Cocky, Stock & Barrel

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Cocky, Stock & Barrel Page 3

by Lina Langley


  Rosemary was always self-composed. Nothing could throw her off balance, no matter what happened, and Ethan supposed he admired that about her. He worried about her, too. She sipped her coffee then put her cup down in front of her. “What are you doing?”

  “What am I doing?” Ethan said.

  “You’re staring at me,” he said. “It’s weird.”

  “I’m not staring at you.”

  “You are,” she replied, furrowing her perfectly threaded eyebrows. “And people are starting to notice.”

  Ethan wanted to let it off, but he couldn’t help but feel a little angry. “So what? You’re having brunch with your little brother,” he said. “That’s not really tabloid material.”

  She instantly brightened. “I know,” she said, smiling at him. She took off her glasses and put them on the desk next to her coffee. “I was so glad you called. I thought you were going to be mad about the photo, but you seemed excited.”

  Ethan cocked his head. “What photo?”

  Rosemary furrowed her brow again, a line appearing in the middle of her forehead. “You know,” he said. “The photo someone took when Max was kissing you.”

  Ethan licked his teeth as he tried to focus on the stack of cinnamon pancakes before him. They had seemed delicious just a couple of minutes ago, but he was starting lose his appetite. “Someone took a photo of that?”

  She nodded as she fumbled to get her phone out of her purse. “Yes,” she said, unlocking the screen. She didn’t even have to click through to find the article she was looking for. “See that? Out magazine made a big deal about him being the first gay States Attorney. And his boyfriend isn’t white.”

  “I’m not his boyfriend,” Ethan said, his mouth dry.

  “That’s not what Max told the press,” Rosemary replied, a smile on her face.

  Ethan closed his eyes. He didn’t want to scream at his sister, especially not in public, but he felt like he was close to losing it. “I literally just met him yesterday, Rosemary,” he said as quietly as he could. “We’re not dating.”

  “I know,” she said. “But he thinks you are and that’s worth something.”

  Ethan took a deep breath. He sipped on his coffee, which was too hot, but it was better than shouting at her.

  “Look,” she continued when she saw his face. “I get that you’re pissed, but Kelsey was going to endorse him and the opposition research was… it wasn’t easily dismissible, Ethan.”

  “So I’m a political tool,” Ethan said, his eyes narrowing. “Do you guys always get an introductory lunch or…”

  “That’s not fair,” she said. She took a deep breath. “Look, Ethan, I get it. I understand why you’re so upset, but I also thought this would be good for you.”

  “You thought this would be good for me,” Ethan repeated.

  Rosemary reached toward him and grabbed his hand. “You haven’t been yourself,” she whispered. “You know, ever since you came back.”

  Ethan leaned back on the chair, moving away from her soft hand. Her skin on his felt like a prison. “This is myself,” he said. “This is who I am now, Rosemary. You need to get used to it.”

  She nodded. “I get it,” she said, moving away from him. “I understand that you wouldn’t be the same after what happened, but it’s not a crime for me to want to see you happy.”

  “Then it’s not a crime for me to want to see you happy either,” Ethan said. “Why are you still with him?”

  “This isn’t about me, Ethan,” she said.

  He shook his head. “No, you’re right,” he said. “This is about Kelsey. Well, you should tell him he can forget it. I’m never doing that fucker another favor ever again.”

  She shook her head, biting on her lips. Her face had paled. When she looked at him, her eyes were watery. “You don’t get it, do you? He was trying to do something nice for me,” she said. “Like, yes, of course this is about politics. He wants to endorse Matt Walker, but Matt Walker needs to be a viable candidate. When he said he needed to find him a date… It wasn’t Claudio, Ethan. It was me. I thought you would like him and I really wanted you to find someone you could like after all the shit you’ve been through.”

  “So you thought getting me into the whole political game would be how to do it?”

  “If I told you I wanted to set you up with someone, you would have laughed at me,” she replied. “Plus, you like him.”

  “I do not,” Ethan said, looking her up and down. “He’s an asshole.”

  “Yeah,” she said with a wry laugh. “And that’s exactly your type.”

