Cherry Pop (Mercury Rising Book 3)

by Samantha Kane

  “He’s not here and you are,” Tripp said. “Plus, you’re buying.”

  “Who said I was buying?” Carver asked in alarm. “You’re the heir apparent to all that construction money.”

  “You asked me out,” Tripp said. “You’re buying. Gay rules. Ben told me.”

  “Ben’s an asshole,” Carver said. “I left my wallet at home.”

  “My mama said boys would only want me for my money,” Tripp said with an exaggerated sigh. “What did Luke say?”

  “He said I turned you gay so it was my responsibility to turn you back,” Carver said with a little laugh. “Ta da! You’re ungayed.”

  “I think your fairy wand is broken,” Tripp told him. “Look, can I ask you a delicate, personal, embarrassing question?” he asked seriously. He needed answers about the gay thing, and figured Carver had been at it long enough to know something.

  “Ookay,” Carver said. “You can ask. I reserve the right not to answer.”

  “Were you ever turned on by me or Luke?” It had been bugging Tripp ever since Ben had told him there should have been earlier signs he was gay.

  “Nope,” Carver said. “Not all guys turn me on. I have certain tastes, and you’re not it.”

  Tripp thought about that for a minute as Carver sat silently waiting for the next question. “When did you first know?”

  “Since I was old enough to understand what was going on,” Carver said. “I never had crushes on girls. I had them on boys. I passed them off as hero worship, or admiration, the desire to be friends. It took me years to admit to myself what they were and how I felt. And when I finally admitted it, I thought I had to hide it and so I got Amanda pregnant and the rest is history. You?”

  “The other night at the bar when Luke tried to fix you and Ben up,” Tripp said. “I got jealous. I pretended that it was because I didn’t want to lose my new friend, but there was more to it. And then I kissed him and I knew for sure. I never felt like that before. It was like a switch went off and I came alive for the first time.”

  “Jesus,” Carver said. Tripp wasn’t sure if that was admiration or disbelief in his voice. “So I guess me and Luke never turned you on either, huh?”

  “Sorry, no,” Tripp told him. “The point is, Ben said I should have known sooner. What do you think?”

  “I don’t know,” Carver said with a shrug. “I’m not a gay expert. Hell, I bet you’ve been farther with a guy than I have.”

  “You haven’t done it yet?” Tripp was shocked. Carver might not turn him on, but Tripp knew he was good-looking. “Why not?”

  “Haven’t found anybody I want to do it with,” Carver said. “The idea sounds great, but I keep stalling at the gate.”

  “Yeah, I can see that,” Tripp said. “I guess that’s sort of what happened to me. I mean, I never really gave the idea too much thought, with girls or guys. But girls were just there, you know? I didn’t have to do anything. It was easy. But I never sat around and dreamed about it. Then I kissed Ben, and damn if I can think of anything else.”

  “I guess I should have kissed Ben when I had the chance,” Carver said. “Maybe I’d a had my cherry popped.”

  “Then I’d a had to kill you,” Tripp warned. “Ben ain’t popping nobody’s cherry but mine.”

  “Well, that does it,” Carver said, slapping his thigh. “I’m going to have to tell Luke my mission to ungay you failed.”

  “Please do,” Tripp said with relief. “Then we can move on. He’s determined to try to fish the gay out of me this weekend and I’m not sure I can stand that. Ben and I are supposed to go to Myrtle.”

  “You gonna do it?” Carver asked him with a wink. “If you do, you have to tell me about it.”

  “Fuck you,” Tripp said. “You can just keep on dreaming about it, loser.”

  Sixteen

  Ben leaned against the railing at one of the big shopping and entertainment complexes in Myrtle Beach, looking down into the water at the giant carp swarming, begging for the food you could buy for change from little vending machines along the walkways crisscrossing the lagoon. It was a beautiful day, the sun warming his shoulders and reflecting off the water. He slid his sunglasses from the button placket of his polo and put them on.

  “Those are the nastiest fish I’ve ever seen,” Tripp said from beside him. “Beggars. An embarrassment to fish everywhere.”

