by Jamie Craig
Elijah’s gaze moved from Sam to Gordon. “Thank God. I’m beat.” He wiped the sweat from the back of his neck. “And in need of a shower. Have a good night.”
Sam waved goodbye, though his euphoria plummeted. Elijah was going to go home now, and he was going to have another restless night with only his hand for company. It had been perfect for one split second. Before Gordon came and spoiled it all.
He watched Elijah walk out, wishing beyond anything that he was going with him. Gordon’s voice droned on and on, but Sam was deaf to it. Elijah’s words filled his head.
Chapter 3
By the time Gordon stopped talking, Sam was exhausted. All the adrenaline from the last scene evaporated, leaving him limp, dazed, and wondering whether it was worth it to go back to his trailer and get his things. He’d be back on the soundstage in less than nine hours. Anything that was out there could wait.
Except he was still in costume and he didn’t want to have the headache of explaining to Gordon in the morning that he’d taken it home. So a trip back to the trailer. Then he’d go home.
It shocked him to find out Gordon’s notes had only taken twenty minutes. As he folded the scrap of paper with the director’s scribblings on it, Sam did the math in his head. Elijah had said he was going to take a shower. He never left the lot without one. Even taking into consideration it being short, there was still the time Elijah would need to get to his trailer, get undressed, get dressed again, get out to his car…
Sam quickened his step. Maybe he could catch him if he rushed.
When he reached Elijah’s trailer, it was dark. Swallowing back his disappointment, he knocked on the door. No answer. He knocked again. And a third time, just to be sure, even though a part of him knew he could knock for the next hour and it wouldn’t make a difference. Feeling more deflated than before, he turned back and dragged his feet to his own trailer.
A light was on, but Sam barely noticed it. Not until he pulled the door open, and realized that the small bathroom door was closed as well. And he heard the distinct sound of somebody moving in that tiny space.
The steps he took into the trailer were a mile high. A familiar smell drifted to his nose, and his hand trembled as he closed the door behind him. He didn’t dare speak. As much as he’d drowned in Elijah’s musky scent—both real and fantasy—he wasn’t willing to be wrong.
He reached the bathroom and leaned his head against the door, listening to the water splashing within. It wasn’t a dream. Every throb from the shower pulsed through his skin.
“Eli?” he called out.
“Yeah. Give me a minute.”
The water didn’t shut off for another two minutes. Sam knew, because he counted each passing second, his heart thundering in his ears. As soon as the trailer was plunged into silence, Sam stepped back from the door. When the door finally opened, Eli and steam emerged from the bathroom. With a towel wrapped around his hips.
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t wait to shower. Literally.”
He’d seen Elijah shirtless in a couple of his movies, but the reality surpassed any dream celluloid could create. Water dripped down his muscled chest, racing faster and faster the closer it got to the edge of the terry. Sam wanted—no, needed—to lick them away, to chase after the droplets and catch them on his tongue, feel the heat of that perfect bronzed skin saturate his lips. Under his awed gaze, the dark, flat nipples pebbled even further, the hard peaks taunting him with their proximity.
Sam swallowed. It didn’t do any good. His throat was still too tight and dry. “I didn’t know you were going to use my shower.”
“I wasn’t going to. But that makeup is so itchy once I start sweating. And I thought Gordon would probably keep you.” Elijah closed the space between them, until they were standing toe to toe. “I could have gone to my own shower, but I wanted to wait for you. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Absolutely, positively not.” He skimmed his fingertips over Elijah’s chest, too overwhelmed to control the urge. “God, you’re gorgeous.”
Elijah dipped his head, his lips not quite brushing over Sam’s. “I’ve been thinking about this all day.” They both inhaled, sharing a breath, and then Eli’s mouth was finally touching his. He gripped Sam’s upper arms, pulled him closer, and pushed his tongue past the seam of Sam’s lips.
Ignoring the water, Sam molded their bodies together, wrapping his arms around Elijah’s back in order to return the kiss with everything that he had. He didn’t get this nearly often enough. Living in the limelight meant not letting the public know he preferred men to women. It didn’t matter that it was 1955, or that half of Hollywood was at least bisexual. If Sam wanted release, he usually had to seek it out with strangers. Encounters like that weren’t conducive to intimacy.
