To My Future Number 1 Fan

by L. A. Witt

  Adam rocked his hips, and I got the hint and started moving my own. Slowly at first. Then faster. Harder. Adam broke the kiss and dropped back onto the mattress, eyes squeezed shut and features taut like he was on the verge of tears. As I picked up speed, he wisely kept a protective hand over his cock and balls. He used the other to grip the back of my neck so hard it hurt, and he sounded like he really was about to cry as he whispered, “Oh yeah… holy fuck…”

  “Like that?”

  “Ungh… baby…” He opened his eyes, and God, they had welled up, and now they were fixed on me and so damn beautiful. His voice shook as he said, “You feel so good.”

  “Just… just tell me if you want…” I shivered. “Harder. Or… anything.”

  Adam’s eyes slid closed again as he shook his head. “No. This is perfect.”

  “Yeah it is.” I’d found a smooth rhythm, and if it felt half as good for him as it did for me, I could see why he had tears in his eyes. As it was, I didn’t know how long I could keep going before I came; two weeks of anticipation plus the ridiculously hot view laid out in front of me meant that holding back was just not going to happen.

  Adam moaned again, and he tightened around me. I glanced down and realized the hand protecting his cock and balls was now stroking, keeping perfect time with my hips. His breathing changed too, coming in shorter, shallower gasps as the flush in his skin crept down his neck and onto his chest. I could barely breathe myself. Watching him inching closer to the edge was beyond hot, especially knowing I was the one driving him there.

  “Oh fuck,” I said shakily. “You’re gonna come, aren’t you?”

  He nodded slowly, biting his lip. The muscles in his arm rippled as he pumped his dick, and he was so tight now I knew I wouldn’t be far behind him when he came.

  “That is so hot,” I said through my teeth as I struggled to maintain my rhythm. “Jesus, Adam.”

  He arched again, and the helpless sound that escaped his lips had me gasping for breath. “D-don’t… stop…” His eyes flew open, and the cords stood out on his neck and all his muscles were tense. He stared up at me with wide, desperate, tear-filled eyes. “Oh… God…”

  And then cum streaked his six-pack, and I gave up any semblance of trying to stay in control. I fucked him hard as we both cried out and trembled and came, and I kept going until I couldn’t move anymore. Couldn’t hold myself up anymore. With a sigh, I sank down onto him, and Adam wrapped his shaking arms around me. I managed to pull out, but that was as far as I got, and just buried my face against his neck as I tried to catch my breath.

  Adam stroked my hair with unsteady fingers. “In case it wasn’t obvious,” he whispered, “I’m really glad you’re here.”

  “Yeah.” I pressed a kiss to his feverish skin. “Me too.”

  ~*~

  We didn’t leave Adam’s bedroom until almost ten the next morning. We were awake well before then, but a couple of lazy handjobs and some long, indulgent cuddling kept us in his bed for a while. Fine by me.

  When we finally dressed and came out to get some coffee and breakfast, I got my first look at Adam’s house. I’d been aware when we’d pulled in last night that it was fairly small. Not one of those giant, opulent mansions actors and musicians always seemed to prefer.

  It was a single level with a large living room in the middle, the kitchen on one end, garage on the other, and the bedroom off to one side. The whole place seemed to be shaped like a gently curving crescent, and along one side of the house were enormous windows with the most spectacular view of Topanga Canyon and the glittering Pacific. The house was on the lip of the canyon with a small yard behind it, and from there, it was steep, rugged hills covered in what I assumed were hardy desert plants like the cactus beside his deck. I couldn’t see any neighbors from here, so it was almost like he had the entire canyon all to himself.

  I whistled as I looked out the kitchen window. “This view is amazing.”

  “Right?” He glanced up from pouring coffee. “I wasn’t sure about the house at first, but one look at the view and I was sold.”

  “It’s a nice house, too, though.”

