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More Than Summer

Page 2

by Shawn Lane

I grinned unrepentantly. “You’re filthy rich and famous, and I’m envious is all. Fuck me. I dream of having a pool like this.”

  “I’m not filthy rich,” Brady insisted. “But I did get a good deal on this place. Come inside.”

  I followed him in through the sliding-glass back door, which he apparently kept unlocked. I had been forced to tear my gaze away from the pool to do so. We moved through what was clearly a sunroom into a hall that twisted unexpectedly to a narrow staircase.

  “These are the back stairs,” Brady explained. “Normally I’d just go through the front, but since I wanted to show you the yard, this works.”

  Part of me really wanted a tour of the place, but realistically, I wasn’t there on a house tour, and Brady was no guide. I was there for sex, and apparently we were going to get right to it. Which, honestly, I was all for too.

  We went down a very short hall before turning to the right and what I assumed was the master bedroom. It was larger than most of the previous places I’d lived. There was a sitting room with a sofa facing a fireplace and a desk off to the side overlooking a window out to the bluff below.

  It must be good to be rich, I thought as he led me straight past this into the main bedroom. I was unsurprised to see the king-size bed. Everything in this house seemed to be about opulence and excess. And really, could I say I wouldn’t have done the same? Growing up pretty poor sometimes made you want the good life. In Brady’s case…the really good life.

  He was standing by the bed now, kind of smiling at me, almost shyly, which did surprise me.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I’m not being very subtle, huh? Just bringing you to the bedroom and saying, take off your clothes.”

  I laughed. “We both know why I’m here. Do you have to be subtle?”

  He sunk his teeth into his lip. “I feel like I’m usually more suave than this.” He stepped over to me. “You’re really hot, and I’m really horny.”

  I placed my hand just below his clavicle and above a swath of dark, coarse hair. “I don’t think you’re hearing any complaints.”

  Brady smiled then, a smile I was sure would win him many acting roles, and took my hand from his torso and directed me toward the bed. “Why don’t you get ready and I’ll get some supplies?”

  He headed for the bathroom while I sat on the edge of the bed to remove my shoes and the rest of my clothes. This was all happening so fast my head was spinning a little, as though I had been drinking to excess. But I knew Brady. Well, I’d known him as a kid. In reality there was little I knew about this version of him except that he was rich and liked it that way.

  Naked now, I scooted up to the headboard of the bed, feeling vaguely vulnerable. I was just an ordinary guy who was usually too busy to get much of a workout to tone anything, and Brady no doubt worked with a personal trainer every day. Even with his clothes on I could tell he was muscular everywhere.

  Brady came out of the bathroom holding a lube bottle and a strip of condoms. More than one was probably pretty hopeful, but there was no harm in indulging the fantasy. He walked to the foot of the bed and stared at me.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said with such sincerity I almost believed him without reminding myself he was an actor.

  “And I’m the only one who’s naked. Want to join me?” I held out my hand for the bottle, and he swiftly tossed it at me. I flipped the lid even as I watched him peeling off his tank top and Bermuda shorts. When his erect cock popped out with no encumbrance, I was not at all surprised he’d gone commando.

  I was a little shocked at how big his dick was. It seemed too much of a corny cliché to wonder out loud if it would fit, though, so I pretended not to be particularly worried and squirted out slick lube all over my fingers.

  Brady knelt on the bed, his dark eyes focused intently on what I was doing. I moistened my lips with my tongue, aware he watched that with that same intensity. He could be a little intimidating sometimes, and I could see why he’d been chosen to play his role in the TV show.

  I spread my legs apart and pushed my slicked fingers into my hole, stretching myself.

  “Fuck,” Brady rasped.

  “You did say to get ready,” I said, trying to make myself sound haughty.

  “I’m smarter than I thought.” He tore off a packet from the strip of condoms. “Seeing you finger yourself is…fuck.”

  “Leaves you pretty much speechless, huh?” I groaned as I pushed my fingers deeper. My cock was hard and leaking as it lay against my thigh.

