Trevor surprised him by dropping the sheet down once more, although it was now most definitely tented. “Do you want me to take off my shirt and jeans?” Trevor whispered.
Matt’s eyes widened. Oh, hell yeah, he wanted to see Trevor without his clothes on. “You do that?”
Trevor nodded, his eyes downcast. “I keep on my briefs. You can touch over, but not under. If you want.”
Matt jerked his head in a nod. Trevor quickly slid down his jeans and pulled off his shirt, revealing smooth skin, his nipples small and brown, not muscular pecs but definitely some definition. He had no hair except for a thin happy trail running down his toned abs, heading into his black boxer briefs. His thighs were sexy as fuck. And the bulge in his briefs seemed to be growing under Matt’s perusal. Matt wanted to touch him so badly, but he just couldn’t unclench his hands. It was too much, too many steps in one day.
“Ready?” Trevor softly asked.
Matt nodded and closed his eyes again. Trevor poured more lotion on his hands and spread them across Matt’s chest, paying special attention to his nipples, circling them with his fingers and then grasping the buds between his thumb and index fingers, pinching gently. Oh, holy hell, Matt felt the sensation shoot straight to his balls, the blood pulsing in his cock. Begging for Trevor to do it again. And he did. Trevor rolled Matt’s now-hard nipples between his fingers, and Matt suddenly wanted more. Wanted Trevor’s mouth on him, his lips, his teeth. But he couldn’t ask. He didn’t even know if that was allowed.
Then the moment was over as Trevor’s hand slid along Matt’s belly, caressing each hard-won ab until his hand finally slipped under the white sheet to firmly grasp Matt’s aching cock.
“Oh, holy fuck,” Matt cursed. How did that feel a thousand times better than his own hand? And then Trevor squeezed. “Please,” Matt whispered.
Trevor started to slide his hand up and down, curling it into a wet fist around Matt’s dick. Milking down to the base and back up again with a twist when he reached the head. Back down again. So fucking slowly. Too slowly. Too softly.
“Faster, harder,” Matt groaned. He needed relief now.
Trevor immediately obeyed, his hand squeezing tighter as he set up a faster rhythm, down, up, twist, down, up, twist. Every time Trevor reached the sensitive skin underneath the head of his cock, Matt groaned in ecstasy, and that slight twist of Trevor’s hand was fucking incredible. The pressure built inside him. The tingle in his balls. Too good, it felt too good. He wanted it to last forever.
Trevor gently cupped his balls, giving them a soft squeeze as the fist pumped furiously, and Matt’s orgasm exploded out of him. Jet after jet of come shooting onto his belly, years of pent-up sexual tension spurting out of him.
“Ohgod-ohgod-ohgod,” he moaned as the orgasm seemed to go on and on, making his toes clench and curl. By the time he started floating back to reality, Trevor was quickly swiping away the come on his belly with a damp towel, yanking up his own pants, and lowering the sheet once more.
Trevor was out the door before Matt could say a word.
A long minute passed. And then Matt slowly sat up. He felt both euphoric and relaxed . . . and kinda like a cheap one-night stand. Well, shit. He scrubbed his hands over his face, trying not to freak out. It had been good. Better than good. It had been epic.
He was totally, definitely, absolutely gay. Because while the handjob had felt good, it was the fact that Trevor had been the one touching him that had made it the best orgasm of his life.
Oh shit, he had a crush on the hot masseur at a happy ending parlor. His love life really was doomed.
Trevor stumbled into the employee locker room and headed straight for the shower. He shucked off his jeans, cranked on the water, and stepped inside as soon as it was warm. He immediately started fisting his rock-hard cock. Holy shit, that had been the hottest thing ever.
Matt Lancaster was a walking wet dream. And the way he’d moaned and twisted and cursed under Trevor’s ministrations. His hot, hard body, all solid muscle and his long, perfect dick— Fuck. It only took three more strokes before Trevor was shooting his load all over the tile wall, coming hard as hell. Damn.
Trevor was no innocent. He’d had one rather kinky fuck buddy after his second year at Bodine, a playwright from New York who was visiting his sick grandmother. Yeah, that sex had been eye-opening. Yet, somehow, giving Matt Lancaster a handjob—his very first from a man—was the hottest thing he’d ever done. The hottest thing he’d ever seen.
