by Jet Mykles
“Pity.”
Lance heard his friend but was too busy following as Gordon walked backward a few steps, removing his coat as he went. Underneath, he wore a green dress shirt that brought out the same color in his flashing eyes. He ripped off the coat and tossed it over a chair, then spun around to rush up the stairs.
Fuck yeah! Lance sped up to chase him but kept pace so he didn’t catch. Not yet.
With bold assurance, Gordon conquered the stairs and strode down the hall. He stopped between Lance’s and Noble’s doors. Lance had his mouth open to tell him which was his, but Gordon glanced over his shoulder and pointed at the correct door. “Yours?”
Lance nodded and honest-to-God trembled as Gordon practically burst through his door. Eagerly, he followed but wasn’t three steps inside before Gordon grabbed his arm to haul him close. He went willingly, mouth open to receive the demand of a kiss that slammed into him. Wet. The kiss was wet as both he and Gordon tried to bite each other’s bottom lips. Their tongues tangled, and teeth knocked with teeth. Lance threaded his fingers in the thick silk of Gordon’s hair to hold him still, then slid his other hand down and over the smooth wool of Gordon’s slacks to grip one side of his firm butt.
“I want you naked,” Gordon growled, hardly separating their lips. “I want your cock. Now.”
Keeping his hold, Lance stepped toward the bedroom door, forcing Gordon back. “Yes.”
Fumbling backward, legs twined with Lance’s, Gordon slid his hands up under Lance’s shirt, bringing the fabric with them. Lance was forced to let go of him so Gordon could push the T-shirt up his arms until, with a muttered curse, Lance paused to rip the shirt off. Gordon took the opportunity to escape farther into the bedroom. Lance followed and bumped into his back as he was freeing his cuff links.
“Didn’t go well with Shelby?” Lance rasped right before he licked at the skin behind Gordon’s right ear.
“No.” Gordon arched his neck to the side to give Lance better access. “We’re not going to talk about him.”
“Okay.” He nibbled at the side of Gordon’s throat while the man started on his buttons. To be helpful, Lance yanked the bottom of the shirt from Gordon’s pants and reached around to find his belt buckle.
“God.” Shirt open, Gordon sank into Lance. One hand reached up and back to find Lance’s hair, digging in and yanking a little. “I need you to fuck me. I need you to fuck me hard.”
Grunting, Lance shoved his hips at Gordon’s ass so the erection in his jeans could be felt. The damn thing could probably jab through their clothing. “Absolutely.”
Gordon’s belt loose, Lance hooked his fingers into as many waistbands as he could find to roughly guide all fabric to the floor. When the belt buckle jangled on the carpet, Gordon stepped forward to get room to pull off his shirt. The sleeveless white undershirt beneath looked sexy as sin above Gordon’s bare, delectable ass. So good that Lance gave thought to asking him to keep it on, but then Gordon ripped that off too, and the expanse of bare, sculpted back served to chase any thoughts of clothing away.
Gordon glanced up as he sat on the edge of the bed. “You’re not naked.”
Growling, Lance attacked his jeans while Gordon removed low, classy boots and socks. By the time Gordon tossed the second sock aside, Lance stood before him, all clothing gone, cock jutting and begging for Gordon’s touch.
Gordon obliged, wrapping a warm hand around Lance’s cock and pulling to guide it to his mouth. “Oh yeah.” He licked the tip. “I want this.”
Lance groaned as Gordon took him in. He grabbed a handful of hair and watched dusky pink lips sink down his shaft. He could watch that forever.
With his lips surrounding the head of Lance’s cock, Gordon rolled his eyes up to meet Lance’s. Then he let go with a wet pop. “Condoms?”
“Yeah.”
Eyes narrowed and a wicked grin curling one side of his mouth, Gordon crawled backward toward the middle of the bed. “Get them.”
Lance was caught watching him. How could he not watch? Every move Gordon made, even the way he pointed the toes of the leg that he draped to the side—it was all so fucking hot. Eyes blazing fire under lowered lids, Gordon reached down to cup his balls, massaging them, lifting them to give Lance a small glimpse of the heaven below.
“Condoms. Lube. Now.”
“Yeah.” Lance opened the nightstand drawer and tossed supplies onto the mattress.
