Clickbait (Off the Record Book 1)

by Garett Groves

  And then his hips rose up and his hole clamped down around me, the grip making my cock throb and forcing a guttural sound out of my mouth. When only the head of my cock remained inside, he let himself fall back down, his ass colliding with my thighs, the sudden overwhelming sensation pushing the air out of both of our lungs. His forehead crashed into mine and I wrapped my arms around his waist as yet again he rose up, agonizingly slow, only to come crashing back down.

  The pace only intensified as we lost ourselves in each other, his mouth gasping and moaning into mine as I started to meet his down strokes with my own upward ones, my hands locked behind his back to hold him in place. His cock bounced and leaked on my chest with each stroke and as hard as it was he never once touched it until we were moving so quickly that nothing but the sound of our bodies slapping together filled the room.

  He pulled back and I held him at an angle so that he could stroke himself and he did so at a hungry pace. His eyes half closed and his breathing pattern turned erratic and I knew he was getting close to the edge, so I took deeper, longer strokes, each plunging further than the last.

  I buried myself in him to the hilt as he erupted on me, coating my chest with rope after rope of his cum. His grunts and moans filled the apartment and his head fell back as his body gave one last shudder before he swung forward and his forehead found mine again.

  “That was quick,” I laughed through my own labored breathing.

  “I needed it,” he said and without giving himself time to recover he rose up on me again. “Your turn,” he said, returning to our rapid pace as he bobbed up and down on my cock. He rested his head in the crook of my neck, kissing and biting it as he rode me with increasing intensity, using his every muscle to grip and twist me with increasing need. It took mere moments for the burn of my orgasm to surface.

  “Slow down,” I begged, digging my fingers into his back. It felt far too good to end it all so quickly.

  “No. Let yourself go. I want it,” he whispered into my ear and I knew I was lost. My cries of pleasure mixed with his as I gave him what he wanted in burst after earth-shaking burst. My eyes snapped shut and I stopped breathing as I emptied myself into him. It was so intense, so incredibly overwhelming, that I worried I might pass out if it continued, and then as suddenly as it had seized me, it released me. I gasped back into life and my eyes fluttered open to find him smiling at me, his own eyes twinkling.

  “That was beautiful,” he whispered, placing a soft kiss on my lips. After gulping down a breath of air, I kissed him back, cradling his head in my hands as I did, hoping he picked up on the intensity of the feelings I felt for him in the moment. I didn’t have enough air in my lungs to form words and even if I had, I doubted I would have expressed myself adequately. When we broke he chuckled and nuzzled his nose against mine.

  “I take it that means you agree,” he said and I could only nod as he stroked my shoulders and every other inch of me his hands could find. Though my pleasure had passed, he was still hungry, still wanted more, almost like he couldn’t get close enough to me.

  “We’re screwed, aren’t we?” he laughed. Beyond screwed, I thought, laughing because it was all I could manage. Moments earlier I’d thought the best thing to do would be to nip whatever this was between us in the bud before it got serious and before the press ran wild with it, but now I doubted it was possible. I didn’t ever want to be without this, without him. But I had to.

  He climbed off of me and I waddled into his bathroom to get rid of the condom. When I came back, he pulled me down to lie beside him on the sofa. He tugged my arm over his chest and held it tight, his fingers winding together with mine over his heart, the heat radiating from our bodies keeping us warm. I buried my nose in his hair, inhaled the scent of him, knowing it might be the last time for a long time. I didn’t know what to say, didn’t have the heart to tell him, especially not after what we’d just shared.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked as if he’d read my mind.

  “Not much. I’m pretty blank upstairs,” I lied. I couldn’t do it here. Not now. He chuckled and gripped my hand with his.

  “That’s OK. Maybe we don’t need words right now,” he said.

  “Yeah, maybe not,” I said, my heart deflating. The thought of ending things, even temporarily, was almost too much for me. But what other choice did I have? We couldn’t keep this going and keep it a secret, not when we’d progressed so quickly and with this kind of intensity. The tabloid photo of the two of us at the restaurant proved we couldn’t keep it a secret even at a much lower level.

  Maybe this is my chance to start over, I thought. I don’t have to keep running. Kile really wants to be with me—despite everything—and I want to be with him, too. Are either of our careers really more important than that? Or am I being blind again, like with Jeremy?

  “We’ll have to be more careful from now on out,” I said, my courage building as the words came out.

  “I know,” he said. “What about the tabloid? What about Lee?”

  “We’ll deny the photos and any requests for comment. We can put out a joint statement and say that they were taken completely out of context and published without explanation. We’ll say the photos made it look like something was going on between us that wasn’t,” I said, making it all up as I spoke.

  “OK, but what about Lee? He knows and he still wants to make us out to be Romeo and Juliet in the documentary,” Kile said.

  “Then we won’t give him anything else to work with. When we’re together and the cameras are rolling, both tomorrow for the last bit of the production schedule and for every little press appearance we do to promote it, we’ll be as professionally cold and distant as possible,” I said, doubting even as I said it that we could pull it off.

  “And privately?”

  “Privately nothing changes.”

