Then he remembered Trask’s words and a slow smile crossed his lips. He was going to blow Trask’s mind and stake a claim on him that Trask would remember for the rest of his life. “Mmmm.” Felipe clenched around Trask’s cock with a breathy moan. He crouched over him as Trask’s eyes widened.
“I think I’m in trouble.” Trask slid his arms around Felipe and tried to roll them both over, but Felipe clamped his thighs around Trask’s hips.
“So true, Tin Man.” Felipe ground back against him, taking control and feeling a little thrill as Trask let him. He rode him with hard thrusts that had Trask groaning. His hands skimmed over Felipe’s body in an exploring caress.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” Trask lifted up on his arm and fisted his hand in Felipe’s hair, not too rough, but just fucking right. And then his hot mouth was on Felipe’s neck and Felipe moaned. He leaned into him, looking for that right angle, and cried out when he found it. Yes, right there. He clenched around Trask, moving faster to Trask’s soft gasps. He was going to get that damn man to whimper if it killed him, and it just might.
Felipe bit his lip as Trask’s hot mouth moved lower. If he touched Felipe’s nipples again, he would come out of his skin. His lips were everywhere, branding Felipe’s skin, pushing the excitement higher. Trask lowered himself back on the bed with a strangled groan. He ran his fingers over Felipe’s cock and gave it a squeeze. “Touch yourself for me.”
Felipe met his dark-eyed gaze and saw the raw need, the burning heat. He sat back, his eyes locked with Trask as he rode him, feeling almost as if he had a fever beneath his skin. Under that gaze, he started at his neck and slowly stroked his hands over his body.
Trask’s lips parted on a moan. Close to the sound that Felipe wanted him to make, but not quite there. Biting his lip again, Felipe tugged on his nipples. Fuck, it felt good, not as good as Trask’s wicked mouth but good enough to make him clench around the man with a desperate groan. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he wasn’t going to make it.
Then Trask captured his hand and brought it down to Felipe’s straining cock. “Right there, touch yourself. Let me watch.”
Trask was a little bit of a voyeur. Felipe tucked that little tidbit of information away. He would definitely revisit that later. Felipe fisted his cock, his head falling back with a desperate groan. “Aw fuck.” He ground back on Trask’s cock, his body tensing. Trask grabbed his hips, bracing himself as he thrust and climaxed, a strangled note dying in his throat.
Close enough, Felipe thought, crying out sharply as his orgasm rolled through him in a long continuous wave. He rode the hot spikes of pleasure as Trask made that delicious sound again, and Felipe felt the hard throb of his cock as he came.
Felipe draped himself over Trask with a long sigh, boneless and sated. Score one for both of them.
Chapter Fourteen
TRASK STARED up at the ceiling, still wrapped around the wild man in his arms as he tried to catch his breath. He wasn’t entirely sure if he could keep up with Felipe, but damn, he wanted to try. Felipe might love dogs, but he was a hunting cat in bed. A sleekly muscled jaguar ready to pounce, and his prey stood no chance once he was in his sights. As if he heard Trask’s thoughts, Felipe rubbed against him with a purr and nipped his chest. “I’m hungry. Are you hungry?”
Not waiting for an answer, Felipe clambered out of bed and strolled naked out of the bedroom. Trask paused long enough to pull on his underwear before following. He found Felipe in the dim light of the kitchen, perusing the contents of the fridge with pursed lips.
“You are completely comfortable in your own skin, aren’t you?” Trask asked with a soft laugh as he washed his hands. He wasn’t used to that. He often seemed to end up with someone who was fragile beneath the surface, their identity and worth caught up in how someone else viewed them. Felipe was a refreshing change. “You’re not just feigning confidence.”
Felipe looked over his shoulder and twerked his taut, naked ass. “What’s there not to be confident about? I’ll admit I do bitch about the state of my thighs, but that’s because I either went on a comfort food binge or because I feel like preening when my current boyfriend assures me how awesome they are.”
