by Jack Harbon
Jordan’s palms slid over Rex’s shoulder blades smoothly, and he trailed them down his back, feeling every little muscle and knot buried beneath his skin. His kisses continued to follow, this time dotted over every freckle on the man’s back. He took his time, enjoying the feeling of Rex below his fingertips. Very rarely did he get this kind of intimacy. Jordan wasn’t going to let it go to waste this time.
When he pulled away, Rex made a noise of protest. Jordan smiled. “What?”
“Don’t stop,” he said quietly.
“You want more?”
“Please.”
“Tell me what you want, Rex,” Jordan said, burying his face in the crook of Rex’s neck and kissing his warm skin once more.
“I want you to distract me,” he said. “Make me forget about tonight. End the night on a high note.”
Rex could hardly believe the words he was saying. This wasn’t like him, this kind of gnashing, churning desperation inside of him that practically had him clinging to the sheets. There was no dishonesty to his words, though. He wanted to forget it all, to pretend like he hadn’t allowed his father to anger him so much. He wanted to wipe Georgia’s disappointed face from his mind and pretend like he hadn’t witnessed her realize the same things he had years ago.
Jordan obliged without another word, kissing his way down to Rex’s lower back. He grabbed at the waistband of Rex’s underwear and slid them down past his knees, then his ankles. Now completely bare, Rex found himself being pulled up onto his knees and Jordan spreading him apart.
“Fuck,” he breathed, torn between wanting to take control and give it at the same time. The combination terrified him, but when Jordan began stroking him with his tongue in slow, languid motions, physicality beat out rationality, and he allowed himself to ease back into the man’s hands, rolling his hips in encouragement.
Jordan lapped at him like nothing else mattered, taking his time as he explored a part of Rex so few had ever gotten the chance to. He relished in the moans the man made, how easily they could go up in pitch the deeper he went. And when he was sure Rex was on the edge of his seat and starved for something a little more satisfying, he prepared himself with a condom and more than enough lubrication to help the whole process move smoothly.
God, Rex had forgotten the sting in the beginning. It had been too long since he’d bottomed for anyone, but the lack of frequency only made him want it more. He braced himself and groaned through the stretch, eyes tight and fists clenched in the sheets. Jordan balanced it with all the works, turning his head so that they could kiss and reaching around to stroke his aching arousal.
The ease of Jordan’s movements was the biggest surprise. How could someone who looked so good on his back also be this good in the opposite position? For as good as it felt, Rex was annoyed. Of course, Jordan would be good at everything.
The sudden jerk of Jordan’s hips was exactly what he needed to get him out of his head, because the moment he felt their bodies press flush together, he gasped and his mind spun. “Yes,” he grunted, thrusting back to meet him. “Harder.”
Jordan happily obliged, pulling his hips back and thrusting forward once more, connecting their bodies with more force than before. That seemed to do wonders, judging from the way Rex threw his head back in pleasure. Sensing the other man’s preference for the rougher side of things, Jordan wrapped his hand around Rex’s bared throat. He added no pressure. The groan that he felt vibrate beneath his fingers was evidence that his hand being there was more than enough.
He buried himself inside of Rex repeatedly, one hand around his throat while he held his waist with the other. When the burn of his speed was too much, Jordan nearly folded himself over the other man and rolled his hips, stirring steadily. Once he could go again, he began thrusting just as hard, filling the room with the sound of bed squeaks, Rex’s satisfied groans, and skin slapping against skin.
Rex turned his head and reached back, pulling Jordan down into a needy, desperate kiss that quickly slipped into messy territory, their tongues brushing together like they were battling for control. Unsurprisingly given the reversal of roles, Jordan won, breaking away to trail kisses down his cheek, beard, and throat.
This was all such new territory for Jordan, but he accepted it with open arms, eventually kneeling upright again. He held onto Rex’s hips hard and began tugging him back, giving him some encouragement.
“There you go,” he moaned. “Show me you want it.”
