“Probably want to join in.”
Mitch burst with laughter, the sound reverberating around them. Austin laughed too and said, “I’m joking. You were right when you said I didn’t have a boyfriend.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
Austin squirmed under Mitch’s touch. “Haven’t found the right one yet.”
Austin leaned in and slid his muscular arms over Mitch’s shoulders. “How about you?” His baritone voice was rough with sex. “You have one?”
Mitch shook his head. “Why would I want to do that? If I had a boyfriend, I couldn’t be doing this.” He risked a kiss. Then another. “I’m so attracted to you.” They were only inches apart. “I feel like I know you. Like we’ve met before. This afternoon when you introduced yourself, I couldn’t shake that feeling.”
There was a moment of hesitation on Austin’s face, a change in his blue eyes. He inched back and relaxed his grip on Mitch. “I’d remember meeting you if I had. Most guys don’t look like you.”
Mitch lifted his brow. “I could say the same about you.”
Pushing against the water, Austin swam backward. A chilly wind raced over Mitch’s chest where Austin had been, making his nipples hard. “Something I said?” he asked, genuinely perplexed.
Making his way to the side of the pool, Austin exited the water like someone who spent many hours in a pool. His body was long and lean and virtually hairless.
He stood, water sluicing down him. “Sorry to have to cut this short, but I have an early day tomorrow.” He reached for the towel he had discarded on a nearby chair and pressed it against his face and chest. “Maybe some other time?”
“Sure.” Feeling jilted and his ego bruised, Mitch swam to the edge of the pool where Austin was standing. He placed his arms on the edge and gazed up at the man with the still-hard bulge in his trunks. “But let’s not leave it too long because I’m impatient by nature.”
Austin nodded, his sexy smile weakening. He trotted backward and said goodnight before heading up the stairs to the second story and his apartment.
His dick throbbing, Mitch mumbled, “Maybe the bars aren’t so bad after all.”
* * * *
What in the hell did you just do?
Austin stepped out of the shower, toweled off, and fell into bed. He hadn’t lied to Mitch. Not really. He did have to get up early. The next day, he started giving massages part-time at a gym he’d recently discovered. The clientele were mostly gay, had discretionary income, and Austin’s friend, who referred him, worked there exclusively because the pay and the tips were that good. Austin was sick of running around town, fighting traffic and hauling his equipment in and out of his Pathfinder just to give a massage to a client who expected a happy ending because he was in the privacy of his own home. He was a reputable massage therapist, not some pervert advertising on Craigslist and looking to turn a buck by a quick blow and jerk. Granted, some of the men were attractive, and Austin had been tempted once or twice, but once he started down that path, his clientele would be the men who found their massages through Craigslist. Not a decent way to make a living.
Frustrated, Austin kicked away the sheets and punched his pillow. The central air-conditioning had been working overtime in the intense heat lately, and he was on the verge of boiling over. Combing his fingers through his still damp hair, he exhaled hard, frustrated. But that wasn’t the only reason he was overheated.
Mitch.
Here Austin had the man in the palm of his hands, quite literally, and he choked. He’d obsessed over Mitch for more than a year while back in high school. To say that their encounter was an epic fail was the understatement of the century. At this very moment, Austin should have Mitch tangled around him, not his bed sheets. But when Mitch began to recognize him, Austin had known it would only be a matter of time before he’d figure out that Austin was that fat loser who skulked up and down the halls pining for Mitch’s attention, and was the same dork who sat three desks behind him in Calculus … salivating.
What a fucking joke.
And when Mitch finally connected the dots and made the realization that Austin Grey was that Austin Grey, Mitch’s hard-on would be replaced with a permanent case of limp dick and Austin would be back at his psychiatrist’s office on heavy rotation.