  “You sound like you’re channeling Luke,” Ben told him, laughing. “They’re a product of their environment. They don’t know how to fend for themselves, and so they fight amongst themselves for scant resources.”

  “Scant?” Tripp said. He pointed at all the people up and down the walkway feeding the fish. “These are the most well-fed fish you’ll ever see.”

  “But they don’t know their own good fortune,” Ben argued. “They’ve never known real scarcity or hardship. Just this endless struggle to compete for food from people they don’t know they should fear.”

  “It sounds like your projecting some pretty heavy shit on these stupid fish,” Tripp observed, turning his back on the water and leaning against the rail, watching Ben.

  “Probably,” Ben agreed. “I have a tendency to do that.” He too turned his back on the fish. “I don’t deal well with emotional issues, so I project them.” He winked at Tripp. “It’s my thing.”

  “As long as you know that you’re the fish in this analogy, I guess no harm, no foul,” said Tripp. “But if we could forget the fish for a minute, care to tell me what you were competing for and who you were supposed to be scared of?”

  “Come on,” Ben said, wandering off. Tripp kept pace next to him. “Affection. Isn’t that what we’re all competing for?”

  “I suppose,” Tripp said. “Although I’d probably say searching for it instead of competing for it.”

  “Ah,” Ben said. He led them over to a kiosk selling cold drinks near some amusement park rides. “That’s because you’ve never had to compete for it. You’re an only child. A gorgeous, sweet guy. Affection has always come easily to you.” Even in the casual cargo shorts and faded T-shirt, Tripp had been drawing admiring looks from men and women alike all day.

  “And not to you?” Tripp asked. He ordered a lemonade and Ben held up two fingers to the girl behind the counter to indicate he wanted one as well.

  “Not really,” Ben said. They took their drinks and started walking again, the crowd ebbing and flowing around them. “My mom and dad divorced when I was still a baby, and my dad was a weekend parent, too busy with his dental practice to bother with me during the week. And my mother isn’t very maternal. Her career was her favorite child.” He sat down on a bench by the mini-golf course where a dragon rose out of a smoking volcano on a regular schedule. “I was talking with Brian earlier this week, and some of the things he said really made me think.”

  “I’m sorry they made you think of sad things,” Tripp said, sitting down next to him. He angled his body a bit so he faced Ben. “What did he say?”

  “He just made me look at my past relationship a little differently,” Ben hedged, not really wanting this to turn into a therapy session. “In a nutshell, he pointed out how one-sided that relationship was and I realized that I’ve been mourning something that never really existed. I’ve been missing what I wished I had, and not what I did have.”

  “Sounds confusing and still sad,” Tripp said. “What did you wish you had?”

  “I wanted the white picket fence, two kids and a dog. The fairy tale. Crazy, huh?” He stared at a family in line for the Viking ship ride, and watched as the younger brother kicked his older sister in the shin.

  “And what did you have?” Tripp asked.

  “Someone who traded me in for a younger model when I grew up too fast,” Ben answered honestly. “He let me go with no regrets or tears or even an explanation.” He looked at Tripp. “I’d been fooling myself all those years that I was more than a boy toy for him. At one point I thought he could move mountains, that he could save the world if he set hi
s mind to it. I ignored the fact that he didn’t want to do those things. I built him up in my fantasies and refused to see that he could never be the things I wanted, and I glossed over all the signs that I wasn’t what he wanted, either.”

  “Sounds like some heavy duty thinking all right,” Tripp said. He swished the lemonade around in his cup. “Why do I get the feeling this is going to circle around to me?”

  “I just don’t want to make the same mistakes, Tripp,” Ben told him. “And I’m not going to lie, eight years is a long time to be with someone. I feel a little guilty sitting here with you right now even though I know, in here—” He pointed to his head. “—that he could care less and that I don’t owe him anything. But in here—” He pointed to his heart. “—I feel like I shouldn’t be ready to move on yet. Brian says I’m scared, which I already know. But that doesn’t make the feelings go away.”

  “I thought today was the start of something for us,” Tripp said, not looking at him as he set his cup down on the ground beside the bench.

