“Nothing. Just looking.”
The two ridges between those fabulous eyebrows were back, as Sandy formed his words carefully -- like he was drunk, or drugged. “Why did you stop?”
“Because it looked like you weren’t enjoying it. You were so tense, and you didn’t answer when I said your name.”
“It was fine. You can do anything you want.”
Another area that Alex had never really taken his eyes off was Sandy’s cock and it quivered as Sandy spoke, still hard and full, small droplets of semen bubbling up from its tip. Maybe he wanted Alex to touch him? Alex couldn’t tell. Usually people told him exactly what they required, what they expected from him. This was difficult, trying to divine what someone wanted without words.
“Anything? But what do you want? Do you want me to touch your cock? Should I stroke you?”
Spreading his arms a bit, as though offering surrender, Sandy closed his eyes and settled more deeply into the mattress. “Whatever you want to do, Alex. Anything… nothing. It’s up to you.”
A dozen ideas popped into Alex’s head, each one crazier than the last. Anything! Anything? That was too much freedom for any one person to handle. Too much responsibility. How could he possibly know what was okay with Sandy? What was acceptable and what was off limits?
He couldn’t.
“Sandy, tell me what to do. What do you like? What would you like me to do to you?”
“Alex—” Sandy held out his hands, palms up. He seemed to expect something, so Alex placed his own hands in Sandy’s. “I’ll like almost anything you do, so what do you want to do?”
Alex gazed down at Sandy, his mind suddenly a blank. “I don’t know. All of a sudden I can’t think.”
Curling his fingers inside Alex’s, Sandy gave him an encouraging smile. “Can’t think of anything at all? What about touching? I thought you wanted to touch my dick.”
“Oh. Yeah, that’s right, I did. May I?”
Sandy’s smile became a shaky grin. “You want to play ‘Mother, may I?’ You definitely may.”
The way the tension had been building, Sandy’s remark drew a snort from Alex. “Don’t make me laugh. I haven’t thought of that game in years.” Sandy just smiled back at him, cock full and weeping, body obviously humming, but doing nothing about it. “Okay, if that’s how you want to play it.”
Alex touched the sensitive head, running one finger around the flattened tip. Eyelids half-closed in pleasure, Sandy sucked in a breath, his belly tightening with the movement.
“Sandy, I’m going to put a hand on your dick. Is that okay?”
Sandy nodded affirmatively in a short, jerky movement, his gaze focused on Alex’s hand as Alex moved it down the shaft and wrapped his fingers around Sandy’s cock. Pausing to admire the view, Alex studied Sandy’s ruddy brown cock, held in a cocoon of Alex’s own making.
Nice.
He liked it.
Alex’s gaze wandered down to Sandy’s balls, drawn up tight against his body, only the smallest amount of hair on them. As a matter of fact, now that Alex thought about it, besides what was on his head, Sandy had almost no body hair.
“What about…? Can I touch your balls?”
Smile long gone, replaced now by a distant, unfocused look, Sandy nodded briefly. Just a quick jerk of his head, really.
Still holding Sandy’s cock in one hand, Alex reached down to cradle Sandy’s balls with the other. So soft. Warm and velvety, Alex couldn’t get over the difference between what he felt while touching Sandy and everything else he’d felt in his life.
No, that wasn’t it at all. It couldn’t be the comparison to what he’d felt before, because he hadn’t felt before. The difference was that now he felt something, when before he’d forced his body to do what it had to, while he kept his feelings safely hidden away.
The little ball of warmth that had started in Alex’s chest had spread, so that now big chunks of him glowed, tingled, even. Cupping Sandy’s balls, Alex squeezed a little -- compressed the soft skin as he carefully pumped Sandy’s dick, until Sandy moaned and began rolling his head from one side to the other.
“Do you shave them? You don’t shave— No, that’s stupid. Forget I asked.”
“Oh, God, Alex. That’s…” The low, guttural moan that rumbled up from Sandy’s chest was the sexiest thing Alex had ever heard. He’d done the same thing dozens, maybe hundreds of times before, and never felt a thing himself. It seemed somehow disloyal in Alex’s mind to even think of those other times while he touched Sandy. It was exactly the same, but somehow it was nothing like any of the other times. Somehow, when Sandy groaned, Alex got a pleased little burst of pride in his chest
Lowering his head, Alex lapped delicately at Sandy’s dick, stroked it as he tasted Sandy’s essence and braced himself for the wave of revulsion that had been his unavoidable reaction for so long. Alex waited and, when it didn’t come, he sat back for a moment and just looked. Eyes screwed tightly shut, hands clutching fistfuls of the bed cover, neck straining as Sandy’s back arched, his entire body bowed up off the bed. Somehow, all of that rigid control gave Alex the courage to lower his head once again and take the length above his fist into his mouth.
The scent and taste remained reassuringly Sandy. It felt wrong to think of what he’d done back in his other life with dozens, hundreds, of nameless, faceless clients while he was touching Sandy, so Alex did his best to shove those thoughts aside and concentrate on Sandy. When he looked up the long expanse of Sandy’s amazing body and glimpsed the face of his friend, it was somehow all different. Alex wanted to give back to Sandy. The feeling of friendship that had begun to grow in him, from the time of that first conversation back at Nelly’s, changed everything.
