Rebel_Ballsy Boys 1

by K. M. Neuhold

  “So, what’d you think of my family? Did they scare you off?” Rebel asks as we pull into the parking lot of the hotel.

  “Nah, they seem really great. Thanks for inviting me; this has been a lot of fun.”

  “It’s not over yet. You still have to be subjected to my entire extended family tomorrow.”

  “I think I’ll survive,” I assure him with a chuckle.

  Once we’re checked in, we haul our bags up to our room and both flop down on the bed.

  “Oh man, I’m wiped,” Rebel says, punctuating it with a loud yawn to illustrate his point.

  “We didn’t sleep much last night,” I agree with a yawn of my own.

  Rebel tilts his head back and forth and rolls his shoulders a few times before tugging his shirt off and tossing it aside.

  “Are your shoulders stiff?” I ask.

  “A bit. I think it’s from all that time in the car.”

  “Lay on your stomach,” I instruct.

  “Ooo, is this going to be kinky?” Rebel asks with hope.

  “You were about to fall asleep two seconds ago, and now you’re awake enough to mess around?”

  “I’m always up for messing around.”

  “Sorry to disappoint, but I’m going to give you a shoulder massage.”

  “That is the opposite of disappointing.”

  I straddle Rebel’s ass and start working his shoulder muscles with my hands. He lets out deep groan of pleasure as I work out a tricky knot behind his shoulder blade.

  “Keep those noises up and this might turn kinky after all.”

  “Do whatever you want with me, just don’t stop rubbing,” Rebel moans into the pillow.

  “Hey, you know what would feel even better on your muscles? A hot bath.”

  “Only if there’s enough room for both of us in there.”

  I climb off the bed and check the bathroom.

  “Definitely room for both of us,” I call out.

  Less than a second later, Rebel’s arms wrap around my midsection from behind. “I’ll start the water, you get naked.”

  I strip, leaving my clothes in a pile just outside the bathroom. And as soon as the tub is full of hot water and a splash of something that made floral scented bubbles, I climb in and spread my legs for Rebel to sit in front of me. A shiver of pleasure zips over me as our slick skin slips and slides against each other.

  I resume the shoulder massage, not bothering to hide the way his sounds of pleasure affect me.

  After a few minutes, Rebel melts against me, making it difficult to rub his shoulders. So I let my arms go around his waist, and trail my fingers up and down his chest and stomach. I lick a few water droplets off the side of his neck, and a deep rumble of contentment comes from deep in his chest.

  I slip my hand lower and find his thick erection just waiting for my attention. I tease him a little, dragging my index finger from the head of his cock down to his balls and then cupping them in my hand.

  Rebel sucks in a breath as I gently roll his balls in my palm, not in any rush to finish him. I’m more content to play and enjoy his warm, wet body in my arms. It only takes a few minutes for his balls to tighten and his body to start trembling against me. I back off, and he lets out a frustrated grunt.

  “Don’t be mad, I’m just proving how much you taught me in Vegas,” I say, referencing his lesson in edging last night.

  I’ve never been one for delayed gratification, but I have to admit that he was right about how much harder you can come if you hold it off a bit first. When I feel him relax a little, his orgasm no longer right on the edge, I wrap my hand around the base of his cock and give it a slow stroke from root to tip. My return journey is equally as measured. And I repeat the unhurried motion until Rebel is squirming against me, my name falling over and over from his lips in equal parts pleading and curse.

  “Do you want to come?” I ask in a bored voice, and Rebel growls in response and flexes his hips.

  I tighten my fist and jerk him faster while reaching around with my other hand to play with his balls.

  “Fuck, Troy, so good.”

  Rebel’s head lolls back against my shoulder, giving me perfect access to the pulse point in his neck. I bite down, not quite hard enough to leave a mark, but hard enough to make Rebel cry out. His cock pulses in my grasp, and I slow my strokes to milk the cum from him. Rebel shudders and lets out a sigh full of deep satisfaction.

