Love Most Inconvenient 3

by D. J. Manly

  “He’s an asshole,” Brody said without thinking.

  Vic laughed. “Really?”

  Brody glanced at him and nodded.

  “Mine too.”

  “I didn’t know you had one. Thought a soccer player like you played the field?”

  “Ha, ha, funny guy.”

  Brody laughed.

  “I used to a lot but then I thought I was in love with another player, an archrival at that.”

  “Ah, that didn’t work out.”

  “He was ah … too much like me.”

  Brody met his gaze.

  “Too much of a player.” Vic laughed. “See, I can make jokes too.”

  “Yes, ha, ha.”

  They both laughed some more.

  Vic sobered, looked off in the distance. “He hasn’t even called since the accident.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged.

  “That night, you were…” Brody trailed off. It wasn’t really his business.

  Vic looked at him. “I caught him with another guy. I was upset. I drank too much, and…” He shrugged. His eyes were sad.

  Brody reached out and squeezed Vic’s forearm. “He didn’t deserve you.”

  He nodded. “He wasn’t worth this, that’s for sure,” he said, waving his hands over his legs.

  “Speaking of that”—Brody stood up—“you, young man, have a date with me on the walking ramp.”

  “I can’t walk, Brody,” Vic said as he looked up at him, his expression vulnerable.

  “You will, my friend,” Brody replied, grabbing the back of his chair. “You will.”

  Chapter Two

  “Okay,” Brody said, pulling Vic up out of the chair, “place both hands on the guard rails. I’m right behind you.”

  His legs were wobbly but Vic had great upper body strength, so it wasn’t too much of a challenge to hold him up. Brody stood right behind him. “Now slide your left leg forward,” he urged. “I don’t want you relying too much on your arms, Vic; relax them a little.”

  “If I do that, I’ll fall.”

  “I’ll catch you if you fall,” Brody told him, his hands settling on the other man’s hips. “Do you feel me?”

  “Yes,” he breathed. “I feel you.”

  “Good. Okay, slide the right foot, just a little bit, that’s it.” Brody reached down and applied some pressure on Vic’s calf. Vic’s arms were straining. “Hold it right there, I’m coming.” Brody ran around and met him in the front.

  “I’ve heard that often enough,” Vic grunted. “I’m coming.” He managed to grin through the effort.

  “I bet,” Brody said with a laugh. “Okay, right foot now, come on.”

  Vic grunted but moved it a little. “Damn, it hurts.”

  “Supposed to. Go. The left, come on.” He motioned to Vic, taking a step back.

  “If I get to the end, what do I get?”

  Brody laughed. “A slap on the back.”

  The muscles in Vic’s arms were trembling from the effort. Sweat saturated his T-shirt, his forehead. He stopped. “I want a kiss.”

  “What?”

  “A kiss. If I get to the end today, I want a kiss.”

  He was never going to make it to the end today, so there was no harm in promising him that. Brody’d kiss him on the forehead. “Fine. If you get to the end today, you get a…”

  The other foot moved forward a few inches farther than before.

  Brody paused, lifting an eyebrow. “That was good. Can you do it with the…”

  The other foot pushed forward as well, causing Brody to take a step back again. Damn.

  Vic smiled at him, his chest heaving. He wobbled a little, then straightened. Another step; this time the foot actually lifted off the surface.

  Brody clapped his hands. “Yeah! You go, boy!”

  The other foot lifted but didn’t move forward too far. Vic’s chest heaved. He grunted and let out a yell, pushing again.

  Vic was halfway to the end. He was straining; the effort was too much.

  “That’s enough,” Brody told him.

  “One more,” Vic growled and pushed forward with both feet. He spring boarded forward right into Brody’s arms.

  Brody laughed and straightened him up. Vic felt like a wet rag doll.

  Vic was laughing and looking up at him. “Nice place to land.”

  As Vic’s body sagged against his, Brody pushed the damp hair off the other man’s forehead. He couldn’t help feeling a certain amount of tenderness for his client at this moment. “Come on.” He hauled Vic upward. “Put your hands back on the rails. I’ll get the chair. We’ll call it a day.”

