by Vicki Tharp
Alex’s hips pumped as he ached for that first touch of Elijah’s mouth—the feel of those lips easing over his sensitive head. Elijah’s tongue darted out first for a taste, a bold and brash smile coming to that fuckable mouth. Then Elijah rounded the ridge of Alex’s cock with the tip of his tongue.
Alex sucked in a breath. And held it. And held it.
What the fuck was he doing?
He was straight. Perfectly... straight.
Then why does the sight of your dick sliding into a man’s mouth make you hard enough to cut steel?
Alex grabbed Elijah on either side of his head, his fingers wrapping around the soft, short strands of hair, not knowing whether he’d planned to push him away...
Or hold him there.
That tortuous mouth... that playful tongue.
Damn.
Alex’s head fell back, his breath coming in crisp, harsh pants as Elijah’s talented tongue brought him closer and closer to the brink. He tried to imagine there was a woman going down on him, but no woman had ever given him head the way Elijah was.
Or maybe it had nothing to do with Elijah. Maybe his enhanced arousal had to do with other people watching.
That a camera focused on his crotch.
That the mics picked up the soft, wet sounds of sucking and the low groan escaping the back of his throat making the experience so... fucking... hot.
Elijah worked hard with his hands and his mouth bringing Alex to that knife edge, Alex’s hips thrusting as his dick hit the back of Elijah’s throat.
“Fuuuck.” As much as Alex wanted to hold out, he wasn’t the one in control. His balls tightened, and the base of his spine tingled as the first pulses hit.
“I’m coming,” Alex ground out as he tried to pull Elijah off him. Instead of finishing Alex off with his hand the way Alex had expected, Elijah took him impossibly deep, relaxing the back of his throat, his lips going down to Alex’s root.
“Fuck, fuck.” Alex’s vocabulary had shrunk to one word. “Fuuuck.”
If you could only have one word, that one said enough.
Elijah swallowed it all. Pulling back, the flat of Elijah’s tongue raked along the underside of Alex’s cock until it fell free. With a cum-eating grin and open mouth kisses, Elijah worked his way up Alex’s body. Elijah nipped Alex on the tender flesh between his neck and shoulder then sucked away the sting, taking Alex’s hand in his and pulling him to his feet.
Alex had to lock his knees to keep from collapsing, his body slack, sucked, and sated.
But they weren’t done. Elijah hadn’t come.
With his hands cupping Alex’s face, Elijah pulled him in for an open mouth kiss, their tongues dueling. Alex tasted the saltiness of himself on Elijah’s tongue, smelled the tang of sweat and musk of sex.
God, that man could kiss.
It was like Elijah poured all of his emotion into the kiss until Alex could practically taste Elijah’s excitement, his attraction, his arousal. Elijah didn’t kiss just to kiss. He was a hundred percent present in the moment, taking Alex in.
Even though Alex had barely recovered from coming for the second time that day, he hadn’t gone entirely soft.
Now it was his turn to pleasure Elijah.
His hands shook as he reached for the button on Elijah’s shorts. Elijah dropped his hand to Alex’s, his other wrapped around Alex’s head and pulled him in close, their chests touching, their sweat sliding and mixing together as the stage lights beat down on them like a Sahara summer sun.
Out of the corner of his eye, Alex caught Vin kneeling with his camera, shooting upward from the ground.
Elijah whispered in Alex’s ear. “You don’t have to do this.”
Alex swallowed hard. He’d never touched another man’s cock. But it was a job, right? Niko was paying them both a wad of cash because that’s what it took to get a straight guy to jack and suck another guy off.
This didn’t mean anything.
Being curious about what it would feel like to have another man in his hands, to bring him pleasure the way Elijah had brought pleasure and satisfaction to him, didn’t have to mean anything either.
He could do this and still call himself straight, like Grant, Reyes, and Darius all did.
In answer, Alex pulled back and brushed Elijah’s staying hand away, worked the button free, and took the zipper down inch by inch. Elijah rested his forehead on Alex’s shoulder and swallowed with an audible click, his breath already coming faster.