  I kiss the red flesh on his neck where my teeth have bruised him just the slightest bit. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to pass the fuck out.”

  “Mmmm, let’s go to bed,” Rebel agrees.

  We climb out of the tub and towel ourselves off before crawling between the sheets together. Last night, I was too exhausted to think much about sharing a bed with Rebel. But as soon as we’re lying down, Rebel rolls toward me and puts his arms around me; my whole body tenses.

  “Sorry,” Rebel says, immediately pulling back and scooting over to give me a little breathing room.

  “Sorry, I’m not much of a cuddler,” I apologize.

  “S’okay, babe.” Rebel presses a quick kiss to my cheek and then backs off again. “Get some rest. You have a whole clan of crazy to face tomorrow, and you’re going to need your strength.”

  * * *

  I stand in front of the mirror buttoning my shirt and then trying in vain to smooth out every minute wrinkle.

  “Relax, babe.” Rebel appears behind me and presses a quick kiss to the back of my neck.

  I shiver at the intimacy of the gesture, and my heart thuds erratically. “I’m relaxed,” I argue.

  “No, you’re not. That’s okay, though, because it’s cute that you’re so nervous.”

  Rebel puts a hand on my shoulder and turns me to face him. He fiddles with my collar, arranges a few rogue strands of my hair, and then he smiles. My already thundering heart can barely take it. This is too much. It’s too risky.

  “Thanks,” I say, clearing my throat and taking a step back.

  Rebel’s face falls for a second before he recovers with a forced smile. “Don’t mention it; that’s what friends are for. Now, let’s get going, so we don’t miss all the fun.”

  We ride in silence to his parents’ place, and when we get there, I’m floored to see how many cars are lining the street. “You weren’t kidding about this being a big thing.”

  “My parents don’t do anything half-assed.”

  I take a deep breath, and we both climb out of the car and head for the front door.

  Inside, it’s a blur of handshakes and hugs from overzealous family members who don’t realize they don’t even know who I am. It’s warm and happy in a way I’ve never experienced before. And it’s impossible not to get just a little lost in the moment.

  23

  Rebel

  He’s so damn gorgeous. I know I’ve had a little too much to drink, also because of the altitude, so undoubtedly, it’s clouding my judgment. And I’m tired and horny as fuck, so that probably doesn’t help either.

  But dammit, look at him. Look at that perfect man, making my stomach swirl and my hands all clammy. He’s dancing with my cousin Sarah in the sun room, which has been transformed into an impromptu dance floor for the occasion, and he’s being the perfect gentleman to the flustered fourteen-year-old who knows he’s gay, but thinks he’s super-hot anyway.

  I can’t blame her. The blue dress shirt he’s wearing makes his eyes pop. Every time he laughs, he gets these wrinkles around his eyes that are so cute I have to sigh a little. His body is perfectly outlined in the tight shirt, and I can’t take my eyes off his chest and arms as he twirls Sarah. He can’t dance worth shit, but he’s trying for her, and damn if that doesn’t make him even more adorable.

  What the hell is he doing to me? This is more than just the drink and the altitude and being tired from the road trip.

  “You got it bad, brother-mine,” Marley says, plopping down in a chair beside me.

  With effort, I rip my
eyes off the man-candy on the dance floor. “What do you mean?”

  “Your Troy. You’re a goner for him.”

  I huff. “He’s not mine at all, and we’re not serious. I told you, we’re just friends.”

  “Friends don’t stare at one another the way you looked at him just now. Or the way he looks at you when you’re not watching him.”

  All my bravado seeps out of me, and I sigh as I lean back in my chair. “I don’t know how I feel about him. I’ve never felt this way. It’s unnerving.”

  Marley smiles and slings her arm around my shoulder. “I know, Jimmy.”

  I smile at the use of her nickname for me. “Was it like that for you when you met Doug?”

  “God, no. He bored the crap out of me for the first few months I knew him. But after a while, I realized I liked that feeling.”

  I frown. “You like being bored?”

