by Andrew Grey
“You’re really going to worry about those right now?” he asked.
“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Obie said, scurrying to pick them up and get them back under Bri’s arms. “I want you as healthy and out of pain as possible.” Then he was there once again, holding Bri, their kisses intensifying quickly. “Why don’t we turn out the lights and go upstairs?” His heart pounded loudly enough that he could hear it, and he hoped to hell he wasn’t making a fool of himself. Bri nodded, and Obie waited for him to leave the room, switching out the lights before going up the stairs, watching Bri’s ass as he took each step.
At the top of the stairs, Bri paused, turning toward him. “Which room?”
Obie paused. He’d assumed that Bri was interested in sleeping with him. They had been hot and heavy, but maybe…. “Which one do you want?” he asked sheepishly.
Bri balanced on the crutches, leaning closer. “Let me be clear—which room is yours?” His eyes blazed with heat and his voice sent shivers up and down Obie’s spine. He blinked and motioned to the door at the end of the hall. Bri maneuvered his way to the door and opened it. “Wow,” he said.
“I know. Don’t you love it?” The bedroom was his favorite room in the house. The furniture was all dark wood, with light gray walls, and a huge, deep red comforter that looked as divine and decadent as anything he had ever seen. Obie had found it on a trip to Dallas a few years ago and had paid quite a bit for it, but still thought it was worth every penny.
“Man….” Bri entered the room and set his crutches against the wall, then sat on the edge of the bed, slowly lying back. “Oh my God. It’s like I’m on a cloud.”
“Exactly. And it’s a new age material, so it isn’t anywhere near as warm as you’d think it would be.” He slipped off his shoes and climbed onto the bed, lying on his back, looking up at the ceiling. Shoes thunked to the floor, and Bri sighed. “I’m a little worn out.” He lay back and didn’t move, breathing deeply. Obie slipped off the bed and carefully removed his brace, setting it near the crutches.
“How is that?” Obie asked.
“Heavenly. Whenever I take that off, it feels like I’m getting my leg back, at least for a while.” Obie lay down once again, and Bri’s hand slipped into his. Neither said anything, even as Obie’s heart beat faster, but he didn’t want to make waves or change the mood. Obie had brought a few guys to his room, but that was mostly for sex. They hadn’t just stayed there, lying side by side quietly, simply being happy. There was something to be said about having someone he could do nothing with in bed.
After a few minutes, Bri got up and hobbled out the door and to the bathroom, insisting he could do it himself. Obie sat up, wondering what he should do. Should he get undressed and be waiting for Bri to come back? But what if he needed help getting to the bed? Bri didn’t have his brace and crutches. More unsure of himself than he’d ever been, Obie took off his socks and put away the laundry. Then he heard the water go off.
He stood, waiting for the door to open, but wasn’t at all prepared to see Bri standing in the bathroom doorway wearing only a towel. Damn, just damn. His throat went dry as thick, corded muscles rippled with each movement Bri made. He was gorgeous, and Obie could barely believe his eyes. He had wondered many times what Bri looked like under his team jersey and shorts, even his jeans and shirt, but every single one of his imaginings had come up short. “Do you need help getting back to the bedroom?” he asked, forcing his voice to work.
At his nod, Obie hurried over and took Bri’s arm, his heat and damp skin sliding under his hand. “Thanks.”
“Yeah.” He tried not to look as the towel shifted with each of Bri’s steps. Finally, though it was only a few minutes at most, they were in the bedroom, and Obie had Bri seated once more on the side of the bed.
“I’m going to use the bathroom too. I’ll be right back.” He hurried away, because he was seconds from jumping the man, and scampered into the bathroom, closing the door. He stripped off his clothes, freeing his throbbing cock, and quickly brushed his teeth. Then he stepped into the shower, rinsing off quickly, drying his skin, and checking in the mirror that he didn’t look too freakish. His hair was even redder now that it was wet, and he looked downward. His chest wasn’t defined and full like Bri’s, and he was skinny and pale, where Bri was tall, muscular, and hot as all hell. Still, hiding in the bathroom wasn’t going to do him any good. He turned off the lights and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around his waist before opening the door.
