by Rachel Kane
Usually by the point I was thinking of a relationship, I’d had a crush on a guy for a while. I don’t think I’d ever gone from hating somebody to being interested in them this quickly...or at all. I didn’t know how to picture what things would be like with Sergio. I was still a little worried I’d say the wrong thing, or he would, and we’d end up in a fight again. I didn’t want that to happen. I wanted...well. I’m not sure what I wanted. But standing here with him, silent, feeling the warmth of his arm around me, maybe that was enough for now.
If only I’d realized things could still go wrong. I don’t know what I would’ve done differently there on the beach, if I’d known just how things were going to go between us, but I would’ve done something. Anything, instead of just kissing him, slipping my hands around to his back, the way I did. I was so naive. But he was so warm, and he wanted me, and I wanted him, and the future, for just a moment, seemed like it might hold good things for us.
13
Sergio: The Day The Stuff Arrived
In the morning the call came, but it took me a second to find the hotel room phone. It was on the wrong side of the bed: No, wait. I was in the wrong bed. I looked beside me, and saw Marcus curled beside me, taking most of the blankets. I would have to reach over him to get to the phone. I propped myself up on my arm to try to reach it without pushing him. I didn’t want to wake him up.
During that brief moment as I stretched to get to it, I thought: Had we slept together? I was pretty sure we hadn’t. A day of sun and drinking and conflict had left Marcus wiped out, and honestly I was feeling pretty exhausted after the chainsaw work earlier that morning, and we’d gone up the room. I sure as hell didn’t remember getting in the same bed with him, though.
“Yes?” I whispered into the phone.
“Mr. Taylor, this is the front desk. I’m happy to tell you that your bags are here, sir.”
I sat straight up, knocking the phone onto Marcus, who grumbled and rolled onto his back. His morning hard-on stood tall, tenting the blankets.
“They’re here? All my stuff? Tools and everything?”
“I couldn’t say what was inside them sir, but there are several bags and two large crates. Shall I have them sent up to your room?”
“Yes! No, wait! The tools need to go down to the freezer. The clothes can come up here. Wait, one of the bags has--oh, hell, I’ll just come down there. Give me a few minutes.”
“Excellent, sir.”
I crawled back over Marcus to hang up the phone, stretching to try to reach the nightstand.
“Huh? What?” he asked, his eyes opening as my body arched over him. Startled, I dropped the phone handset and fell on him.
“Sorry,” I said.
He was still half-asleep, with a drowsy look of concern on his face. I think it was the concern that did it. Or maybe it was just the sight of his massive cock shrouded by blankets. Or my jubilation over finally getting my luggage.
I grabbed his cock. That woke him up. He gave me a confused smile. “What’s going on?”
“Celebrating. My luggage is downstairs.”
“Shouldn’t you...go get it?”
“Do you want me to stop?” I paused my stroking of his cock through the sheet.
“I didn’t say that.”
I pushed the blankets out of the way. “You went to bed entirely naked?”
He closed his eyes and put his head back on the pillow. “Sorry I didn’t ask to borrow some of your old-man PJs first.” Then he opened one eye. “What are you doing?”
“Jacking you off.”
“No, I know that. But what are you doing?”
“I thought you didn’t like talking about stuff.”
“I hate it. Feelings are stupid.”
I bent down and licked the head of his cock. “Then don’t worry about why.”
“You’ve been going on about your luggage since you got here...and now that it has arrived, you want to do this instead? Sergio, eventually we’ve got to talk about it.”
“Fine. We’ll have a great big conversation...after you fuck me.” I glanced up at him to see his reaction. I was pleased to see the eagerness in his eyes. He might have questions about what was going on between us emotionally, but there was no question about what he wanted to do. His hands on my arms, urging me up, I crawled up his body until we were face to face. I licked the tip of his nose.
“You’re sure about this?” he asked.
I was on top of him, and got his cock between my thighs. I squeezed it tight. “Got to celebrate getting my big package, by getting your big package?”