While he did so, Gordon switched position, rolling onto his hands and knees. He sidled around until he could tilt his naked ass toward Lance. “Do me, baby.”
For the first time ever, Lance had an honest urge to lick someone’s asshole. He’d done it before, but only as part of the entire experience, and not for every lover. In fact, only for two, and both had been women. But right now, confronted with two perfectly rounded halves of an ass parted just enough to glimpse a pink, puckered hole… Yeah. Instead of grabbing the lube, he crawled onto the mattress and smacked both palms on firm butt cheeks, rubbing, squeezing, opening. Between those cheeks, Gordon’s anus taunted him in a manner wholly new to him. Gordon’s hedonistic groan goaded him. Lance leaned in, stuck his tongue out, let saliva gather on the tip, and dragged it up and then down the open crevice before him.
“Ah! Shit!” Gordon’s shoulders sank to the mattress, fingers bunching up the thick bedspread.
Encouraged, Lance kept doing it, up and down, up and down, keeping his tongue wet so soon everything was slippery. Gordon’s thick musk filled his head, more of a turn-on than Lance’s rational mind believed it should be. Then he focused, pointing his tongue to trace the pulsing opening. He only meant to trace, to tease, but when Gordon kept groaning, obviously in heaven, Lance had to go a step further. He pushed in. Sharp, biting, sour, but oh, so worth it as the ass in his hands flexed and Gordon cried out and begged for more. Lance gave him more, probing with his tongue. He released one butt cheek so he could wrap his hand around the cock that dangled below. Gordon went nuts, shoving back at him, nonsensical obscenities pouring from his mouth.
Lance had to decide. He knew Gordon was close. He so wanted to be inside when the other man blew. So he drew away and grabbed a condom.
Gordon’s hand replaced his on the dangling cock, stroking furiously. “Hurry. ’M close.”
Lance hurried, rolling the condom on with reckless speed. He squirted some lube onto his palm, stroked it on his cock, and positioned himself behind Gordon’s rocking hips.
“Fuck!” Gordon gripped the bedspread with both hands as Lance started to push in. Lance could see his profile, features all screwed up in a rictus of pleasure. “Oh fuck, yeah, all, more, shit!”
Now inside, Lance grabbed Gordon’s hips to pull. He didn’t really need to. Gordon was pushing back on his own, rocking and gyrating in a most distracting way. His greedy hole sucked Lance in, and Lance was helpless—and unwilling—to stop it.
“Ah fuck!” Now it was his turn to curse as Gordon milked him. He held on to Gordon’s hips for dear life and was forced to thrust as Gordon shoved back at him.
They cursed and swore, sweaty skin slapping sweaty skin. Lance fell forward at one point, Gordon collapsing beneath him, and he felt like he was jackhammering his lover into the floor beneath the mattress. So hard. He couldn’t hold back and could only hope that Gordon was as lost in it as he was. Lance came first, but a few strokes on Gordon’s cock had him crying his own release.
“Oh yeah.” Gordon stretched beneath him, muffled by the spread. “That’s what I needed.”
Lance kissed the back of his shoulder. “Happy to oblige.”
They both hissed as Lance pulled free, and Gordon sighed a happy sigh while Lance rolled away.
* * * *
They lay in bed, but they weren’t asleep. Lance was on his back, eyes closed, one arm folded up and under his head, the other hand on his chest. Beside him, Gordon lay on his side, his breath wafting over Lance’s shoulder. Outside, the snow blanket on the estate had created a hush that made thoughts
loud. Lance could almost track the gears turning in Gordon’s head. Gordon hadn’t left yet, but would he? Or would he stay the night? Confused, Lance couldn’t decide which option he was for.
“What does he want?”
The question seemed nonsensical, given Lance’s current train of thought. “Hmm?”
“Shelby. What the hell does he want?”
Lance was a little put out at being asked about his boss right after sex, but he was too mellow to protest. Especially since anger at Shelby had brought Gordon to him tonight. “Good question.”
“Know the answer?”
“No.”
Gordon snorted. Unexpectedly, he bit into Lance’s shoulder.
“Hey!”
Gordon laughed. “You’re so fucking helpful.”