But what was he thinking when he came on all alpha male? Introducing himself like he was the sexiest stud on the block, handing Mitch his card, and finishing with “The number is my cell phone. Use it.” Did I really say that? He groaned into the quiet of the room, his body exhausted but his brain buzzing with nervous energy. He turned onto his side and gazed out his bedroom’s window at the stars in the night sky, wishing that he had Mitch cradled in his arms. He could have if he wasn’t so insecure. He reconsidered that psychiatrist heavy rotation thing. It probably wouldn’t be such a bad idea if he called for an appointment first thing the next morning.
Reaching down, he began to fondle his semihard cock. Since the pool episode, he’d been horny beyond belief but refused to jerk off in the shower. The hot water heater was anything but, and a fast jerk under tepid jets wouldn’t subdue the raging fire in his loins. Hard and getting harder by the second, Austin stroked with more pressure, reliving Mitch’s kiss.
I could’ve stayed in that kiss for eternity.
Breathing through his nose, he held the inhalation before blowing out completely, his body relaxing with every self-satisfying caress. Manipulating his heavy balls and paying special attention to the sensitive areas of the cockhead, Austin wondered what it would feel like to masturbate Mitch until eruption. Would he be silent, or would he be vocal? Would he give specific instruction or allow Austin to have his way? Rolling over onto his back, Austin stretched his spine and flexed his legs. A moan escaped his parted lips as he finished the stretch, relaxing into the mattress. He slid a hand up his abdomen to find his left nipple, his most sensitive, and took it between thumb and forefinger and pinched. Sparks of light pulsed behind half-closed lids. Thoughts of torturing Mitch’s nipples made him smile.
“I want you,” he said on a breathless sigh.
I need you.
And he could, Austin realized. If only he would allow himself to.
Stroking with singular intent, Austin flashed to Mitch’s large, strong hands fondling him under the water. It was quite the miracle he didn’t lose it and blow his load, then and there. Truth was, if Mitch had kept it up much longer, he would have. Overtaking him, a wave of passion slid over Austin like a cashmere blanket. It was intense but gradual, enveloping him in mind-shattering relief. Mews and cries filled Austin’s ears as his juice arched onto his taut abdomen, landing with warmth and weight. Austin writhed against his mattress, toes curling. His heart hammered away in his ribs, and he could feel every muscle in his neck pull and strain. Forcing out the last remaining drops of cum, Austin dropped his hand onto his stomach and wiped the slick liquid over his skin, massaging gently. After regaining the ability to breathe, and before he fell into a post orgasm slumber, he pulled himself off the bed and headed for the shower for a quick rinse-off.
Tomorrow he would try harder to leave his demons behind. Mitch wanted him, and Austin wanted Mitch. It was really that simple. So why was he making it so damn complicated?
Chapter Four
Mitch showered, shaved, and dressed for an eight-hour shift at IGNITE. When he took the job at the gym, he’d wondered if it would interfere with his workouts, but it hadn’t. If anything, it helped with his routine, getting free advice from the personal training staff was helping him step up his game. The pay wasn’t great, but the view and the salacious gossip made up for it.
Tucking his gym bag behind the counter where he scanned in the attractive clientele, Mitch greeted a coworker who filled his IGNITE T-shirt in all the right places. Through a fist bump, Daniel’s perfect smile said it all, that Daniel was Mitch’s for the taking if he’d only ask.
“How’s the new crib?” the brawny blond asked.
�
��Disorganized but good.”
“When can I expect an invite?”
“Tonight, after work, we’re having a few guys around. Nothing big.”
“What should I bring?”
“Speedos and a twelve pack.”
“How about just the twelve pack?”
Mitch chuckled. “I don’t want to get evicted after only two days.” He pointed a finger of warning at Daniel’s smirking face. “Speedos, and your own towel. I don’t want to be left doing a ton of laundry after your hung-over ass vacates the premises.”
“Message heard loud and clear.” Daniel picked up his phone and began to scroll, getting down to business. “We have a new guy starting today. Massage therapist. Starts in just a few so I thought you could show him the massage room and make him feel welcome.” Daniel raised his gaze and looked at Mitch. “But remember to be professional, or at least shut the door.” He waggled his thick eyebrows. “The dude is hot. Smokin’ hot.”