Elijah reached down and dropped his shorts and jock over his hips and kicked them away.
God, he was really doing this.
“You don’t—” Elijah started to say again until Alex’s hand closed around Elijah’s shaft, his words dying with a groan.
The girth felt foreign in Alex’s hand. He hadn’t expected that. As well as the slight curvature at the tip. He ran his thumb up the prominent vein on the underside until it crested the head and slid through the moisture gathering there.
Elijah’s breath caught, and the bite of teeth on Alex’s collarbone sent a shiver up his spine like a line drive straight back to the pitcher—a shot so fast you can’t think, you can only react.
Alex increased the speed of his strokes from base to tip and back again. When he reached down with his other hand and cupped Elijah’s heavy balls, Elijah’s head fell back, a moan of pleasure ripping from his throat.
Leaning in, Alex nipped and sucked his way up Elijah’s neck, to the corner of his jaw—the first faint hints of stubble grazing Alex’s lips like ultra-fine sandpaper—all the while stroking Elijah, bringing him closer and closer to the edge, if the way the man had started to pant was any indication.
“Faster,” Elijah managed as he threaded an arm around Alex’s waist, his hands palming Alex’s ass and giving him a squeeze.
Elijah pumped into Alex’s hand, his hips gaining momentum as Alex jacked him off. Then Elijah’s hips went erratic, and he buried his head in the crook of Alex’s neck, his warm breath super heating Alex’s skin.
“Jesus Christ.” Elijah took Alex’s hand in one of his own, guiding Alex to the speed, grip, and length of stroke that he liked best. “Like that, babe.”
Babe?
Elijah went stiff, his breathing ragged, rough, raw. Beneath Alex’s hand, the spurt of Elijah’s spunk came from deep down, the heat and slickness of semen spilling into their joined hands.
Elijah chuckled, his smile shy. “Damn.” He pulled Alex in for a kiss, his tongue sweeping in. “That—”
“Cut!”
Alex brought Elijah back in for the kiss. Fuck. Were all guys this good at kissing or just Elijah? Alex couldn’t get enough of that man’s mouth. And those lips. “That was—”
“Hot.” Elijah finished for him.
Vin tapped Alex on the bicep with the back of his hand. “You guys can stop now. We’re done filming.”
“Yeah. Right. Sorry about that.” Elijah’s softening cock dropped from Alex’s hand.
“Nice work, guys,” Niko called out, his attention already going to Rose who had something on a laptop she needed to show him.
Sebastian moved onto the set, tossed Alex and Elijah a damp towel for a cursory clean up, and laid their robes on the couch behind them. “We’ve got one more shoot for the day, then Niko is taking everyone out to dinner.”
“Sure,” Alex said.
Elijah made one of those faces and Alex knew the next thing out of the man’s mouth would be an excuse. “I’ve got this thing,” he said, rather non-committally. “I’m gonna have to take a rain check.”
“Sure, whatever. Niko likes to host a dinner to thank everyone for their hard work. It’s not mandatory.” Then he turned to Alex as he started backing off the set. “You’ll be there, right?”
Alex had thought he would have wanted to get away as soon as he could from the guy who’d sucked his cock, but he felt strangely disappointed that Elijah wouldn’t be there. He’d didn’t want to go to dinner and be the only new guy, but
he didn’t have much of an excuse either. “I’ll be there.”
The two of them finished cleaning up as best they could with the damp towels, but as Alex shrugged into his robe, there was something niggling at him. “Hey, Eli...” He didn’t know how to say what he had to say without it coming out wrong or sounding needy.
Elijah glanced around, but everyone had left the set. Only the two of them remained. He cocked his head and really focused on Alex.
“Hey, man. You got something to say, don’t be shy about saying it to me. I know we don’t know each other that well, but you had your dick in my mouth. I think that kind of forces openness, and intimacy, yeah?”
Alex huffed out a laugh. “I guess you have a point.” Still...