Trask eyeballed Felipe’s smoothly muscled thighs. “They are pretty spectacular, even when they’re gripping the life out of me.”
Felipe gave him a Cheshire smile and leaned over to rummage around. “I have some lumpia we could heat up, some beans and rice, but I think that’s the limit on my vegetarian food up here. I misjudged the contents of my fridge. I was too busy thinking of getting you naked.” Felipe took a bite of something and shook his head. “Nope, this lumpia has meat. Damn, you’re missing out. My lola can cook.”
He hip-checked the door shut. “It’s not late. There are plenty of restaurants in town, or I can raid the fridge downstairs. They’ve got to have something.”
Trask did not want to get Felipe in trouble with his neighbors. “Let’s head into town. And you can tell me what happened at the con that got you so excited earlier.” Trask liked the idea of lounging around with Felipe half-naked as they talked the night away. “We can bring it back and pick up where we left off.”
Felipe’s eyes gleamed. “I like the way you think.” He bounded into the bedroom and shrugged into a hoodie and a pair of jeans as Trask got dressed. “Brenden seems to have chilled now I’m not boning Dakota anymore.” He rolled his eyes with a grimace. “Morris has this crazy theory that he was so bent out of shape over us because Brenden wants to lick that particular lollipop.”
Trask laughed softly. He would never get used to the way Felipe phrased things, and he hoped he never did. “I have wondered about them a time or two myself.” Trask sat on the edge of the bed and tugged on his boots. “Nothing ever niggled you the wrong way when you and Dakota were a thing?”
“To be honest I never got how they were even friends. Brenden and Dakota are always arguing. If one says it’s night, the other insists it’s day.” Felipe ran a hand through his tousled dark hair. “Though it used to piss me off that Brenden could call and ask for something and whatever plans Dakota and I had were forgotten.”
Something in Felipe’s tone made Trask wonder if he still had feelings for Dakota. “You ever think you two might hook up again?” Trask asked casually as Felipe searched the floor for a pair of socks.
“Fuck no.” Felipe’s tone was adamant. “I have zero interest in poking that stick again. If Brenden didn’t kill me and stuff me in a vendor storage crate, I’d stab Dakota to death with my sewing shears the first time he tried to fob me off with some bullshit about plans changing. Besides, we get along better as friends. I don’t miss him as a boyfriend. I just don’t like feeling used.”
Trask made a mental note not to ever break a date with Felipe unless he had a very compelling reason. “I’m glad you’re not yearning for someone else. I’m too old to engage in a duel for you.”
“You’re not old.” Felipe popped back up with his socks in hand and smirked. “You’re well aged, like a good cheese or wine.”
“Ouch.” Trask clutched his chest. “I’m not sure if that’s praise or not.”
Felipe’s eyes twinkled with a teasing light.
“How about you? Any exes lingering around that I can give narrow-eyed death glares to?” Felipe finished getting dressed and grabbed his keys and wallet out of the open bedside drawer.
“Nope, last boyfriend moved to Atlanta.” He’d asked Trask to go with him, but Trask couldn’t see uprooting himself. Which was a sad commentary on their tepid romance. It had been nice and easy with no depth to it at all. Saying goodbye had not been a hardship on either side. Relationships shouldn’t be like that. They should have depth and meaning. That one had just been a slow decay.
“Good to know.” Felipe caught Trask’s hand and pulled him up. “Back to what I was saying, Brenden in his newfound Zen asked me to cover for a missing panelist. Then to put cream cheese icing on the red velvet cake, he asked me and Abby to head up some cos
play ideas and panels for the big con he plans on doing in Annapolis next year.”
Trask had heard scuttlebutt about that. He’d been wavering on going. Tables would be expensive, and it was far enough away that he’d have to get a hotel and budget for meals. He did have enough stock in his offsite storage that he could cut prices and make a killing if people were in a buying mood. With big cons, it could be hit or miss. It depended on the number of vendors and the variety. He’d hit up Brenden and feel him out before committing. He should do that soon or else the exhibitor tables would sell out.
