North Shore

Home > Other > North Shore > Page 18
North Shore Page 18

by Santino Hassell


  I beamed. “Good, because that shit legit just came to me, and I think I’m a genius. Let’s talk more about it after I fuck you.”

  “Talk over midnight post-sex dinner?” he asked hopefully, eager as ever for food.

  “When else would we have serious conversations about business ventures?”

  Charles smiled wider than I’d ever seen, and he looked so much younger and sweeter in that moment. It was like a light had been turned on inside of him.

  “I love how weird we are together,” he admitted softly. “How we made up all of these weird habits and traditions. It feels so real. So unique.”

  “We are unique. That’s why we make so much sense together.”

  It was probably the cockiest shit I’d ever said, and I was definitely feeding into the mindset so many of my Man-dated Attraction troupe members shared when it came to dating people who understood your art. But as pretentious as it sounded? It was true.

  North Shore, ch 17

  Chapter Seventeen

  Charles

  Marquis was everything I’d ever wanted in an entertainment manager. As soon as I’d slunk into his Williamsburg loft behind Luis—which was fifty-percent hardwood floors with mirrored walls and floor-to-ceiling windows—and laid eyes on his fabulously gay aesthetic, I’d felt tingly. It was very old Hollywood, with living spaces swathed in soft velvety fabrics, shimmering curtains, and gorgeous paintings of Marilyn Monroe, RuPaul, Lucy Lawless, and EJ Johnson.

  I wandered up to the enormous painting of EJ, hands to my mouth to hide my huge grin. “Oh my God. Where did you get this?”

  “I painted it,” Marquis said, smiling around his straw. Luis had suggested I bring him Starbucks to get brownie points. “Luis didn’t tell you about my many other talents?”

  My smile faltered, Marquis’ eyes twinkled, and Luis called from across the room, “Why’re you making it sound like you’ve sucked my dick?”

  Marquis snorted, and I relaxed. Holy hell, my jealousy gland was pulsing and we’d only been officially dating for two weeks. Two glorious weeks of dancing, sex, and sleeping in the same bed. And no word from Landon to ruin it.

  “As if I’d ever touch a sweaty jock like you,” Marquis drawled. “No thanks. I’ll stick to letting Gabe seduce me.”

  Luis quit raiding the racks of costumes in the far corner, and muttering and complaining about each one, before joining us near the wall of art. “Heeeey, is that why he’s leaving? Because you won’t screw him if he’s in the troupe?”

  Marquis gave him such a dull like that I couldn’t help but laugh. “Not everything is about sex, Louie. Now sit there, be buff, and let me talk to your honey.”

  Luis grinned broadly at the title and threw himself into one of the velvety sofas. He grabbed a zebra patterned pillow, buried his face in it, and watched me with warm brown eyes. I tried to focus on Marquis, but Luis was a nonstop distraction. The way he looked at me all the time…

  “This is gonna be pretty informal because I already know I want you based on your training and background,” Marquis said to me bluntly. “I’m glad you came in real dancewear unlike your man who thinks appropriate attire is baggy sweatpants, so we’re gonna do a few demos. I’ll show you one of Gabe’s pieces, and you perform it for me. Simple?”

  Luis had been practicing Gabe’s parts with me for the past couple of weeks, and it still sounded nerve wracking. Even so, I unzipped my hoody, tossed it at Luis, and gave Marquis one of my huge flashy smiles—the smile that helped me fake the kind of self-confidence I hadn’t felt in years.

  “Let’s do this.”

  He clapped, looking genuinely excited. “You better kill this shit, Chuck. I want you in my troupe.”

  No pressure or anything.

  The next hour or so was one of the most exhilarating stretches of time in my life since my shows and performances while at Julliard. We watched Gabe’s parts on Marquis’ 4K projector a couple of times, then I stood in the middle of his studio space and did my best to mirror the performance I’d just watched. I forgot about Marquis, about Luis, and even about the end game of this goal and focused on nothing but the beat of the music and the movement of my own body.