  Vic held on but it was an effort. By the time Brody brought the chair around, his legs were trembling. Brody reached over and grabbed hold of him just in time, pulling him toward his chair and sitting him down in it.

  “I did okay?” he asked, smiling up at Brody.

  “Yeah, you did really well. You’re a trouper.”

  “I didn’t get my kiss, though.”

  “You must be thirsty,” Brody replied. Ignoring his comment was the only way he could think of to handle it. “Let’s get something to drink.”

  “Hey, can you make nachos?”

  “Nachos?” Brody was glad Vic had let the subject drop. “Sure. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to do that. Why?”

  “Housekeeper goes home at seven. I want nachos tonight. We can sit on the sofa, and you can give me that massage you promised.”

  Brody cleared his throat as he wheeled Vic into the living room. “I have to do that on a massage table. I’ll get it out of the trunk later.”

  “Depends on what you’re massaging.” Vic smiled at Brody just as he was intending to leave the room to find Claire.

  Brody paused. He’d have to nip this in the bud now before Vic got the wrong idea. “Vic,” he said, meeting his gaze, “nothing is going to happen between us. I’m your physiotherapist, that’s it. Okay? I just want you to be aware.”

  Vic looked down at his hands for a moment.

  Brody held his breath. It was a delicate situation. He didn’t want this to affect Vic’s progress. If it was going to interfere, he’d have to find him another therapist. And he didn’t want to have to do that.

  Suddenly, Vic looked up at him, a smile on his face. “Okay, Brody, if you say so.”

  “So, you’re going to cut it out, right?”

  “Cut what out exactly?”

  “The flirting, the innuendos.”

  “No. This is the way I see it, big guy. I’m the vulnerable one here. You could take advantage of me at any time, and I couldn’t fight you off, even if I wanted to. You’re in no danger of that from me, not in the state I’m in. Now, if this was before the accident”—he paused and pointed at Brody—“I’m telling you, you wouldn’t have stood a chance. Earlier, I would have had those swim trunks around your ankles within … ah … let’s say … ten seconds. But … since you’re not the one in the chair, I figure flirting and innuendos shouldn’t be a bother. So, that’s my response.” Vic folded his arms across his chest and beamed at him.

  “And all that just to say that you intend on continuing to flirt with me?”

  “Exactly. Just so I’m sure you understand.”

  Brody shook his head. “Okay.”

  “We could rent some gay porn, just so I could refresh my memory,” Vic called after him as he left the room.

  “Oh, I’m sure you remember fine,” Brody muttered as he entered the kitchen. “Hi, Claire.”

  “Oh hello, Brody. Can I get you something?”

  “Lemonade would be nice, thanks, if you have it.”

  “How is Mr. Barilla doing?” Claire asked, going to the fridge and taking out a large pitcher.

  “Just fine actually, better than fine.”

  “Is he giving you any trouble?”

  Oh yeah, but nothing I can discuss with you. “No, he’s fine.”

  “Good.” She handed him two glasses.
“I put two plates of chicken salad in the fridge for later. You can eat when you want. I’m going back to the house now. If there is anything, call me. The number is on the fridge.”

  “That’s fine.”

  Brody came back to the living room with the two glasses. He handed Vic one. Vic was watching a comedy show on television.

  “What? No soccer?”

  “Can’t watch soccer all the time. Thanks for the drink.” He took a sip. “My legs are really killing me.”

  “I’ll take care of that. I’ll go out and get the table.”

  “Is Claire gone?”

  “She said she was going, left supper in the fridge.”

  “She finishes at five. She and her husband need some time alone.”

  “That’s considerate of you.”

  “I know, and you thought I was just another arrogant jock.”

  “Something like that.” Brody laughed and went outside to get the folding table.

  After setting it up, Brody helped Vic lie down on the table. “Don’t I have to take off my shorts?” Vic asked.

  “I’m massaging your legs, not your dick.”

  Vic’s mouth opened in surprise then he burst out laughing, leaning back on his elbows.

  Brody lifted an eyebrow. “What?”

  “You. You’re full of surprises.”