Say it, scrote.
“It’s... At the end there, you called me ‘babe.’”
The stutter in the Elijah’s movement as he tied his robe didn’t escape Alex’s attention. Though he wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t been watching Elijah’s hands and avoiding looking him in the eye. “Did I?”
Alex shrugged. “It was probably—”
“An in the moment kind of thing. You know. Didn’t mean anything.”
“Yeah. Of course. I didn’t think—I mean...” Alex scrubbed his hand down his face. He shouldn’t have said anything. Embarrassment rushed in as if he’d stepped onto the mound for the first time and every pitch he threw landed three feet in front of the plate, the crowd roaring with laughter.
Elijah clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on. Time to hit those showers.”
7
An in the moment kind of thing.
Alex grunted, pushing the plate on the incline leg press. It was his last set on his dreaded leg day. His quads burned, his legs shook, and he should be concentrating on his breathing, not on the words Elijah had said to him more than three weeks before.
“Four more.” Trevor coached from beside him. They were at the gym attached to, and run by, the rehab facility. While this wasn’t one of Alex’s rehab sessions, for the past few months he and Trevor had started working out together after hours, pushing each other that extra mile or two.
“What?”
Trevor bumped his chin towards Alex. Alex glanced down at his legs. His knees were locked, the plate fully extended. He hadn’t realized he’d stopped in the middle of his set. Jesus, he needed to get his head in the game before he hurt himself.
He flexed his knees and straightened them again as Trevor counted down the reps.
“Four. Three. Two.”
Alex gritted his teeth, straining on the last rep. But Trevor egged him on.
“Come on, come on. Push, you pussy. One.”
“Scrote,” Alex said as he blew out a breath on his last rep. He’d need a wheelchair to make it out of the building because chances were, he’d never walk again.
“Scrote? What the hell are you talking about?”
“Scrotes are weak, pussies are—”
Trevor gave Alex his patented what-the-actual-fairy-fuck look.
“Never mind. Forget I said anything.”
Sweat dripped down Alex’s face, and Trevor tossed him a towel. “What’s up with you, man? You’ve been weird these past few weeks and...”
Trevor’s words died as one of the gym regulars came out of the locker room. Trevor clocked the gym rat all the way to the squat rack. “Damn, I’d give up a nut to spot for that man.”
Alex watched the man as well. One of the many dedicated bodybuilders the high-end gym attracted. Trevor swatted Alex on the shoulder.
“What?”
“I’m gay. I’ve got an excuse for ogling that guy. What’s your excuse?”
Alex swiped his keys and his water bottle off the mat. “I can appreciate a man’s body without being gay. I can see the hard work he’s put in, the dedication, the consistency, the sacrifice.”
“Uh huh.” Trevor’s eyes narrowed, all in good fun.
But Alex had had about enough of this gay shit. Especially since it had been a constant narrative running non-stop through his head ever since he’d left Black Stallion. “Knock it the fuck off. Okay?”
Trevor held up his hands. “Sorry, dude.” Why the hell was Trevor the one who looked offended?
“Look there’s nothing wrong with being gay.”
Trevor gave an exaggerated toss of his head and a snap of his fingers. A side of him he rarely showed. “Damn straight.”
“But I’m not. Can you drop it?” Alex headed for the locker room. All he wanted was a shower and some food and a comfy bed so he could get up tomorrow and do it all the fuck over again. His own personal hellish version of Groundhog Day.
And probably do all that work for nothing. Because yeah, his career was on life support and he was too damn stubborn to reach over and pull the plug.
Trevor caught up to him and joined him in the locker room. “Why are you being so sensitive? You know I didn’t mean anything by it.”
Alex plopped down on the bench. His legs sighed with relief. “I know you didn’t. Let’s forget about it, okay? I’m tired and hungry and—”
Trevor looked him up and down. “Is that all it is?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
Babe.
An in the moment kind of thing.
Gah! Alex needed a good solid wall to bang his head against and knock Elijah’s voice out of his brain once and for all. Maybe one of the lockers would do.