“Your awful sense of humor is another thing we’ve got to talk about,” he said, laughing. He twisted out from under me. I thought he was trying to get away, but no, he was reaching for the bag on the nightstand, where he kept his toothbrush and stuff. Out of the bag, he pulled out packets of lube, and a long, long strip of condom packets.
I raised an eyebrow.
“What?” he said. “Come on, like you didn’t pack some, just in case.”
“You’ve got like a hundred in that bag.”
“They were on sale. Do you want to do this, or do you want to talk about my budgeting skills?”
“Budgeting, definitely,” I said, nuzzling him just under his jaw.
Then it was on. With a playful growl, he pushed me over on the bed, clambering on top of me, his muscles outmatching mine in his show of strength. But I wasn’t putting up a fight when he pulled my underwear off and dropped it over the side of the bed, nor when he began licking my shaft and balls. I got my knees far apart, letting him go as low as he wanted, licking and nibbling the skin. It almost tickled; I could feel it in my belly, and I closed my eyes and laughed. I shivered and went quiet at the sensation as his tongue went between my cheeks. My whole concentration centered on his mouth and what it was doing to me.
My knuckles brushed his forehead as I gripped my cock, squeezing it as he licked me. I uttered a soft groan. Finally though he was ready for me. He ripped open a condom packet and rolled the rubber down his thick shaft. He squeezed lube onto his fingers, and introduced them slowly into my ass. I clamped down on his fingers, pushing, letting myself get finger-fucked, feeling the pleasure spread throughout my lower body. But fingers weren’t good enough. I got my ankles around his back and pressed him towards me, wordlessly beckoning him onward.
I felt his fat cockhead press against my ass, felt his slow entry into me. He was being careful, and as much as I wanted him to simply plunge in, I was grateful for his consideration; it had been a while since I had done this, and I don’t think I’d ever dated anyone with a cock this thick.
“Can I admit, I’m a little bit scared?” I whispered to him.
Blowing him was one thing; I felt like I had control there. But getting fucked by that monster dick was...daunting.
He understood this. His hands moved smoothly down my flanks. “I’ll go slow,” he said.
I could imagine he’d been cautioned by many men in the past to take it easy with that thing. That thought caused a flare of jealousy that sent heat all down my arms into my fingers. I didn’t want anyone else touching him, not in the past, not in the future. As his cock slid slowly into me, I was overcome by this possessive desire that he should be mine. The clearest statement I’d allowed myself yet, that I really wanted him.
“You’re mine,” I whispered. Maybe it was so softly he couldn’t hear me, or maybe his touch grew even more gentle at that point, I couldn’t say. He was concentrating on being careful. I didn’t want to scare him off with mid-fuck conversations about relationships and commitments. But I wanted him so badly, all to myself.
There wasn’t much room for thought after that. As he got his entire length into me, there was no room for anything but reacting to his cock, and I gasped, my head rolling on the bed. I didn’t know what to do with it. I squeezed my muscles around it, felt invaded and powerless in the best way. He was still going slowly, gradually pulling halfway out before returning to
me, and all I could do was take it. I got my legs further around him, tried to get him even closer. He pushed all the way in.
My eyes had been closed, so I could focus on the pleasure, but I couldn’t do that forever. I had to look at him. I opened them, to take him all in, the sight of his shoulders, the way his chest heaved as he labored over me. Sweat beaded on his brow and between his pecs. His thrusts sped up, as we left behind all the gentleness and care. I watched his face, the way he bit the side of his lip. I raised my hand to touch his shoulder, to feel the heat off his neck, the way the sweat dripped down.
I could tell he wasn’t going to last. I pulled him down on top of me. His heat radiated in waves, the sweet, salty scent of him reaching me as I buried my face in his neck. He was pounding me hard, was deep in concentration, and I urged him on, whimpering at the pleasure as his cock seemed to grow even thicker inside me.