  “Better than being full of something else. Now, lie down and stop talking. Close your eyes and relax.”

  “Okay, boss. Work your magic.”

  The only problem with legs is that the top of them were dangerously close to something else, which Brody was having a hard time not thinking about.

  Vic’s thighs were still well muscled and the more he massaged them, the more his gaze centered on the distinctive bulge between his legs.

  The massage deepened into the muscles of Vic’s calves and shins and he moaned, probably from a combination of pleasure and discomfort. And that bulge between his thighs became more conspicuous.

  It was normal to get hard during a massage; it was not normal for the masseur to get turned on by it. But Brody was, really turned on, and he found himself concentrating a little too long on his upper thigh, separating his legs and massaging inside the thigh, his hand at one time brushing the tip of Vic’s erection.

  Vic’s breathing deepened. Each time Brody’s knuckles brushed his cock, his hips moved off the table slightly. Oh God, I want to taste it. I want to pull down these shorts and run my tongue up his shaft.

  Brody withdrew his hands, stepped back, and took a breath. “Roll over,” he said abruptly. “I’ll do the back of your legs.”

  “Brody,” Vic groaned. “Please.”

  Brody sucked in some breath. He reached for his shoulder, moved him onto his stomach. “You’ll be all right.”

  “That’s not what I mean, Jesus Christ.”

  “Place your face in the opening.”

  “It’s in the goddamned opening.”

  Brody swallowed as he looked at the swell of Vic’s ass in those nylon shorts. I could just take a bite out of one of those hard globes of his. God, I want to fuck that ass.

  Vic was lifting his hips up off the table, his hands struggling to push down his shorts.

  “What are you doing?” Brody demanded.

  “Brody, Christ, have mercy. Either stop fucking massaging me, or fuck me. I’m so damn horny.”

  Vic’s shorts were down below his ass. Brody stood there mesmerized by the sight of it. God, a perfect ass. And his for the taking. He almost placed his hands on it, just to feel it, to massage the rock-hard globes, so round, so inviting, but instead, he tugged the shorts back up. “Massage is over.”

  Vic pounded his fist on the side of the table. “Damn you, Brody.” He struggled to turn around onto his back then met his gaze. “Look at me. Look at my cock. You’re just going to leave me like this?”

  Brody averted his eyes. “It’s perfectly normal for men to get hard during a massage.”

  “It wasn’t the massage. It’s you,” he snapped. “It’s the way you were touching me.”

  “I’m sorry if you think I did something wrong.”

  “Don’t give me that bullshit, Brody. You want me as much as I want you. So why can’t—”

  “Because you’re my patient. Because it’s unethical. Because…”

  “Because?”

  Because damn it, I’ve been hurt once, and after this is over, you won’t need me anymore, just like Frederick. All he needs is his football, and his showcase women. God damn, a guy like you could break my heart.

  “Because what?” Vic insisted when Brody didn’t answer fast enough.

  “Because I have a boyfriend.”

  “Yeah, you told me, a boyfriend who’s an asshole!”

  “Yes.” He nodded with a sigh. “He’s an asshole. Come on, I’ll help you off the table.”

  “I’d like to take a shower. As you can see”—Vic glanced down at his shorts—“thanks to you, I need one.”

  “Okay.”

  “I also need your help to get into the shower.”

  Brody nodded again. Great. This is the last thing I need right now, this guy naked in a shower.

  “There’s a chair in there, but if you want to get in with me—”

  “I’ll put you in the chair.”

  “Now you look irritated.”

  Brody pulled him off the table and sat him in his chair. “I’m not irritated.” He pushed the chair in the direction of the bathroom. “Can you get undressed by yourself?”

  “I only have to take off my shorts.”

  “Get them off then,” he told him as he parked the chair in the bathroom. “I’ll start the shower.” Brody pulled back the curtain and turned the water on. He checked the water temperature, taking longer than necessary to adjust it. He knew when he turned around that Vic would be naked.

  This time Vic wasn’t hiding. He sat in his chair, his legs spread, and his cock still hard. And Brody had never seen a more seductive man. He swallowed.