  Brady laughed. “Pretty much. Hand me that lube.”

  I threw it back at him, and he caught it in mid-air. He oozed some out onto his big hand and then slid his grip along his erection, making it glisten. He crawled toward me and then stopped between my legs.

  “Watching you fuck yourself is damn hot.”

  I grinned. “You should see me with a dildo.”

  His pupils were blown wide. “I’d like to.”

  “Another time,” I said softly. I seriously doubted there’d be another time. I withdrew my fingers and then grabbed my ass cheeks, spreading them to give him a good view of my hole. A definite invitation.

  Brady didn’t say a word, just scooted closer to me and placed himself flush against my thighs as he lifted them up, hiking them around his waist. Slowly, like he had maybe days to do it, he pushed into me, past the ring of muscle that was loose and ready for him. I placed one hand on the underside of my left thigh, rising up so he could slide in as deep as possible, and I slid my other hand over to my own aching cock.

  I had a fleeting thought to how I had never imagined when I woke up this morning that later I would be pinned to someone’s bed getting fucked, let alone that someone being Brady Laurens. But as his cock rubbed against my prostate, dragging a moan from my lips, all thought flew out of my head except the most important one…come.

  The man knew how to fuck. Each thrust seemed perfectly mastered to drive me insane. As I clutched at my erection, my grip faltered, falling away for a moment, and I turned my head to the side, moaning into the bed, aching at each thorough pump of my ass. It was a rare thing to be this turned on without my cock being thoroughly stimulated, but damn.

  My entrance seemed to open further for him as he drilled into me, harder, deeper, making the bed slam against the wall with every slam into me.

  “Touch yourself,” Brady urged, although it came out more as an order. Not that I minded.

  I moved my hand back down to curl my fingers around my cock, thrilling as it jumped at my touch. It pulsed in my grip as I jerked as timed to his thrusts as I was able. I keened as every nerve ending in my body seemed to light at once, buzzing through my skin, and then becoming concentrated in only one place. My cock erupted, cum shooting all over my sliding fingers, onto my stomach and thighs. It roared through me, potent and powerful, as I gasped at the intensity.

  Above me, in me, Brady still moved, thrusting and pushing inside me with ever increasing need, breathless pants coming out, as his fingers gripped my hipbones. He flung his head back and, with a shout loud enough to wake the dead, he tensed and poured into the condom.

  * * * *

  I must have fallen asleep, for when I came to he was hovering above me on the bed, smoothing back my hair and using a damp green washcloth to wipe me down. His lips were curved into a half smile.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey yourself.”

  “That was…thank you.”

  Brady chuckled. “No. Thank you.”

  I blinked rapidly. “What time is it?”

  “A little after eleven.”

  “At night?”

  “Yes, at night.”

  “Must have zonked out. Sorry.”

  His thumb brushed my bottom lip. “You have nothing at all to be sorry for, Jere.” He tilted his head. “Did you want to spend the night?”

  “Unfortunately, I really can’t. Rick’s probably not very happy with me skipping out, and anyway I have to be at the hospital early in t
he morning.” I struggled to sit up. “I can call one of those driving services to take me home.”

  “No way. I’ll take you. I’m the one who wanted you to come over.” Brady patted my bare thigh. “Let’s get dressed, and we can be on our way.”

  I got out of the bed and made my way to the bathroom, grabbing my clothes as I went. After I relieved my bladder, I got dressed, and came back out to the bedroom. Brady was already dressed with keys in hand. He also held my phone, which apparently had come out of my jeans when I’d undressed.

  He smiled as he handed it to me. “Ready?”

  I stuffed it in my front pocket. “Sure.”

  Of course it was fully dark now and as went down the main staircase to the front door, Brady turned on a light or two.

  “I never did get the full tour,” I said half-jokingly as I headed to his car.

  “Next time.”

  He was strangely quiet on the drive out of the canyon and over to the PCH. I wasn’t sure what that meant for his mood so I decided not to push it. I wasn’t really one for making small talk myself.