Trevor stared at him, then his expression went soft, Alex knew he wasn’t going to like whatever came out of his friend’s mouth next. “Can I show you something in my office?”
Inside his locker, Alex’s phone rang. “Hang on a sec.” Alex opened his locker and picked up his cell phone. Frankie Chin. A reporter from the local news station. Alex had gone to high school with the guy. That was the only reason Alex could give to explain why Chin was so obsessed with Alex’s rehab. Newsflash, his career was still in the shitter.
“You need to get that?”
Alex sent the call to voice mail and noticed three other missed calls. All from Chin, but no messages. The guy seriously needed to get a hobby. Or find another broken down athlete to stalk. “No. It’s fine.”
He returned his phone to the locker. “Give me ten minutes to shower. I’ll meet you there.”
The shower could have waited, but he needed a few minutes alone because, for some reason, unease sloshed around in Alex’s gut making him feel... off. It wasn’t so much what Trevor had said about wanting to show him something as much as it was the timidity in his voice and the way he’d looked past Alex when he’d said it. It rattled him.
“Sure. See you in ten.”
Alex had the locker room to himself. He grabbed his towel and headed to the showers. The gym had a bank of individual stalls, and Alex stepped into the first one. He hung his towel on the hook and turned on the water, cranking up the heat to help loosen his tight muscles.
He’d rinsed off before he realized he’d left his shampoo and body wash in his locker. He stuck his hand under the dispenser on the wall and squirted the generic shampoo into his hand and started lathering his hair.
The shampoo was slow to suds and the smell... Alex closed his eyes and sniffed the suds in his hands. The aroma vaguely reminded him of sea and spice, like the shampoo in the showers back at Black Stallion.
Blood rushed south at the scent memory. Some sort of dickified Pavlovian response. Without bidding, and despite the mental blocks Alex had tried to erect in his brain since his little foray to Black Stallion, Elijah’s handsome face popped into Alex’s head.
Alex rinsed his hair and, lacking his body wash, used the shampoo to lather up his body, his dick already hard by the time he got around to washing his junk.
You’re not jacking off to Elijah.
Didn’t stop you the last time. Or the time before that or the time—
Alex slapped his hand down on the shower control. “Enough!”
“You talking to me, dude?” someone said from arou
nd the corner.
Alex pinched the bridge of his nose. He’d been so up in his head he hadn’t heard anyone come in. “No, man. Sorry.”
After a perfunctory drying off, Alex wrapped the towel around his waist and strode back to his locker, beads of water dripping from his hair and down his chest and back.
The man gave Alex a bob of his chin. Alex returned it without a word. He’d seen the guy around before, but they’d never really spoken. For the first time since his more inhibited days in junior high, Alex slipped his underwear and jeans on under his towel. Alex would rather let the guy think he was shy than let a stranger see the wood he sported. Not that the guy was looking or anything.
Alex’s phone rang again, but he silenced it and slipped it into his pocket without looking at the number. He finished dressing and shouldered his gym bag, heading for Trevor’s office over at the rehab facility.
At Trevor’s open door, he knocked.
Trevor glanced up from his computer. “Come in. Close the door.”
“Now you’ve really got me scared.”
Trevor rolled a pen across his knuckles and back again. “The recreational baseball signups are due at the end of the day. You’re signing up on our team, right? We’re a couple of men short.”
“This is why you called me in here?”
“No, but my team captain is on my ass.”
The last thing Alex wanted to do was play on a rec league like some has-been or forty-year-old man in therapy because he’d never been picked for the high school baseball team.
“I thought this was an all-gay team.”
“They’re willing to make an exception for you as long as you can hit the ball.”
“I’m a pitcher. The Grizzlies didn’t sign me because I could hit.”
“Come on, man, you still hit better than most of them. Besides, as your physical therapist, I think it would be good for your arm for you to throw the ball around and not pitch.”
“I do throw the ball around.”
Trevor stared at him.