by A M Snead
“I’m no tease,” Lance murmured and slid the tip of his tongue along the crease of Austin’s lips. He smiled and grabbed Austin’s waist and hoisted him out of the water, setting him on the edge of the pool. Lance helped himself to one more taste of Austin’s cock before he climbed out of the water as well and the two young men returned to the sunning bed.
“You know,” Austin said quietly as Lance ran his fingertips lightly over his ass then up his back. “If we get caught, we’ll both be ostracized.”
“As long as we’re together.” Lance kissed him. “I don’t give a fuck.” He pulled Austin against him and caressed his wet, naked body and nuzzled his neck. “God, baby, you feel so good in my arms.”
“Your arms feel so good around me,” Austin whispered. He slid his fingers through Lance’s wet hair. “I had a dream that you were holding me…that you loved me.” His voice strained with light emotion as he hugged Lance’s head and closed his eyes. “But then I awoke…and you were gone from my arms.” He hugged him tighter, tears forming. “And my heart was gone with you.”
Lance drew his head back then pressed it to Austin’s brow, a thickness to his quiet voice as he murmured, “I should have never let you get away. I should have told you what was in my heart.”
“There’s a lot of things we both should have said,” Austin said quietly. “But we’re here now…it’s not too late for us to be everything we dreamed of being.” He met Lance’s misty gaze, a layer of tears in his own eyes. “Is it?”
Shaking his head slowly, Lance brushed a soft kiss across his lips. “No,” he whispered and gently laid Austin down on the sun bed and covered him with his body. “As long as love is still alive…it’s never too late.”
Lance entered him again, pulling a soft whimper from Austin as the young man curled his arms and legs around Lance. They instantly fell into a tender rhythm, their senses drowning in one another’s kiss. The passion within their hearts spread out through their bodies, inspiring an urgency born of love long withheld.
“Uuuhh…Lance,” Austin whimpered breathlessly and clung to his lover, meeting every thrust and roll of his hips. “Oh God...you feel so good...” His body arched and lifted, cries and pants bursting off his lips as Lance fucked him with mounting need and desperation. “Uh-uh-uh! Fu-fuck…Uuuhh!” Tears streaked his temples and he held onto Lance with a fierce grip. “Yes! God! Lance—I love you…I love you…Uuuhh fuuuck…”
“Austin…” Lance choked and claimed his lips with an anxious kiss, his hot breath puffing erratically into Austin’s mouth. He clutched the sides of the narrow bed as his thrusts intensified and he broke loose of the kiss, gasping hard and loud. His back bowed as his hips snapped forward again and again, wrenching cries of pleasure from Austin. “Fuck! Baby! I’m gonna cum…I can’t wait…shit!”
Lance reached between them and wrapped Austin’s hard cock in his fist, stroking him wildly.
“Uuuhh!” Austin yelled. “Fuck-yes-fuck-oh God! Oh fuck! I’m cumming! I’m cumming! Uuuuhhh!” A hard spasm jerked his hips and he released with a wail of ecstasy, emptying his juices all over his torso as Lance pumped him hard and fast. He let loose of Austin’s member and pulled out of the young man, stroking himself vigorously as a strangled shout wrenched out of him and he came hard, shooting out a massive load of cum.
“Fuck!” he gasped sharply and collapsed onto Austin, panting furiously. He cupped Austin’s face with firm hands and kissed him deeply, passionately, ragged breath rushing through his nostrils. He broke from the kiss with another hard gasp and pressed his head to Austin’s brow. Tears wet both of their faces and Lance combed his fingers through his lover’s damp hair. “It feels so good, doesn’t it, baby?” He trembled and laid a soft kiss on Austin’s lips.
“What?” Austin whispered thickly, breathlessly. He stroked Lance’s face with his fingertips as fresh tears shimmered.
Lance enveloped him in a tender embrace and kissed him soft and warm on the mouth. “Not being afraid to say…I love you.”
♥
Jack and Lucas remained motionless even after Rich called Cut. The tears swimming in Lucas’ eyes, streaking his face were as real as Jack’s own. Jack had made his observations, he knew the source of the man’s fears. Maybe Jack couldn’t have what it was his heart truly desired…but he was certain Lucas could.
