Cherry Pop (Mercury Rising Book 3)

by Samantha Kane

  Or he was probably just checking up on him. That sounded like something Tripp would do. Today had been Ben’s first Spartan Race, and it had nearly kicked his ass. It probably had nothing to do with that kiss the other night, or being lonely and frustrated because he couldn’t stop thinking about Ben. Ben was projecting his own issues onto Tripp. He’d always been good at that.

  Tripp Lanier: Hello?

  Ben grabbed his phone and quickly typed.

  Yes. Can’t sleep.

  Instead of an answering text, there was a knock on his door. Ben panicked and dropped his phone. His heart began hammering in his chest. Was it Tripp? Of course it was Tripp. Should he get the door? He’d already admitted he was awake. If he just lay here, Tripp would probably leave. That was for the best. When guys knocked on your door at one a.m., they were usually looking for one thing, and Ben had already declared Tripp wasn’t getting that from him. But he didn’t even think Tripp really wanted that from him. So maybe that wasn’t what Tripp was looking for. Ben was probably panicking for no reason. After all, Tripp had said Ben was the only one who understood what he was going through.

  Ben couldn’t leave him hanging if he needed to talk. Tripp had shown himself to be a good friend and Ben wanted to be that for Tripp if nothing else. Surely this past week and the race today had proven they were still friends. He swung his feet over the side of the bed just as another, quieter knock came, as if Tripp didn’t want to leave without giving it one more try, but he didn’t want to be pushy. That made Ben smile. Tripp had already shown he wasn’t afraid to push sometimes.

  Ben flipped on the dim light in the tiny entryway and unlocked the door. Tripp was standing there in the dark, several paces away, at the top of the steps, as if he’d been about to leave when he saw the light. His hands were shoved in the pockets of a pair of baggy cargo shorts and he looked guilty.

  “Sorry,” he said.

  “For showing up at one a.m. unannounced?” Ben asked. He leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms, not sure whether or not it was a good idea to ask Tripp inside.

  “That too,” Tripp said, confusing Ben.

  “Too?” he asked. “What else have you done?”

  “Well…” Tripp took a couple of steps closer. “That text I sent was kind of a set up.”

  Ben laughed lightly. “It was. You’re forgiven. For both.”

  “Why are you awake?” Tripp asked. He leaned against the opposite side of the door, facing Ben.

  “Too hot,” Ben said. He straightened. “Come on in. We’re letting all the mosquitoes in.” He held the door open as Tripp slipped past him, Tripp’s arm brushing against his bare chest. It made Ben shiver.

  Tripp stopped a few steps in and waited for Ben to close the door. “It is hot in here,” Tripp said. “Is your air conditioning working right?”

  “I don’t know. Probably not. I don’t remember it being this hot in here before.”

  “I’ll check it out tomorrow morning,” Tripp said. “Too dark now. Can you stand it for tonight?”

  “Sure,” Ben said with a shrug. “I thought I was still sweating from that damn race today.”

  Tripp laughed and walked into the dark living room. “I know. Sorry I got you into that too.”

  “Don’t be,” Ben said. “I loved it. I had a blast.”

  “All right then,” Tripp said, relief in his voice. “Good. I was worried. You left to go home pretty quick.”

  “So did you,” Ben said. He stood right on the edge of the carpet, the line that divided the entryway from the living room. No fancy architecture in this house. He crossed his arms, suddenly feeling vulnerable in his boxers when Tripp was dressed. Even though it was just shorts and a T-shirt and flip-flops, it was more than Ben had on. “You were acting really strange.”

  “I was feeling really strange,” Tripp said. He wandered around the room. “I guess I still am. I was just out driving around and found myself here.” He stopped and stared at the single piece of art on the wall, a cheap reproduction of a Picasso dachshund sketch purchased at Target in Wilmington. “You haven’t got anything personal here,” he observed. “Why not?” He faced Ben from across the room.

  “I never meant to stay that long. I still have a condo in L.A. I left everything there. I just got the bare bones for this house when I rented it. The deal with Brian was that once I got the data center up and running, I’d be going back to California. Now he’s changing the deal. He wants me to stay until he gets the Mercury Foundation established too, and the education center.”