He groaned then, and shoved up into me hard. My arms and legs were around him, and my ass clamped down, feeling his orgasm thunder through him. Gradually he slowed, panting, until finally he rolled off of me. His cock popped out, the condom wrinkled and full of his cum.
“Oh, god,” he muttered.
“I know,” I said. “Do it again.”
He laughed quietly. “I don’t think I can. Maybe not for hours. You took it all out of me.”
I kissed him, first on his sweaty, stubbled cheek, then on his lips. “If I didn’t need to get my luggage, then I’d take my turn.”
“Oh, do you owe me one?” He looked up at me as I crawled off the bed.
I stretched. I felt like I could barely walk, and yet my body felt...good. Relaxed. Glowing and happy, in a way it hadn’t felt in a long, long time.
“I’ll use it as self-motivation,” I said. “If I can finish the sculpture today, my reward will be getting to take your ass.”
“Do I get a say in it?” asked Marcus, looking so bold and self-assured I wanted to smack him. But smack in a friendly way, you understand.
Ideally I would’ve had time for a long shower--or better yet, a lingering soak in the tub--but I didn’t want to try the patience of the desk staff downstairs. So it was a quick shower for me, and a quick goodbye kiss for Marcus--”Don’t get in any trouble while I’m gone,” I told him--then downstairs.
14
Marcus: Most Wanted
What just happened? I mean, I know the events--one minute I was comfortably sleeping in my nice warm bed, and the next minute I was fucking Sergio, and then I was all alone again.
But what was happening to my heart? I was sad that he was gone.
We should’ve talked last night. We had talked, a little. But not about the most important question, one that I couldn’t even figure out how to say without sounding sappy: Did we like each other?
It’s like every time I wanted to ask him that, we’d get interrupted by someone. Or by fucking.
Well, no more interruptions. I’d run downstairs to help with his luggage and tools, and we’d hash this out.
As I showered, I was actually excited. He wanted me. I knew it. I just needed him to say it. To confess that this was more than a tropical fling between two erstwhile enemies. I chuckled to myself. “Confess.” Like I was accusing him of a crime. The crime of liking me. Hell, it had gotten plenty of other guys in trouble before.
I took a minute getting dressed. What do you wear when you want to tell someone you want to be their boyfriend? My usual t-shirts and shorts didn’t really seem appropriate. I glanced over at Sergio’s closet. There you go. Dress for success. I dug through his stuff until I found a shirt that fit me, soft gray linen with short sleeves; it was a little snug around the shoulders, but that was okay. I also stole some of his pants. I was this close to grabbing some of his shoes, but I don’t know, that seemed too personal. So I pulled on my sneakers.
He wasn’t at the front desk. “You’ve missed him by just minutes,” said the clerk. “We have a few people carrying his bags up to his room. He insisted on moving his crates himself.”
So he was headed to the freezer. No problem.
Well, one problem. As I was leaving the lobby, I was hailed from the hall. I turned to see who was calling me.
“Oh. Hello, Hunter.”
Hunter was in a bright blue suit with a yellow shirt, his collar open, showing a silver chain around his neck. His pocket square looked like he was carrying around a canary.
“You’re just the man I wanted to see,” he told me.
“This isn’t going to be about Josh, is it? Because I told you last night--”
“No, no. That’s old news. We have parted ways, Josh and I, under the best of terms. No, the reason I wanted to see you is, I heard a bit of bad news about you.”
I waited impatiently for him to say what the news was, but when he just looked at me expectantly I said, “Well?”
“A little bird tells me that you’ve lost your job.”
“It’s not exactly news. I think everybody knows about it.”
“But it’s sad, don’t you think, Marcus?” He gave me a wet-eyed look of concern, and put his hand on my shoulder. “What are you going to do, when you get home? Do you have plans?”
His hand squeezed a little too tightly, like he was trying to measure how much muscle I had. Like he might get a little thrill if I flexed.
