakfast for us both so we don’t miss out.” Trevor spoke, and then he audibly raised his voice to be sure he was heard. “You hear that, Cruz? Hurry your lazy ass up or Upton’s gonna fine you for being late. I’m going down with Allistair.”

  Cruz’s throat felt like it was constricting. “Be down soon.”

  The outer door slammed shut, and with it, Cruz puffed out all the air in his lungs. He felt sick. Nauseous. And he didn’t think it was just the tequila still roiling in his gut.

  Don’t say anything.

  Trevor’s last words to him. Don’t say anything. He didn’t want anyone to know what had happened between them. He was still hiding. Maybe he really did just want to talk and work things out, make sure they were on the same page before they went public. But what if that wasn’t why he was reluctant to admit he was gay? What if, despite what he’d said, despite what they’d done, Trevor was still too scared to openly be with Cruz?

  Dammit. Cruz pushed his tangled hair back. He didn’t have time to dwell on his love life. He was covered in come. He needed a shower, and he needed to get his ass downstairs before Upton made the driver leave him.

  He had a game to play, and baseball always came first. Always. It was why he didn’t break his rules anymore. He never got involved with teammates. Ever. Especially not blond-haired, blue-eyed, godlike men who claimed they were straight but then jerked him off in private.

  Fuck. He killed the hot water and tapped the cold. His dick was already inflating again at the memory, and he couldn’t have that. It was impossible to play baseball with a bat in his pants.

  Chapter Four

  TREVOR HAD MADE a mistake. He knew he had. From the moment Cruz had walked down the stairs and met him at the bus, he’d known he’d made a mistake.

  He never should have left their room with Allistair. He shouldn’t have touched Cruz without explaining himself first. He should have told him the truth before he laid a hand on him. And he definitely shouldn’t have let Cruz brush him off when he’d taken his breakfast from him and then proceeded to put in his headphones and ignore Trevor for the entire ride to the stadium.

  But it wasn’t as if he could ask Cruz to talk to him in the middle of a group of their teammates. Not on the bus. Not in the locker room. Not in the dugout. So Trevor had let him get away with the cold shoulder act and tried to focus on the game.

  The game he loved. The sport he’d always put first in his life. Ahead of everything and everyone. Only he hadn’t been able to put his whole heart into it today like he always had before. Because his heart had been standing out by second base, and never had it felt further away from home plate.

  He’d played like shit. Peterson shrugged off almost all of his signals, and Trevor didn’t even blame him. His head wasn’t in the game. He even forgot about babying his knee and spun too fast after a pop fly, nearly going to the ground it stung so badly. He’d limped off the field at the end of the game and hadn’t been the least bit surprised when Upton had jerked him aside by the scruff of his collar.

  If he’d been the only one on the receiving end of the screaming rant Upton had gone off on, it wouldn’t have been so bad. But of course it wasn’t that simple. Nothing was simple anymore. Not since the moment he’d decided to give in to his urge and let Cruz see the real him.

  He wasn’t the only one that had played like shit. Cruz had too. Missing an easy double play and trying to call Marquise off an infield fly that had ultimately hit the ground between them. His head hadn’t been in the game either, and Upton had noticed and tore into him as well.

  Their manager had ripped them up one side and down the other, and he’d sworn if he ever caught the two of them in the hotel bar before a game again that he’d bench both their asses.

  Now their teammates were watching them with curious, wondering gazes. Trevor didn’t like it at all. It made him uncomfortable being the center of their attention. He’d avoided it for so long. Tried so hard to hide among the masses. Not to stand out or be noticed too much. He’d worried just the slightest wrong move would tell the world his secret.

  Now he didn’t like the stares because they were also staring at Cruz. Not that he had ever hidden his sexuality. He’d been open about it from the beginning. But that wasn’t why they were staring at Cruz. They were staring at him wondering what had gotten into the young phenom and if whatever it was would affect his trajectory, the one that until today had looked like he would be called up to the majors at any moment. Now his future might be in jeopardy, and it was all Trevor’s fault.

  He had to fix this. Fix them. And he had to do it now.

  “Cruz…” He reached for his friend’s arm when the bus stopped, and Cruz instantly jumped out of his seat.

  “No,” Cruz growled low, pulling his arm away almost viciously.

  Trevor winced but let him go. There were too many eyes on them already. Watching. Judging. Sensing the turmoil between them where there had never been any before. Trevor grabbed his own bag and followed Cruz up the aisle and off the bus.

