Surprise Delivery

by D. J. Jamison

  When he’d returned and buttered a piece of bread for each of them, they each settled into the meal, eating quietly until Casper asked the question Eric had been expecting since he walked in the door.

  “So, why cook for me?” he asked. “It’s great, by the way. I love Italian, even if it’s not exotic. But I was expecting something more active.”

  Eric could think of a thing or two that required more activity. He looked up, letting his thoughts show in his eyes.

  “There are ways to have fun that don’t include climbing buildings or jumping into lakes.”

  “Like buying Amish-made cribs?” Casper teased.

  Eric pushed his plate back and stood. Casper sat back and watched as he rounded the table and stopped next to him.

  “That would be one way to go,” he said as he eased down to his knees in front of Casper. “Blowing you would be another.”

  Eric put his hand on Casper’s thigh and slid it up his inseam until his thumb rested against Casper’s balls.

  “That’s direct.”

  Casper sounded surprised, but Eric wasn’t sure why. He’d kissed Casper first on the rooftop. He’d been the one to fall apart under his touch in the nursery. And he’d been eager, sexually free in a way he couldn’t ever remember when Casper pushed him against that tree and played his body like an instrument.

  Perhaps it was because he’d been tentative in those situations. Because he let Casper take the lead. But he’d learned by now that you didn’t always get what you wanted by dropping hints. So, yes, he was direct.

  “You’re a lot of fun,” he said. “You make me see the world in a whole new way. I’m no good at games, though, so I’m just putting it out there. I want you.”

  ***

  Casper looked down at Eric, and his cock got hard. The stuffy hospital administrator was on his knees, staring at the bulge in Casper’s pants as if it were nirvana. That was heady stuff. What guy didn’t want to hear the words, I want you?

  Even before Eric had shown up at his office with Olivia, Casper had watched Eric watch him in the hospital corridors. He’d thought then that Eric didn’t approve of him in some way, he looked so stern. Even so, Casper had found himself intrigued by the reserved man. He’d wanted to break him out of his shell, teach him how to unclench a little. He wasn’t lying when he’d told Eric he was a challenge he couldn’t resist.

  It was all leading up to this, wasn’t it? Steamy hot sex with a buttoned-up guy who was incredibly sexy when he let down his guard.

  Eric licked his lips nervously. “We’re both consenting adults, and I’ve expended all my flirting skill, what little there was of it. I just want—”

  Casper covered Eric’s lips with his fingers. “The answer, if there was a question in there, is yes.”

  Eric pulled Casper’s hand from his mouth and pressed it to his chest. “You mean I didn’t blow it?”

  Casper grinned and sat back in his chair, widening his legs a little. “No, you didn’t blow it.”

  He glanced down pointedly at the bulge in his jeans, where his cock was painfully constricted by the material. He’d been half-hard since he watched Eric bend over to check the lasagna. The man had a fine ass.

  Casper wasn’t one to deny himself the pleasures in life — and what man turned down a blow job anyway? They’d always been heading toward this, even if it wasn’t the wisest decision. Eric had a fair amount of power at the hospital where Casper needed privileges, and Eric’s niece was his patient. But the time to let that stop him had come and gone.

  Eric tugged open his jeans, and Casper groaned in relief. All doubts, weak as they were, fled instantly when Eric mouthed the head of his cock, still confined behind the cotton of his boxer briefs. His breath caught in his chest as pleasure flared.

  He squirmed in his seat, eager to have Eric’s wet mouth on bare skin. Unable to remain passive under Eric’s teasing nuzzle to his balls, he gripped the man’s hair and tugged his head up. Casper folded at the waist, kissing Eric hard on the mouth.

  “Show me what you can do,” he said, then sat back and pulled out his cock. He stroked its length, enjoying Eric’s hungry gaze following his movements. He used his hand to guide the tip it to Eric’s lips.

  Eric flicked his tongue out, circling the head.

  “That’s it,” Casper said encouragingly, resisting the urge to thrust. His thighs flexed with the strain to not buck his hips, and his abs quivered. “Come on, I need more.”