  “The Mercury Foundation?” Tripp asked. “That what he’s calling it?”

  “Yes, that’s what he’s decided on. Do you like it?”

  Tripp nodded. “So will everyone else,” he said. “Although they would have liked any name he chose. Man can do no wrong. Saved the town. Marrying Evan. They’ll probably want to rename the place after him”

  “Oh God.” Ben laughed. “He’s already so full of himself he probably expects it. I don’t know how Evan puts up with him.”

  “He’s your friend, right?” Tripp walked toward him again.

  “Yes, although there are times I deny it.” He watched warily, but Tripp stopped at the couch and sat down. “Want something to drink?” Ben asked, heading to the kitchen. “I’m getting a glass of water.”

  “Water sounds good,” Tripp said. “Unless you got Cheerwine. You got any?”

  “If I say yes, you’ll make fun of me, won’t you?” Ben opened his refrigerator door and pulled out a pitcher of filtered water. He grabbed a bottle of Cheerwine for Tripp.

  “No, I won’t,” Tripp said. “I knew as soon as you tasted it you’d love it.”

  “Won’t the caffeine keep you awake?”

  “I’m already awake,” Tripp said. “And it’s not from caffeine.”

  “True enough.” Ben poured himself a glass of water and carried it and the Cheerwine out to the living room. He handed Tripp his bottle and sat down on the couch near the end, as far from Tripp as he could get. No sense pushing his luck. He stretched his neck to the side trying to work out the kink there.

  “Hurt yourself?” Tripp asked. He was frowning as he watched Ben rub his neck.

  “Yeah, I think I did it on the hoist. The weight dropped sharply on the way down and I had to jerk the rope and pulled something. My neck and shoulder are killing me. I should probably ice it down again. I did earlier, but the ice pack got too warm.”

  “Here,” Tripp said. He took a drink and then set his bottle down. “Turn around. I’ve got a lot of experience with this. I played football when I was younger, and I’m always doing something to myself on the job or biking or whatever.”

  He scooted closer and Ben had to fight the urge to bolt. This had “bad idea” written all over it.

  “Come on,” Tripp cajoled. “Let me massage it a little. It’ll help.”

  With a sigh, Ben gave in. He was tired, his neck was killing him, and he actually wanted the massage. And he wanted Tripp’s hands on him. He should kick his own ass for being a fool, but he was too tired to fight it.

  When Tripp gripped his neck just right and pinched it gently, working the knot there, Ben moaned it felt so good. Tripp’s laugh was little more than a light puff of air against his neck. “That good, huh?” he asked quietly.

  “That good,” Ben said, a little breathless. He attempted to keep the conversation from veering off into forbidden territory. “It’s been killing me. I’m going to hurt for a week after today.”

  “I hope not,” Tripp said. He sounded distracted as he found the knot in Ben’s shoulder and pressed.

  “Holy shit,” Ben said between gritted teeth as the pain radiated up to his temple and pounded there. “Don’t stop. That’s the spot.”

  “I know,” Tripp said. “I could tell. You’re really tense.” He eased up and then gently rubbed the same spot, soothing it.

  As the pain subsided, Ben became conscious of Tripp’s fingers on his skin. He had calluses, but
his touch was warm and feather-light, as if he wasn’t sure how to touch Ben. It brought out goose bumps on Ben’s skin and he suppressed a shiver. Tripp began to massage both of his shoulders and his upper arms more confidently, and Ben let his head drop forward, enjoying the massage as much as Tripp’s touch.

  When Tripp’s lips touched the nape of his neck, Ben wanted to moan again.

  “Tripp,” he protested weakly.

  “Can’t help it,” Tripp whispered, his lips resting on Ben’s skin. “Don’t say no again.”

  “Why? Because you want to see if you really like it?” Ben asked, trying not to sound bitter. “It’s more than that for me, Tripp. Just because I’m gay doesn’t mean that I have casual sex.”

  Nothing about Tripp was casual, and that’s what scared Ben.

  “I didn’t think that.” Tripp rested his forehead on Ben’s shoulder. “I can’t stop thinking about you,” he confessed in an anguished whisper. “I try, but you’re always there in the back of my mind. The way you smell, the way you move, those skinny little ties you wear, that face you make when you think no one’s looking and you’re so over whatever stupid shit is happening. I imagine what your skin feels like, how it will taste.”