  There was always traffic along this road, but it was much lighter than during the day, and in what seemed like no time he was pulling into the Laurel Canyon area where my rental was.

  He pulled up to the curb. “Here we are.”

  “Great, thank you.” I started to pull the handle when he reached over and put his hand on my arm.

  “Before I have to go back to work, I’m going to make a trip up north. Go wine tasting up there in Sonoma and Napa. Get a beach house in Bodega Bay. I love the idea of sitting on a deck looking out over the ocean while a summer breeze hits my face. Interested?”

  I had to admit I was thrilled at the invitation, having thought mere moments before that this was most definitely a one-night thing. And it sure sounded like heaven to me.

  “When? With my hours as a nurse, it’s sometimes difficult to get days off.”

  Brady took my phone out of the front pocket of my jeans. He frowned when it asked for the passcode and handed it back to me.

  With a laugh, I put in the number and gave it back.

  “Here’s my number,” he said as he punched it into the phone. “Text me what days will work best for you. I’ll come and pick you up, and we’ll be on our way.”

  “You can get a beach house in Bodega Bay just whenever?”

  He grinned. “I have my sources. Agree?”

  “Yeah, okay,” I said as I slipped my phone back into my pocket. “I have to admit that sounds really great. But do you really need to go to a beach house to get away from your beach house?”

  “You have a point to a certain extent, but being at my own house isn’t much of a vacation, is it?”

  “Probably not. And I was joking. Mostly.” I opened the car door. “See you soon.”

  “Bye…Jeremiah.”

  As I headed up the stone steps to the house, I turned slightly to watch him drive away. I didn’t continue on until he was completely out of sight. I told myself it was more because I didn’t want to face Rick yet than any sense of wistfulness.

  The house was quiet as I entered through the back door, but the lights were on, and I knew Rick wouldn’t have gone to bed yet. He was a night owl even when he had an early shift at the hospital. I went straight into the kitchen and the fridge, pulling out a bottle of cold water.

  The water was sliding down my throat when Rick strode in. He wore no shirt but he did have a pair of jeans on as well as terry-cloth flip-flops.

  “Well?”

  Lowering the bottle from my lips, I tried for a smile. “Hey, how was the rest of the party?”

  He smirked and crossed his arms over his chest. “Like you care. You were off getting laid by Brady Laurens.”

  Judging by the sudden heat in my face, I guessed I was probably blushing. “Still. I am sorry to duck out on you like that. Was it okay?”

  “Sure. If I had the opportunity to get it on with Linda Rawley, I would have left you high and dry.”

  “Was that one of the girls here?”

  Rick gaped at me. “Seriously?”

  “What?”

  “She’s the hot blonde in the same TV series as Brady Laurens.”

  “Oh.” I shrugged. “Well, I don’t actually watch it. I only know about it because I knew Brady from before.”

  “You’re hopeless,” Rick said. “Hey. Do you think he could…?”

  “No. Don’t even ask. I am not going to get Brady to help you meet Linda Rawley.”

  “You suck.” But Rick was grinning, so I knew he wasn’t really bothered by my refusal.

  I finished my water and tossed the empty plastic bottle in the recycling bin. “I’m probably going away with him for a few days.”

  “Yeah? He wants to see you again?”

  “I guess so.”

  “You must have a sweet ass.”

  “Oh shut up.” I shoved him as I walked out of the kitchen. “You’re gross. And good night. Some of us have an early-morning shift.”

  * * * *

  Eight days later, Brady pulled up outside the hospital to pick me up for a three-day getaway. I was waiting outside the non-emergency entrance. Unfortunately, he was not alone. Two cars were following him and pulled up right behind him.

  “Mister Laurens!”

  “Hey Brady!”

  I knew immediately they were the dreaded paparazzi. My heart sank, and my stomach dropped.

  Great.

  I picked up my overnight bag and hurried toward his car. I could see by the look on his face he was pissed.

  The door opened even as I approached.

  “Brady, is that your boyfriend?”

  Flashes were going off in my face as I got in, tossing my bag toward the back of the car. He gunned it even before I got my seat belt on.