  Eric wrapped his lips around Casper’s cock and slowly took him in. He used his tongue, stroking it on the underside of his shaft. And his hands, rolling Casper’s balls. Eric bobbed his head, adding more suction.

  It was so good Casper felt himself disappearing into the pleasure, all awareness centered in the sensations Eric created in his cock and balls. His fingers curled in Eric’s hair, anchoring himself when his body wanted to fly apart.

  Casper got laid plenty. It was easy to meet women, and while Ashe was no mecca of gay men, he’d used apps to meet and hook up with guys in the surrounding area. There were some closet cases in town, as well as some country boys who pretended they weren’t gay, just horny. And then there was Wichita, about an hour away. Casper wasn’t hurting for male partners, but they were all strangers.

  This felt different. Eric was becoming a friend, and he was taking his time — actually enjoying Casper’s cock instead of trying to get him off as quickly as possible. When Casper felt the tension mounting in his body, Eric eased up, helping him ride the edge.

  He began to feel desperate to come. Desperate to touch Eric too. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore.

  Casper tightened his grip on Eric’s hair. “Make me come,” he ordered.

  He took a chance and thrust his hips up, pushing his cock deeper into Eric’s mouth. When he didn’t object, he thrust again, fucking Eric’s mouth as Eric tightened the suction and unleashed spirals of pleasure with his tongue.

  Casper reached the precipice, his body drawing tight, before a free fall into orgasm. He shoved Eric back, shouting harshly as his cock slipped from Eric’s mouth, and he came messily over Eric’s pale button-down shirt.

  He stared at the streaks on Eric’s shirt, at his puffy lips, at his bright eyes and flushed skin. There was nothing reserved about the man now. He looked sexy and debauched, a porn star dressed up like an executive.

  He leaned forward and kissed him. “That was incredible.”

  Eric blushed. Actually blushed.

  Then he kissed the tip of Casper’s cock and tucked it carefully back inside his jeans. Casper stood, pulling Eric into his arms for a long, deep kiss. He dropped a hand, massaging Eric through his pants, drinking in his moans, until headlights flashed through the window.

  Eric moved to look outside. “Olivia’s home early,” he said regretfully. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize to me,” Casper said with a grin. “I got my pleasure, but I’ll have to give you an IOU for next time.”

  Eric laughed, blushing again. “I got plenty of pleasure from it, too. Don’t worry about that.”

  “Good. So, I’ll call you,” Casper said, as Eric pulled free of his arms. Then he gestured to Eric’s shirt, still streaked with his come. “You might want to change.”

  Eric looked down and cursed loudly before he rushed off to his bedroom. Casper took his leave, opening the door just as Olivia reached the porch.

  “Dr. Rollins,” she said in surprise, then smiled impishly. “Making house calls now, huh?”

  He shook a finger at her. “Be good. I just came by to talk with your uncle.”

  “Mm-hmm. Sure, you did.”

  He laughed, neither confirming nor denying, and went to his car. He was pretty sure this thing with Eric was a recipe for disaster. He didn’t have the first clue how Eric felt about what they were doing, whether he thought they were friends who hooked up or two people building to something more long-lasting, and Casper owed it to him to explain it could only be temporary.

&n
bsp; For some reason, he found himself reluctant to tell Eric about Kage. To open the door to ending things when they were just heating up. But he had to tread carefully. He hadn’t made Eric any promises, so he wasn’t leading him on.

  Not yet.

  Sometime soon, he’d have to find a way to make sure they were on the same page. That they agreed this was fun, but that it had an expiration date. Olivia would bring home a baby, and Eric would have other priorities. And Casper would go on as he always had, with a few fond memories and his love for Kage to sustain him.

  Chapter Twelve

  When Eric called him to see about getting together again, Casper made a flimsy excuse that he already had plans. He didn’t have plans. He had a desperate need for perspective. Ever since that crazy-good blow job, he’d thought of little else other than getting his hands on Eric, and that scared the hell out of him.