Trying not to think too much, Alex concentrated on Sandy, on using his mouth the way he knew how to bring Sandy maximum pleasure. It was second nature to use his lips and tongue and hands together; to listen for the breathing to tell him when to speed up and when to slow down. Sandy was so quiet, though, it made the task that much more difficult.
“Alex, please… I want—”
Sandy’s voice, so guttural, tortured-sounding, startled Alex. What was he doing wrong? He’d been watching. What sign had he missed? “What? What did I do? I’ll stop.”
Head thrown back, hands still clenching the rough fabric of the bedcover, Sandy’s face gave nothing away and Alex began to panic.
“No, don’t stop. Fuck me. I want you to fuck me.”
Chapter 9
“This fucking sucks. I hate this shit.”
“No kidding? Then why’d you volunteer?” Sandy didn’t need to glance in Jimi Vilnius’ direction to know what he’d see if he did: curly mop of dark red hair, more freckles and teeth than sense. Regardless of the subject under discussion, he’d be smiling.
“Who volunteered? I was asleep.” Bitching and moaning, yet still smiling.
“Same thing. Next time don’t sleep through a planning meeting.”
“D’abu, this sucks. Do you know how many other things I’d rather be doing than checking the hull for flaws? I had plans.”
That remark drew a snort from Sandy. “Yeah, you and me both, pal. Work comes first, last and always. You know that.”
Vilnius finished pulling a black mesh skullcap over his hair, compressing its volume of waves and curls enough to fit under the exo-suit’s helmet, and began checking his pockets for supplies. He looked up as he tucked tubes of vacuum-setting epoxy into his pockets. Another flash of that toothy grin, its prominent canines reminding Sandy as always of a vampiric horse. “So, uh, I heard you got something going with Alex the bartender. Hey, I say good for you. You work too hard as it is and I hardly ever see you hook up.”
“So, you about ready? Where’s your glue gun?” He wasn’t about to discuss Alex with anyone, much less a greenie like Jimi Vilnius -- fifteen years Sandy’s junior and resident team flake. The kid took the hint and shut up, silently holding up one of the epoxy extruders they’d become al
l too familiar with since arriving on Doradus. “Okay, let’s hit it.”
The transition chambers to the maintenance areas were smaller, so the wait time was a fraction of the amount of time needed for the ship-to-station or station-to-ship transfers. Still, since the inter-suit voice link lines were routed through Doradus’ main communication system, Sandy didn’t like to use them for anything not strictly business. Which meant that chit chat with Vilnius was out and left Sandy alone with his thoughts, something he’d been avoiding.
If he could somehow limit himself to thinking about the good parts of the previous night, he’d be happy to let his thoughts run on a continuous loop. Sandy would gladly relive over and over lying naked on his bed with Alex’s hands and mouth on him. Even now, hours later, a ball of heat settled in Sandy’s belly and made his dick throb as he pictured Alex sitting astride him, running those hands up and down his torso. Clever fingers had flicked at his nipples, which even now tightened again at just the memory.
Sandy’d wondered briefly at the possibility of cardiac arrest when Alex had gone down on him. Jesus fuck, but the feeling defied all description. Too intense. Too exciting. Too damn good.
And over too quickly.
How in the hell had he allowed himself to be so stupid? Sandy could ask himself the same question from now ‘til eternity and never understand. He knew how skittish Alex was -- and who could blame the man? After the hell Alex had lived through, that he could still function, laugh, approximate a human being, was a miracle not many people could fully appreciate.
What kind of weak-willed individual had so little self-control that he’d let his mouth run away with him and say something as unbelievably, profoundly dumbass as Sandy had? What the hell had he been thinking? Who could blame Alex for freezing up the way he did? Sandy wanted to kick his own ass into next week.
“You okay?” Vilnius peered out from behind the clear visor of the exo-suit at him, freckles standing out starkly against pale skin.
“Yeah. Why?”
“I dunno. You made a weird sound -- like you were choking or something. Your suit okay?”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. Now he was freaking out the newbie. Get a grip on yourself, you fucking moron. “Suit’s great. Let’s just focus on the job, okay?”
“Yeah, sure thing.” Vilnius flinched and looked away.
Sandy shifted the glue gun he held from one hand to the other and back again. He turned it over and tried to read the serial number off the handle. Flicked the power switch on and off. On and off. Every time he let his hands fall idle, though, Alex’s face -- with its shock slowly replaced first by horror, then by a blank stare -- took shape in his mind’s eye.
Too bad he couldn’t take the glue gun and burn the memory out.
Even if he could, that still wouldn’t do anything for Alex. Alex would have to live with the memory of someone he trusted saying those things to him. “I like being with you, Sandy. I feel safe with you. I’m glad you’re my friend.” Some fucking friend.