  “It is, and I like it.” He handed me a cup of coffee. “But I was looking at a few others at the same time, and wasn’t married to it yet.” He smiled as he poured some milk in his coffee. “Just wait till you see the sunset.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  “Maybe we can watch it from there tonight.” He nodded toward the backyard, and when I craned my neck, I saw the hot tub shaded by a couple of trees.

  “I like the sound of that,” I said.

  We finished polluting our coffees, and then went out onto his back deck. Like the rest of the house, it was relatively small, but there was plenty of room for a table and four chairs. We sat down, and I took in a deep breath of the fresh air. Couldn’t quite smell the ocean from here, but the air still smelled good with all the plants and without a constant note of car exhaust.

  I sipped my coffee. “For some reason, I figured you lived in the city.”

  Adam wrinkled his nose. Lounging back in his chair, he gazed out at the canyon. “Got sick of that when I was still working at the diner. Very first thing I did when I had some real money was rent an apartment someplace quieter. Once I’d really made it, I hightailed it out here and never looked back.”

  “Quite a commute, though, isn’t it?”

  He shrugged. “It is, but it’s worth it. If I’m working really long hours on a film, I’ll either get a hotel room or a short-term lease on an apartment. Or crash with a friend. The rest of the time? I’m back here. Way quieter.” He looked around, as if taking in the sight of his house and the canyon for the first time. “They’ll never film one of those shows here where some celebrity shows off his house, but it’s mine and I like it.”

  “As well you should. It’s gorgeous.” I took another swallow of coffee. “I can’t imagine you’d want someone filming one of those shows here anyway. It’s one thing having someone get in your face in public, but cameras in your house?” I shuddered.

  Adam nodded, eyes fixed on me. “Yeah. It’s, um, bad enough how much they sniff around in my private life.”

  My stomach twisted. “You do get used to that after a while, right?”

  He dropped his gaze to his coffee and chewed his lip. Then, with a sigh, he looked out at the canyon. “I’m not going to blow smoke up your ass and tell you it gets easy. It gets… less surprising, I guess? You know they’re out there, and you kind of learn to roll your eyes when they make shit up or whatever.” He slid his gaze toward me. “Which I guess is a way of saying that if it bothers you, you’re not alone.”

  Well, that was encouraging. It was good to know I wasn’t just overreacting. I sighed and set my coffee on the table. “It… okay, yeah, it does bother me. And it’s weird not being able to tell my friends about us.”

  Adam cocked his head. “You’re not telling them?”

  “Not yet.” I thumbed the handle on my coffee cup. “They saw the pictures, and they grilled me about what it’s like hanging out with you, and if we actually are dating.” Staring into my coffee, I quietly said, “For now, I just tell them we’re friends. I’m… I trust them, you know? Not to go running to the press or something? But I’m still…” I sighed, not even sure how to finish the thought.

  “I get it,” Adam said, barely whispering. “It’s so easy for stuff like that to slip out. I’m just sorry it’s making things weird with your friends.” He paused. “Do they know you’re here?”

  “They think I’m visiting my parents. And I do come down here a couple of times a year to see them, so no one bats an eye.”

  “That’s good. Still.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I’ll tell them eventually.” I lifted my gaze to meet his. “I still feel like the attention shouldn’t bother me this much, though. I mean, it’s not like the press said anything bad, you know?” I laughed dryly. “There are worse things to be accused of t
han dating you.”

  Adam laughed too, but it didn’t last. “I can’t decide if I’m glad someone did this now, or if I wish they’d waited a bit longer to catch on.”

  I studied him. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean…” He stared out at the canyon again, eyes unfocused. After a while, he put his coffee cup down beside mine and turned to me. “On one hand, if we’re going to see each other, maybe it’s not a bad thing for you to get a taste of it now. So you can decide if it’s a deal-breaker or not.” He swallowed, then touched my arm. “On the other, I wish they’d given me more time to convince you we’re doing something that’s worth putting up with all that.”

  I blinked, startled by his candor. Resting my hand on top of his, I said, “You don’t have to convince me of anything.”