Rex smiled darkly over his shoulder and began pressing backward to meet him, chills running down his spine with every movement. It was almost too much, seeing that devious look in Jordan’s otherwise innocent eyes. Rex couldn’t realize the last time he’d gotten this lost in sex before, but he swam as deep as he could, groaning when Jordan seized control once more.
“Yes, yes,” Jordan huffed out breathlessly. He was right there, and seeing the way Rex bounced against him with that much yearning had him practically seeing stars.
Rex didn’t realize how close he was until he felt Jordan gripping his hips and erratically fucking him. There was something undeniably sexy about seeing Mr. High-Strung lose all his concerns and chase after that feeling like it was the last thing he’d do. Just as Jordan’s grinding began to settle, Rex felt his own warmth growing from the pit of his stomach.
He gripped himself hard and stroked only four times before he released, his mouth falling open and a steady stream of grunts spilling free. He finished on the thick comforter beneath them, something he’d worry about cleaning up in the morning. For now, his biggest concern was prolonging the pleasure that made his head spin like vertigo and every nerve in his body hypersensitive.
Jordan kissed the back of his neck and his shoulders as Rex came, his breath escaping in pants. Without even seeing the front of him, Jordan was certain Rex had never looked more attractive than this, consumed with euphoria and practically shivering in his pleasure’s aftershocks.
When the spike in Jordan’s adrenaline finally calmed down, he rolled onto his back and pressed close to Rex, draping an arm over his chest. “That was okay, right?”
“That was perfect.”
Jordan smiled with satisfaction, finally able to relax. Anxiety was a friend he couldn’t quite shake in any other instance, but it was particularly bad when it was time for him to perform. Knowing he’d given Rex what he needed was a cough drop down a sore throat.
For a long time, the two of them lay together, staring up at the ceiling as the sound of cars passed by the windows. Rex usually found the noise comforting, especially when it followed a nightly orgasm, but tonight it didn’t do the trick. Everything was perfect, from the temperature of the room to the way Jordan’s body felt pressed against his, but it all felt wrong. Like he was undeserving of it, like he’d cheated to win. It was an intrusive thought he couldn’t free himself of.
Even after Jordan eventually fell asleep and filled the room with the soft breaths of his dreams, Rex shifted uncomfortably, unable to force his eyes closed for very long without being haunted by the fight with his father. Their argument had left him rattled, and despite what he’d told Jordan on the way home, things weren’t fine.
Deep down, he knew that no matter how horrible his father had been in the past, Alan was right about one thing. He was a runner. He always had been, even as a kid listening to his parents greet each other via screaming matches. He ran to the library. He ran to Nana. It didn’t matter where he was going, so long as it was away from the mess he’d found himself in.
He’d run away from Sweet Rose, too.
This realization was like a metronome in his mind, never leaving him for more than a beat before returning to center stage. Frustrated with himself, he slipped out from under Jordan’s arm without waking him and headed to the bathroom. There, he flicked on the stark light and blinked at the harshness. His reflection looked as exhausted as he felt.
Confirming his father’s point yet again, Rex was hit with the same overwhelming urge to tur
n away. To look at something else so that he didn’t have to look himself in the eyes. This time, he refused. Rex gripped the edges of the porcelain sink and met his own gaze hard. He could walk the other direction from a lot of things, but not himself.
In staring at his own face, Rex identified the proverbial gnat flying around his head, buzzing incessantly. It wasn’t just that Alan’s assessment had been correct. It was that for the first time in his life, he wished he didn’t run. Rex couldn’t fool himself into thinking he was someone he wasn’t. He’d seen too many times before how trying to force things to work only led to heartbreak. He couldn’t force himself to stick around. One day, something would send him racing away from Sweet Rose the same way he’d left years before. The difference now was that he’d be leaving Jordan in his wake.