  “I don’t know. I guess this is my way of telling you that right now, this is for fun. Right? I need more time to work my way up to the big stuff.” Ben’s palms were sweaty with nerves as he took that little step forward.

  “I’ve got time,” Tripp told him, smiling out at the crowd. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Neither am I,” Ben said. “At least, not for a while.”

  “Let’s go eat some hamburgers,” Tripp said, standing up. “I’m hungry.”

  “Sounds great,” Ben said, relieved. He appreciated Tripp’s lack of melodrama. He’d made enough drama for the both of them.

  By the time they got back to Mercury, it was almost midnight. Tripp pulled into Ben’s driveway and cut the engine. “Can I come in?” he asked, watching Ben carefully.

  Ben had been debating that question with himself for the entire two-hour drive.

  “Yeah, sure,” he said casually. Ultimately he’d decided to invite Tripp in just to see what happened. That was what people who were having fun did, right? Not every second had to be planned out. Spontaneity had its good points too. Not that it was a truly spontaneous decision, but still.

  They didn’t talk as they both got out of the truck. Ben had left the porch light on tonight and he had his key ready when they got to the door. Tripp stood beside him, his hands in his pockets, as Ben unlocked the door.

  “Come on in,” he said inanely. “Thanks for fixing the air conditioning the other day. How did you do that without me here?”

  “It was a simple fix,” Tripp said. “I just rinsed out the unit with the hose. It was clogged with leaves and grass. I don’t think anyone’s done that for years, based on the way it looked.”

  “I didn’t even know you were supposed to do that,” Ben admitted. “I’ve lived in condos and apartments my whole life.”

  “Seriously?” Tripp asked in disbelief. He’d turned to face Ben in the little entryway, where they’d stopped when Ben shut the front door. “I thought your mom was a Realtor.”

  “She is. She wanted to sell houses, not own them,” Ben said with a wry grin. “There was less maintenance and upkeep with condos.”

  “So no yard or anything growing up?” Tripp was frowning, and Ben found the little lines between his eyebrows endearing. Shit, he had it bad for this guy.

  “Some condos in L.A. had yards. But I had parks,” Ben said. “And playgrounds. I was a computer geek anyway, so all I wanted to do was stay inside and play on my computer.”

  That made Tripp smile. “I used to get bored as hell on the computer,” Tripp told him. “I had a few friends who were into those roleplaying games online and stuff. I never had the patience for them. I’d rather be outside playing sports.”

  “We would not have been friends in school,” Ben concluded.

  “I’d a still wanted you,” Tripp said, his voice suddenly low and a little raspy.

  “I don’t think so,” Ben said, his heart beating fast. He wasn’t good at flirting. He’d never really had to do it. Roland had moved in and swept him off his feet, and all he’d required was that Ben be young and stupid. “I was skinny and shy and wore The Legend of Zelda and Star Wars T-shirts.”

  “I like Star Wars,” Tripp said, taking a step closer. “I like you.”

  “I think we’ve already established that,” Ben said nervously, backing up. He wiped his damp palms on his shorts.

  “How did geeky Ben become extreme sports Ben?” Tripp asked, running a finger over Ben’s biceps. Ben’s stomach clenched at the simple touch.

  “I started riding my bike long distances,” Ben said, remembering those first few long rides, when Roland had disappeared to a film shoot or some other mysterious Hollywood event, leaving Ben alone for days on end. “Eventually I met other bikers which led to mountain biking and mud runs.” He shrugged. “I may have been a geek, but I wasn’t non-athletic. I learned to water ski as a kid and my mom made sure I played the typical team sports until I hit high school.”

  “Didn’t you make any friends?” Tripp asked quietly.

  “What?”

  “You said you met other people. But you didn’t say made new friends.”

  Tripp was too perceptive by far. No, he hadn’t made friends. Roland was too jealous of Ben’s time and attention. Whenever Ben had tried to go on a group outing, Roland had pouted for days or come up with some excuse why Ben couldn’t go. Eventually he’d stopped trying. At least until he and Roland broke up. And after that, even though Ben had done quite a few races and mountain trails, he’d kept himself apart from other people because Roland had taught him not to trust anyone.