  “This is a hospital parking lot,” I felt the need to remind him.

  “Sorry. I couldn’t shake them. They’ve been following me since Kanan.”

  I caught them in the side mirror still behind us as he pulled out of the parking lot. “This happen a lot?”

  “Ever since the show got so popular, yeah. They park down the hill from my house and wait for me.”

  I frowned. “I guess I can see more than ever why you’d want to get away somewhere else.”

  “Yeah.” He sighed and adjusted his sunglasses. “I didn’t mean for that to affect you. That’s probably going to end up in one of those gossip magazines. I’m sorry, Jere.”

  “It’s okay,” I assured him. “But maybe picking me up at the hospital wasn’t the best idea.”

  He grinned. “Definitely not. Once we get going on the freeway they should drop off. They won’t follow us all the way to Bodega Bay.”

  “You hope.”

  He huffed out a breath. “I hope. Probably more than you bargained for, huh?”

  “I don’t really understand the celebrity lifestyle, it’s true. I can’t imagine what it’s like to be followed everywhere.”

  “It sucks,” Brady replied as he pulled onto the freeway onramp. “But on the other hand, there are definite positives.”

  “Like the money.

  Brady chuckled. “A large perk to be sure. And sometimes you meet some really great fans. And you can help others you maybe couldn’t have before.”

  “Like?”

  “I’ve been able to donate some to the LBGT Youth Center in Los Angeles, for example. And a few other causes I’m interested in. Plus I’ve spent some time visiting sick kids at the Children’s Hospital of Los Angeles. And then there’s my parents. Being able to help them, well, it makes stuff like the paparazzi in my face kind of worth it.”

  “I bet.”

  “Anyway, enough about that. You excited for our little getaway?”

  I smiled. “The getaway? Yeah. The, like, seven-hour drive? Not so much.”

  “Relax, babe. Lean back and chill. I’ll have you there in no time.”

  * * * *

  The house he had rented
in Bodega Bay was right on the beach. It was a single-story bungalow with a large picture window in the living room that faced out to the ocean. The waves were calm at present, and the sun shone over the horizon, though I knew clouds would probably roll in later in the day. Most beaches on the Northern coast got foggy at night and early mornings, especially in the summer.

  “God, it’s breathtaking,” I said, as I stood gazing out the window. “How’d you find this place?”

  “Rental agent.” Brady went to a small wooden door to the side of the window. “Come outside with me.”

  He took hold of my hand and pulled me outside to a deck that included two lounge chairs and a heat lamp. A soft breeze blew our hair, but it was pleasantly warm.

  “I wish I lived here.”

  “It’s pretty great. I’ve been here once before.”

  I eyed him, trying to decide if I should be jealous. I was guessing he’d brought someone here before me. And really, probably would bring someone else after me. I had no right or even reason to be jealous.

  Brady gestured to one of the lounge chairs. “Join me?”

  I raised my eyebrows. “In the same chair?”

  He waggled his brows back at me.

  I laughed. “Okay.”

  He placed himself in it first and then indicated I should lie on top of him, so I moved to do so, uncertain if we would even fit. We did.

  Brady put his hand on the back of my neck and pulled me down for a kiss. I closed my eyes as I slipped my tongue into his mouth.

  He pulled back with a moan. “Wanna touch you.”

  “Here? Outside?”

  “No one can see us,” Brady said softly. He slipped his hands into the waistband of my jeans. “I want to touch us both.”

  That sent instant arousal to my groin. He undid the snap and then lowered the zipper of my pants. I couldn’t look away. My already half-hard dick was beginning to press against the confines of my briefs, and I sucked in a sharp breath when he reached into my jeans and squeezed.

  “Jesus.”

  Brady licked his lips, making them look wet and glossy. “Undo mine.”

  My fingers were shaking a bit when I undid the snaps that made up the fly of his jeans. I deliberately took my time with teasing little touches as I went. Then I slipped my hand inside and pulled his hard cock out of his boxers.

 

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