by Tara Lain
“Hi, I’m interested in that ceramic wall art you were telling me about last weekend.”
He looked up at the customer and smiled as Gareth zipped his jeans over a now far softer cock. “Of course, let me show it to you. We just hung it there by the front window.” He patted Gareth on the head and walked over to his customer, the rubbing of his jeans reminding him of just how satisfied his dick could be. He pointed to the four integral pieces of ceramic that made up the wall hanging. “When you said you wanted something dimensional and abstract, I thought of this immediately.”
“Oh, it’s lovely.”
David bit his tongue to keep from laughing as Gareth crept from his spot behind the service desk into the back room. Come on. Pay attention to your customer. He smiled at the middle-aged lady with the happy brown eyes, but his glance caught movement out the window. Across the street in the antique shop, the sunlight glanced off brilliant blond hair. Short. Shiny. Shit. Was John Edgerton spying on them? If yes, how much had he seen?
Chapter Eight
DAVID LAY with his head on Gareth’s shoulder, the covers pulled over both of them. If he peeked under, he would also see two very limp cocks.
They had left the gallery, grabbed a bite to eat, and made a quick appearance at the pageant, long enough for David to do his scene, shower off the makeup, and run out the stage door. They’d barely made it to David’s living room before they started fucking. All day, David’s ass had been clenching with the thought of that big Aussie cock planted deep inside, bareback.
Just inside the front door, Gareth had turned David around, pushed him face-first against the door, and pulled down his jeans—no small feat considering they fit like a coat of paint. He’d magically produced some lube from a pocket, worked it into David’s hole until he cried out for more, and then rammed that cock up his tingling ass. It had taken fifteen minutes to get all his cum marks off the door. Then they’d moved to the bedroom, played a little while with touching and sucking, until David asked for a second round. Nice how twenty-two-year-olds could get it up at the mere thought of an available orifice.
But now it was late and they were both spent. At least for the time being.
Gareth ran his fingers gently over David’s thigh, making soft humming noises of contentment.
He didn’t want to ruin the mood, but the question wouldn’t go away. “So, when do you leave?”
“I’ve got five more days.”
God, five days. Would he really come back? “Will it take long to get a green card so you can go to UC?”
“Don’t need one.”
“Why, because America doesn’t have enough volleyball players?” David laughed.
“No, because I’m a US citizen.”
“What?” David sat up again, and this time Gareth sat up beside him.
“I was born here. My folks met in the States when my dad was assigned here by his company. They married and had me, then went back to Australia. I’ve lived my life there, but I have a US passport.”
“Well, son of a bitch. How can you play for Australia?”
“I have dual citizenship. Of course, when I come back, I’ll probably have to change volleyball teams.”
“But aren’t you likely to make the Olympics for Australia? Coming to the US would change that possibility a lot, I expect.”
“Yeah, probably would. But with Edge the way he is about me, we haven’t got much chance of winning anyway. I’ll have to find a new partner and start all over.”
David touched his face. “That’s a big sacrifice, Gareth.”
“No. I’ll get to be here, see my mom. I might make a short career doing pro volleyball, but it takes a lot of travel, and it’s not like basketball where you can make huge money. No, I expect I’ll spend life as a businessman, and I can be an openly gay businessman.”
“Don’t think for a minute that being gay in the US is that much better than Australia. It’s not. Laguna is a bit more hospitable.”
“I don’t think I have many illusions. But things are changing fast.” A small smile curved his pretty lips. “If I’m here, I get to see you. Even in Santa Barbara, I can visit… if you aren’t busy.”
David took a deep breath. “I know this is going to sound like I’m searching for commitment, but I need to say it. Even if you’re here, you’re really young. You’ve just come out. There are going to be hordes of guys dying to fuck you. I just happen to be the guy who was there when you decided enough was enough and opened the closet door. If you need to move on, I get it. We barely know each other. I want to see you every time you want to see me, but shit happens.”