  Ethan scoffed. “Really? Coming from you?”

  “Ethan—”

  “I’m leaving,” he said as he stood up, the chair legs scraping on the concrete floor under him. He didn’t look back as he went out to the street, even as his sister called his name after him.

  ***

  “Do you really think she’s going to like me?” Alois had said, the paper bag wrinkling as he leaned against the wall of the elevator.

  “No,” Ethan said, smiling at him. “But don’t worry. She doesn’t like anyone I date.”

  “And I’m not special?”

  “You’re very special,” Ethan had replied, winking at him. “I usually never take anyone to her place. She’s scary enough, but Kelsey is there and…”

  “Great,” Alois said, a smile on his face. “So right into the lion’s den. Don’t I feel special.”

  “You are,” Ethan said. The elevator dinged as it stopped and Ethan put his hand on the door so it wouldn’t close. He kissed Alois on the mouth, his lips lingering on him. “You’re very special.”

  Alois moved away from him, a smile on his face. “Are you just trying to get me to forget how scared I am?”

  “Is it working?” Ethan said, biting his lower lip.

  “No,” Alois said with a smile, but then he kissed Ethan on the mouth again, his lips soft and warm against Ethan’s own. Ethan had giggled and slung his arm around Alois’ waist, moving Alois closer to his own body.

  They only stopped kissing when they heard Rosemary clear her throat.

  ***

  Ethan didn’t turn his phone on as he walked into his apartment. He opened the cupboard next to the fridge, where he kept the whisky, and poured himself two fingers in a regular juice glass. He drank it all at once as he leaned on the counter in front of him.

  He sighed deeply and looked at the bottle. It had been a while since he had done this, but he couldn’t believe that he had almost slept with that guy. He couldn’t believe he had even considered it. Even now, when he thought about it, he felt his cock harden.

  “Fuck,” he muttered as he rubbed his temple. “I’m such an idiot.”

  His voice sounded foreign in his empty apartment. His throat hurt. His body hurt, everything hurt. Ever since Alois had died, it was like there was no time when things weren’t hurting. When he was about to pour himself another glass of whisky, he heard a knock on the door.

  “Go away, Rosemary,” he said, too quietly for her to hear him. The knocking started again. Ethan grunted as he walked to the door, ready to slam it in her face. “Rosemary—”

  “No,” Max said. Ethan looked at him. It took him a little while to recognize his face, though his brain had processed who Max was in an instant. He looked different in his workout clothes, with the hoodie and the sweatpants. Younger. His cheeks were red and his skin covered in beads of sweat. “Are you busy?”

  Ethan glared at him. “How did you get in here?”

  “I waited until one of your neighbors left,” he said, flashing Ethan a smile. “Took about five minutes. It was great, I needed the break.”

  “You need to call if you’re going to visit.”

  Max nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “The problem is, I don’t have your number.”

  Ethan sighed. He knew when to admit defeat and this felt like one of those situations. He couldn’t just stand here and talk to Max as if everything was normal, because everyth
ing wasn’t normal, and Max was a high-profile person. He was sure that the media was going to give them a lot of shit if they found them like this and Ethan didn’t think his neighbors were particularly discreet people. “Fine,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Come in. I’ll give you my number. Then you’ll go?”

  Max raised his eyebrows and bit his lower lip. He took a second to look up and down at Ethan, who smelled like cinnamon and whisky, and probably looked like shit. He took a step into Ethan’s apartment and kicked his shoes off before speaking. “Are you asking me or telling me?”

  Ethan closed his eyes. “I don’t know.”

  He felt Max’s hand on his shoulder, squeezing it. It didn’t feel territorial, it felt reassuring, but Ethan still didn’t dare look at Max. He only opened his eyes when Max dropped his hand to his side. “Your number.”

  “Right,” Ethan said. He watched Max take his phone out of the armband attached to his bicep and rattled it off. He realized, halfway through, that he could have stopped himself.

  But maybe this was fine.

  Maybe this would be fine.