“Tell him,” Jack whispered, his throat tight. He rubbed his hands up the back of Lucas’ head and drew the man’s face down against his neck. “Don’t wait till it’s too late…tell Bailey you love him.”
Lucas held him tight, a tremor in his body. “And Garrett?” he asked quietly, thickly. “Will you tell him?”
Jack stared at the clear sky above them. Warm tears seeped out and he buried his face in Lucas’ shoulder. “I can’t,” he choked softly. “I already know he doesn’t love me.” He clung tighter to Lucas and squeezed his eyes shut, his breath breaking with quiet sobs. “I don’t want to hear him say it.”
58 “Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door”
Mickey didn’t come to the full awareness of how safe he felt having Garrett and Bailey in the room with him and Marcus—until they were gone. Their “party” had only gone as far as some light hand and mouth play and died down before anyone reached orgasm. But Garrett and Bailey hadn’t been there for sex, though Mickey knew they wouldn’t have denied him and Marcus had the two of them wanted to go all the way.
With them gone, Mickey now wished he had pushed for all-out sex. They would have stayed longer, and Mickey wouldn’t have had to go back to feeling scared and vulnerable so soon.
“That was fun,” Marcus murmured, a tired smile on his lips. He lay on his side next to Mickey and traced circles on Mickey’s chest with his fingertip. “I’m glad Garrett isn’t mad at us. I really thought he was.”
His back propped on the pillows, Mickey combed his fingers through the other boy’s hair. “I’m glad, too,” he whispered.
Marcus scooted closer and laid his head on Mickey’s shoulder and continued to draw invisible patterns on his skin. “Do you think Garrett and Jack will ever be friends again?” Marcus shifted and looked at Mickey. “They both seem sad. If they still have feelings for each other, why don’t they just talk to each other and work it out?”
“I don’t know,” Mickey murmured. His stare rested heavily on the door. It was unlocked, and he felt the need to get up and lock it. But Marcus was already noticing his change in behavior, if he kept acting out of character, Marcus would start asking more questions. He and Marcus had never kept secrets from each other and it was killing him that he had to do so now. It felt like betrayal and deceit to not tell him the truth. But he couldn’t take the chance. He knew Marcus—and Marcus would tell Gideon, if not others. He would believe that Gideon and the other guys could protect them. And maybe they could…but maybe they couldn’t. Mickey couldn’t risk Marcus’ life on a “maybe.”
“Do you think they should talk?”
Mickey shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.” He slid his fingers through Marcus’ blond strands near the hairline of his brow and gazed at the boy’s beautiful face. What would I do if anything ever happened to you? He sighed and laid his cheek against Marcus’ head. “Sometimes things are more complicated than they appear,” he said quietly. “Maybe talking wouldn’t help fix whatever’s wrong with them.”
“Something has to,” Marcus whispered, and a tremor of emotion shook his voice. “Doesn’t it? They’re supposed to be together. I know they are.”
“I think so, too,” Mickey admitted softly. He turned his face and kissed Marcus’ hair. “If only everyone could be in love like we are.”
Marcus smiled and lifted his head, kissing Mickey on the lips. “Then every day would be an ice cream sundae with lots of yummy toppings and a big cherry on top. And lots of…” Marcus grinned impishly and slid his hand between Mickey’s legs. “…nuts.”
“Can’t forget the nuts.” Mickey laughed and gazed into Marcus’ lovely blue eyes, gleaming wit
h mischief. His whole world stared back at him—the one boy who owned every beat of his heart.
I won’t let him hurt you, baby. I swear on my life he’ll never touch you. There’s nothing I won’t do to keep you safe.
♥
Don’t wait till it’s too late…tell Bailey you love him.
Lucas entered the house through the side door, started to take the rear stairs up to the second floor then changed his mind and followed the narrow hall to the main entry hall. He poked his head in the rec room, which was vacant but for a couple of the guys playing a game of pool. Lucas gave them a brief nod and headed up the main stairs, his heart pounding.