Elijah was automatically different. He held Sam like he didn’t want to let go. He kissed like it was the last thing he was ever going to do. He tasted like heat and passion and need, all rolled up in one tightly muscled, beautiful package.
Sam moaned as their tongues twisted together. His fingers grappled with the towel. He despised the fabric separating them. It fell to the floor, and he took the opportunity to finally smooth his palms over Elijah’s perfect ass.
Elijah moaned into Sam’s mouth, and his hard cock pressed against Sam’s thigh. Each flex of Sam’s fingers elicited another moan and a shudder through his muscled body. He was so wrapped up in the effects of each caress and slide of his tongue on Elijah’s body that he didn’t notice when Eli’s hands went to his fly. Not until his zipper was pulled down and his cock freed.
“God, you would not believe what you do to me.” Elijah kissed his jaw. “I’m surprised I got through the shoot at all.”
“Now you know why I was so nervous about you getting the part.” He whimpered when Elijah nibbled at his neck, tilting his head in order to let him do it some more. “I went through our screen test hard as a rock for you.”
He couldn’t see Elijah’s face, but he could feel his smile. “I noticed. And once I noticed, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He slid his palm from the tip of Sam’s cock to the base. “And you were definitely worth thinking about.”
A strangled cry choked in Sam’s throat when Elijah slipped inside his pants in order to cup his balls. It scalded everywhere Elijah touched, and heat crisped along his skin, slithering up his spine.
“I spent half the day thinking about getting my mouth on you,” he confessed. “Do you think that’s going to read onscreen?”
“That’ll certainly add some interesting layers to the conflict between Jack and Will, won’t it?” Elijah’s mouth moved down Sam’s body as he spoke, biting his chest through the tight material of his T-shirt. Even through his clothes, Sam could feel the heat of his mouth, and the promise of more.
“And I guess worst case scenario means we have to do the scenes over again.” He stumbled as Elijah pushed him back against the opposite wall. “Gee, what a hardship.”
Elijah pulled at Sam’s shirt, exposing his ridged stomach to Elijah’s mouth. Elijah held him against the wall with one hand, his palm burning Sam’s chest through the thin material, and scraped his teeth across his taut skin.
“It’d just give me an excuse to spend more time with you.”
“You don’t need an excuse.”
He didn’t know what to do with his hands. Now that Elijah was lower, touching his ass was out of the question. Pushing his shoulders down to put him more on a level with his prick was out, too. He didn’t want to look desperate, after all, even if he really, really was.
Sam settled for caressing the side of his face. It fascinated him anyway, with its strong bone structure, the full mouth. He was sure Elijah could see how hard his heart was pounding, except the other man seemed focused on tasting as much of his skin as possible.
“That’s a sincere offer, by the way,” he added, as the thought occurred to him that Elijah might not realize it. “All you have to do is say the word.”
Elija
h finally dropped to his knees and ran his hands up Sam’s tense thighs. His thumb brushed against the line of Sam’s erection, and the contact drew a low moan from Sam’s throat. He watched as Elijah licked his bottom lip, the small gesture promising more pleasure than anything else the other man had done—including stepping out of Sam’s shower wearing nothing but a towel.
“I know.” His thumb brushed over Sam’s cock again. “I could see it in your eyes. You don’t hide your thoughts well.”
Sam pushed hurriedly at his pants, taking his boxers with them in order to get everything out of Elijah’s way. He shivered at the sudden blast of cool, but the hot hands stroking his skin compensated within seconds.
“I’d ask you to prove it by telling me what I’m thinking now, but I think trying to get naked probably tips you off.”
“A little.” He ran his fingertips from the tip of Sam’s shaft to the base, then gently lifted it, exposing the tender skin and the long vein on the underside. Elijah tilted his head, and then the tip of his tongue danced across his skin. He licked a long path up Sam’s length, then lapped at him again, and again.