  After Max had called him, the two of them were left staring at each other, neither one of them saying anything. Ethan stared at him, at his light blue-gray eyes, at the way his cheekbones framed his face. He wasn’t soft, not like Alois, who had big eyes and always looked like he had a secret on the tip of his tongue. Max was severe, manly. Maybe what Alois would have ended up as, if he had lived long enough to harden.

  So maybe it was a good thing that he had died.

  The thought made Ethan feel dizzy, so he walked over to where his whiskey was and poured himself another glass. He would have normally offered any of his guests a drink, but Max… well, he wasn’t a guest. Ethan had no idea what he was. He felt the burn of the whiskey going down his throat. It was making him feel a little nauseous, but maybe that wasn’t so bad. At least it was something other than anger.

  “I googled you after I left last night,” Max said.

  Ethan slammed the glass down on the counter, raising his eyebrows at Max.

  “I should have done it before we went out,” Max said. “But I wanted to go in blind. Everyone is always trying to prep me for everything nowadays, and to be honest, I’m finding it all very boring.”

  “Okay,” Ethan said.

  “I knew your last name,” he said. “I just didn’t know… I didn’t know you were…”

  “The foreign correspondent who watched his fiancé blow up before his very eyes?” Ethan said, raising his eyebrows. A hint of humor he hadn’t expected had crept into his voice, though he had no idea why. He didn’t feel very amused. “Yeah, that’s me alright. Wonder why that wasn’t their opener.”

  “I didn’t know,” Max said, his voice quiet. There was a hint of pity in it. Ethan felt close to punching him in the face, but he dug his fingers onto the faux granite counter instead.

  Ethan scoffed. “Well, you do now.”

  Max approached him. He did so slowly, deliberately. Ethan was almost certain he could have pushed him away, but his body felt like it was locked in place and he couldn’t move. Max was standing behind him, his mouth level to Ethan’s ear. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his breath and his words sending a shiver down Ethan’s spine.

  Then Max was wrapping his arm around Ethan’s waist and bringing him close to him. Ethan could smell Max’s sweat and the alcohol on his own breath. He closed his eyes, feeling dizzy. “I would have never acted the way I did if I’d known.”

  Ethan turned around. He did so slowly, partly because Max was pushing his weight against him and partly because he wanted to enjoy the feeling of Max’s body even through his clothes. When he finally managed to turn, he stared at Max. “I’m kind of glad you didn’t know, then.”

  “You liked it,” Max replied, a smile on his face. It wasn’t a question, it was a statement, and Ethan knew he would have been a fool to say otherwise.

  He swallowed as he focused on the ridges of Max’s lips, at the dark stubble that covered half his face. “I don’t like games, Max,” Ethan said. “I don’t want to be a political pawn in anything.”

  “It’s not a game,” Max said. “Not if you go in with your eyes wide open.”

  “But I didn’t,” Ethan replied, his voice a growl. Max was tracing the shape of his jawline with a finger, slowly moving down the side of his neck. “I don’t know what the terms are.”

  “You get to fuck me,” Max said quietly. “And you help me win.”

  Ethan swallowed. “And what makes you think I want to do that?”

  “I can feel it,” Max said. Their bodies were so close, it shouldn’t have been a surprise to Ethan that Max could feel how hard he was, but he couldn’t help but be a little ashamed.

  He swallowed. His voice was trembling when he spoke. “This isn’t about you.”

  “I know,” Max replied. “And I don’t care. You can call me by his name, if you want.”

  Ethan closed his eyes. He hadn’t considered that, but now that the option was available to him, maybe that would be easier. Before he could think about it too much, he felt Max move his hand to the back of his head. He was pulling Ethan close to him. Ethan resisted the kiss for a second, ready to pull away, but he gave in when Max pushed his tongue inside his mouth. It wasn’t a gentle kiss, but it was hungry, and it was exactly what Ethan needed to forget.

  Max tasted like sugar, his tongue was cold, and he didn’t let up even when Ethan tried to move away from him. His face was chasing Ethan’s face. Any other time, in any other context, Ethan would have pushed him away, but he didn’t want to then. He wanted Max to chase him. He wanted Max to stick his tongue inside his mouth until it felt like it was reaching into his throat, until it felt like he couldn’t breathe, like he had to gag.

