by L. A. Witt
Especially when the distraction in question was exactly what he wanted—Wes. Horny, breathless, playful Wes.
Up ahead, a light turned red. It didn’t frustrate Reggie, though. Hello, opportunity.
As soon as he’d stopped the car, Reggie turned and kissed Wes. Immediately, they were both out of breath, all lips and tongues and lust, no one really in control. Reggie’s dick pressed against the inside of his jeans, the zipper digging in uncomfortably, and God, it took all he had not to get this fucking seat belt out of the way and lay Wes down across the seats and—
A horn honked behind him.
“Fuck!” Reggie broke away and accelerated through the green light.
“Sorry about that,” Wes said, chuckling.
“Sure you are.” Reggie shot him a good-natured glare and was rewarded with two fingers tracing the inseam of his jeans. “Shit, Wes….”
“Want me to stop?”
Reggie put his hand over Wes’s, not sure if he was trying to guide it higher or keep it safely away from his erection.
“That’s what I thought.”
“Mm-hmm.” Reggie glanced at him. “You do have condoms with you, right? And lube?”
Wes blushed. “I always have them when I travel.”
“Yeah?” Reggie grinned. “Like to mingle with the locals, eh?”
Laughing, Wes squeezed Reggie’s leg. “Usually just wishful thinking.”
“Well, at least you’re prepared. Otherwise we’d have to stop somewhere. Or go all the way back to my place.”
Up ahead, the motel came into view. His cock pressed even harder against his zipper. Wes’s fingers twitched on Reggie’s leg. The engine whined as Reggie gave it a little more gas.
He parked in front of Wes’s room, got out of the car, and damn near sprinted up to the door. For the second time in twenty-four hours, Reggie was thankful for the ground-floor room. He could barely move in these jeans now anyway—going up stairs would have been hell.
Wes keyed them into the room. And there, they faced each other, the heavy curtains blocking out the daylight and no one around to give them a reason not to do this. The door was closed, the day was theirs, but for a moment, neither of them moved. They stared at each other. Wes’s eyes were gleaming with both lust and nerves, and Reggie had no doubt his were too.
This was really happening. Wes was gay, and willing, and here, and—
Coming toward him.
Grabbing on to him.
Kissing him.
The second their lips met, Reggie shook out of that momentary paralysis, and he kissed Wes back with even more fervor. They weren’t getting anywhere with removing clothes, but to hell with it, they could do plenty with their clothes on, and Reggie still couldn’t believe they were even here.
Then Wes dropped to his knees and opened Reggie’s pants so fast, Reggie was surprised he didn’t bust the zipper. He was just glad to have that pressure off his cock, and holy fuck, what came next almost made him lose it on the spot.
Wes sucked dick like a drowning man gulped water. He couldn’t get enough. Fast, deep, hard—Reggie could’ve fucked his face the way he wanted to fuck his ass, and Wes probably would’ve come in his pants.
“D-don’t make me come yet.” He pushed Wes’s forehead, and when Wes sat back, letting Reggie’s cock slide out of his mouth, Reggie gasped for breath. “Jesus, you’re amazing at that.”
Wes grinned. “Good thing you give me plenty to work with, eh?”
Reggie laughed. Then, stroking Wes’s cheek, he said, “I want you on the bed on your knees.”
“Yeah?” Still grinning, Wes rose. “Why’s that?”
“Because I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk.”
Wes’s eyes widened and his breath hitched.
Right then, it dawned on Reggie that they’d never actually sorted out logistics. He touched Wes’s face. “I guess I should ask: Are you a top or a bottom?”
“Definitely a bottom.” Wes gulped. “I just haven’t… in a long time.”
Reggie held his face in both hands and kissed him. “I won’t hurt you.”
Wes grinned, sending shivers straight to Reggie’s dick. “I didn’t say I didn’t want you to hurt me.”
Reggie blinked. Oh dear God. How had they not already fucked a thousand times before? Wes was every aphrodisiac that worked on him, rolled up into one incredibly sexy package. Even the way he undid his tie—hooking a finger in it and pulling it open while their eyes were locked—fucked with Reggie’s mind.