Gareth touched his face with those callused fingertips. “Trying to weasel out, love?”
“No!” He swallowed. “Maybe a little.” He glanced at Gareth and smiled. “I guess I’m not the most trusting human.”
“You’ve had no reason to be. It’s easier to let me go than to worry if I’m going to leave.”
He smiled. “Well, shit, how did you get so smart?”
“Because I understand. But I’m making it my mission to prove I’m worth trusting. And maybe worth loving.”
David caught his breath. Gareth must have heard it because he smiled. “Yes, the L word. Too soon, I know. Still, keep it in the back of your mind.” He chuckled.
David swallowed. “What about Edge? You’ve got a lot of history. He’s a part of your identity.”
“Yeah, well, some of that identity is what I want to change.”
“Gareth.”
“Hmm?”
“I think I saw Edge across the street today, watching the gallery.”
“Yeh? That’s something he might do. Don’t worry. He really is harmless.”
“Seriously?”
“I know he looks like a badass, but he’s really a softy inside.” He pulled David close. “I don’t want to talk about him or think about him.”
I’VE LOST my bloody mind. Edge stared at the steering wheel of the rental car, glanced up at the low ranch house, then went back to his perusal of the dashboard. Oh balls, if I don’t go in, I’ll always wish I had.
He threw open the car door, and before he could change his mind, he stalked up to the front entrance and rang the bell. Footsteps got louder from the inside of the house, and then the door flew open. “Why did you ring—oh?” Carolyn Enders, Gareth’s mum, stared at him like she’d seen something scary.
He swallowed and plastered on a smile. “Hey, Carolyn.”
“Hello, Edge.”
“How’re you keeping yourself?” Sparkling conversation, you asshole.
“Well enough.” She frowned but said, “Do you want to come in?”
“That would be great, thanks.”
She stepped aside, and he crossed in front of her into a bright entry that led to an even brighter step-down living room. “Nice place.”
“Thank you. Can I get you some iced tea?”
“Uh, sure.”
She left the room, and he sucked in a huge breath. What in bloody hell do you think she’s going to tell you?
He faintly heard some clinking, like ice in a tumbler; then, with two glasses in hand, Carolyn walked back in. She never stopped frowning. After setting one tea on a coaster next to Edge, she sat opposite him on the couch and crossed her ankles. “What can I do for you?”
Right to the point. “I just wanted to say hello before I go back home.”
“Yes, we didn’t exactly get to visit when I was at the match, what with you running off and all.”
“Yeh. That’s right.”
“So please give your mother my regards.”
“I will.” He sipped his tea to fill the space. Shit, can’t think of what to say.
She sighed and didn’t even try to cover it. “Why did you come, Edge? What were you hoping to accomplish? You now know that Gareth is gay and you don’t approve. It appears to be more important to you than your friendship. That pisses me off royally, and I can’t see what we have to say to each other.”
He tried to keep the crease from between his eyebrows. It made him look mean. “I’m still his friend.”
“Forgive me, young man, but you have a strange way of showing it.”
“It just took me by surprise.”
“I can understand that. But to purposefully throw a game after the two of you worked so hard—that seems like an excessive amount of surprise. You punished yourself as much as Gareth. Your whole team, really.”
He stared at his hands. “He should’ve told me privately. That’s what a friend would have done. But instead, he paraded that f—that guy that he knew I didn’t like and made this big circus show out of announcing he’s a homo. It fucked me up, excuse the language.”
She looked at him kind of sideways. “I think you have a good point, but I doubt you’ve ever really given Gareth an opening to speak with you on such a personal level. I’ve heard the kind of garbage you and my ex-husband fling at anyone who’s a little different. I expect Gareth was too busy protecting himself to tell you the truth.” She sipped her tea. “But you’re right. He should have told you privately.”
“Yeh. And I shouldn’t have acted like an asshole.”
“That’s right. You shouldn’t.”