The thought made him feel sick unlike anything else had. He’d been around Jordan enough to know that the man was fragile. He protected himself with biting snark, but the truth was that his barbed wire was there to protect a heart that bruised far too easily. A means to keep himself safe from the heartlessness of any Sweet Rose suitors.
But he’d turned off the electric fence and let Rex in. He’d made the very mistake that caused him to put up the walls in the first place. Rex wouldn’t assume the best of himself. He couldn’t possibly do that, not given his history. He knew his limitations and knew what was feasible. Being the man that Jordan needed just wasn’t in his wheelhouse.
The thought made his eyes water, and he pressed his palms roughly against his face, stopping them. “Goddammit,” he hissed, holding his breath to try and contain his emotions. He didn’t do this anymore. He’d taught himself to keep it under wraps years ago, but the thought of Jordan being broken up because of him sent prickles of shame down his body and guilt bubbling up from his throat. It wasn’t right, and he knew it.
The knock at the door made him jump. “You okay in there?” Jordan asked. Rex counted down from five before he said,
“Yeah, I’m okay.”
The doorknob twisted, and Jordan appeared behind him in the mirror, wrapping his arms around his waist and dropping his chin on Rex’s shoulder. “Thought maybe you fell in or something,” he teased. Despite the nightmare of emotions shuddering inside of him, Rex smiled.
“Nope, just thinking.”
“Penny for your thoughts?”
“Nothing exciting.” Rex cleared his throat and turned back to Jordan, distracting him with a kiss. “C’mon. Let’s get back to bed.” He led Jordan out of the bathroom with his hands on his shoulders. When he reached back to flick off the light, he caught sight of himself in the mirror, and his forced smile faded.
Thirteen
Jordan didn’t get nervous often. Alright, so maybe that was a lie, and he did have a tendency to stress over even the smallest of details. He couldn’t help it. Anxiety was in his nature, and he rarely had the means to cope with it. Knowing himself, Jordan spent most of Saturday morning trying to think about anything else but the fact that Rex wasn’t answering his phone and he wasn’t texting him back.
He distracted himself with laundry, doing the dishes, and making sure the house was spotless for the meeting that was happening shortly. Busy work always cleared his head and kept him from going down a catastrophizing spiral that would leave him stressed for the rest of the morning. He even considered heading to the grocery store to try out a new recipe, like he did when things got too bad to handle, but it wasn’t to that point yet.
Every now and then, though, Jordan found himself wiping his hands and reaching for his cellphone to see if Rex had responded. It wasn’t like him to leave him hanging for this long. Usually, Rex had a message sent back before he could even put the phone down and do something else. That was how they’d gotten to know each other better in the middle of the night, back before Rex had become a regular member. He rarely got any sleep in when he and Rex started texting each other.
“Answer your phone, dummy,” Jordan muttered, tossing his cellphone onto the couch in irritation. Whatever, he thought. He had more important things to worry about, like what he was going to serve for the treat during the meeting. He scrolled through his favorite baking blog, Made with Love, and settled on an easy chocolate-vanilla swirl cupcake recipe. He already had all the ingredients, and if he timed it right, he’d have them baked and iced just before the rest of the club members arrived.
Try as he might to get his mind off of Rex, he found his thoughts drifting back to their dinner last weekend. While he combined the butter and sugar, he grimaced at some of the things his father had said, and when he placed colorful cupcake liners in the baking tray, he rocked back and forth on his heels at the thought of growing up with a man like that in his life.
His relationship with his parents hadn’t been the greatest, but they were never as strained as Rex, Amy, and Alan. Even at their worst, his folks still respected him enough not to talk to him the way Alan did. Hell, when he came out to Sherleen, she’d insulted his parents and him but had never crossed the line that far. She’d never gone far enough to permanently damage their relationships, and when she finally came around to acceptance, she put her all into making amends.
It felt foreign to be harboring so much antagonism to blood relatives, but Jordan didn’t want to assume. He didn’t know what it was like growing up with Alan. If he’d been anything like he was at the restaurant, Jordan was willing to bet that Rex’s resentment towards the man was more than warranted.