“I’ve got plenty of condoms.” Wes pulled the tie free and started on the buttons of his white dress shirt. “Maybe you should get your clothes off.”
Reggie wasn’t arguing with that, and they both stripped.
Jesus Christ. Fully dressed, Wes looked like he’d just strolled out of a menswear ad, but naked? He was gorgeous. He was incredibly lean—no six-pack or bulging biceps, but perfectly proportioned and trim. Not a tattoo on him either. Dark hair fanned across his chest as well as forming a little strip from his navel south.
As Reggie kicked his boots out of the way and dropped his jeans and boxers on top of them, he caught Wes checking him out too. Their eyes met again, and they both grinned as they closed the tiny space between them.
“Didn’t you say something about fucking me?” Wes murmured between kisses.
“I did.” Reggie slid his hands over Wes’s bare, toned ass. “You in a hurry or something?”
Wes wrapped his fingers around Reggie’s cock. “Now that I’ve seen what you’re fucking me with?” He squeezed just enough to make Reggie gasp. “You’d better believe it.”
“Then you’d better turn around,” Reggie whispered, struggling to catch his breath.
Wes kissed him, still stroking his cock as he did, and Reggie couldn’t resist fucking into his fist. God, it felt so good, both the friction and the kiss. He was going to come, he just knew it, but right about then, he didn’t really care.
But Wes stopped. “Guess I should grab those condoms, shouldn’t I?”
“Uh-huh.”
Wes did as promised, and then he got on his hands and knees. Reggie went for the lube first. He wanted nothing more than to be balls-deep in Wes, but he didn’t want to actually hurt him. And if it had been a while, then a little prep would go a long way. Might even mean the difference between a first fuck and an only fuck.
With two slick fingers, he pressed into Wes, shivering when Wes moaned and leaned back to take him deeper.
“Not hurting you, am I?”
“Not at all.”
“Good.” After a few strokes, he added a third finger. Wes’s arms shook, but he held himself up, and as Reggie carefully stretched him, Wes rocked back against him, fucking himself on Reggie’s hand.
“Like that?” Reggie asked.
“I’ll like your dick even better.”
“Patience.” Reggie ran his other hand up the middle of Wes’s spine. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Wes started to protest, but Reggie crooked his fingers downward, and whatever the man was about to say turned into a soft moan.
He recovered, though, and ground out, “You’re not gonna hurt me. Just fuck me before I hurt you.”
Reggie shivered. Any witty response he might have had evaporated because this helpless aggression turned him on like nothing else. Without a word, he slid his fingers free and went for the strip of condoms. He tore one off and put it on as quickly as he could. Lube too. He’d been perfectly content to tease Wes, but now he was desperate.
He knelt behind Wes’s upraised ass, and, a little at a time, worked himself inside. As much as he wanted to fuck Wes hard enough to hurt both of them, he wanted to enjoy this. How long had he been fantasizing about Wes? And now it wasn’t his hand around his own dick. He was inside Wes, moving slowly, smoothly, watching his cock slide in and out while he tried to remember how to fucking breathe.
Wes, however, had other plans.
He thrust back against Re
ggie. “Harder, damn it.”
“Harder?”
“Yes.”
Reggie slammed into him as hard as he could, then stopped. He grabbed Wes’s hair and jerked his head back. “You seem to be confused about who’s in charge here.”
Wes froze, goose bumps springing up all over his skin. “I….”
Hand still in Wes’s hair, Reggie pushed him all the way down to the mattress and held him there.
“Stay just like that,” he growled. When he released Wes’s hair, the producer didn’t move. He stayed there, facedown with his ass up. “Don’t move.”
“I won’t,” Wes whimpered. “Just… please….”
Reggie thrust in again, as hard as before, driving a yelp out of him. “That how you like it?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” Reggie forced himself in again and again, and Wes whimpered softly, clutching at the sheets beneath him. God, this pretty boy was hot like this, bent over with his ass in the air, taking Reggie and begging for more. He probably made the most amazing sounds when he came too. Maybe he’d even get tears in his eyes.