  “I love mom and dad, but they’re not exactly normal—no offense to them. The way they raised us was perfect in many ways, but after all the moving we did and the constant change, I desperately craved stability. Doug is that to me. He’s predictable, safe, dependable, and what seemed boring to me at first is now exactly what I need.”

  “I’m not like that,” I say, still frowning as I’m trying to process what this means to me. Do I want boring? Hell, no.

  “I know, Jimmy. You’re more like mom than you realize. Like her, you’re a free spirit, and you don’t give a fuck what anyone else thinks.”

  “I never did. Until…” I swallow, my throat suddenly constricted. “It’s not easy, you know, with my job. Troy is super cool about it. He was a fan, actually, before we met in real life. He’s never once asked me to quit or consider doing something else.”

  Marley scrunches her nose as she tries to follow my reasoning. “That’s a good thing, yet you make it sound like… Oh, god. You want him to ask you.”

  “It’s stupid, right? But if he really liked me, wouldn’t he ask me to stop doing porn?”

  She shakes her head at me, her eyes soft and kind. “Honey, he’s damned if he does and damned if he doesn’t. If he asks you to quit, he’ll always be the one that held you back in some way. And yet if he doesn’t, you question if he cares enough. You can’t ask him to take on that responsibility. Whether or not you quit porn should be your decision, not his.”

  “I don’t even know if he wants me to. He’s quite the commitment-phobe. Every time I even hint at us being more, he balks.”

  Marley smiles. “Even worse than you? I didn’t think that was possible.”

  “Well, believe me. I have to walk on eggshells here, because if I move too fast, he’ll be out of here faster than you can say Usain Bolt.”

  “What do you want, honey? Do you want to quit?”

  Suddenly, there are tears in my eyes that I can’t explain. “I think I do, though I love working there. Not for the sex, though I still love that part, but the boys, they’re kinda like a family, you know? I’d hate to miss that.”

  Marley pulls me close, and I put my head on her shoulder. “Isn’t there something else you could do for Ballsy Boys beside being an actor? Doesn’t your boss need a right-hand man or something?”

  He does, actually, and I’m it already. In all honesty, I have been doing fewer shoots than I used to, and Bear has been using me more and more for other shit. I still break in newbies, but he also has me consulting on ideas for shoots, assisting him while filming, and coaching new guys through their shoots. It doesn’t pay as much as the shoots in terms of per hour pay, but I make more hours, so it adds up to pretty much the same amount.

  Plus, I really enjoy it, maybe as much as being in shoots. It’s creative, and I love that Bear listens to my suggestions and takes me seriously. Like that idea I had for the shoot with Heart and Brewer, pulling Tank in, Bear loved what I came up with and gave me a percentage of the profits for that video.

  An idea bubbles in my head. The studio is doing really well, and Bear keeps getting more and more busy. What if I propose to him that I want to be his right-hand man for real? Like, full time? There’s certainly enough work, and the studio would definitely benefit if Bear could concentrate on what he’s best at. Would he be open to that?

  A wave of excitement rolls through me, and I smile. I’m onto something here. If Bear says yes, this could mean Troy and I… I’m hesitant to finish that thought. Even if I do get out of shooting porn myself, it doesn’t mean he’ll want me. He’s been pretty damn clear about not wanting a relationship. Hell, I had to practically bribe him with sex to even get him to come here.

  My smile widens. Maybe that’s my best strategy. Persuading Troy with great sex until he realizes he likes me as much as I like him.

  24

  Troy

  The song ends and Sarah is all blushes and stuttered thanks.

  “It was my pleasure,” I assure her. She seems like a sweet kid.

  All of Rebel’s family is really cool, actually. It’s weird as hell in a kind of nice way. The warmth and love filling the house is causing a strange aching pain in my chest. And every time I look over at Rebel—apparently in the middle of a serious conversation with his sister—the ache gets deeper, fuller.