He stepped into the bedroom and paused. Bri had turned out all the lights but a small one next to the bed. The glow shone off his skin where he lay on the white sheets, half drawn up to just cover his butt, back and arms stretched out. The sheet clung to him, accentuating the curves of what was hidden underneath the covers. Obie gasped and covered his mouth to keep a squeak from sneaking out. “Are you still going to give me that massage?” Bri asked, seemingly half asleep, but Obie had an idea that Bri was just as awake as he was, especially judging by the way his leg shook just a little under the sheet.
Damn, that excitement was hot. Obie approached and pulled open the drawer of the nightstand, getting out a small vial of cinnamon oil before closing the drawer again. Then he climbed onto the bed and sat next to Bri. He rubbed a little oil into his hands and then placed them on Bri’s shoulder blades. He jumped slightly and settled again, breathing deeply as Obie rubbed in the oil, encouraging the muscles to relax and let go of their tension.
“You have magic hands, you know that?” Bri stretched out farther as Obie stroked the corded muscles of his back and down to his hips.
“I try,” Obie whispered and continued working his back. “You really need to learn not to carry your tension in your shoulders. The muscles are in knots.” He worked deeply inside Bri’s shoulders and then moved down his back to the curve of his butt. He hesitated before slowly sliding the sheet downward. Holy cow. His hands smoothed over firm cheeks and he groaned deep in his throat. Obie flipped the sheet off Bri’s legs, exposing his entire backside to his ravenous eyes. His hands slipped and he giggled nervously.
“What are you doing?” Bri grinned as he half rolled over, his eyes dark and deep with passion.
“Your hotness sort of overtook me.” He leaned down and kissed Bri. “You know, I’m used to doing these on my table down in the office, not up here in my bedroom.” He patted Bri’s butt and went back to work, smooth skin flowing under his hands as he kneaded and massaged the perfect globes.
Bri sighed softly when he shifted to his legs. For the time being, Obie put all of Bri’s hotness out of his mind as he worked his injured leg. “You know, if you keep that up you’ll turn me to Jell-O.” He groaned as Obie finished the first leg, starting to work on the second. Then Bri did something amazing, stupendous, breath-stealing—he rolled over.
Obie nearly swallowed his tongue for a second and then found his voice. “What exactly do you want me to massage?” His attention drifted from Bri’s eyes, down his strong chest, to the long, thick cock that was stretching most of the way to his belly button. Damn. Just… damn. He winked, and Bri sat up, tugging the towel away from his waist and pulling Obie down on top of him.
“How about—” He slid his hands down Obie’s back, cupping his butt. “—you and I put the massage on hold.” He guided Obie’s lips to his, kissing him deeply. “I think I’ve wondered what this would be like ever since I saw you dancing at the club.”
“Me?” Obie breathed.
“Oh yeah. You moved this tight body, got me wondering things I was afraid of.” He held Obie tighter, flexing his hips slightly under him, their cocks sliding together. “You made me watch you just by the way you moved.”
Obie swallowed hard. “And now?” He stiffened. “I’m not dark and tan like you. I’m sort of pasty and pale and—”
“You’re stunning,” Bri told him, running his fingers through Obie’s hair. “I watch you all the damn time.” He drew Obie closer, heat building as Obie closed his lips o
ver Bri’s. He felt the kiss deep down to his heart and soul, and heat blossomed in his chest and radiated outward.
Obie let his hands wander, learning the contours of Bri’s chest and shoulders. He already knew some of him from previous massages, but this was different. Then, he’d been doing his job; this was full-on, intense touch, and he wanted to memorize the curve of each muscle. He pulled back, burying his face in Bri’s neck, inhaling as Bri stretched to give him access. He found a divot at the beginning of the shoulder, and worried it with his tongue, smiling as Bri quivered, groaning loudly.
“Good?” Obie breathed, trying to remain in control of himself. The energy and attraction frizzled between them, almost too much to process.