  We did the dances from Gabe’s Queer Agenda bit, his part in the new duet with Luis, and the political Rainbow Mafia performance which was basically an ode to resistance against intolerance with him leading the rest of the troupe in rainbow colored tactical gear. It wasn’t perfect, none of them were, but I tried to roll with my screw-ups while sweaty and full of adrenaline in a way that showed I was flexible and thought on my feet.

  By the time we were done, I was full of energy. I’d already felt like Luis had breathed life back into me, but the audition had me walking on fucking sunshine. I whipped wet hair out of my face after the final piece, smiling widely at having nailed something I hadn’t even practiced much.

  “That was un-be-fucking-lievable,” Marquis breathed. “Don’t tell him I said it, but you move better than Gabe. Doesn’t he, Louie?”

  We both looked over at Luis and found him slumped on the sofa with his gaze running all over me. He was biting his lower lip and so visibly turned on that my body heated in response. Considering I was already sweaty and exhausted, my insides became an inferno.

  “Oh Lord.” Marquis rolled his eyes. “Okay, love birds, we can finish up so you can go home and fuck—”

  “Can’t do that just yet,” Luis complained. “He has brunch with one of his pals.”

  “And you have to work at Male Revue later,” I countered. “Sooo… It’s not all on me.”

  “Work is money. Brunch is you spending money.”

  Marquis looked between us. “Are you really bickering because you have no time to fuck?”

  “Yes,” we both said, then grinned at each other.

  “Lovely. Seriously.” Marquis pointed between us slowly. “The chemistry between you two will be off the charts in Punch Drunk Louie Comes Out.”

  “Speaking of…” Luis pushed himself up off the couch and sauntered over me in his shredded jeans and oversized hoodie. He grabbed me from behind, uncaring about my sweat, and nuzzled the back of my neck. “He needs a name.”

  “Oh shit,” I said. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”

  “Mmm.” Marquis tapped his chin. “Chuckie Two-Timed.”

  My eyes just about popped out of my head, but Luis cracked up.

  “How the…” I looked at Luis dryly. “Seriously? You told him about that?”

  “It was before I knew we were gonna be a thing,” he said quickly, still snickering. “I swear to God.”

  “And Daddy Yankee?” I made a face. “You’re so lucky I like you.”

  “I think it’s a good name,” Marquis said. “Brilliant really. Not surprising considering I thought of it.”

  Good Lord. If the rest of the troupe had egos as big as these two fuckers, it was a good thing my general lack of confidence would potentially even things out. But I was getting ahead of myself. Luis’ happiness and optimist was so contagious that I’d started leaving the safety of pessimism behind.

  “Hold up,” I said. “I haven’t even been officially—”

  “Congrats.” Marquis wiggled his fingers at me. “It’s official! I want you. We can get the paperwork signed. There’s a contract that breaks everything down. And I hope Luis explained the money to you…”

  I managed to nod while practically vibrating with excitement. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stay still. Even with Luis attaching himself to my back, I was nearly bouncing in place or shifting from foot to foot.

  “We get a cut from whatever intake we get from each show after all fees are paid, which sometimes doesn’t amount to much?”

  Marquis winked. “It may start amounting to a little more, sugar tits. We’ll be at the Highline Ballroom this summer.”

  My jaw dropped, and Luis stood up straight behind me. “No shit?”

  “No. Fucking. Shit. Our show is moving on up, babies.” Marquis h
eld up his hand for a high-five and scowled when Luis smacked his hand so hard it echoed in the loft. “Savage.”

  “I really am.” Luis wrapped his arms around me, squeezing tight and lifting me up. He was jittery with excitement, just like me, and wasn’t deterred even when I elbowed him so he’d let me down. “I’m so fucking excited!”

  “I’m… honestly speechless, and that doesn’t happen a lot,” I said. “When do things start happening?”

  “As soon as possible. Gabe’s last show is next week, and we need you practicing. Come by the practice space first thing Monday, and we’ll get this thing rolling.” Marquis beamed at me. “Congrats, Chuckie. You’re soon to be officially Man-dated!”