  Adam searched my eyes.

  “I’m serious.” I squeezed his hand. “I knew media attention was par for the course before you came to see me. I knew that when we started making out on the beach. Yeah, it bothers me, and yeah, it’s hard to deal with, but I’m here, aren’t I?”

  “Yeah, you are.” He looked down at our hands. “To be honest, I’ve been worried ever since that article came out. Before you landed last night, I was pretty much making myself sick freaking out and thinking you’d bail.” He sighed, shoulders sagging. “Not that I’d have blamed you.”

  “Dude. No.” I turned my chair so we were facing each other. “I won’t pretend I like the media attention, but I’m not going anywhere unless you want me to.”

  He met my eyes through his lashes. “I don’t want you to.”

  I smiled and touched his face. “Then we’re good.”

  He held my gaze, and after a moment, a smile came to life and some of the tension in his posture eased. “Okay. Good. And I mean, it doesn’t help that I’ve never done this before. I have no idea what I’m doing, or what we’re doing, or…” He sighed, shaking his head. “Having all that media bullshit doesn’t help, you know?”

  “Yeah. I know.” I caressed his cheek. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t know what we’re doing either.”

  Adam’s forehead creased. “Really?”

  “Really. For all either of us know, we’ll get tired of each other in a couple of weeks or a couple of months.” I shrugged. “Or we’ll end up moving in together by Christmas. It’s just too early to know.”

  That melted away some more tension in his face. “Oh. So… we kind of make it up as we go?”

  “Exactly.” I took his hand again. “There’s no real telling what it is, but we can narrow it down as we go by figuring out what it isn’t.”

  “How does that work?”

  “Well, we’re not just friends anymore. As we go along, we might decide it’s not just sex. Or maybe it is.” I shrugged again and reached for my coffee. “Or maybe we don’t want to be exclusive, or we don’t want any kind of commitment. It works itself out over time as long as we stay on the same page.”

  “Oh.” He seemed to chew on that for a long moment. In silence, we drank our cooling coffee, and I finished mine before he spoke again. “I’m, uh… how does it work with being exclusive?”

  “How do you mean?”

  Adam drained his cup and put it beside mine. “Is that like asking someone for a serious commitment? Something you don’t do this early in the game?”

  I shook my head. “No. To tell you the truth, I almost always want to be exclusive right off the bat. I’m not territorial or jealous or anything, I just like it that way.”

  He searched my eyes again. “Almost always? Like… including now?”

  My stomach knotted. We were pretty good so far at talking about things candidly, but conversations like this could turn into minefields in a hurry. “I’m pretty much wired for monogamy. Some guys aren’t. I know this is new for you, and we’re doing the long distance thing, so if you want to keep your options open, I totally—”

  “No, it’s not that.” He shifted in his chair, dropping his gaze. “I’m… I guess…” He exhaled hard. “I don’t even know. I don’t know how any of this works, but I do know that I’m not interested in anyone else. And I’m…” That tension was working its way back into his face and shoulders.

  I leaned forward and put a hand on his knee. “Tell me. The more we get out on the table, the more we can make sure we’re on the same page.”

  He covered my hand with his, and gulped. “I don’t think I’m comfortable with either of us being with other guys. While we’re…” He looked in my eyes. “While we’re doing this.”

  “Okay. Then let’s call it exclusive.” I smiled. “If we want to change the rules later, we can.”

  “Oh. Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  And once again, the tension melted away. He laughed, blushing as he dropped his gaze again. “I must sound like such a clueless idiot.”

  “You’re not clueless. You’re inexperienced. There’s a difference.” I tipped up his chin so I could see his eyes. “Just talk to me, okay? If there’s something you want or you don’t want?”

  Adam nodded, his shy smile coming back to life. “I will.”