And that thought alone was enough to bring Reggie too close to the edge to hold back anymore. A shudder went through him, and he almost lost his rhythm, but recovered.
“Don’t come,” he panted. “Don’t… don’t you dare come. I’m not… done….” His breath caught and his eyes rolled back. He couldn’t finish the thought as he finished himself, fucking Wes deep and hard as his orgasm clouded his vision.
He’d barely started coming down when he carefully, if a bit shakily, pulled out. “On your back.”
As Reggie quickly disposed of the condom, Wes obeyed without hesitation. He turned over, his limbs as shaky as Reggie’s.
Reggie returned, and he went down on Wes with all the enthusiasm Wes had gone down on him earlier. Wes groaned and thrust up into Reggie’s mouth, pushing the limits of his gag reflex. Reggie didn’t mind—he loved this. Fucking loved it. When a guy was so turned on he couldn’t hold himself back, and when he got aggressive and forceful. He groaned himself, keeping a tight grasp on Wes’s dick to turn him on even more as well as to keep him from going too far into his throat.
“Oh my God.” Wes sounded like he was on the verge of sobbing. He gripped Reggie’s hair painfully tight and fucked his mouth hard. A shudder went through him, and he moaned, “Gonna… gonna come.”
Reggie squeezed Wes’s cock just right, and with a helpless whimper, Wes came. Semen shot into Reggie’s throat, and fortunately he was ready for it, and he didn’t choke, just kept drawing out Wes’s orgasm until a gentle, if slightly clumsy nudge to his forehead told him to stop.
He released Wes’s dick and pushed himself up, and immediately, Wes dragged him down into a breathless, frantic kiss.
Reggie needed air, though, and broke the kiss after a few seconds, and both of them just trembled and panted.
“Jesus,” Wes whispered.
“I usually last longer than that,” Reggie slurred. “Let me recover, and—”
Wes silenced him with a quick kiss. “I don’t think I could’ve taken much more. That was intense.”
“Consider it a warm-up,” Reggie growled.
Wes shivered.
They shared a quick shower in the cramped bathroom, then returned to bed.
As they lay together, a sheet over them and their arms draped lazily over each other, Reggie couldn’t shake the feeling that reality was settling back in. The kiss in his office had cut off his train of thought about the show, but now that they’d finally broken this tension and fucked like he’d been wanting to for ages, his mind kept drifting back to the other unfinished business.
Guess I can’t ignore it forever.
He turned onto his side. “I know this is the worst possible time and place to discuss business, but….”
Wes laughed. “I don’t know. Beats the hell out of a conference room.”
“True.” Reggie chuckled. Humor fading, he went on. “I need you to be honest with me.”
Swallowing hard, Wes nodded.
“Were you serious about what you said last night?” Reggie raised his eyebrows. “That the network is using the bachelor show to squeeze me out of Wrench Wars?”
Wes groaned, more color rushing into his already flushed face. “Listen, I’m not supposed to tell you any of this, but…. Shit, I’m already sleeping with you, so what’s a little breach of confidentiality on top of it?” He gave a soft, humorless laugh.
Reggie didn’t laugh. He pushed himself up onto his arm and looked down at Wes. “What’s really going on? I know you’re not supposed to tell me, but….”
Wes took a breath. “They don’t want you to do the bachelor show. They know damn well you won’t be on board with it. And if there’s anyone affiliated with the show who’s least likely to persuade you to get on board with it?” He tapped the center of his own chest.
Reggie swallowed. “Then why….”
Wes closed his eyes and ran a hand through his sweaty hair. “Because they want you off Wrench Wars, and they can’t get rid of you. You negotiated an airtight contract, so they can’t just boot you for no reason. But you left in the clause about spin-offs and related shows. Refusing to take part in those is considered a breach of contract.”
Reggie arched an eyebrow. “And this actually qualifies as a legitimate spin-off?”