“Everywhere you touch me is good,” Bri panted, and Obie grinned, going back to the task of drawing out as many whimpers and groans as possible. It was like a concerto of pleasure, the sounds mixing with his own to fill the room, building on each other until they echoed back to them over and over again. The crescendo came as Obie slowly slid down Bri’s body, hands and tongue blazing a trail over his rippled belly before closing around Bri’s length and taking it between his lips.
Bri’s musky richness burst on Obie’s tongue as he took him deeper. Obie was good at this, he knew it, and Bri did as well, in a matter of seconds. He lifted his gaze to Bri’s and found half-hooded eyes, his mouth partially open, pure ecstasy emblazoned on his face. “I… oh my God….” Obie had reduced Bri to incoherence, and there was nothing sweeter. “Come here,” Bri gasped. It was the first thing that made any sense, and Obie pulled away, letting Bri guide him to his lips. Their kiss seared the damn sheets, or at least it felt like it. Bri slid down the bed under him and guided Obie to turn around, straddling him. Then Obie lowered himself, gasping at the wet heat that surrounded him. He took Bri once more, letting the passion, lust, and pure ecstasy carry him away on winds of orgasmic wonder that seemed to go on forever.
Obie lay next to Bri a few minutes later, after his head cleared and he was able to think again. Sliding closer, he nestled right up to Bri, running his fingers lightly over his chest. “Wow.”
“You can say that again,” Bri whispered between breaths. “I could stay right here forever.”
“That would be nice. We could keep the outside world at bay and not have to deal with anything.” Of course, that wasn’t realistic, but it was a nice thought. He closed his eyes and sighed, luxuriating in the way Bri’s arm held him close and the heat that radiated off his body. The calming scent of cinnamon from the oil was a nice touch as well.
A DING from somewhere in the house pinged the edge of Obie’s attention, just as he was falling to sleep. He ignored it until it came again. “I’ll go see if I can find it,” Obie said. He wasn’t going to have Bri try to get out of bed.
“I think it’s from somewhere close,” Bri said, and Obie sighed, sliding off the bed and hoping it came again. After about a minute, it sounded once again and Obie followed it to the chair where clothes had been piled. He found Bri’s pants and dug the phone out of his pocket, then handed it to Bri before joining him on the bed once again.
The light from the screen shone on Bri’s face as he opened the message. He didn’t seem to listen to it, but paled as he read. “What is it?” Obie leaned over, glancing at the transcript before locating his own phone. He pulled up his dad’s number.
His father picked up on the second ring. “Dad, it’s me. Bri got another message. It’s a voicemail this time. Do you want to have someone come over here to pick it up or can it wait until tomorrow?” Obie groaned as he turned to the clock. He had a client coming before nine in the morning and he needed to rest at some point.
“I’ll stop by in the morning on my way to the office,” his dad said from the other end of the line. “Don’t do anything to it, and I suggest you put the phone aside and leave it. Don’t turn it off. But if this guy keeps calling, just let it go to voicemail and save everything.”
“Thanks, Dad. I’ll see you then.” He hung up and relayed his dad’s message to Bri. Then Obie took the phone, switched it to Vibrate, and set it inside one of his drawers before returning to bed. “Dad will come by to get it in the morning. And we should try to sleep. He’s going to be here pretty early, and we don’t want to look like we’ve been up all night.”
“Okay.” Bri didn’t sound convinced, and Obie got up, pulled on his robe, and went back downstairs, checking that all the doors were locked and the windows shut tight. Then he came back up and climbed into bed.
“Dad will know what to do.”
Bri nodded, and Obie doubted either of them was going to get much sleep. “I’m wondering if we should get your dad and my dad together on this one. They may be able to help each other out.” Bri yawned, but Obie could sense that he was very much awake. He could almost feel the tension growing in his muscles.
“That’s not a bad idea. Why don’t we ask my dad in the morning? I’m sure he could use all the help he can get.” Lord knew Bri needed the help and support. It was hard for Obie to understand what he was going through.
“And I’m thinking you may be right about my injury. I’ll tell your dad about it in the morning and give him the name of the player. Maybe the guy can shed some light on this if the police apply enough pressure.” Bri rolled onto his side and then back again, tossing and turning for a while.