  “You like what you see?” Vic asked, framing his cock with his hands.

  “Yes,” Brody whispered. He couldn’t lie. “Happy?”

  “I could think of ways to be happier. Are you good at sucking cock?”

  Brody cleared his throat. “Yes, I’m good at it.” He held Vic’s gaze.

  “Show me how good.”

  “Vic … I…”

  “Show me,” he hissed. “For Christ’s sakes, stop being a physiotherapist for a few minutes and—”

  Brody dropped to his knees in front of him. He licked his lips, reached out, and touched the head of Vic’s cock with his finger. God, give me strength. But he had none.

  Vic grabbed Brody’s hair. “Please,” he pleaded. “Put it in your mouth. Please, baby. Make love to my cock with your mouth.”

  Brody closed his eyes. He leaned forward and placed his lips over the tip of Vittorio’s perfect cock and sucked it into his mouth.

  Vic pulled his hair, muttering something that sounded Latin but was probably Italian.

  Brody moved closer, held the base of Vic’s cock with one hand and took the shaft deeper into his mouth, opening his jaws until he felt the velvet tip hit the back of his throat. His hands smoothed up Vic’s inner thighs as he pulled him downward in the chair, sucking hard now, using his tongue as his lips slipped up and down the solid, creamy rod. Paradise. He tasted like paradise.

  Vic thrashed in his seat, his head going back, crying out as his cock shot into Brody’s mouth suddenly. Brody pulled away, going back on his haunches, wiping the cum off his lips. He watched Vic for a moment, letting his gaze drink in the man’s sculptured chest, his rock-hard nipples, the definition in his biceps, his thighs. He was a beautiful man with a face of an angel. Brody wanted to run his hands up over that chest and touch those nipples, lose himself in kissing those full lips of his.

  “God, that was good,” Vic managed, his breathing rough. “Oh God, thank you, Brody, thank you.”

  Brody stood,
deciding that he’d better not indulge himself. He’d gone far enough, too far actually if he was honest with himself. “Don’t mention it. Let’s get you into the shower.”

  “I haven’t done anything for you. Take me to bed. Fuck me.”

  The look in his eyes quickened Brody’s pulse but he had to put a stop to this. “Stop it, Vic.” Brody reached down and pulled him up to his feet. Holding Vic in his arms naked like that was almost too much. His cock ached with need. Damn it.

  “Don’t you want to?”

  Brody lifted one of Vic’s legs up over the tub then the other. Sucking a man’s cock was one thing, but fucking him was quite another. “No.” He sat him down in the plastic shower chair. “Take your shower. Call me when you’re done.”

  “Brody!” Vic protested.

  Brody took the opportunity to seek sanctuary in his room, where he could breathe normally. He sank down on the bed and placed his face in his hands. Filled with remorse suddenly, he chastised himself for his weakness. Okay, it wasn’t too late. He just had to be firm. And in two days, he’d leave for the weekend and put some distance between them. They’d both forget all about it soon enough.

  Fifteen minutes later, Brody returned to the bathroom and Vic was sitting in his wheelchair, a towel over his lap. His hair was damp but brushed back neatly, and there were a few water droplets on his chest. He grinned up at him. “If I’d waited for you, I would have shriveled up like a prune.”

  Brody laughed faintly. “Sorry. Look, Vic, about before—”

  “It was nice. You have some talent.” He met his gaze.

  “Yeah, well … I’m not here for that.”

  “I hear you. So, guess I’ll have to exercise my hand.”

  “Good idea.” Brody steered Vic out of the bathroom and into his room.

  “You too?” He glanced up at him.

  “I’ll be fine.” Brody cleared his throat. “Can I help you get dressed?”

  “No. It would be better if you preferred I didn’t get dressed,” he said with a sigh, “but I’ll be good. Do you want to watch a movie with me tonight?”

  “Ah, I think I’ll go to bed early. I’m kind of tired.”

  Vic nodded. “Okay.”

  Brody knew Vic was disappointed but he couldn’t encourage this. He didn’t want the incipient sexual tension between them to interfere with what he’d come here to do.