  We said our goodbyes, and I walked out jittery with a mind full of racing thoughts. When you were the type of person to generally be shit out of luck at every attempt to get ahead in life, a streak of fortunate events tended to seem mad suspect. A few months ago, if I’d found a sweet guy who liked me, come up with a potentially feasible future business plan, and scored a spot in a popular dance troupe… I would have frozen in one spot and waited for my luck to run out. Or, on my worst days, I’d have given up on these ventures before attempting them. My traitor brain who fell victim to imposter syndrome would have told me there was no way I would succeed, or live up to expectations, so why try?

  But now? My heart was pounding out of my chest. I was squeezing Luis’ hand like a child on Christmas morning as we bypassed the freight elevator and headed for the stairs. Marquis lived on the top floor of an old factory, with long staircases between each floor. I was a bundle of energy and I needed something, anything, to work it out so I could think rationally.

  “You look so fucking happy,” Luis said, pulling me to a stop on the first landing. He scrutinized my expression. “Are you? For real. This isn’t, like, you being mad fake and your face got stuck?”

  “No. I’m legitimately in a great fucking mood.” I tried to school my expression to be serious, but a smile broke out again. “I probably look like an idiot, don’t I?”

  “Mmm… no, but you are cheesing pretty hard.”

  I smacked his shoulder. “Shut up. I’m just… I don’t know. I feel invincible all of a sudden? And it’s so fucking scary because everything always goes wrong, but I also feel like things have to be right because—” Self-preservation threw a life raft at my head to stop me completing that sentence. Unfortunately, it was Luis I was talking to, and he was never going to let me get away with not telling him everything that was on my mind.

  “Because what?”

  “Ugh. Why are you so persistent?”

  “Because I’m Luis.” He winked, then buried his hands in my hoodie and pulled me closer. “For real, what were you gonna say?”

  “Just that…” I spread my hands helplessly, searching for a way to say what I wanted to say without being over the top mushy. It wasn’t possible. And disgustingly enough? That didn’t stop me from blurting it out. Because it was Luis I was speaking to, and he was safe. “When I’m with you, I feel like nothing can go wrong. You’re my walking lucky charm. Or some shit.”

  Luis’ face softened. He took a step closer to me, then another, until I was standing against the railing with him pressed against me. “Don’t give me all the credit. I had the connection, but you had the chops. That audition was all you, lindo. And you were amazing. You were also so fucking hot that my dick was throbbing the entire time.” He pinned me to the wall until our bodies were crushed together and his lips brushing my own. “I don’t know how I’m ever gonna get through that duet without getting hard.”

  A breathless sigh escaped me as I thrust my hips against his. “Considering how hard you are from talking about it, I don’t think you’ll be able to stop yourself.”

  “Mmm.” Luis skimmed his eyes over me before briefly drawing my lower lip into his mouth. “Think the audience will be offended?”

  “By seeing the outline of your huge dick in your rainbow jock?” I grinned, slow and dirty, and rotated my hips. “I think they’d love it.”

  “But would you love it?” At my nod, he thrust his hips against me again. “What would you do about it?”

  “Suck your dick backstage,” I said, dropping my voice to a husky whisper. “And considering that cock is practically begging at the moment, I should probably do the same right now.”

  Luis’ eyebrows shot up. “What—here?”

  “Yes.” I reversed our positions and slammed him up against the wall. “Here.”

  That rakish grin, the one that used to infuriate me, appeared on his handsome face. He folded his hands behind his head, fingers threaded together, and leaned against the wall. “We’re on the top floor and Marquis isn’t going anywhere. I’m not stopping you.”

  My heartbeat tripled. A staircase blowjob shouldn’t have me questioning just how deep my feelings were for a guy, but here they were—doing just that. I’d never had this kind of easy relationship with anyone. It had never been this fun.

  I pressed a kiss to Luis’ lips, then his jaw, the hollow of his throat, and worked my way down. He stood admirably still, even when I descended to my knees and looked up at him through my wild hair. I knew he loved that look—the one that spelled out promises for what I would do once I had his dick out and in my hand. So far, it hadn’t gotten old. Every time I made the first move, he was as shocked as ever.

  “This is my favorite thing about you,” I mumbled, kissing along his happy trail. “This line of dark hair leading like a fucking arrow straight to your cock.”