Trevor turned off the shower, yanked his wet hair out of the elastic band to dry, and got dressed. Matt was his last client, but now he had a four-hour shift at the coffeehouse, and a one-hour tutoring session afterward. Once he did his problem sets, he’d be lucky to get a few hours of sleep.
As Trevor packed up his bag, Samantha walked in with a big grin. “He left you a huge tip. Guess you did something right this time.”
“Thanks,” Trevor briskly replied, taking the white envelope from her. It made him feel a bit sick to his stomach. Up until that moment, he almost hadn’t felt like a whore. He hurried away from Samantha, pushing out the back exit and climbing into his car. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself. He wasn’t a whore, he wasn’t.
Matt was the exception. He was temptation incarnate. How could Trevor have said no to that? He’d wanted Matt so damned bad for so damn long. And Matt seemed to maybe want him too. The way he’d slowly taken in Trevor’s half-clad body with that heated look in his eyes. Like he definitely approved of what he was seeing. Like he wanted to lick and bite and touch every inch of him . . .
Trevor pounded his hands against the steering wheel in frustration.
Trevor had been disappointed as hell when Matt hadn’t taken him up on the offer to touch. But it hadn’t been a rejection really. Matt had seemed more . . . shy?
If Matt really was into guys, he couldn’t have actually been with many, like, even for kissing. That sort of thing would get around. And a gay quarterback at a Division II football school in the deep South? Yeah, that would never be okay. The thought made Trevor sad. Sad for Matt, sad for the shitty state of the world.
Trevor started his car and headed back toward campus, unable to get Matt out of his mind, reliving each of the guy’s reactions. They’d been so genuine and raw and hungry. Not just for an orgasm but for his touch, for affection? Trevor shook his head. He couldn’t get hung up on some closeted jock. It had been one hell of a massage, but it was over. Done. He needed to focus on his studies.
But, instead, Trevor fell asleep with his Financial Economics book on his chest and dreamed of Matt’s perfect, cut cock and his flushed pink skin as he’d come.
The next morning, Trevor’s roommate’s alarm woke him up.
“What time is it?” Trevor mumbled, hiding under the covers, partly to block out the sun and partly to block out Drew’s fuchsia sweater and rainbow scarf. “Your outfit’s making my eyes hurt. It screams ‘I’m a gay musical-theater major.’ Which is totally redundant.”
“It is not,” Drew gasped, faking mock horror. “We have two straight guys in the program.”
“Only ’cause you haven’t turned them yet.”
Drew laughed. “Hey, a guy’s gotta have a hobby. But even I think this outfit is hideous.”
“Then why are you wearing it?”
“The LGBTQ group is doing a Breast Cancer Awareness video this afternoon,” Drew explained.
“All eight of you?”
“You could join us and make it nine,” Drew singsonged. “Besides, it’s in honor of Professor Halbrook. She’s going through chemo.”
“Oh shit, sorry. How about I edit it together for you?” Trevor offered, knowing Drew was terrible at anything technical, even basic editing software.
“Thanks. Now we can pretend that I hadn’t already volunteered you for the job,” Drew said with a cheeky grin. “Now get out of bed or you’ll be late.”
“Wait, what?” Trevor jerked fully awake to look at the time. He
only had fifteen minutes before his shift at the coffee shop. “Damn it, why didn’t you tell me my alarm hadn’t gone off?”
“You looked exhausted,” Drew replied. “Seriously, the dark circles under your eyes almost take away from your pretty little face.”
“Yeah, uh-huh, thanks for your concern.” He threw on his jeans and the first clean shirt he could find, and then raced out of the room.
Trevor hopped onto his bike and headed across the campus toward the Daily Grind. He hated getting up early, but he always loved the campus on mornings like this. It had rained a bit in the night, so the old oak trees were vivid green, standing in stark contrast to the red brick buildings with their white columns. He hadn’t known much about Bodine College when he’d gotten their acceptance letter; he’d just wanted away from Texas. But it really was a beautiful campus.