  Despite his family’s ongoing concerns about his love life, Casper dated. He dated a lot, even. He just didn’t get attached. Sometimes he had one-night stands, and sometimes he dated a woman — like Chel, his ex — for a month or two, but it never moved beyond casual. They saw each other on weekends, they had some fun and some sex, and they didn’t become enmeshed in each other’s lives.

  So far, his relationship with Eric wasn’t following that same trajectory. He was entangled with Eric’s life before the first date. The hospital connected them; Olivia connected them. It was impossible to remain removed from Eric’s life. And there was one other major exception: He was thinking about Eric. A hell of a lot. The chemistry between them was explosive, and while Casper had experienced good sex with several people, it had never felt as natural with anyone other than Kage.

  Feeling guilty about the lie, Casper decided to make his statement true. He texted one of his buddies he’d met during a particularly crazy phase when he’d taken up drag racing. It wasn’t anything as glorious as Hollywood made it seem. A group of racing and car enthusiasts in the area met on quiet country roads to set up the races. Generally, they were far enough from town and pass-through traffic to avoid any legal trouble, but they also moved locations every race and kept the info on a need-to-know basis.

  Reg was happy to hook him up, and Casper arrived just as they were setting up the blockades. By parking several cars across the dirt road on either end of the race, they prevented any unsuspecting motorists from driving into the race by accident. As a doctor, he’d cringed the first time someone told him about the drag races. He’d imagined fiery crashes and people recklessly endangering their lives, but it was far less dangerous than he’d expected.

  Two cars raced at a time, so there weren’t any big pileups like can happen on a racetrack cluttered with cars. Accidents did happen. He’d seen a car clip another, sending it into a spin. He’d seen a driver slide into the ditch on a curve. But most of the time, the accidents were minor.

  Soon after Kage’s death, Casper had been desperate to get out of his own head, so despite his reservations, he’d tried racing. Back then, he would’ve tried anything — with the exception of drugs and alcohol — to escape his thoughts. A shot of adrenaline was as good as any drug.

  And the first time he’d done it, he’d felt so much closer to Kage. He’d remembered the thrill of climbing the water tower with him when they were young, the elated buzz of bungee jumping with him just before his surgery. Kage hadn’t been well, but he’d wanted to experience it before losing part of his leg. It was partly what inspired Casper to engage in the occasional extreme sport or daring adventure to honor his boyfriend.

  Now, in the countryside south of Ashe, Casper drifted among the spectators, pausing to fist bump and high-five a few of the people in the crowd he’d seen over the years. He didn’t race anymore. He’d never risk his Tesla for a short-lived thrill, and after a while, the racing had grown less exciting.

  But he’d made friends with the racing crowd. Even dated Chel, a mechanic whose father and brother raced regularly. She and Casper had hit it off right away, being a couple of free-spirited types. At the races, he was not Dr. Casper Rollins; he was Ghost, a nickname from childhood that he used when he wanted to be more like Kage: uninhibited and daring.

  After a few casual dates and hook-ups, Casper had quickly realized Chel was looking for something long-term. He’d disentangled himself as politely as he could, then made himself scarce from the races. That was eight weeks ago.

  “Ghost, where you been?” Reg called. “Long time, no see.”

  Reg was a regular racing fan, but he never drove himself. He said his eyesight wasn’t up to it, even with contacts. He was in his fifties, Casper thought, but Reg was also one of those guys who looked like he’d lived too hard. Leathery skin from the sun, deep wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. He could look older than his age. His dark hair was drawn back into a scraggly ponytail poked through his ball cap.

  Casper made his way over and stood beside him, watching as the two cars lined up at the starting line. They looked like clunkers with car bodies from the nineties, but Casper knew better. A lot of these guys modified their engines to get more speed. They poured a lot of money into their hobby. Another reason Casper had stopped racing; he had the money, but not the time or passion to invest in winning.

  “Been busy,” he answered vaguely, putting out his fist for a bump. “How about you?”

  “Good,” he said. “Your girl has moved on, though. She’s all hooked up with Chuck, and I reckon it might stick this time.”