“I think I can handle it.”
“What part? Being professional or closing the door?”
Mitch answered with a playful grin and shake of the head. “You really are a piece of work.”
“A one of a kind,” Daniel said before walking into the mass of sweating muscle on the gym floor.
After checking in several clients with the obligatory small talk, he peered out the glass front of IGNITE to see Austin walking across the parking lot toward the entrance. He was dressed entirely in white, appearing clinical. Mitch thought it was an odd choice of outfit to hit the StairMaster in, but it beat the pastel-colored terry knit short shorts reminiscent of the late seventies some of the more flamboyant guys were sporting lately. Pretending to appear busy, Mitch shuffled a stack of papers on the desk in front of him, but his clumsy hands knocked them to the floor instead. Chastising himself and yelling Get a grip! He bent to retrieve them before Austin walked in.
“You need some help with that?”
Mitch heard that smooth baritone voice, the same voice that infiltrated his dreams the previous night and caused the massive wet spot in his underwear that morning. He attempted to swallow the instant lump of lust that formed in his throat. He stood and turned to look into Austin’s ice blue eyes surrounded by thick platinum lashes. His heart skipped a few beats as the papers he held in his left hand floated back down to the floor.
“Umm,” Mitch started but stopped to clear his throat.
“You feeling okay?”
He yelled at his inner self again. “Yep. Great.”
“I didn’t know you worked here,” Austin said. “Today is my first day.”
Mitch put two and two together, realizing the massage therapist he was asked to show around was Austin. Reaching over the desk, Mitch proffered his hand. “Let me be the first to welcome you to IGNITE.”
Austin took his hand and shook. “Thanks.”
Even the way he said “thanks” made Mitch hard. They parted hands, but their gaze continued to linger. “I–I–I’m supposed to show you your room,” he finally managed to say.
“Should I follow you?”
Normally, Mitch was smooth with guys, controlled and charming. But for some reason, he was tongue-tied and awkward around Austin. A part of him wanted to abandon his efforts of ever scoring Austin and save the huge hit his ego would no doubt receive when he was rejected for being such a dork-ass wuss, but he’d never felt that sting before so he willed away the doubting voices circling in his head.
“Yes,” he answered, mustering his signature sexy smile.
They walked to the back of the vast gym without speaking, passing sweat-soaked, muscle-pumped bodies grunting loudly against the heavy weights clenched in a tight grip. Upon reaching the already partly open door, Mitch stepped through the space.
“You’re able to lock the door so no one can take a look at the hunk du jour you’ll be working over.” Mitch pointed at the lock on the door handle. “I’m sure you can figure it out.”
Austin grunted in response and looked around the room.
Mitch continued, “You handle your own schedule more or less so feel free to use the computer in the reception area where we were just at. And before I forget, you get a twenty-percent discount on all drinks, protein shakes, T-shirts.” He shrugged. “Whatever.”
“Sounds good.” Austin pointed at a cabinet that resembled a high-end modern locker painted in a red lacquer gloss at the far end of the room. “That’s where the towels are kept?”
Mitch nodded. “You’re responsible for the lotion and all other stuff.”
Austin walked around the comfortable surroundings, sizing it up, then turned and looked at Mitchell. “Would you like to be the first to break in the room?” He arched a brow. “On the house.”
Mitch’s jaw hung slack. “Uhhh…” He swallowed. “Can’t while I’m working, but thanks.”
“Maybe some other time?”
“Yes, but I insist on paying. You have rent to cover, and I know it isn’t cheap living at Banana Court.”
“I always offer friends and coworkers a free first massage so they can promote me. It’s been my policy since the beginning.”
“How long have you been a massage therapist?” Mitch asked, genuinely interested.
“Around a year and a half, give or take a month.”
“Right out of school then. You’re around my age, right?”
“Year older.”
“I don’t remember telling you my age. How’d you know?”
“Guess,” Austin said. “I’m good at guessing people’s ages.”