  He shook off the memories and cleared his throat. “I had fun today,” he said, changing the subject.

  “Me too,” Tripp said, his stare so intent it was like a physical touch.

  “Want a drink?” Ben tried to break the building tension.

  “No,” Tripp said firmly, taking another step closer. Ben backed up again and found his back against the door.

  “Want to watch a movie?” he asked desperately.

  “No,” Tripp said.

  Then he was there in front of Ben, and they were kissing, and Ben forgot to be nervous.

  Tripp felt so good, and Ben moaned as he wrapped his arms around Tripp’s shoulders. Ben could feel the heat from Tripp’s skin through his T-shirt. It felt like the sun had against his back today, both soothing and arousing at the same time. He ran his hand up into Tripp’s sinfully sexy hair and loved the way the soft, silky strands flowed around his fingers.

  Tripp reached down, cupped Ben’s ass, and hitched him higher against the door, and Ben wrapped his legs around Tripp’s waist. It was a huge turn-on. Roland had never been able to do things like this to him. With Roland everything had been calculated and thought out, a question and answer session of “do you like this or that, or maybe this”, until he knew exactly how to push Ben where he wanted him to go. But Tripp was this wild thing in his arms, unpredictable and passionate, and Ben loved it.

  “I don’t know what I’m doing,” Tripp said breathlessly as he kissed his way from Ben’s cheek down to his jaw.

  “This is good,” Ben said. “Shut up. It’s good.” He didn’t want words, didn’t want to have to think about what they were doing. He just wanted to feel Tripp in his arms and enjoy it. Tripp laughed, and pressed together as they were it was almost as if Ben was laughing too.

  “Well, all right then,” Tripp said. “All right.” He moved back to Ben’s mouth, and his kiss was hard and full of a desperate lust that Ben recognized because he felt the same way. Tripp massaged his ass, and when Tripp’s fingers met in the middle, sliding up and down Ben’s crease, it was a thrilling caress that made him tighten his muscles under Tripp’s hands.

  “Tripp,” he said breathlessly in protest.

  “I’m just touching,” Tripp said. He nuzzled behind Ben’s ear. “You feel good.”

  Ben knew he was throwing oil on the flames when he slid
his hand under the collar of Tripp’s T-shirt. “So do you,” he said. “I love your skin.”

  “Let’s do that again,” Tripp said, kissing the corners of his mouth. Then Tripp plunged his tongue inside with a moan and Ben answered, sucking on it, sliding both hands into Tripp’s hair and holding on.

  When they broke for air, Ben gasped, “Do what?”

  “Shirts off,” Tripp said, leaning away from Ben, who immediately missed his heat. “Skin on skin.”

  “Oh, fuck yeah,” Ben whispered. He reached down and slid his hands up Tripp’s back, pushing the T-shirt up. Tripp wrapped one arm around his waist, and between them they awkwardly tugged the shirt off one arm, over Tripp’s head, and then off the other arm, throwing the shirt across the room. Ben leaned over and licked his shoulder, then ran his hand down Tripp’s tattooed arm, admiring the way it looked with his muscles bulging as he held Ben in place.

  “Now you,” Tripp said, sounding frantic and so turned on, and Ben’s dick jumped in his shorts at the sound of his voice. He reached down, letting Tripp hold all his weight, and pulled the shirt up and off.

  Tripp immediately pressed their chests together and used his hands to lower and raise Ben, rubbing them against each other. He moaned. “Damn, I love that,” he said. “Never knew how good that would feel.”

  It was pretty damn good, and Ben closed his eyes and rested the back of his head against the door, just letting the physical sensations roll over him.

  Ben lost track of time as they kissed and rubbed against one another. Everything they did, every touch of hands, bodies, and mouths, set off chain reactions in Ben until he felt like a live wire quivering under Tripp’s desperate, heated caresses. Tripp’s inexperience and delight in what they were doing was obvious and added a whole new layer of eroticism to the encounter.

  When their skin grew slick with sweat and Tripp’s arms began to shake, Ben said, “Put me down.”

  Tripp lowered him slowly and they stood there for a few seconds, breathing heavily, foreheads pressed together.