  “Where will we meet? If the tabloids suspect something is going on, they’re going to be following us now,” he said. I hadn’t even thought of that.

  “Shit,” I cursed. That alone undid my entire plan. It hit me then that there wasn’t any other way out of this. We couldn’t lie, couldn’t steal away to see each other with Lee and the rest of the world watching our every move. It would only be a matter of time before another photo just like the ones already in existence sprung up and the next one might be even worse. My pulse quickened and my throat tightened as I struggled to find the words to tell Kile.

  “Jeff, you can say it,” he said. “I understand. I hate it, but I understand.”

  “Is that why you…?” I started and trailed off as he nodded. It made sense now. Kile had known it was over as soon as he found out about the photos of us, the same way I had known. Neither of us wanted to say it, and now maybe neither of us had to.

  “It doesn’t have to be permanent,” I said quickly, trying to soften the blow—for both of us. “Maybe once all of this is over with and the attention on us has fallen off we can give it another shot.” He squeezed my hand again before lifting it to his mouth and kissing the back of it.

  “You and I both know that’s not going to happen,” he said. “But I appreciate the sentiment.”

  “Why can’t it?”

  “Because this problem isn’t going to just magically go away once we’re done with the documentary. If it wasn’t that, it would be something else, another job, another opportunity standing in our way. You’ve got your career and I’ve got mine and no amount of passion between us can replace either of those. Maybe it was stupid of me to think it could have ever worked out in the first place,” he said.

  “No, don’t say that. Nothing about this is stupid or wrong or any of that crap,” I said, forcing myself up on an elbow to stare down at him. He rolled his head toward me and in his eyes I saw a mixture of admiration and sadness that almost crushed me. He sat up and pressed his lips against mine. We stayed that way for what seemed like forever until finally he pulled back and the look in his eyes had shifted back to the closed off and deter
mined look I’d seen in them the first time we met.

  “I’m nothing if not a realist, Jeff,” he said, his voice turned flat and emotionless.

  “This doesn’t have to be the end. It isn’t the end,” I insisted and he said nothing. Instead, he sat up, retrieved his clothes from the floor and quickly dressed. “Kile, say something, don’t shut me out. Not now, not after this,” I said, fear clawing its way up my throat as I realized I was losing him when I thought I’d finally won him.

  “It does and it is,” he said with his back to me. “I think it’s probably best if you go.”

  “Kile, please,” I said, reaching for my own clothes.

  “Don’t make this harder than it already is,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he continued, and disappeared into his bedroom, leaving me sitting in the echo of his door locking, naked, confused, and heartbroken.

  21

  Jeff

  Walking into NewSpin the next morning felt like walking into the scene of my own execution. No one knew what had happened between Kile and me, but I knew, and that was all that it took. I hadn’t slept at all, not even a few scattered, tortured minutes, and I felt like I was sleepwalking through the front doors of the office.

  Unlike every other day, this time people took notice of me. They looked up, took in how haggard I could only guess I looked—I hadn’t even paid attention to the clothes I’d put on, much less dared to check myself in a mirror before I left my house—and immediately averted their eyes. I didn’t blame them. I probably would’ve done the same thing.

  As some small mercy, Dylan wasn’t there, so I shuffled to his desk and fell down into the chair. Though I tried, I couldn’t get Kile out of my mind, nor the cold, distant way he’d asked me to leave the night before without giving me a chance to argue. It was amazing to me how quickly he’d flipped the switch. We’d gone from lovers caught in the throes of passion to strangers on the street in a matter of seconds. That was the most troubling part for me.

  I had no idea how I was going to face him later that evening. I hadn’t thought twice about it before yesterday. He was due to give another speech at a different university, though I had no idea what it was supposed to cover or if he’d even go through with it. I hoped he’d cancel, but I doubted he had the ability to sit with his feelings so I knew he’d almost certainly give the speech; pour himself into his work to try and forget everything else.

  Not that I knew anything about that.

  He was right to do it, I thought, and it was true. I’d been thinking of ending it myself moments before him. So why had it hit me so hard? If I had been the one to put an end to things, would that have made it any better?

  Of course it would’ve. Because then I still would’ve been in control, I thought, knowing that that was true as well. It’d always been about that between Kile and me, from the very first time we’d met. We’d spent weeks fighting for control over each other and over how we’d handle the knowledge of our relationship—and we’d both lost it in the end, anyway.

  Kile did the right thing and I would’ve done it if he hadn’t. I just have to accept it, I told myself, though I doubted I’d ever be able to. It stunned me even now, after all I’d been through with him, how much he’d gotten to me, just how deep he’d penetrated me.

  And what did I have now? I wanted to believe he’d come around and give things a shot again once the series was done and over, but what assurance did I have of that? Maybe he’d already decided that it wasn’t worth it, that there was too much risk involved. After all, he’d said almost exactly that.

  I sighed and rubbed my burning, itching eyes. This is what it’d been like all night long while I lay awake, desperately trying to think of any and everything besides him. Now, as I sat at Dylan’s desk in the middle of the NewSpin newsroom, I wondered what the hell I was even doing there. I didn’t have anything to do, not until later when I was supposed to be at the university to cover Kile’s speech, but I told myself that it would at least help me feel like I wasn’t moping.