Jordan had just finished icing the last cupcake when there was the first knock at the door. He wiped his hands and hurried to answer it, internally sighing when he saw that it wasn’t Rex. Still, he met Charles with his usual enthusiasm, inviting him inside and keeping him entertained until the other members arrived.
“These look heavenly,” Gloria said once they were all settled in the living room and the cupcakes were situated in the middle of the coffee table. “Did you make these?”
“I did,” he smiled bashfully. “I made enough for everyone, but I don’t think Rex is going to be able to make it this week, so if someone wants to take a few home, I don’t think he’d mind too much.”
“Shame that he couldn’t make it,” Madeline said, glancing at Jordan with knowing eyes. Jordan was both amused with her teasing and disappointed from his absence. It pained him to say it, but since Rex had been around, Meet Cute Club had felt different. More exciting. They had a new perspective, from a guy who’d grown up hating these kinds of books but was now willing and eager to talk about them.
He was what they needed, a single spark to rekindle their burning love for the club, and without him, things felt off, like they were missing a key component. Even with being so new, Rex had come in and shaken up even the way Jordan saw the club.
“Well, let’s all get into it then, yeah?” He reached for his copy of the book they’d read, flipping through it. “So. That cliffhanger.”
“Ugh,” Madeline said, rolling her eyes. “I wish there had been a note or something in the front that said that this was a series! I was so looking forward to Darrek and Zane getting together and then bam, end of the book. The cliffhanger alone made me almost throw my Kindle across the room!”
“Those were my thoughts,” Charles said, nodding enthusiastically. “I want them to make it through this, but the way she ended that last chapter? I don’t know if there’s any way for them to repair the damage and fall in love again!”
The club dove headfirst into the conversation about the way the author had ended the first book in what was apparently going to be a series. He personally preferred to start series when they were finished, that way he could binge them all, but Gloria didn’t seem to mind that they’d have to wait for the next book.
“It gives me something to look forward to! People to root for, really,” she said, shrugging.
“I just don’t know how I feel about ending things so hopeless. I’m sure Krista will turn the story around in the next book, but I’m impatient,” Jordan said, pou
ting.
After the meeting, Jordan helped his friends pack up their treats in small plastic containers, chattering about what he wanted to make for the next meeting. They buzzed with possibilities, and it made him that much more excited for the following Saturday. Charles was the first to leave, quickly followed by Madeline. Gloria stayed back to talk about other books they could read for next month’s schedule, and he quickly wrote down the titles in his phone.
To his disappointment, there was still no message from Rex. Not even an explanation as to why he hadn’t shown up for Meet Cute Club.
“Everything okay, hon?” Gloria asked, lightly placing a hand on his forearm.
“Yeah, I’m fine!” He put on a bright smile and stuffed his phone into his pocket. “I’ll make sure to see if they have these books at Millerstone next week.”
“I’m so excited,” she said, giving a small happy dance. Jordan laughed and grabbed her coat from the rack for her. Jordan walked Gloria to the front door, giving her a wave as she headed out to her car. Movement drew his attention to the curb across the street. Rex sat on his motorcycle, propped up like he’d been waiting there for a minute. As Jordan approached, he climbed off the bike and let down the kickstand.
“You’re late,” Jordan noted. There was no animosity in his voice when he continued, “How dare you.”
“I wanted to come, but…” Rex’s sentence trailed off, and he looked away, his eyes following Gloria as she drove home.
“What’s wrong?” It was obvious whatever was on Rex’s mind was bothering him. Very rarely did he miss the chance to shoot back at Jordan’s light jests.
Rex pressed his lips together in a tight line before he looked back at Jordan. “I… I don’t know how to say it, so I’ll just say it. I’m not really into the club very much these days.”
“Shut up,” Jordan laughed, rolling his eyes. When Rex’s serious expression didn’t break into a grin like it always did when he was joking, Jordan’s face fell. “You’re for real?”