His manager at the coffeehouse greeted him with a roll of her eyes. He was never, ever late. So five minutes wasn’t really a big deal. He hurriedly tied on an apron and looked at the current orders waiting to be filled. But his manager motioned him over to the cash register instead.
“I need you to take over while I handle a delivery,” she said.
Trevor nodded and set about assisting the customers. Twenty minutes later, the place was packed and he was barking out order after order. “Who’s next?” he called, and the next customer moved to his cash register.
Trevor’s smile froze on his face when he looked up to find Matt’s best friend, Connor, standing in front of him. Towering a good few inches above him as well.
“Hey, man, is the line always this long?” Connor looked around at the chaos.
Trevor forced his brain to work. “Uh, yeah, we’re the best coffee near campus.”
“Huh? Normally, we just make it in our suite, but the damn thing broke. So, I’ll take a red eye.”
“Name?” Trevor asked, even though he knew it, and then after Connor gave it, Trevor gave the order to the barista behind him. “Anything else?”
“Uh, yeah. Hey, man, what do you want?” Connor shouted to his friend across the way.
Trevor turned to look in horror as Matt Lancaster broke off the conversation he was having with some chick and headed over. The moment Matt’s eyes met Trevor’s, the guy froze like a gay deer caught in rainbow-colored headlights.
Connor stared at his friend, then back at Trevor with a questioning look. Matt seemed to snap out of it, and suddenly his whole expression changed into a friendly smile. Only Trevor seemed to realize how fake it was.
“Hey, uh, a small cappuccino please,” he ordered.
“Cappuccino for Matt, please,” Trevor called out to the barista behind him.
“You two know each other?” Connor asked, and Trevor wanted to kick himself for calling out Matt’s name rather than asking for it.
“Uh, sorta,” Trevor mumbled. Great, just great. Stunning comeback.
“Really?” Connor said, and the way that he was sizing Trevor up, he worried that Connor had maybe seen him at the massage parlor. That was bad, very bad. He had no idea what Matt’s friends knew, but he didn’t want to be the one who outed him.
“Yeah, I’m a tutor,” Trevor decided to say, turning to Matt with an impersonal smile. “I think I was introduced in one of your sections . . .” Trevor trailed off, praying, praying that Matt would catch on.
“Uh, yeah, Statistics,” Matt quickly replied. “It’s killing me this semester.”
“You’re taking Statistics? Really?” Connor asked in surprise, and Trevor was glad for the question. He’d wanted to ask the same thing. What major was Matt?
“Yeah, I’m an environmental science major; there is actual work involved. I’m not a total idiot,” Matt snapped at Connor.
“Shit, you’re in a bad mood.” Connor handed over a ten to Trevor. “Get laid already.”
Trevor’s head jerked up at those words, and he accidentally slammed his finger into the cash drawer. He hissed in pain.
“You okay?” Matt managed to cough out, a blush spreading over his face.
“Yeah, yeah, fine. Uh, you can pick up your order over there,” Trevor quickly said, desperately needing the interaction to be over before he made an even bigger ass of himself.
Thankfully, Matt shoved Connor away from the cash register to the far side of the coffeehouse to wait for their orders. Trevor tried to focus on his next client, but he just couldn’t believe his luck. Three years, three fucking years, and he’d had no actual interactions with Matt Lancaster since their freshman class together.
But the day after a paid handjob . . . the guy showed up at the Daily Grind during his shift. God had a seriously sick sense of humor. Apparently at Trevor’s expense. Like usual.
An entire week went by without Trevor seeing Matt again. He tried to convince himself he wasn’t hopeful every time Samantha headed his way, especially when she came over with a deluxe massage request. But it was for some guy just passing through, a married salesman she was guessing, and Trevor turned it down.
“Not who you were hoping for?” she asked, a little too observant.
Trevor didn’t rise to the bait. “If he comes in again, he’s my client. Okay?”
She just pursed her lips and nodded.
But he didn’t really think it would happen. Matt Lancaster had probably just been exploring some kink. He sure as hell wouldn’t come back for another round. The guy didn’t need to pay for a handjob. There were a hundred girls (and guys) who would do it for free.