“That’s awesome, Felipe. What ideas do you have?” he asked as he followed Felipe back out into the living room. He sought out Sophie to see what she’d gotten into while he was occupied. Lady and the puppy had curled up, snoring, in an old, worn dog bed.
“Well, I really opened a whole ball of possible awesome trouble.” Felipe grimaced as he opened the door. “Brenden shoved Abby and me together. She’s a kickass cosplayer who I’ve warred with since elementary school. I got it into my crazy-assed head that we should work together on more than just the panels. And because it’s me, I blurted it out before thinking it through.”
Trask trailed Felipe and paused to let himself get adjusted to the darkness outside. Felipe ignored the fact there was no way he could possibly see the stairs and clattered down them at an alarming rate. “What kind of work?” he asked as he followed more slowly.
“We both make costumes for others on the side, and we both have a pretty good following online.” Felipe waited for him on the back patio. Trask had an impression of a long set of glass doors leading to the main part of the house and wondered how many apartments it had been cut up into. “I think if we work together, in a few years it might be something we can make a living off of. I’ve been taking business classes because I’d really like to do it full-time. What do you think? You started your own business.”
“You do really good work,” Trask said after a moment of thought. “And your attention to detail shows. When you go to a con, you are your own walking advertisement.”
Felipe walked backward, his attention on Trask’s face. How the hell he kept from tripping and falling on his ass, Trask didn’t know. “I sense a but in there.”
“Not exactly, except I would consider your prices. If you charge what your time is worth coupled with how long it takes you to make one of the more intricate costumes, you won’t find too many who can afford you. So that’s not a way to make a steady living wage. And you have to consider that this sudden upsurge in outside interest for geek culture might not last. So you need to be adaptable. Have you considered avenues of revenue other than cosplay?”
Felipe was quiet as they walked to his car. “The Ren Faire has been a staple in Crownsville for like forty years now. There are people who would pay sweet money for an elaborate costume.”
“I wasn’t paying too much attention to the vendors when we went.” Trask opened the car door for him. “As I recall, don’t they have several costume stores?”
“They do, and other vendors offer a good number of accessories, but every time I go, I manage to give away cards and get commissions. Like you said, I’m a walking advertisement, and I do my research. I have a shit-ton of books on historical fashions.” Felipe rested his arm across the top of the car as he continued to lay out his thoughts. “It’s something to build on. Some seasons I’ve even been a part of one of the acting troupes. I could always take con season off August through October next year and use it to promote at the Faire if Abby and I haven’t dismembered each other yet. Then there’s the costume design for the Port Tobacco Players. It’s our local theater group, but that’s really more on a volunteer basis. Still, you never know what it could bring.”
Felipe slid behind the wheel, and Trask considered his words as he moved around the car to the passenger’s side. He’d clearly given this some thought. If Trask had had a quarter of his drive or foresight when he’d been Felipe’s age… well… no sense in looking back with what-ifs because he liked where he was right now just fine.
“You ever think of making small, quick objects that you can sell to supplement your income?” Trask asked as they were making their way back down the long, winding driveway. “Accessories, masks, things that people will want, that you can charge top price for while you’re working on bigger projects?”
“That’s a thought,” Felipe mused. “We could take pictures and post them online. We’ll have to think about it. That’s really projecting into the future. I figure if we’ve managed to find a way to work together in semiharmony by the time Brenden’s big con comes around, then we’ll have a real chance at doing this. If not, well, we tried and I’ll have to make sure she doesn’t steal all my business. How the fuck do you compete with dimples?”
Trask was at a loss for a response. “It’s a factor I’ve never had to deal with. For the most part, game and comic book store owners aren’t going to win any beauty pageants, and they definitely aren’t going to charm anyone. We rely on the fact that those who come in know what they want and have ready cash to burn. If I can discuss the games and storylines with them, I don’t need dimples.”