The door slid open and he and Vilnius spent the better part of the next six hours tethered to long booms that swung out over the Vigilant, keeping the two of them from floating away into the black. Off balance and semi-nauseous, they crawled over the surface of the ship’s hull scanning for flaws caused by collisions with microscopic specks of dust traveling at interplanetary speeds, until they were numb with it. Simultaneously nerve wracking and mind-warpingly tedious -- like pouring over the roof of a house with a magnifying glass -- it had to be done. By the time they had to return the rented suits, Sandy had a headache from eye strain and his fingers could barely grip the epoxy gun enough to hang onto it.
When the two men finally peeled off the helmets, it took a conscious effort for Sandy to blink his eyes, so dry and caked from the oxygen-rich mix pumped through the exo-suit. He rolled his head and rubbed at the tendons, stiff from holding his neck so long in one position. “I’m getting too old for this shit. I gotta start leaving the glamorous work like this to you young Turks.”
Vilnius’ grin was back as he pulled off his mesh cap and shook his head. “Oh, come on. Yeah, okay, it was kind of a pain. But we’re done. I’m gonna grab a shower -- I know, a short one -- and something to eat. Unless Sarhaan or Kai has something else for me, Nas and I are going down to the Pike. You wanna come with?” This last was obviously an afterthought, strictly for the sake of sucking up to a more senior team member.
“No thanks. I’ve got things on board to take care of.”
“All right. Go, buddy.” The wicked slant of Vilnius’ smile told Sandy where the kid’s thoughts had immediately gone.
“I said some things, not someone.”
“Sure, sure. I believe you.” That ever-broadening grin belied the outward sincerity.
“Yeah, so … good job out there. Why don’t you take off? Go have some fun before we start maintenance on life support tomorrow and life gets glorious again.”
After parting ways with Vilnius, Sandy spent the walk back to his quarters ticking things off his mental to-do list and ignoring the quickening of his pulse. He had a thousand and one details to keep track of and the truth was he really couldn’t afford a distraction the magnitude Alex was turning out to be. After another night spent staring at the wall instead of sleeping in Alex’s arms, he was beat. The lack of sleep was accumulating and he hadn’t been kidding when he’d told Vilnius he needed to start delegating some tasks.
As it turned out, though, he could have saved himself the worry.
Alex was gone.
For all he’d told himself he’d been expecting it, Sandy still couldn’t help the lurch of disappointment when the door to his suite slid open and he saw the empty bed, not even Alex asleep in a chair. Nothing but an empty room, inhabited only by sterile furniture and a few remembrances of home, his note to Alex nowhere to be found.
Alex,
I have to work for a while, but I’ll be back as soon as I can. Can you stay?
Sandy
The answer to that was blindingly obvious, judging by the silence in Sandy’s quarters. Shit. He’d blown it with Alex and there was every possibility he wouldn’t get a second chance.
Damn it.
Sandy mentally kicked himself for the hundredth time and scrubbed both hands over his face. The headache had settled into a steady, pounding rhythm behind his eyes, beating in time with the mocking chant of ‘fuck me, fuck me, fuck me’ that wouldn’t stop circling in his brain.
Pinching the bridge of his nose gave him no relief, so Sandy tried pressing the heels of his hands into his eye sockets.
That helped a little.
He lowered his weary body into one of the oversized chairs he’d bought off a Euro transport ship that was getting out of the business, deciding if he couldn’t push the thoughts out of his head, he might as well wallow in the memories.
Maybe they needed a thorough airing before they’d agree to an exorcism.
Fuck.
He’d been stupid, sure -- but, come on. How long was he supposed to hold out?
He’d been naked. Alex had been touching him. Putting his mouth on Sandy’s dick, for God’s sake. It had been beyond good. It was his most cherished fantasy coming true. That beautiful, precious, one-of-a-kind face with those sweet, soulful eyes had been gazing down on Sandy with a look that said they found him beautiful, too.
Alex had run his hands up and down Sandy’s chest, he’d touched Sandy’s cock like it was holy; caressed it with his mouth like--
Oh, fuck, what did it matter now how Alex had touched him?
How out of his head with pleasure Sandy’d been didn’t make a bit of difference to Alex. Sandy’d begged Alex to fuck him and Alex had backed away like he’d had a beam rifle locked, loaded, and pointed at his head.
How was he supposed to come back from a fiasco like that?
***
“Hey Alex, hand me the knife?”
“Alex, I need two ales, a Milky Way martini, and an Idaho vodka, neat.”<
br />
“Hey, can somebody -- anybody -- get me a Chardonnay and a dirty martini? Please? C’mon, you guys are killing me here.”
Slapping the paring knife down on Teddy’s side of the prep area, Alex pulled the wine bottle from the cooler and poured a wineglass two-thirds full. Picking up the cocktail shaker he’d momentarily abandoned, Alex shook it steadily several times while he pulled a martini glass from the freezer and strained the contents of the shaker into the glass. “There ya go, hon.”
“You okay, Alex?”
Alex glanced over at Teddy, who seemed to be having no trouble keeping up with the evening rush. “Yeah, fine. You got a second? Grab me an Idaho?”
Off World 2: Sanctuary Page 10