  “I think that’s why God put it there.”

  This time, the look I shot him was withering, even as I tugged down the waistband of his sweatpants. “Do not bring religion into my cock sucking.”

  “Mmm.” Luis thrust his hips forward to rub his bulge against my face. “I love it when you talk about sucking me off. And I love how much you enjoy doing it.”

  One day I’d be able to respond to Luis without constantly comparing him to the previous asshole, but that day hadn’t yet arrived. So, I couldn’t help but flash back on my ex’s “teasing” about how much I’d liked sex and giving head. Teasing that had bordered on slut shaming. And there had never ever been a time when my enjoyment had mattered to him.

  “Take it out,” I said, kissing his abdomen and jutting hipbones. “Now.”

  He complied instantly, dropping one hand to pull down his sweats so they sat around his hips. He was wearing a jockstrap, something that got me unbelievable hot, but he tugged his dick out of it. I ran the tip of my tongue up the shaft, taking my time as his dick swelled thicker so the head pushed past the foreskin.

  I glanced at him once more, grinning at his dazed expression, then planted one hand behind me for support while gripping the thick base with the other. Just as I started to take him down my throat, he shook his head.

  “Hold up.”

  Pouting, I dropped my hands and expected him to back out. Instead, he edged around me, moving carefully with his pants around his hips, and gently nudged me so it was my back to the wall as I knelt before him. My heart accelerated, breathing coming out harshly, when Luis gave me another of those slow devilish smiles. I tried to think of something funny to say, or something bratty, but I was struck by his dark eyes.

  “You’re really beautiful,” I blurted.

  Luis blinked, startled, then laughed. “Hands up, Chuck.”

  I complied instantly, and crossed the backs of my wrists before pressing them against the wall. Still leering, he grabbed them both with one large hand and held me there, pinned and helpless against the wall. My dick was throbbing by then, my balls heavy.

  “Open your mouth,” he whispered.

  I did it with zero hesitation. He slid his thick length past my lips, and I never broke eye contact. When he began flexing his hips and thrusting into my mouth, I relaxed my throat so he could plunder it at his pleasure. Him taking what he wanted from me while gazing down at me with this a sense of wonder in his f
ace was incredibly hot. And when he used his free hand to brace heavily against the wall while barely swallowing deep groans, my dick pulsed.

  “So good at taking that dick,” he mumbled, pupils fully dilated. “I love watching those big lips stretch around me.”

  I hummed, and it came out wet sounding. He seemed to like it, because his eyes briefly rolled back before he fucked my mouth faster. I didn’t stop watching him. I was obsessed with his expression when he came, and how he sometimes unraveled and cried out so loud he seemed startled by it. We were heading in that direction now. I could tell by the way he bit down on his plump lower lip and began to hump my face urgently. The sound of his dick sliding in and out of my mouth was obscene in the quiet staircase. It fucking echoed, and I loved it. I loved how brutal he was using me while still being mindful of not making me choke.

  “Yeah, baby,” he hissed. “Gonna come.”

  I moaned again, loving the way he rode my face, and the sharp groan when he exploded in my mouth. It was a big load, big enough for some to slide down his shaft and get on my chin.

  “Clean that cock up,” he whispered, still fucking my mouth. “Yeah, lick it all, baby.”

  Even if I wasn’t in such a compliant mood, I’d have licked up every drop. I looked up at him while sucking him clean, finally ripping my arms free so I could grab his round ass cheeks and hold him in my mouth.

  “Fuuuuck, Charles.”

  I released him from my mouth. He looked starstruck and infatuated, and it was a fabulous look on him. My chest swelled. Warmth filled me and sent me surging to my feet so I could grab the back of his head and yank him into a kiss. He slanted his mouth, letting me lick into it, and moaned against me. We crashed back against the wall, locked in an embrace that made me want to rip my clothes off and have him fuck me right there. Or in a few minutes when his dick got hard again.

  “I can’t get enough of you,” he mumbled, kissing down the side of my face. “I just want to fuck you constantly.”

 

‹ Prev