So Trevor stumbled in shock when he walked into his massage room on Sunday afternoon and found Matt waiting for him. He was still fully clothed, sitting on the massage table, a clipboard in hand. They stared at each other for a long moment.
“Hey,” Matt finally said.
“Hey,” Trevor replied.
Then Matt held up the clipboard. “Uh, the lady up front told me to fill this out, but, um, it’s kinda personal. What if someone finds it?”
Trevor looked down at the form in Matt’s hand. It was meant for their regular clients who utilized all the perks. Clients that were normally seen late at night. By people that weren’t him. He knew the procedure. “They’re actually used in a lot of massage places,” Trevor explained. “Normally, clients indicate where they have injuries or stress, places to work out the tension, that sort of thing. So if anyone did find it, they wouldn’t think much of it. But we make sure to keep them locked up.”
“Oh,” Matt said, shifting a bit, as if uncomfortable. “But I circle . . .?”
Trevor was very proud of himself when he managed to calmly reply, “Erogenous zones. Put an X in any place you don’t like.”
“So you use these a lot?” Matt asked, studiously turning his focus to the form in question. And suddenly Trevor very much wanted him to know he’d never had a client fill one out before.
“Uh, others do. Not me. You’re my first,” Trevor said, feeling a bit too exposed with such honesty. But, damn it, it mattered to him what Matt thought.
“Oh, okay.” Matt looked both relieved and awkward, and he gave a shy smile. Trevor felt his stupid heart do some melty thing inside his chest.
Yeah, he seriously needed a second to regroup. So Trevor stepped over to the door.
“I’ll just give you a minute to fill out the form and get undressed,” Trevor said, and he quickly slipped out of the room.
Trevor leaned against the wall in the hallway, taking long deep breaths, trying not to panic. He was going to kill Samantha. Why the hell hadn’t she given him a heads-up? And why had she given Matt one of the forms? That kind of work was usually for after-hours clients only. It was more intimate, more thorough. Trevor knew he was supposed to memorize it, then turn it over for Samantha to hide away wherever she kept such documents. It wasn’t exactly a perfect system; it wasn’t like what they were doing was legal.
Although, Trevor knew that Samantha was very well connected. As in, she had quite a few regulars who were law enforcement. Powerful men. Samantha ra
n the day-to-day operation, but the owner, Samantha’s aunt, had been in business for almost thirty years. Clearly, they knew how to run the place without any problems.
Trevor brushed his sweaty palms on his pants and rapped softly on the door. When he heard Matt tell him to enter, he bravely stepped inside. The clipboard was waiting on the counter. Trevor headed over to it, trying to avoid eye contact with Matt.
But Matt seemed less nervous. “Toes,” Matt said dryly into the silence. “Toes were an option. People like their toes sucked?”
Trevor let out a surprised laugh. He’d forgotten that was on the form. He’d only seen it once. “I don’t suck on toes, so if you circled it . . .” Trevor shrugged, feeling some of his tension drain away with Matt’s sense of humor.
“I didn’t,” Matt assured him. “I promise. Toes are not a thing for me.”
“Have you ever tried it?” Trevor asked with a challenging look, starting to enjoy himself.
But Matt didn’t take the bait. He just shrugged back. “Nope. Never been on my couch, watching the game, and suddenly felt the urge to suck my own toes. Sorry.”
Trevor laughed again, shaking his head. The guy was funny. And yet all this talk of sucking toes made Trevor wonder if it wouldn’t be so bad to suck on Matt’s. A jock should have disgusting feet, but Matt’s had been . . . manly.
So, what else did Matt like and not like? Trevor picked up the form, now curious as hell. Trevor had circled nipples on the form—okay, that was . . . making him a bit hard. Remembering the sounds Matt had made last time when Trevor had pinched his nipples. Shit.
Trevor reached down to adjust himself in his tight jeans. Then he looked back at the survey. Navel was circled, as well as neck and ear lobe. He had not circled the lips, which Trevor was disappointed about. Damn, he wanted to kiss the guy. Matt had also very clearly put a huge X over his butt. Clearly, the guy had a hang-up about anything anal. Although he’d seemed to like the regular glute massage last time. Still, it wasn’t something a lot of guys openly admitted to craving.
The Quarterback Page 4