“So—uh, what about that guy? The one he brought to the tournament?”
“David? What about him?”
He shifted in his chair and downed a mouthful of tea. “So, he likes this guy?”
She almost smiled. “I think he likes him a lot.”
Edge’s arm flailed out, and he had to drag it back. “But he’s such a pouf.”
Her face sobered. “Maybe Gareth’s sick of being berated by athletic assholes. Plus, I’d stack David’s body against any in the world for sheer beauty.”
Shit, he wasn’t going to agree. He changed butt cheeks on the chair.
She set her tea down. “If you’d like to ask him yourself, you can. They’ll be here shortly.”
“What?” Tea splashed on his jeans. Cold! Damn.
“I’m expecting Gareth and David for lunch. Want to join us?” Her smile had a nasty edge.
He jumped up. “No. Thanks. I have to be going. I just wanted to say hello before I left.”
She stood slowly. “It really is fine if you have time for a meal.”
“No. No thanks. Appreciate the tea.” He stepped forward and gave her a really weird, one-armed hug, then hurried toward the door.
“I’ll tell Gareth you stopped by.”
“Uh, okay. Bye.” He hurried out the front door and across the lawn to his car. Bloody hell. Gareth was bringing that pouf home to see the folks, and obviously he’d told his mum every detail of every fucking word Edge had ever directed at Gareth. Shit. Two could play the tattletale game. He reached for his phone.
GARETH STARED at the ocean as they powered down the freeway toward San Diego. “It sure is pretty here. I’d like to go to UCSD, but I think the volleyball team at UC Santa Barbara is better, and they have a good business curriculum for me too.”
“Santa Barbara is just as beautiful.” David looked over and smiled. “I’ve been thinking of opening a gallery there. It’s like Laguna. A real arty crowd.”
“That’d be pretty incredible. I’d have a way to see you on more than weekends.” The phone vibrated in his pocket, then started to ring. He pulled it out. Huh, his dad. He clicked. “Hey, isn’t it some godawful hour of the morning there, old man?” He laughed.
His father didn’t. “It’s never too early to find out if your one son is a bloody faggot.”
Turned to ice. Okay, he’d heard those words so many times from his father, but never directed at him. Hard to believe how badly they hurt. “So you’ve been talking to Edge?”
“Doesn’t matter how I heard it. Is it true?”
Just fucking say it. “Yes.”
“I’ll leave your shit at your aunt’s house.” The phone went dead.
A weird sound burst out of his mouth. Half laugh. Half sob.
David looked over. “What is it?”
Gareth opened his mouth, closed, then tried again. “My-my father. I c-can’t go home.”
“What do you mean? Is he sick?”
“Only of me.”
“What?”
“Edge must have told him. He’s going to leave my stuff at my aunt’s house. I can’t go back to—his house.”
David looked over, then back at the road. “You mean your house. Where you grew up.”
“Not exactly. I lived with my mom for a long time. But I moved in with him when I was twelve.”
“You can’t go back because you’re gay?”
Gareth nodded, then realized David couldn’t see. “Yeh.”
“Fuck him.”
Gareth blew out a slow breath. “Yes, I agree. It just took me by surprise. It shouldn’t have. Edge had to tell him sometime. He’s supposed to go back in the next couple days, so if he hadn’t called him, he would have told him in person.”
David hammered a hand on his steering wheel, which looked kind of funny compared to his graceful way of gesturing. “I’m glad he’s going back. He’s not leaving this alone. He scares me. I’m scared for you.”
Gareth shook his head. “Edge would never hurt me—even if he could.”
David reached over and smoothed a hand along his bare leg below the hem of his board shorts. “I’ll be just as glad if you don’t have to test that theory.” He changed lanes and signaled for an exit. “So what does that mean? Are you a Californian, then?”
“I guess so. I’m a citizen and have a passport. But I have to arrange to transfer my credits to UC.” He sighed. “And I have to talk to my coach.”