Lance chuckled, liking the laugh. The anger had been passionate and exciting, but he’d rather have the calm, confident man of humor around more often. “It’s not my fault. I’ve known the guy for years, and I’ve never figured him out.”
Gordon was up on his elbow now. The low lamplight illuminated his face as he stared down at Lance. His perfectly coiffed hair had been mussed, and his lips were still slightly kiss swollen. And he didn’t seem to care a bit. “You must have some idea.”
Lance adjusted the arm behind his head so he sat up just a little on the pillows. “You’ve known him longer.”
Gordon snorted. “I never really knew him well. We hung out with the same people at school. We were both into music. I only got back in touch with him on a whim because I’d heard of The Might and thought he might have some connections.” He watched his hand as he smoothed it up Lance’s bicep. “I never thought he’d ask me to work with him.”
Entranced by Gordon’s soft touch, Lance kept talking. “Was he the same back in school?”
Gordon shrugged, still smoothing over Lance’s skin. “He’s always been a total shit if he doesn’t get his way, but damn if he doesn’t know music. He can be generous to a fault if you’re on his train. But what do you expect from a spoiled rich kid?”
Lance studied what he could see of Gordon’s face. “Aren’t you a spoiled rich kid too?”
Gordon smiled. “Only by marriage. My mom married a rich man, and he carted me off to boarding school to get me out of the way.”
“Oh.” The way Gordon said it, Lance got the feeling it wasn’t a happy subject.
“It wasn’t so bad.” The hand that had been trailing over his arm smoothed up onto Lance’s chest. “I survived. I still talk to some of the guys from school. Not sure I’d call them friends, exactly, but those connections have done me a world of good.”
“That’s…something.”
That made Gordon smile again. “Yeah. Something. I took the money Vince—my mom’s husband—gave me for college and roamed around Europe for ten years. Better education, if you ask me.”
“Sounds like you did okay.”
Gordon shrugged.
“Hey, I’ve never been out of the continental US, so I’m impressed.”
Gordon studied his face, surprise evident. “Really? You’ve never been out of the country?”
“Nope. Only been west of the Mississippi twice.”
“Wow.” Gordon sagged a little as he gave it some thought. “Not even Canada?”
“Nope.” Lance was used to this reaction. He got it all the time when people asked him where he’d been in his life. Given his past, people always assumed that he’d traveled all over.
“I’d’ve thought you’d gotten to California, at least.”
“That’s the twice. But never got out of some pretty shitty parts of LA. I’d been slumming clubs up and down the East Coast for years before I got lucky enough to find Shelby.”
“Lucky.”
“Hey, for a kid who rarely knew if he could afford his next meal, twenty-five K a year plus room and board to play music is amazing.”
Gordon nodded. “Yeah. I guess it would be.” Sigh. He dropped down so his head was resting on his arm. Given the number of pillows underneath him, he was still looking down at Lance. “I suppose I just don’t understand what he wants out of the band. It doesn’t seem that he wants it to go anywhere.”
Lance stared at the ceiling and valiantly tried to explain something he didn’t entirely grasp. “He wants it just so. He’s got this idea in his head, and he just wants that. He’s not real interested in the way things really work.”
“He says he wants to be successful.” Gordon was musing, frustrated but no longer angry. “But he blocks everything I do to make it happen. Then today with Daron…” Today Gordon had brought in a new candidate for replacement guitarist since Shelby had fired the previous one. But Shelby, in true Shelby fashion, hadn’t liked him and hadn’t articulated why. Lance knew firsthand how frustrating that was and felt for Gordon. Gordon shook his head. “I really thought he’d be a good fit.”
Lance just nodded. “Shelby’s like that. He’s got this idea of how to make it work. He was like that with the music too. We butted heads plenty on how some of that album should go, but…” He shrugged and laughed a little. “Damned if he wasn’t right most of the time.” Which was why, despite all odds, the album was something of a success. Other musicians could recognize the genius of the music and sought it out.
“Yeah.” Gordon stroked his hand over Lance’s belly, just above where the sheet draped his hips. “That’s the problem. But it’s my job to get the music out there, and he won’t let me do any of the normal things to make that happen.”
“So you do the abnormal things.” Lance chuckled, enjoying the soft stroking of his skin. “Works for him.”