“When it’s mechanic-themed, yes.”
Groaning, Reggie rubbed a hand over his face. He’d pushed hard to get the best contract possible so his shop didn’t wind up getting screwed over the course of the show. He’d been so wrapped up in all the other clauses, this one had barely registered on his—or his lawyer’s—radar. It had never dawned on him they might approach him with something like this.
“So what do I do? Let them fire me and my crew?”
Wes shook his head and sighed. “I couldn’t tell you, honestly.”
Reggie thought for a moment. Then, “What if I agree to do the show?”
Reggie thought he actually felt Wes’s stomach flip.
“What?”
“Hypothetically.” Reggie slid a hand up Wes’s chest, combing his fingers through the fine hair. “You said they’ll go through with it if I agree to it, right?”
“Uh, yeah.”
Reggie couldn’t help grinning. “Leave this one to me. I have an idea.”
THE NEXT day, Wes came with Reggie to meet with his lawyer, who spent the hour-long meeting alternating between laughing at the network’s audacity and cursing its shittiness. By the time all was said and done, there was a plan of attack in place, and Reggie was confident that they could pull this off.
He was also confident that if he didn’t get some alcohol into his gullet right fucking now, he was going to break something.
And fortunately, Wes was driving.
Sitting in the back of the bar, two tables over from where he’d found Wes drinking himself senseless the other night, Reggie took a deep swallow of beer. They were planning to stay here for a while, so Wes was having a beer as well—he’d said he was limiting himself to two, and they’d just linger here until he was sober enough to drive.
“So,” Wes said. “You feel any better after that meeting?”
“A lot better, yeah.”
“How do you think it’ll go?”
Reggie arched an eyebrow. “You work with these guys. You tell me.”
Wes blew out a breath. “Guess we’ll see how hard they’re willing to push.”
Nodding, Reggie picked at the label on his beer bottle. “Yeah. And I’m nervous, but I think we can do this.” He tore a chunk off the label and dropped it beside the napkin dispenser. “I’m just fucking pissed that they’re trying to manipulate me, and they’re using my guys’ livelihood to do it.”
“That’s how they do things,” Wes muttered. “Believe me. You’re not the first.”
Reggie laughed bitterly. “I’m not even the first on Wrench Wars. I still can’t believe what they did
to Chandler and Mark.”
Rolling his eyes, Wes shook his head. “You know what’s really messed up? To this day, everyone there thinks that was one of the best publicity stunts we’ve ever pulled off.”
Reggie stared at him. “Seriously?”
Wes nodded. “The public wanted heads to roll, so Jim Irving’s shop was booted, and everyone involved in blackmailing Chandler was canned. Ratings went through the roof because everyone thought the network did the right thing, and they wanted to show their support.” He scowled. “If they only knew how many people who supported all that bullshit still work there.”
For a long moment, Reggie studied him. “Did you support it?”
“I didn’t work there at the time. And if I had, no, I wouldn’t have.”
“But would you have gone along with it?”
Sighing, Wes dropped his gaze. “You know what? Probably. I can’t even lie. It’s par for the course when you work in television. You do shitty things to people who don’t deserve it.” His eyes flicked up and met Reggie’s. “I’ve done things I’m not proud of in the name of ratings and revenue. But there does come a point when you just realize you’re going into work every day and renewing Satan’s lease on your soul.”
Reggie generally loathed everyone who worked for the network, but more and more, Wes’s humanity was coming out. “You’re not like the others.”
“I’d like to think that.” Wes swallowed. “I was like them in the beginning. Ambition, it… it does weird things to you. You put on blinders and tell yourself it’s okay. But it’s not. It never was. Never will be.” He brought his beer up to his lips. “I don’t know how any of my coworkers sleep at night, and I don’t know how I did up until recently.”
“Are you going to keep working for them?”
“What can I do?” Wes was nearly whispering. He put his bottle down and idly turned it between his long fingers. “TV is what I’m good at. And if I leave, someone else will show up with the same kind of morals as everyone else.”