  He raised his head, and Ben turned slightly and watched as Tripp touched just the tip of his tongue to Ben’s shoulder and glided it along the tendon that ran up to his neck. Ben drew a shuddering breath, the feel and sight of Tripp tasting him nearly overwhelming his common sense.

  “I can’t,” Ben said in a strangled voice. It was so hard to deny him when he said something like that. How was any guy supposed to resist that?

  “Why?” Tripp asked, desperation filling that one word. “Don’t you want me, Ben?”

  “Yes,” he confessed. “But wanting you doesn’t mean I have to give in to it. I’m not going to let myself do something so stupid as fall for a straight guy.”

  God, he wanted Tripp so much he might go crazy from it. He was crazy for even thinking it.

  “The way I’m wanting you, I’m most definitely not straight,” Tripp said with a choked laugh. “There’s no thinking straight with you sitting there in those little shorts, looking so damn hot I just want to crawl on top of you and eat you right up.”

  “Really?” Ben asked. He turned and faced Tripp. Tripp looked so good, so handsome and earnest and so fucking hot that Ben had to steel his spine and confront reality. “And how would you do that, Tripp? What do you really see happening between us? Do you have any idea? Are you really prepared to have sex with a man?”

  Ten

  Tripp’s heart was beating so fast he was breathless. Did Ben’s question mean he was thinking about saying yes? He’d admitted he wanted Tripp as bad as Tripp wanted him, which was more than Tripp had hoped for.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I know what it means. And I want it. I want you.”

  “You keep saying that.” Ben sounded frustrated. “But what do you want? What do you want to do to me? What do you want me to do to you? Do you want to suck my—”

  Tripp covered his mouth with his hand. “Don’t,” he said, his heart heavy. “Don’t turn it into that.”

  Ben pulled his hand away. “You can’t even hear me say the word?” he asked. “How are you going to do this, Tripp?”

  “What, dick?” Tripp said, blowing out an exasperated breath. “Sure, I can hear you say it, and I can say it. I meant don’t turn this into a triple dog dare, or a grocery list. Why do we have to lay out what we are or aren’t going to do? Dammit, I just wanna kiss you and hold you and feel your skin on mine. Can’t we start there? Can’t we work up to the full monty? I don’t need to fuck tonight, Ben. I just wanna be with you.”

  He could see confusion on Ben’s face. “But, why?” Ben asked. He seemed genuinely bewildered. “I mean, why me?”

  “I don’t know,” Tripp said with a little shrug. “I can’t remember ever wanting someone this much. Or wanting to do those things, like just hold you, you know? Damn, your skin is so soft and hot and tastes so good, and the idea of laying myself out on you and feeling it against mine, head to toe, makes me so lightheaded I think I might pass out from the wanting.”

  Ben had a glazed, sort of shell-shocked look on his face as he listened to Tripp. “You…what?”

  “I’m saying I’m not chasing you just for dick,” Tripp said. “I can get dick anywhere, I reckon. I want you. I want Ben. You do this to me.”

  “I call bullshit,” Ben said flatly. “I’ve never done that to anyone. Look at me.”

  He paused until Tripp obliged him and looked. It made Tripp break out in a sweat, Ben looked so good.

  “I’m ordinary, Tripp,” Ben said, as if he was speaking to an idiot. “If you passed me on a busy street, you wouldn’t even see me. Witnesses couldn’t describe one distinguishing characteristic about me. I’m not unattractive, but I’m not great-looking either. I straddle the line in the middle of average.

  Tripp couldn’t help it—he started laughing. “Ordinary? Are you kidding?” he asked.

  “But you…” He ran his gaze up and down Tripp and blew out a breath, blinking. “You are fucking hot,” he said. “There, I admit it. You are gorgeous. The kind of good-looking that makes people stop and do a double take. You could have anyone, man or woman, someone who equals you in looks. And let’s not even get into the charisma and genuine overall great guy thing you’ve got going on.”