“You know it’s okay to be upset. No one wants to think that there’s someone out there who wants to hurt him.” He put an arm around Bri’s chest. “Just relax and try to get some sleep. We can’t let this asshole win, no matter what. You have to get ready to play again, and my dad and the police are going to find this freak and nail him to the wall.”
Bri hummed. “Did you read the entire message?”
“No… I….” Obie paused.
“He threatened my friends. He’s done it before, too,” Bri whispered. “How can I keep them safe? What if he tries to burn their houses down? Or goes after their wives and kids? What am I supposed to do then?” He put his hands over his face. “I couldn’t live with myself. It’s bad enough he wants to hurt me, but…. What if he’s decided that you or David or Chippy need to be the messengers—whatever the hell that means?”
Obie could almost feel Bri pulling away. “Don’t you dare take this on yourself. Whatever this is about, we need to see if we can get to the bottom of it.”
“I keep thinking this has to do with me being gay. He knows and hates it, because he keeps using the word ‘abomination’ in the messages. I mean, I know I’ve done some things more publicly lately, but I was pretty closeted before I hurt my knee. Hell, I never really had much time to do anything other than play, practice, and stay in shape for the next season.” He held his head. “I keep going over things, and it’s making my head hurt.”
Obie gently lowered Bri’s hands, massaging his temples and skull until some of the tension leached out of him. “Then let it go for now. Dad will get the message and then he can ask the questions he needs to. That word can have a lot of various meanings and uses, so let’s not jump to conclusions.” Obie grew quiet and slowly gentled his motions until Bri’s eyes drifted closed and his breathing eventually evened out. Obie lay back down and did his best not to move, eventually falling into a fitful sleep, waking every few hours to check that Bri was okay and that the house was still quiet.
A BANGING woke him from the first sound sleep he’d gotten all night. The sheets were cold, and Obie was alone. He swore under his breath as he jumped out of bed, pulled on a robe, and hurried down the stairs, nearly tripping over his own feet. “Morning, James,” he heard Bri say. By the time he reached the living room, his father and Bri were already choosing their chairs. “I made coffee,” Bri said.
“I’ll get it.” God, he needed some strong stuff if he was to get his head working properly. His eyes felt gritty and he knew he looked like hell. Still, Bri smiled at him and made him shiver with that “starving man at a buffet” look. Obie padded into the kitchen, pou
red the coffee into mugs, and brought them in, passing them around.
Bri handed his dad his unlocked phone. “I didn’t actually listen to the message last night, but I read the transcription. It was enough.”
His dad nodded. “I’d like to take the phone and have my tech guys analyze it. We won’t damage it, and I’ll make sure you get it back, but we can clone it so we get any messages that are sent to you. We may be able to trace where this one came from.” He sighed. “At least we can try. Everyone thinks it’s pretty easy because they make it look that way on television, but it’s anything but. Still, we may get lucky.” He listened to the message with a scowl. Obie knew exactly what his father was thinking.
“He’s escalating,” Obie said, and his father nodded. “Whatever message he wants to get across, he thinks he’s being clear about it, but he isn’t really. It could be that his hold on reality is tenuous.” Obie sat down, making sure his robe was closed. The last thing he wanted to do was flash his father.
“I agree with that,” his dad said. “And that means that both of you need to be extra careful. I don’t like the tone of these messages at all. They’re threatening in the extreme and the net is being cast wider.” He put the phone away and asked Bri for his unlock code. Bri wrote it down and handed it to him.
“I hate that this asshole has decided that my friends are fair game. What if he decides to go after my mom and dad? What sort of protection do they have?” Bri’s hand shook again.
“His dad has mobility issues,” Obie supplied.
“Yes. Dr. Early and I have worked together in the past. He’s provided valuable insight to the department over the years.”
“I was thinking that you might get him involved. He’s already seen many of the notes, and like you said, he has insights that are different from the rest of ours.” Obie finished his coffee and set the mug on the table, waiting for the caffeine to kick on. “Anyway, we appreciate you helping with this.” Obie yawned and checked the time. He had a client coming in an hour and a half, and somehow he needed to be awake and functional, which probably meant a shower and three cups of coffee. “I know you need to get to work.”