His mouth was warm, his breath warmer, but the problem with Sam’s hands was back. At the very first contact, Sam wanted to crumple to his knees, but the wall kept him upright, only its support keeping him from looking like a callow youth. It wasn’t like he hadn’t had mouths on his cock before. He had. Plenty. But Elijah was already different, and Sam wanted nothing more than to grab Eli’s head and bury himself inside the man’s throat.
“Is this…” Sam gasped when Elijah caught the crown between his teeth, holding it in place while his tongue dug into the slit. His palms slapped against the wall behind him, and he squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to quell his ragged breathing. He swallowed. And again. He finally managed, “I thought I’d be the one on my knees. I was practically there the first day on the set.”
Elijah smiled at him with his eyes, but otherwise didn’t respond. Sam expected—hoped—he’d swallow more of Sam’s shaft, but Elijah lavished the sensitive head with attention, using his tongue, his lips, and the sharp tips of his teeth. Elijah slid his hands around the back of Sam’s body, cupping his ass to pull him closer, his fingers kneading the firm flesh.
It was impossible not to clench. The strong massage made him yearn for Elijah to bend him over, to grip his hips and plough into him with the same diligence he gave the blow job. Could he get him to come home with him afterward? They had the same call in the morning. They clearly had the same desires. If Elijah didn’t want to fuck him, Sam would be more than happy to do it instead. Or suck him off, as he’d wanted to do all along. Anything. As long as he got to touch Elijah, taste him, feel his hard body against his. That was all he cared about.
Sam rested his hand on the top of Elijah’s head. He didn’t push, but he did make sure Elijah felt its weight. His fingertips flexed in tandem with each slight bob of his mouth, silently encouraging him to take more, go deeper, take it all until Sam shot down his throat. He’d swallow. Suddenly, Sam was certain of that. The man was a genius at deciphering exactly what Sam wanted.
Elijah’s fingers moved down Sam’s ass, his fingertips grazing Sam’s tight hole. He stiffened and took a step forward, forcing more of his cock past Elijah’s lips. Elijah lingered on the ring of muscle, teasing him, tormenting him, until chills raced under Sam’s skin. He was so distracted by the thought of Elijah sliding a finger—or more—into his passage that he was caught off guard when Elijah swallowed his length.
Sam cried out. He couldn’t form Elijah’s name, or an expletive, or even a please. The heat was overwhelming, the constriction even more so. With his other hand, he cupped Elijah’s face, holding him close as he fought off the urge to explode right there. But the moment he thought he couldn’t bear it, he pulled Elijah back. He didn’t go far. A few inches of wet, hard shaft appeared, Elijah’s lips dragging along it, and Sam promptly drove forward again.
Elijah’s grip tightened, and he moaned as the tip of Sam’s cock pushed against the back of his throat. Sam pushed harder, wanting to feel his tight throat around his shaft. Elijah didn’t resist. He relaxed his jaw and throat, and Sam shuddered at the unspoken invitation. Elijah glanced up with obvious hunger, and Sam thought he could ask for anything he wanted—or take anything he wanted. Nobody had ever looked at him like that.
“Next time, I’m on my knees,” he promised. He stroked in and out, taking his time, savoring each swallow around his cock. “Because there is going to be a next time. There’s going to be a lot of next times, if I have anything to say about it.”
Elijah nodded without pausing, and the finger that had been teasing his pucker moved to cradle his balls. He fondled the heavy sac with firm fingers, gently tugging and pulling as he slid his lips up and down Sam’s shaft. Sam couldn’t look away from the point where Elijah’s lips met his shaft, from the way his damp mouth glistened with each easy slide down his throat.
Elijah’s naked skin gleamed in the trailer’s low light, a few drops of water still rolling down his shoulder, his forehead, and the back of his neck. His erection jutted against his thigh, thick and damp with pre-come.
Sam ran his tongue over his lips. He needed to get Elijah into his shower at home. He was going to lick the man from head to toe, and the sooner he did it, the happier he was going to be.