  But here I am moping anyway. Fuck, I should’ve known better than to let this happen, I thought. Look at me, it’s just like what happened with Jeremy. I’m falling right back into it, the darkness that almost did me in with him. Tears burned at the corners of my eyes and I took a deep breath to hold them back. I couldn’t cry, not here, not in front of the staff.

  I looked up and out at the bustling newsroom and watched all of the people I’d never taken the time to get to know—and probably never would—flitting about and furiously working on whatever it was they’d been assigned. At that moment, I would have given anything to be as busy and distracted as they were.

  Before I broke, I shoved back from the desk and stood to make a beeline for the bathroom. If I was going to let this shit out, I wanted to make sure no one else saw it. The only way to do that was to hide in a stall. It was pathetic and immature, but at that point, I didn’t really care.

  I realized then I’d never actually used the restroom in the building so I didn’t know where it was. To my dismay, I saw signs pointing beyond Lee’s office. The last person I wanted to talk to in this state was Lee, especially not after what he’d said to Kile and what he’d tried to coerce him into doing, but I didn’t have a choice.

  Swallowing my fear, I set off for the bathroom and had just passed Lee’s office, looking the opposite direction, when I spotted movement within it from the corner of my eye and heard his office door fly open. God damn it, I thought, attempting to walk faster.

  “Jeff! Jeff! I didn’t know you were here yet. C’mere, we need to talk,” he called after me. I knew if I tried to pretend like I hadn’t heard him he’d just shout louder and draw more attention to me so with a sigh I turned around and walked back to his office. As I passed him, he clapped a hand on my shoulder like nothing at all was wrong. I already knew what he was going to say but I had to keep the charade going. He drew the blinds on the windows and took his usual seat at his desk.

  “Sit down,” he said, so I did without argument.

  “Are you OK? You look like you got hit by a bus,” he said.

  “Yeah, and I feel like it, too. But I’m fine,” I lied, probably not very convincingly, because he frowned at me and shook his head.

  “Cut the crap, Jeff. You’re about as fine as a bleeding person in a shark tank,” he said. “It’s Avery, isn’t it?”

  “It is, but it’s nothing for you to worry about because it’s all settled and done,” I said and he raised an eyebrow at me.

  “What is? What do you mean?”

  “Don’t play stupid with me, Lee. I know you know about the tabloid photos and I know you talked to Kile about them. I also know you tried to force him into including our little tryst in the series and he told you to piss off. Well, lucky for you he told me to do the same thing,” I gushed. I hadn’t meant to say any of it, but my brain evidently had plans that didn’t need my approval.

  “I know that puts some holes in your plot to sell our love story to the world for clicks, but I can’t say I’m upset about it,” I continued and he smirked before sitting back in his chair, which groaned and creaked.

  “It definitely does but maybe that’s for the best. You know, this whole romance could’ve made things very awkward and painful for all of us if it kept going and we didn’t keep it in check,” he said. Too late, I thought bitterly.

  “‘Keep it in check’? It’s not some commodity for you to peddle!”

  “Easy, Jeff. I’m not your enemy here. I was trying to help both of you get the situation back under our control. Looks like I didn’t have to,” he said. “What the hell were you thinking, anyway, getting involved with Avery?”

  “I wasn’t. It wasn’t planned. It just sort of happened,” I said, not feeling like I needed to justify myself to him any further. “And who are you kidding? You engineered this entire thing. You couldn’t have been disappointed nor surprised to learn that something developed between us.”

  “Oh, I wasn’
t. Far from it. But I was disappointed to learn you were trying to sneak around behind my back about it. Not cool,” he said.

  “But all of the shit you’ve pulled on us behind our backs is?” I asked. “Unbelievable.”

  “Look, I understand you’re upset. I don’t know what happened between you and Avery since I spoke to him, but clearly it didn’t go well. I’m sorry, Jeff. I really am,” he said.

  “You don’t mean it,” I said and he laughed.

  “Clearly, you don’t want to believe anything I say—”

  “Because you haven’t given me a reason to,” I interrupted. “Almost everything that’s come out of your mouth has been a lie from the second you contacted me. Or, let me use your words, an ‘omission of truth.’ For all I know, it was you behind all of this.”

  “Why the hell would I want to cause drama for my own production? Jeff, now you’re just talking crazy,” he said.

  “Then tell me I’m wrong. Look me in the eyes and tell me you had nothing to do with that tabloid, that your fingerprints aren’t on any of it,” I demanded. I might’ve lost Kile, but I could at least make good on one of my promises to him.

  “I didn’t. Jeff, I promise you, swear to whatever God you do or don’t believe in, I didn’t do this.”

  “Then why did you ask Kile to include our relationship in the series? Why didn’t you talk to me about it?”

  “Because I figured the conversation would go an awful lot like the one we’re having now,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “You know, I went out on a limb to hire you, or have you forgotten that? I could’ve left you hanging by your neck like everyone else but I gave you a shot, and this is how you repay me? By accusing me of trying to sabotage and blackmail both you and Avery?” I wanted to believe him, I really did, but I didn’t.