  Tripp held up his hand, and it was shaking. “That’s how bad I want to touch you.” He looked Ben straight in the eyes. “From the first time I met you, before I knew that I’d have these feelings for you, I thought how good-looking you were. I love how square your jaw is. You’ve got these sort of troublemaking eyes, always laughing, and then wham, that jaw hits you, you know? Unexpected. And did you know that when the sun hits your hair, it looks like copper? I had to look twice at Connor’s that day. One minute it was brown and the next it was shining like a new penny.”

  “No,” Ben whispered. “I didn’t know that.”

  “Just let me love on you a little, Ben,” Tripp begged in a whisper. “Let me kiss you and feel you against me.”

  “Okay,” Ben said, shaking his head.

  “Which one is it?” Tripp asked, not willing to mess it up when he was so close. “Yes or no?”

  Ben reached out, slowly closed his fist in the front of Tripp’s T-shirt, and pulled him closer, until their mouths were just an inch apart. “Yes.”

  Then he closed that last tiny distance between them and pressed his lips to Tripp’s, and there was no mistaking the sincerity of his answer.

  Tripp tried not to let his nerves ruin this kiss like they had the last. He held back, softly rubbing his lips against Ben’s, savoring everything about the contact, just in case this was the only way Ben would let Tripp touch him tonight. Ben’s lips softened under his, and they were smooth and slick. Kissing him was just like kissing a woman, only better, because it was Ben. Underneath every touch and taste was the knowledge that Ben was a guy, which excited Tripp more than he’d ever thought it would.

  Ben caught Tripp’s upper lip between his and sucked on it, a barely-there pressure that shot straight down to Tripp’s toes and back up to lodge in his dick. It was the hottest lightning bolt of lust he’d ever felt, and without thinking too hard about it he gripped Ben’s shoulders and pulled him closer, opening his mouth and teasing Ben’s lips with the tip of his tongue. He could feel the beard scruff around Ben’s mouth scratching his lips and chin. Tripp moaned, and Ben laughed softly into his mouth.

  That pushed him over, the taste of that laugh, and he wrapped his arms around Ben, one hand in Ben’s hair. Tripp pressed Ben’s mouth open and slipped his tongue inside. In that moment his world rocked, and he knew he’d made the right decision to pursue Ben, knew that he’d been right about everything. Because Ben tasted like everything Tripp had ever wanted, even if he hadn’t know it until right then.

  When Ben moaned into his mouth, Tripp wanted to holler in victory.
He kicked off his shoes and maneuvered so he was kneeling on the couch still holding Ben, who was sitting. Then he pushed Ben down onto his back. He may have been a little rough, but he blamed it on desperation.

  Ben had his arms wrapped around Tripp tight and his kiss was just as hard as Tripp’s. The blunt ends of his fingers were pressed into Tripp’s back, and Tripp hoped he’d have bruises tomorrow. He ran the flat of his tongue over the flat of Ben’s, a wet tasting that had them both panting, and then he lay down on top of him, their hips aligning perfectly as Ben opened his legs to make room for Tripp.

  It was heaven, and it was Tripp’s turn to moan as their hard dicks pressed against each other. He’d never felt that before, and it was the hottest damn thing he’d ever done. His hips jerked before he could stop them and Ben’s hand drove into his hair, fisting a handful until it stung as Ben ground his dick against Tripp’s.

  As they humped each other, Ben’s hand slid down Tripp’s back until he was cupping his ass, guiding his movements. Tripp had to break off the kiss just to suck in a lungful of air. He bit that square jaw of Ben’s, then licked his way down his neck to his shoulder and bit him harder as Ben squeezed his ass. The freedom to be rough like that with Ben went to his head, and he felt drunk on him.

  “Shirt off,” Ben rasped. “Skin on skin.”

  “Shit yeah,” Tripp panted. He rose up on his knees and ripped his shirt off over his head, tossing it aside. He looked down at Ben lying there on the sofa beneath him. Ben was panting, his skin gleaming with sweat. His mouth was tight, but his eyes were a little glazed as he stared at Tripp’s bare chest.

  Ben ran his hand up Tripp’s tattooed arm, then he wrapped his hand around Tripp’s neck and dragged him down for another hot, wet, openmouthed kiss that had Tripp whimpering. He’d never whimpered during sex before, but damn if Ben wasn’t the sexiest thing he’d ever touched.