“What else are you good at?” Mitch couldn’t help it.
Austin chuckled, and his cheeks reddened. “Are you flirting with me?”
“I’m not good at guessing ages, but I am good at flirting.”
“You’re a confident man.” Austin cocked his head, and his eyes glimmered in the softly lit room.
“I try to be.”
“I like that.”
Their gaze lingered until interrupted by a knock on the doorframe behind them. “Hello, Austin,” greeted Daniel. “Sorry to butt in, Mitch, but there’s a rush out here, and I could use your help. The Zumba class starts in five, and the natives are getting restless.”
“Sure thing,” Mitch answered, then Daniel disappeared as quickly as he appeared.
“I have to—”
“Go,” Austin said, breaking their gaze. “I’ll make myself at home and get set up.”
Mitch turned to leave but stopped short, turning back. “One thing, please keep the burning candles to a minimum. IGNITE is underinsured and I’d hate for this place to go up in flames. It all goes back to that paying-the-rent and eating thing.” Mitch turned then stopped again, but this time on impulse rather than a sense of duty. “My roommate and I are having a party tonight. Few guys. Nothing crazy. I’d like it if you’d stop by.”
“Sounds like fun.” The lips Mitch intended on kissing curled seductively, warming him from head to toe. “What can I bring?” Austin asked.
“Yourself.” Mitch raised his chin. “And the right attitude.”
Chapter Five
“I am so stoked, bro,” Josh shouted to his friend over the thumping bass beats of Rihanna pulsing on the iPhone stereo station speakers, a cold beer clutched in his hands.
Sharing in his friend’s enthusiasm and grooving along, Mitch reached into the refrigerator for a bottled beer. He twisted off the cap and gulped half of the cool liquid while still standing with the door open. He didn’t care if he was wasting electricity because he was the one paying the bills, not his parents. There was no one shouting “Close the refrigerator door!” loudly.
Pulling the bottle from his lips, Mitch decided to reach in for another because he had the feeling that this one would be drained by the time he changed out of his sweaty running clothes and into a white tank, board shorts, and well-worn flip-flops.
Their party that night was casual dress, and secretly he wanted the party to be clothing optional, o
r better yet, none at all, which Mitch figured would eventually happen as the alcohol poured and the night progressed. It usually did.
Butterflies swirled in his gut as he wondered if Austin would show. There was already a crowd gathering at the pool and a few hanging with Josh and Isaac in the living room, playing cards and dancing in their seats. Isaac, aka “Brains,” hit the grocery store earlier, jamming his Volkswagen Bug full of every chip imaginable and every dip the store offered, knowing his two best friends never had enough food on hand when they decided to throw a party.
Isaac had always been the smart one of Mitch’s friends, earning a scholarship to the local community college after having the second highest grade point average that graduating year. They were unlikely friends; Isaac wasn’t into playing sports, but he was completely and totally cool—Adam Levine cool—and Mitch and Josh had liked him immediately when he strutted into Calculus sophomore year, full of bravado and a unique ability to fit in with any group in school—jocks, the high achievers, nerds, the highly spirited, stoners, and everyone else in between. That year, his first at Palmer Ranch High, Isaac became Brains, and there was no turning back. He even had the moniker, given by Mitch, tattooed high across his back in black sailor-style script, he was that proud of his new name.
Mitch gazed at his friend, unable to keep a straight face as Brains won yet another round of seven-card stud, winning back whatever he’d spent at the grocery store.
“This is rigged!” Josh shouted and stomped his feet. “No one can be this lucky.”
Mitch burst with laughter. “This is Brains we’re talking about, after all.”
Josh swatted playfully—once, twice—at Brains’s gel-coiffed, dark hair, hardly mussing a strand. “You’re right, Mitch. The little fucker is a virtual prince. Loved by all including me. He’d have to be lucky to deserve that.”
Brains puckered his lips and made kissing noises into the air. “Thanks, dude, but you still owe me fifty from last week and another ten from this game.”
The Boys of Banana Court: Box Set Page 3