He released one side of Elijah’s face to drop his hand to his shoulder and massage the tight muscle. Elijah moaned when the massage went lower on his back, and he sank down the shaft, burying his nose in the hair at the base. Fire was already coiling in Sam’s belly, but the vibrations running through him now stoked the flames even higher.
“Won’t last,” he panted. He figured this would be his warning. If Elijah didn’t want to swallow, now was his chance to pull off.
Elijah acknowledged him with another hungry glance and small nod, but he didn’t pull away. He moved faster, his tongue wrapping around Sam’s shaft, his nose exhaling warm air across Sam’s skin when his lips reached the base. Elijah began to moan, or hum, or maybe mumble lines. Sam wasn’t sure. He didn’t care. All that mattered was the vibrations moving through Sam’s shaft and reverberating up into his lower stomach. All of his muscles clenched, his balls throbbing against Elijah’s palm.
His orgasm came with both shattering relief and an exquisite frustration. Sam drove himself into Elijah’s mouth, into his throat, past any form of resistance that he might put up to shoot deep inside him. He shuddered as Elijah swallowed every drop, and while the release scorched through him, he knew it wasn’t going to be enough. This was just a tease, a taste of what was yet to come. Hunger for Elijah still gnawed at his bones. He craved the explosion that would come from being entwined around each other’s bodies. He didn’t even care who was in who.
He just wanted more.
Chapter 4
Sam had wanted to return the favor by pushing Elijah to the floor and going to town on his naked body, and God knew, Elijah wanted to let him. But he hadn’t made it that far in his acting career by being indiscreet, and spending any more time in Sam’s trailer would definitely be indiscreet. If only because Elijah knew he wouldn’t be able to remain silent when Sam finally got his mouth around Elijah’s hard cock.
Elijah forced himself to dress, though he was painfully aware of the fact that Sam never looked away from him. His gaze moved up and down Elijah’s body, deliberately storing away each detail, open appreciation on his face. Elijah had never felt anything like it, as though the frank appraisal could physically caress him. He was used to being stared at, objectified even. It never bothered him, and as evidenced by his chosen career, he sought out that sort of attention. But Sam was different, because he wasn’t just looking at Elijah’s body. He saw something else, somehow.
“Is your place okay?” Elijah asked as he fastened his belt. “I’ve got a roommate.”
Sam caught his wrist when the last of the leather slipped beneath the loops. He pulled Elijah back into hi
s body, cupping the back of his head. His gaze ducked to Elijah’s lips and held there for several seconds. Then he tilted his head. Slowly. Surely. Closed the distance between their mouths with a deliberation that stole Elijah’s breath.
But the kiss wasn’t ravenous, and it wasn’t hard. His lips clung to Elijah’s in an almost sweet caress, while their bodies only barely grazed each other.
And still, it was as scorching as any of their previous contact.
“Tell me you’ll spend the night,” Sam breathed.
Elijah’s hands went to Sam’s hips, and he wondered how he was going to make it all the way to Sam’s place—wherever it was—without touching him. It was important to keep his hands to himself while in public, but he thought Sam would have the power to make him forget that.
“I was hoping you’d say that. Of course, I’ll stay the night.”
Sam brushed his thumb over the skin below his ear, lightly enough for it to send goose bumps down the back of his neck. “Your roommate won’t ask questions?”
“He doesn’t care if I don’t come home at night. As long as I don’t give him any reason to ask, you know?”
“So…this might be something we could repeat then.”
Elijah nodded, surprised and satisfied that Sam was already making plans for later. He didn’t want this to be a one-night stand, though that was the standard. “I think a repeat performance is definitely possible.”
He caught the delighted smile the split second before Sam kissed him again, but this one was fleeting, a tease of what was to come as Sam pulled away.
“My apartment is only about half an hour from here, this late at night,” he said and flashed another grin. “I promise not to run any reds so you won’t lose me on the way over.”
“I’ll wait for you in the parking lot.”
Elijah made sure his hair and clothes were straight before he opened the trailer door. He wished he didn’t have to walk away from Sam. A brief image of the two of them, openly walking together to the same car, flashed in his mind. It was impossible and pointless to think about, but Elijah liked the fantasy, anyway.