  “Okay. So will I.” I moved to the edge of my seat and leaned in for a kiss. He closed the rest of the distance, and I hoped our long, soft kiss was as reassuring for him as it was for me. No, we didn’t know where this was going or what all the rules would ultimately be. No, I didn’t know yet how to deal with the media hounding us. No, he didn’t know firsthand how relationships played out.

  But we had this. As long as we talked to each other and paid attention to each other’s signals, we could totally do this.

  And I had zero problem with things being exclusive this early in the game. Not just because I preferred it that way in general, but because I’d pretty much forgotten other men even existed.

  Going exclusive wasn’t too much to ask when the only man in the world was Adam.

  Chapter 23

  Adam

  “Holy shit.” Brian gazed out my kitchen window at the horizon. “You weren’t kidding about the sunsets.”

  “Right?” I handed him a glass of wine and glanced at the sky, which was starting to change colors as the sun inched toward the Pacific. “I’d have paid twice the price for this place just for that.” In a stage whisper, I added, “Don’t tell my realtor.”

  Brian chuckled.

  I picked up the bottle and led him out the sliding glass door. The hot tub was bubbling quietly, the cover already removed, and I set the bottle and my glass on the table beside it. He took a sip, then put his down too. We exchanged grins, and without a word, stripped out of our shorts and T-shirts. We left them on a chair, safely away from the tub so they didn’t get splashed, and got into the water.

  “Oh, that’s perfect,” he purred as he eased himself down into the hot water.

  “Good. I never know what temperature other people like, and I like it really hot.”

  “Fine by me.” He sat back against the edge, submerged up to his collarbones. “Just, uh, don’t expect anything until I’ve cooled off a bit.”

  “Duly noted.” I scooted in next to him, and he put his arm around my shoulders. Truth be told, I didn’t mind holding off on sex for a little while. As much as I loved everything we did in the bedroom, I’d secretly been fantasizing about this too—sitting together, naked and cuddled up in the hot tub, watching the sun go down while we sipped wine and just hung out. If the wine and the heat meant neither of us were game for anything until later? Oh well.

  Brian reached back and picked up our glasses. He brought them around, handed mine to me, and we drank in comfortable silence for a few minutes. This kind of thing came easy for us—enjoying each other’s company even during a lull in conversation. Earlier today, we’d wandered down one of the trails into the canyon so I could show him some of the other cool views. Part of the time, we’d chatted about whatever—jobs, TV shows, his adorable dog. Occasionally, the conversation would fade away, but it never felt awkward or
like I desperately needed to find something to fill the silence. Just being with him was enough.

  Now, lounging in my hot tub with a stunning SoCal sunset starting in front of us, it was the same. I liked it. I loved how we could move so effortlessly between conversation and silence, just like how we could easily go back and forth from hanging out to burning up the sheets. He was like the best of all worlds.

  Please, God, I thought for the millionth time today, don’t let me screw this up.

  I took another swallow of wine. This was the second bottle we’d gone through since dinner a couple of hours ago, and I had a nice buzz going, so I put the glass aside. Brian drained his and put it down too. With our hands free and no need to worry about dropping a glass in the water, we cuddled closer. I rested my head against his shoulder and he encircled me in his arms. Between the warmth, the water, and the wine, I was so comfortable now I could almost drift off. I didn’t think I’d ever really known what it was like to be this relaxed.

  As the sun kissed the water and lit up the ocean in glittering shades of orange and red, my mind backtracked over the last several weeks. It was hard to believe how quickly Brian had gone from a fleeting encounter in the past to… this. God knew where we’d go from here, but it was crazy to imagine how much I would have missed if things had happened differently at the Filmmaker Awards. And how easily they could have happened differently.

  Before I could stop myself, I broke the silence: “Remember my speech at the Filmmaker?”

  Brian kissed my temple. “How could I forget? Kind of turned my life on its head.”

  “Yeah, mine too.” I lifted my chin and kissed under his jaw. “You want to know what happened right after that speech?”

  “Sure.”

  I tucked my head against his again and fixed my gaze on the setting sun. “I went backstage and puked.”