“Yes. But does that work for you? Or Noble?”
Lance had to pause to make sure he was hearing correctly. “Huh?”
“You guys are so good.” The sincerity in Gordon’s tone was evident, punctuated by the clarity of his gaze. “You deserve to be recognized.”
Touched, Lance smiled. “How can you tell? It’s all Shelby’s music.”
Gordon shook his head. “I can tell. Plenty of people can tell. It’s not so much what you play; it’s how you play it. Despite the fact that it’s not yours, you and Noble make it live. Shelby’s not only a genius at his music; he’s also a genius at finding the right musicians to play it.” Gordon tapped his sternum. “You and Noble should be in a band, touring the world, making your own music, not tagging along in Shelby’s shadow.”
Gordon’s shining faith in him as a musician warmed Lance’s heart. But ruthlessly, he squashed the idle dreams that sometimes took hold of him, dreams of exactly what Gordon was saying. He’d dreamed those dreams too much to believe in them anymore. He had it good right now, especially in this exact moment. He wasn’t going to waste time getting bitter about what might have been.
It was time to nip this dangerous conversation in the bud. Without warning, he rolled toward Gordon. He caught the other man off guard, so it was easy to get him on his back. Lance kissed away the mild protest. “Enough about Shelby.”
Gordon frowned. His one arm was trapped beneath his head still, and the other had slid up around Lance’s shoulder. “No. Seriously, I think we should…”
Lance derailed his train of thought by slipping a hand under the sheet to cup his balls. The sensitive strip of skin just beneath was still wet with lube, so Lance’s fingers slid easily over it toward Gordon’s warm little hole. “Don’t think,” he urged, capturing Gordon’s lips with his.
“Lance, come on. You’re not”—the not stuttered a little as Lance pushed his finger inside to the second knuckle—“seriously going to distract me with sex?”
Lance nuzzled the warmth under the curve of Gordon’s jaw. “Why not?”
Gordon shifted, freeing his trapped arm so he could dig those fingers into the back of Lance’s skull. “You’ll find”—he kissed Lance as he spread his legs—“that I’m not so easily distracted.”
“Okay.” Lance crawled between his legs, finger still rubbing inside Gordon�
�s hole. “You talk.” He slipped down to kiss Gordon’s collarbone. “I’ll be down here.”
Gordon groaned, his hand on Lance’s head as Lance kissed his way down to the cock that had been poking at his chest as he traveled. He wrapped his lips around the tip and sank down as he pushed another finger into Gordon’s anus. Fingers tightened in his hair, and “Oh. Fuck. Me” spilled from Gordon’s mouth. Lance sucked and pumped until Gordon’s hips were rocking with him.
The crinkle of plastic against his cheek distracted him. Gordon had a condom in his hand. “Put it on and fuck me,” came the hoarse command.
Lance followed the siren song. He pulled away long enough to open the plastic and roll on the latex. Then he was back in Gordon’s arms. Gordon held up his own thigh and helped Lance to aim his cock, and then they were joined, lip to lip, cock in ass. Lance thrust, braced up on his arms. He tried to keep most of his weight off Gordon, knowing the other man was nearly bent double, but Gordon was having none of it. He hugged Lance as close as possible and refused to relinquish their kiss. Lance groaned, turned on as ever by Gordon’s physical demands. He held off coming as long as he could, but that telltale tingle wouldn’t be denied.
“Close,” he muttered.
“Yes.” Gordon clamped down on him, pushing harder.
“Fuck!”
“Yes!”
He came on a strangled shout, frozen over Gordon while he shot into the condom. Distantly he was aware of Gordon beating off. He was almost to the point where his muscles had unlocked and he could think about helping when Gordon emitted a long groan and shuddered as he came.
Lance collapsed on top of him, heedless of the belly coated with cum, ignoring the condom that wrapped his sensitive cock. For a moment, he just lay there and breathed.
A dry hand smoothed over his back. Lips ghosted over his hairline. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten.” Gordon’s voice was hoarse. “But I’m worn-out. We’ll talk later.”
Lance smiled as he pulled his heavy body off Gordon’s so he could clean up. “Yeah.” He’d just have to figure out a way to distract him next time too. “Later.”