  “Good for her,” Casper said, with a small flush of relief. “She deserves a good guy.”

  “And that ain’t you?”

  Casper shrugged. “I’m no prize.”

  Reg snorted. “You’re full of it, man. We all know you must be some rich shit or something, turning up and disappearing how you do. Not to mention all that diving, surfing, mountain climbing shit you do. That must be expensive. I bet you’re a businessman, flying off for meetings or something, huh? Chel missed the jackpot.”

  Casper laughed. “Not even.”

  “A millionaire hiding in our midst,” Reg said now with a playful grin.

  “Hell no. These fuckers spend as much on their cars as I do on one of those trips,” he argued. “Why do you think I didn’t stick with driving?”

  “No time for it,” Reg said.

  “True, but it’s not a cheap hobby either,” he said. “I just liked it for the rush it gave me, but after a while, that faded. It became normal. Boring.”

  “Oooh,” Reg exclaimed and slapped his thigh with a laugh. “Don’t let Chuck hear you calling it boring. He thinks drag racing is the shit.” He spoke out of the side of his mouth. “I think he pictures that scene from Grease every time he climbs behind the wheel.”

  Casper snorted with amusement. He’d pictured that scene a time or two himself, but the reality of drag racing on Kansas country roads was that there were no pink slips exchanged, just a few friendly bets.

  The car engines revved, drowning out conversation, and they turned to watch the cars take off. There’d be four or five races before the night was over, and Casper made conversation with Reg and a few others as he watched them play out.

  Just being there, with the smell of oil and dust mingling in the air, relaxed him. The loud engines, some overly loud due to modifications, drowned out his vague worries about Eric.

  At the end of the final race, the night sky just on the edge of full darkness, Reg punched Casper’s shoulder. “You gotta come out with us tonight! It’s been too long.”

  Casper agreed. They might be an odd crew of friends who didn’t know the real him, but they knew a side of him few others did. It was nice to disappear into his identity of merely Ghost, adrenaline junkie, with none of the baggage of his personal life along for the ride.

  They went to a little bar the drivers (and local bikers) favored called Shooters. It had four pool tables, hence the name, a short bar that seated five, and some scattered, flimsy tables that they probably had to replace after every bar bra
wl. Casper was dead certain they’d seen a few with the rough-around-the-edges crowd they drew.

  A group of drivers and entourage pushed a couple of tables together, and they all sat down. Casper kept to beer because he knew himself well enough to know he didn’t handle the hard stuff well. Now that he was away from the buzz of the racing, he felt too mellow and thoughts of Eric returned.

  Not doubts, but reckless desires. A burn flushed through him every time he visualized Eric on his knees with Casper’s dick in his mouth. Why had he avoided a sexy man with a hard-on for him? It seemed ridiculous now that he’d had some time to clear his head.

  Casper shifted in his seat, turning when Chel hung over the back of his chair and kissed his cheek. Her long, dark hair fell like a curtain that screened them from Chuck. “Hey baby, thought you were hiding from me.”

  He laughed lightly, sinking into his persona. Hanging with this crowd was almost like slipping on another skin. It allowed him to escape being Casper for a while. “Why would I hide from a gorgeous woman like you?”

  “Good question,” she said, straightening up. “I wondered the same thing. Figured you were afraid I’d try to put a ring on it,” she said with a wink.

  “I got no problem with a cock ring,” he said with a straight face. “Sign me up.”

  The table busted out laughing, and she swatted the back of his head.

  Chuck wrapped a beefy arm around Chel’s waist and tugged her onto his lap. “Chel’s with me now, Ghost, so don’t go getting any ideas,” he rumbled in his low voice. Chuck wasn’t at all Casper’s type, but the man had a goddamn awesome voice that could raise goosebumps.

  “Oh, I’m sure he’s moved on,” Chel said. “Ain’t that right?”

  He shrugged. This crowd was fun for a night here or there, but Casper didn’t confide in them. They didn’t know he was a doctor, much less that he was bisexual.