  I swallow against the thick lump in my throat. I have the inexplicable urge to walk over to Rebel and slip my hand into his. But, why the hell would I do that? Holding hands isn’t something I’ve ever wanted to do. I mentally mock people who hold hands. Don’t they know they’re on the road to heartbreak? No one stays forever. If there’s one thing life has taught me, it’s that.

  No, I don’t need to hold Rebel’s hand. I need to enjoy all the hot sex and have fun while it lasts.

  “Troy, would you mind giving me a quick hand in the kitchen?” Rebel’s mom, Susan, asks me, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder.

  “Of course.”

  “So, you and Hendrix seem close,” she comments once we’re in the kitchen.

  I flounder for a second, trying to think of how to respond as she turns to the refrigerator and starts to pull out a few trays of desserts. What does close mean? Is this going to be a don’t hurt my child speech? Is this a when’s the wedding speech? Or is she just making conversation?

  “I guess?” I finally answer with obvious uncertainty in my tone.

  “Relax, I’m not trying to grill you,” she assures me with a laugh. “Hendrix is a good boy. He was always a good boy. Don’t get me wrong, he was a handful when he was young. But he was always loving and generous. I know he’s grown into a good man, too. I like seeing the smile on his face when he looks at you. And I like that you seem to accept him for who he is and what he does.”

  Her words strike at the ache in my chest, intensifying it. What is that?

  “I don’t mind what Hendrix does for a living. And he is a very good man,” I agree.

  Without warning, her arms wrap around me, and I freeze. It’s stupid, but when I was little and bouncing around foster homes, I always wondered what it felt like to be hugged by a mom. It seemed like it would be so warm and comforting. Sometimes, I would close my eyes tight and try to imagine it, try to conjure what the sensation could possibly be. It never came close to what it feels like right now to have Susan hugging me tight. I can feel the love she has for Rebel pouring out of her. She loves him so much that I can almost believe she cares about me by extension.

  When she releases me, there’s a tight, burning behind my eyes and an even bigger lump in my throat than before. I knew coming here with Rebel would be dangerous. It’s making me yearn for things I learned as a child aren’t meant for me.

  She hands me two of the trays of food and nods me toward the living room. I force my emotions under control and follow her out.

  “Are you okay?” Rebel asks after I’ve set out the desserts where Susan directed me.

  “Of course,” I lie.

  Rebel narrows his eyes at me and then takes my arm and leads me toward the stairs. He takes me to a bedroom right at the top of the steps th
at I have no doubt was his as a kid. There are a few dusty sports trophies on a shelf and posters still on the wall. His parents kept his room how he left it. Another wave of emotion washes over me.

  “I can tell you’re freaking out; what’s going on?” Rebel asks again now that we’re alone.

  “This is a lot, that’s all.”

  Rebel’s eyebrows furrow. “Do you want to leave? We can go back to the hotel if you want.”

  “No, we came for your parents’ anniversary. We’re not going to miss it. I told you on the way here that I don’t need to be coddled,” I grumble. “I’m good at being alone. One day, you’ll be gone, and it’ll just be me again, and I’ll be fucking fine.”

  I wince as the words leave my lips. They’re too harsh, but they’re also like a shield, protecting my heart from Rebel.

  Undeterred by my outburst, Rebel wraps his arms around me and pulls me against him. I can feel my body vibrating at his touch, too many emotions overwhelming me at once until they start to spill over as frustrated tears.

  “You’re not alone anymore. We’re friends, and I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Yes, you will,” I argue, disgusted by the flair of hope his words cause in the pit of my stomach. “You’ll leave like everyone else.”

  I try to push him away, but he hangs on tighter. “I know I’m not about to convince you that I’m not going anywhere, so I guess I’ll just have to show you. And, in the meantime, we can keep doing what we do best.”

  Rebel tilts my chin up so my face isn’t buried against his neck anymore, and his lips devour mine with a hungry desperation. Relieved to be back on familiar footing, I part my lips and thread my fingers into his hair, kissing him back with urgency. Rebel groans against my lips and presses his hard length against mine.