Would he really say it? Could he? It had been his idea that they keep their relationship casual, touting all the reasons why a serious, exclusive relationship coupled with this profession was a recipe for disaster. Bailey had agreed without argument, which in itself warned Lucas that confessions of deeper feelings might not be such a good idea—not if he hoped to keep seeing Bailey.
Yet when they were alone together, Lucas couldn’t deny the raw emotion between them. The very day Bailey had returned this last time, they’d shared a very intimate moment before making love, each confessing how much they had missed one another. Lucas flat-out “claimed” Bailey as his own before the other guys. Weren’t they already “unofficially” exclusive? Was the risk really so great in taking that extra step and making it official? Maybe “I love you” had been on the tip of both their tongues longer than either realized.
Maybe.
What if it was just wishful thinking on his part? If he made the confession prematurely…he could lose Bailey entirely.
“Hey, Lance.”
Lucas paused on his way to his room and turned around. Derek approached, a smirk on his lips.
“You didn’t wear him out too much, did ya?” He smiled. “You better have left some for Zach and me.”
“He’ll rejuvenate.” Lucas forced a cocky grin he didn’t really feel. “In time.”
Derek punched his arm lightly. “He better.” He nodded. “I need that boy fully functional and revved up when Zach and I get our hands on him.”
“No worries,” Lucas assured. “He’ll be good to go.”
“Good.” Derek grinned. “Because we plan to have lots of fun with him.”
“I’m sure you’ll have plenty of fun.” Lucas smiled. “He’s definitely a smoking hot one.”
Derek chuckled. “That’s what I like to hear.” He winked. “So, hey. You wanna play a game of pool or something?”
Lucas groaned and shook his head, smiling. “I need a fucking nap.”
Nodding, Derek laughed. “Yeah, no shit. I guess I’ll have to kick your ass at eight-ball later, then.”
“As if,” Lucas chuffed and headed on to his room as Derek grinned and took a detour down the stairs.
Outside the bedroom door, Lucas hesitated. Bailey often waited for him in his room after a shoot. Contrary to what he’d told Derek, doing a scene usually got him worked up rather than wore him out. For whatever reason, having sex with another guy on camera made him all the more hot to fuck Bailey afterwards.
Except today. The skit with Jack had been different, and it wasn’t “fucking” that he had in mind. Not just yet, anyway.
He took a deep breath to soothe his nerves and opened the door. The room was empty.
Maybe it’s just as well. This wasn’t something he should rush into. Maybe send out some feelers first, test the emotional waters and see how deep Bailey was truly prepared to go.
♥
Give a smile to someone without one.
The paper heart lay in Jack’s palm as he sat on the edge of his bed, Jill’s gentle spirit behind the words. She always had a smile for everyone. She would tell Jack—"Smiles are free. Give away as many as possible.”
After the skit with Lucas, his “smiles” felt in short supply. He’d admitted to Lucas that the only reason he didn’t expose his heart to Garrett was because he knew Garrett didn’t love him. So, in turn…he had confessed to loving Garrett, when that hadn’t been his intention at all.
You can’t fight it, little brother. Your heart is gone.
“Even if that’s true,” Jack whispered as a lump formed in his throat and his eyes began to fill. “I don’t want to know it, Jilly bean.” He folded the paper heart in half and left the bed, placing it in the designated box.
I don’t want to face the truth of how I feel, he thought with an ache in his heart. The truth hurts too much.
The short-lived memories from before the night at the club only served as weapons of torture. And the memory of the promo shoot only made the pain worse.
Off camera, you can forget you fucking know me—and I’ll do the same.
Jack struggled to conjure up feelings of bitterness and anger toward the man, but that well was running dry. And when it emptied completely, all that would be left was the anguish of reality, that he had fallen into the same trap as Jill. He had taken the chance and reached out for love, and it had turned its back and walked away.
“It’s your own fault,” Jack whispered. He’d known what would happen and he still allowed himself to get drawn in. Jack understood all this but playing out the skit with Lucas…speaking his heart, his fears, out loud…it had done something to him inside. Forced him to face realities he’d been desperately trying to run from. But maybe the only way to truly put it all to rest…was to tell the truth.
To Garrett.