Now that Felipe mentioned it, Trask thought he remembered a long, lanky woman with deep-set dimples and Icelandic eyes dressed up at many of the cons. He’d always pictured her as some kind of Valkyrie warrior. “So how long has this rivalry gone on?” he asked as they hit the darkened highway. There sure wasn’t much out here in this part of Maryland. A few motels and a biker bar were all that Trask spied as they drove in. Felipe turned in the opposite direction of the bridge, and all Trask saw on either side of the highway were more trees.
“Since the first day we met. We both have serious competition issues and a mutual love of crafts. Our desire to share our projects with each other is offset by our need to outdo one another.” Felipe shook his head. “I’m trying to channel that into the thought if we team up together, we can demolish everyone else. That’s still competition.”
“So, what would be the next steps?” he asked, fascinated by Felipe’s vision. He loved the idea of taking a creative dream and running with it.
“We’re going to have a meeting online sometime next week. Safer there than in person.” Felipe’s teeth flashed in a wicked grin. “Discuss what projects we have lined up and see if we could help each other with any issues. Compare our online platforms and make some tentative plans for upcoming cosplay panels and convention opportunities.”
The lights of a decent-sized town appeared, and Felipe turned off into a strip mall tucked back away from the road. Through the wraparound window, Trask could see a packed pizzeria. “Do you think it could wind up getting ugly between you two?” Trask asked. “Sometimes working with your rival can lead to real tension, especially when you get hit with tight deadlines.”
“Nah,” Felipe said after careful thought. “If it didn’t get ugly in high school, I doubt it will now. The worst outcome I can see is one or both of us getting tired of the bickering and deciding to bail. Other than that disastrous first encounter in kindergarten, neither of us tried to sabotage each other. That one time was enough to teach us both how bad it could go if we went down that route. So we’ve contented ourselves with snark mostly and trying to win all the contests that we both enter.”
Frenemies since kindergarten, now that was a fucking hoot. Trask laughed. “One day you’re going to have to tell me that story.”
“I will,” Felipe promised as he parked. “Though I’m not sure what light it puts me in.”
“Oh, I’d imagine, a bit of a troublemaker with a sense of the wicked, more of a sense of fairness than you’d want to admit to, and quick on the defense.” Trask caught the flash of Felipe’s grin in the dim light. “How’d I do?”
“I think you’ve got me pegged, Tin Man. I’m not sure if I can say the same, but I’m working on it.” Felipe got out of his car and stretched, and once again he reminded Trask of a hunting cat. “They’ve got kickass pizza
here, fried ravioli that makes Morris weep, and pretty okay pasta. The perfect meal in between sex.”
After the last round, Trask definitely needed some fuel. “I’m curious, why Tin Man? Is it the silver?”
“Well that adds to the effect, but not why you make me think of the Tin Man,” Felipe said as they strolled toward the restaurant. “See the Tin Man thought he wasn’t capable of love, thought he didn’t have a heart, and never realized how much he was already giving the whole time. That’s the part I think you overlook, how much you give to others.” Felipe cocked his head and looked at Trask as if he worried he’d overstepped a boundary. “Not so much that you think you don’t have a heart. I think you’re afraid to admit how deeply you feel.”
Trask nodded slowly. “I think you might have me pretty well pegged too.” Trask couldn’t think of the last time he’d been with a man who both understood him and wasn’t put off by that. It made Trask less leery about offering more details about his past. It was taking another step deeper into this relationship, but the slow smile that crossed Felipe’s generous mouth erased all of Trask’s reservations.
“I like watching people interact,” Felipe admitted as Trask opened the door. “And not to sound stalkerish, but I’ve been watching you for a while. You’re just interesting.”
Trask chuckled as they stepped into the warmth and light of the restaurant. Felipe had to be the first man in a long time who thought he was interesting. And he suspected it wasn’t for the usual reasons. “I think I know the answer, but I have to ask. Interesting because of my mysterious and shady past?”
Felipe met his eyes and shook his head. “No, just for you.”
A little flustered, Trask examined the menu above the counter. This was a first in a long time, a guy having him in knots. It sure beat the alternative.
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