  They ended up in an elevator with at least four other members of the team, and Cruz continued to ignore him. Trevor ground his teeth together and tried not to think about the last time they’d been in an elevator together. Last night, drunk and horny, they’d been pressed together shoulder to knee, erection to erection, a bare breath separating their lips. And now Cruz wouldn’t even look at him, wouldn’t even…

  Trevor snapped to attention as the realization hit him like a baseball bat to the head.

  He hadn’t kissed him. Earlier, this morning, he hadn’t kissed Cruz. He’d been so focused on wanting him, wanting to touch him and wanting to make him come, that he’d somehow missed an important step. He hadn’t kissed Cruz.

  Looking at their interaction in the bathroom with that knowledge, it wasn’t quite the magical moment he’d spent all day thinking it was. It felt cheap. Like he’d used Cruz, even if he hadn’t gotten off himself. It was just a quick jerk off, a hand from a friend. It wasn’t special, and his leaving the moment it was over only made it look worse.

  God, he was an idiot.

  The elevator stopped on their floor, and everyone got off. A few of the guys were joking and jabbing at one another, making plans for the night. Cruz stormed straight toward their room without a glance at anyone. Trevor shrugged off an invite to go see a movie and followed his friend to their room.

  He winced when Cruz let the door all but slam in his face and pushed into the room after him. He flipped the lock after them and dropped his bag to the floor. He watched Cruz drop his own bag on his bed and then stalk to the far end of the room and stare out the window, his hands on his hips.

  Trevor moved slowly, not wanting to make the situation worse. “Cruz?”

  He didn’t get an answer. Not even a flinch. Cruz didn’t turn around to even look at him.

  “Rodrigo?” he tried, taking another step closer, but when he still didn’t get a response he sighed. “Baby, please, look at me.”

  “Don’t call me that.” Cruz spun around suddenly, and there was so much anger and hurt on his handsome face that Trevor’s heart squeezed painfully in his chest. “Don’t call me that like this morning meant something when it…”

  Trevor covered the distance between them in two long steps and grabbed Cruz with both hands. He slammed their lips together. Hard. Their teeth collided, and he pulled back slightly. He expected Cruz to push him away, had prepared himself to hold on tight, but what he hadn’t expected was for Cruz to pull him closer.

  He groaned when Cruz kissed him this time. It was still rough. Angry. But it was demanding and aggressive too. Needy. Trevor returned the kiss as best he could. It was slightly awkward. The both of them struggling for control. They stumbled as they battled for dominance, and Trevor shoved hard, backing Cruz against the wall.

  He bit Cruz’s lip so hard he thought it might leave a bruise and liked the idea of marking this man s
o much, he did it again. Cruz made a sound. That sound. The small, needy one in the back of his throat. The one that drove Trevor out of his mind.

  Trevor pulled back, gasping for air. “It meant something. It meant everything. You mean everything to me.”

  “You can’t mean that.”

  “I do.” He brushed their panting lips together softly. “You really think after all this time hiding in the closet I’d risk everything by coming out if I wasn’t crazy in love with you?”

  Cruz’s dark eyes widened. “Love?”

  “Don’t freak out on me.” Trevor managed a small smile. “I don’t expect you to say it back. Not yet. I haven’t done a thing to earn it, but I will. I swear to you I will. Because I love you.”

  “Say it again,” Cruz whispered, a shell-shocked expression taking over his handsome face.

  “I love you.”

  Cruz lunged for him then, smashing their lips together, and Trevor groaned and gave in to it. For so long he’d dreamed of what it would be like to kiss Cruz. Now he was. He was kissing him, and Cruz was kissing him back.

  Better yet, despite starting it, Cruz submitted when Trevor took control of the kiss. Somehow he’d always known he would. He’d seen the way Cruz’s pupils dilated whenever he took an authoritative tone with him. And it pushed every one of his buttons.

  He dragged Cruz’s bottom lip between his teeth until he gasped, and then Trevor took advantage. He slipped his tongue out, tracing the spot he’d bitten and then delving deeper. He only meant to take a sip, to ease into it, but Cruz’s taste overwhelmed him, and he groaned.

  Cruz whimpered and tugged him even closer. Melding their bodies together. Their erections pressed together through the denim of their jeans. Trevor steadied himself with one hand against the wall and then let his hips drop, grinding them together as their tongues tangled.