“Bad, huh?”
“It’ll tear things apart even more than I already have.” He dropped his head in his hands.
The GPS said, “You have arrived at your destination. Your route guidance is now finished.”
Gareth shook his head. “Man, that’s the truth. I sure didn’t pay enough attention to where this route would take me, did I?” He snorted.
David parked the car and turned to him, his face neutral. “Do you wish you were back in the closet?”
“No! I mean, I don’t think so. I just acted hastily and didn’t consider all the people it would affect.”
“Was it a good thing, them not knowing you’re gay?”
Gareth glanced at David. “Okay, Yoda, I get it. Their not knowing I’m gay meant they didn’t know me. The person they said they cared about was some other guy. Right?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Is it right?”
The breath he dragged in was ragged. “It sure hurts having people hate you.”
“Oh, baby.” David leaned across the console and pulled Gareth into his arms. “I understand. If I had a dollar for every slur I’ve gotten over the years, we could hire a hit man to take out Edge and your father.”
He chuckled, but his chest hurt. A rap on the window made him look up. His mom stood outside the car, looking worried. He gave David an extra squeeze, then opened his car door. David climbed out the driver’s side and came around.
His mom looked back and forth between them. “Is everything okay?”
David slipped an arm around Gareth’s waist. “Shit has hit the Australian fan. You might have a son home earlier than you expected. Like, how about today?” He grinned.
His mom did her best to throw her arms around both of them. “I can’t think of anything I’d love more. Come on in and tell us everything. Then we can call the college.”
Chapter Nine
DAVID SNUGGLED Gareth tighter and pulled the covers over both of them. In all his alpha-male-loving years, he’d seldom been the comforter, but the role felt natural. He liked taking care of Gareth. “Still feeling shell-shocked?”
“I’m too shell-shocked to feel shell-shocked.” At least Gareth laughed.
“But the university was great about prioritizing your transfer.”
“Yeh. Parker has some serious clout since he�
��s an alumnus and helps raise funds for special projects.”
“I expect the volleyball coach might have put in a good word or twenty.”
He chuckled. “Maybe.”
“So you’ll still be able to do the exhibitions with your team?”
“I guess. But who knows about Edge? Hell, he told my mom that he’s still my friend, but calling my father wasn’t exactly friendly. There’s no use us playing if he’s going to throw the games.” He nibbled David’s ear. “Once again, I don’t want to think about him. At least, not until tomorrow.”
“Oh?” David grinned. “What would you like to think about?”
“How sex with you will make me cross the highest mountains and swim the deepest oceans.” He laughed.
“Okay, my poet, my asshole waits at the ready.”
“Oh no, I want you to fuck me. I like bottoming as much as I like to top, and I loved your cock in my bum yesterday morning.”
“And such a pretty bum it is.” David looked down at a rising situation. “Seems like there’s someone else present who likes the idea too. And here I thought it would never get hard again.” He laughed.
“Put that thing to good use, my Michelangelo.” Gareth proceeded to turn onto his hands and knees, put his face to the pillow, and thrust that bum—the bum that had changed David’s life—up in the air. For a moment David just stared. It had been a long time. Phil wouldn’t have considered letting David penetrate him. Too humiliating. And the wonderful experience with Gareth yesterday had only required him to lie still and keep his cock hard—not difficult under the circumstances. Now he needed to top in a big way. He didn’t want to disappoint Gareth.
Gareth moaned. “Fuck me, baby. Like you—I mean us—Yanks say, I’m dyin’ here.”
That put some spurs to him. David grabbed lube from the end table and got two fingers worth. Carefully he slipped one, then two fingers into Gareth’s hot hole. The heat and wet tightness of it made him a little crazy. Oh Jesus. He scissored his fingers, and Gareth moaned again and began to push back onto his hand. The boy wanted it bad. So give it to him. David might not be a natural top, but he knew what he liked.