The thought of going to the man and laying his heart out to be trampled on, it brought on a swell of nausea and caused tremors in his knees. Even if he wanted to do this—was he physically capable? Would his feet even walk him to Garrett’s door, or turn and run the other way?
Only one way to find out.
Now? He was going to do this now? Maybe he should wait, think about it some more and figure out how to say what he needed to say.
You know what you need to say, little brother. Quit stalling.
Jack stared at the bedroom door. Just get it over with, that’s what he needed to do. Be done with the man once and for all. Let it all go. If Garrett chose to continue hating him, then that would be on him not Jack. Losing Jill had brought to light how short and fragile life was. It shouldn’t be wasted on a grudge.
Maybe telling him now, while the effects of the skit were still strong in his heart and mind, would somehow make it easier. But it didn’t feel easy as he willed his reluctant legs to carry him to the door and out into the hall.
The instant he emerged from his bedroom, his heart began to hammer against his ribs and gained force with each step along the carpeted floor toward Garrett’s room. When he finally found himself standing before Garrett’s door, his heart was pounding so hard his chest hurt and he could barely breathe. How the hell was he supposed to say anything? He could hardly breathe.
Jack didn’t know for sure how long he stood at the door before he managed to raise his hand to knock. A tremor shook his loose fist when it was still inches from connecting with the wood. He squeezed his fist tighter, went for a hard knock—but instead, his hand flattened quietly on the door and he touched his head to the oak barrier, and closed his eyes, his throat swelling closed.
“I…I love you…Garrett,” he whispered, barely audible. His eyes squeezed tighter and his throat worked as tears struggled to push out. A crippling ache cut through his chest and he shoved his head harder against the door, choking on a quiet sob. “I know that…that you wish you had never met me,” he whispered so low he barely heard his own voice. “But I…I don’t wish the same…I thought I did but I…I don’t.” He shuddered as another sob broke in his throat and a tear found its escape, weaving down his cheek. “I don’t…”
“He isn’t in there.”
Jack flinched hard and jerked away from the door as if it were scalding hot. He hurriedly swept away the rogue tear and stared at Scotty, standing just outside his bedroom door.
“He went to town with Bailey,” S
cotty said quietly. “He isn’t here.”
Jack swallowed thickly, his vision blurry. “Oh…” He nodded. “Okay.” He stared at the other boy for a long moment, then glanced away. “I-I’ll talk to him later.” But would he? Could he summon the courage a second time? He turned away from Garrett’s door.
“I’m sorry,” Scotty whispered, and Jack barely caught it, slowly facing him again. Scotty stared at him, a look on his face that Jack could only describe as forlorn. “I’m sorry…you got hurt.”
For the first time since meeting the young man, Jack caught a glimpse of how vulnerable…and lonely…he truly was. Was his tentative offering…his way of trying to reach out?
Give a smile to someone without one.
In truth, the last thing Jack felt like doing right then was smiling. But as he gazed at the other boy, he detected a sadness emanating from deep within—Jack managed an unsteady, yet sincere smile. “Thank you, Scotty,” he said thickly. He watched the smile gain form uncertainly on Scotty’s lips as the boy ducked his head and nodded, then turned toward his room. “I’m…” Jack’s voice halted him, and he glanced at Jack from beneath dark lashes. “I’m sorry you got hurt, too,” Jack murmured softly, his eyes shimmering.
A faint wetness glossed Scotty’s eyes and he nodded silently as he slipped back into his room and closed the door quietly.
Jack stood staring at the boy’s bedroom door then slowly shifted his gaze to Garrett’s door.
Now more than ever…he was beginning to understand the crippling pain within Scotty’s heart.
59 “The New Boy”
Benjamin Sweet. That was the name of the boy up onstage when Garrett and Bailey entered the Lion’s Den.
“Beautiful, isn’t he?” Daniel smiled and gazed at the kid.
“How old is he?” Garrett asked doubtfully. He was young, and, at first glance, Garrett thought he looked no more than sixteen or seventeen but knew that couldn’t be right—Daniel wouldn’t allow an underage boy into his club, much less allow him to dance onstage. Not that what he was doing qualified as “dancing”—but rather molesting the pole.