I recognized that soft tone of voice all too well. The minute he took his hand off me, I began moving back down the hall. He followed.
“I’m a waiter,” I said. “I’ll find something else. There’s always some new restaurant in Oceanside. And tourist season isn’t that far off.”
Of course, it was months away, and lately there hadn’t been a lot of new restaurants opening, and I was trying my best to hide from worries about the future, but Hunter didn’t need to know all that.
“I just think it’s a shame that a promising young man such as yourself should find himself out on the street,” he said.
The problem with the resort was it was too damn big. It was a long walk to the freezer. I hoped Hunter wasn’t intending to walk the whole way with me.
I wanted to ask why he thought it was any of his business...but I didn’t want to start anything with him. The last thing I needed was to get on his bad side. Then the gossip would really fly. Hunter was definitely bad news, and set off all my Rich Manipulative Guy alarms.
“I’m sure I won’t be on the street,” I said. “I’ve got a place to live. I’ve got friends to help.”
“Who, like Nat and Owen? Dear, they’re going absolutely broke financing this wedding. Did you know they are using every penny of the money from their television show, to bring us all together here?”
“I hadn’t heard that,” I said. I didn’t really want to hear him gossiping about my friends, but if it kept him busy until I could find Sergio, maybe it would keep him from saying anything truly embarrassing to me.
“And I hope you haven’t set your sights on Sergio. We all saw how you left with him last night. Very loyal of you. Strategic, as well.”
As I stepped into one of the ballrooms that served as a shortcut to the kitchens and then to the freezers, I frowned. “Strategic?”
“I can understand your thinking. Handsome man like that, clearly from great wealth. But not the sort of man you are looking for, I can assure you.”
“I don’t have any strategy for Sergio.”
“Darling child, who are you talking to? I’ve made millions off the wealthy men of Oceanside. I can read their psyches as well as I can read a contract. I’m not saying you have planned to get your hooks into Sergio, but I’m willing to bet you’ve thought about it. And I’m warning you off, for your own safety.”
God, how could I shake this guy? I was going to have to be firm. I actually wanted to pop him one, but I wasn’t going to do that. Probably. I’d felt too violent on this damned vacation already.
“Hunter, I’m not trying to get my hooks into anyone. Thus, this conversation probably isn’t going to go anywhere productive.
” See? Productive. I was being nice.
“He’s an artist. He’s flighty. To hear Harris tell it, Sergio is nothing but a bag of tears and anguish.”
“I’m not really interested in hearing how Harris tells it,” I said. At the same time, I was a little shocked. It was one thing for people to drag me through the mud...but Sergio? Wasn’t he one of them?
“You need someone who can offer you more stability than Sergio. Someone can fund your endeavors without expecting you to babysit their moods.”
Fund my endeavors. Had this been the kind of talk he’d put Josh through? Suddenly I had the urge to go find Josh and start a support group.
“At least you’re being straightforward,” I said. I hoped my tone was sarcastic enough to get my point across.
We were out of the ballroom now, and going through the corridor that passed the kitchen. The freezer was in sight. One of them had crates next to the door. My heart gave a little jump. Sergio must be there!
“I believe in honesty. I know I’m not as handsome as the men you’re used to,” Hunter said. “Nor am I interested much in culture and popular entertainment. But I need company.”
I started to say, Have you tried acting like a human being, but was fortunately interrupted by Sergio.
“Hey! There you are!” he said to me, clearly happy to see me, although looking puzzled at Hunter’s presence.
“Well, nice talking to you,” I said to Hunter. “I’ve got to help Sergio with his sculpture.”
Sergio looked like he was about to protest, but I shot him a look. He nodded. “Lots of work to do to get ready,” he said.
Hunter looked at the two of us. “Hm. Very well. Lovely to speak to you again, Marcus. Hope to see you soon. Give it some thought.”
We were quiet until Hunter had left the corridor.
“Do I even want to know what you’re supposed to give thought to?” Sergio asked quietly.