  With his strong arms still wrapped around him, Max maneuvered Ethan’s body so he was no longer leaning against the kitchen counter. He moved away from Ethan then, his eyes wide.

  “Do you really want this?” Max asked.

  “Yes,” Ethan heard himself say. “Yes, I want this.”

  “Good,” Max said. “Get on your knees.”

  “What?”

  “Get on your knees,” Max repeated, his eyes still wide. His voice had dropped to a whisper. “I want to come on that pretty face of yours.”

  Ethan’s eyes widened. His heart was beating fast and he felt a little dizzy, though he wasn’t sure what the exact cause of it was. “Seriously?”

  Max smiled at him, his blue eyes glimmering. “We don’t have to do any of this.”

  The statement was completely matter-of-fact. Max didn’t seem upset or bothered in the slightest. If anything, he was looking at Ethan curiously, almost like he was expecting Ethan to say that he wanted to back out.

  “No,” Ethan said. He got down to his knees, far too quickly, and tilted his head up to stare at Max.

  Max was smiling at him as his hand went down to his pants. He moved it slowly—so slowly, Ethan was certain Max was trying to inflict some sort of psychological torture on him—until he finally reached the waistband of his sweatpants. Ethan couldn’t help but stare at the bulge in the grey pants, the way the outline of his cock looked as it pushed the fabric.

  Ethan reached out to grab the waistband so he could pull them off more quickly. He had no idea how much longer he could wait for. Max’s look told him to stop, so he did, his hand hovering in the air between them.

  Max smirked at him. “Put your hands behind your back,” Max said. “I didn’t say you were allowed to touch me.”

  Ethan swallowed. He could feel his own cock throbbing, even though he hadn’t managed to touch himself.

  “You’re so beautiful,” Max said. Ethan watched, wide-eyed, as he finally revealed his cock to him. Ethan had to stop himself from closing the space between them to put it in his mouth, to suck him off. He could see the veins on it, the way his head looked, the bit of precum covering his piss slit. “Ever since I left, I’ve been thinking abo
ut what you’d look like with my come on your first.”

  Ethan groaned. He didn’t think he had ever been so turned on by simple words, especially as the man in front of himself jacked himself off, deliberately, slowly. He groaned every now and then and Ethan’s gaze darted between his cock and the way his face looked, his eyes closed, his lips slightly parted.

  Max’s eyes opened and he set his gaze on Ethan’s face. “Do you want me to come on your face?”

  “Yes,” Ethan heard himself say, his voice a groan.

  “How much?”

  “I want you on my face so much,” Ethan said, his voice dripping with desire. He was surprised by how much he meant it, by the way his own cock felt like it was throbbing. He was harder than he had ever been, which was something of a surprise, considering he hadn’t even touched himself. “So much.”

  “Beg me,” Max said, licking his lips. “Ask me to come on your face.”

  Ethan closed his eyes. His fingers were interlocked behind him, right under his back, and his nails were digging half-moons into his skin. “Please,” Ethan said. “Please. Please come on my face. I need to feel you on me…”

  “Yes,” Max said, speeding up. The skin on his cock was glistening, the head even more visible than before. “Yes. Keep going.”

  “I want to taste you,” Ethan said, surprised at how sincere he sounded. “I want to lick my lips and taste you on me. I want to… I want to swallow your seed.”

  “Yeah,” Max said, throwing his head back. “Yeah. Fuck, fuck, I’m going to come all over you. Close your mouth, I want to see what your face looks like with my come all over your beautiful skin.”

  Ethan did as he was told, clamping his lips shut so quickly it actually hurt. He held Max’s gaze as Max came all over him, as he got little bits of warm spunk on his lips and over his face. Ethan thought Max looked beautiful like this, as his chest went up and down while he tried to catch his breath.

  He wanted more. Ethan wanted to stand up and come on Max’s face himself, but Max hadn’t told him to do anything, and for some reason, it felt wrong to move without Max’s approval. It felt wrong to do anything without Max telling him he could.

 

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