Weekend Boyfriend

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Weekend Boyfriend Page 6

by KyAnn Waters


  Asher stood still. He’d seen Joel without a shirt, seen him in a pair of underwear, but he’d never seen his dick. Never seen him nude, confident and secure in his body. He was hot, hotter than Asher’s fantasies. And he had more fantasies starring Joel than Matt Damon in the Bourne movies. And those were practically porn to him.

  Joel tied the belt. “At lease we won’t have to worry about Melina or Sarah asking if we want a happy ending after our scrubs and massages.” Along the wall, there was a cart with glasses and a pitcher of water. Joel poured a drink.

  Asher lifted his shirt over his head. Emotions rolled through him. He couldn’t tell if Joel was truly upset or if he found the situation comical. Normally, Asher could read Joel’s moods, but this one, not knowing what he’d think of them together, meant too much to Asher. He didn’t know how to respond. Should he finally tell Joel how he felt, or cover it with jokes the way he always had?

  “I’m sure they’ll expect us to be giving each other our happy ending.”

  “I’m sure you’re right.” Joel guzzled more water.

  Asher shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t worry about that. I was just teasing when I told you you’d have to suck my dick. With my hand, I can take care of myself.”

  “After last night, I’ve got a pretty clear image of that.”

  Holy shit. Did he watch? Asher’s cock stretched. He couldn’t drop his shorts or Joel would know he had an erection.

  Joel continued talking while Asher wrestled with what to do.

  “And by the time this vacation is over, you’ll owe me.”

  If only those words were a genuine offer. Fuck it. He dropped his shorts. His cock, thick, long and hard bounced against his groin.

  “Asher.” Joel laughed nervously and spun away. “I’m going to start thinking you do want me.” He snatched his bag of clothes off the wall.

  But as he strode past Asher, Joel’s robe gaped. “What the fuck. You’re giving me a rash of shit when you have a hard-on. Am I turning you on?” Please say yes.

  “Yes, I’m overrun with desire. Take me now. Oh, wait, never mind. Shelly let me tap her ass once. Big mistake. She wouldn’t fuck me again for a month.”

  “Oh, god, please don’t bring Shelly into our relationship.” He gathered his clothes and stuffed them into the bag. “The bitch can spoil a perfectly romantic moment.”

  Joel raised one brow and nodded. “You have no idea. I want to kick my own ass when I remember all the shit she pulled. Why did I put up with that? What was I thinking?”

  Asher loosened the belt and approached the tables. “You were thinking with your dick.”

  “I might agree with you if our sex life had been good. It wasn’t.”

  Knowing Joel’s relationship with Shelly sucked should’ve made him feel better, but it didn’t. Joel deserved to be happy. He deserved the best. That probably wasn’t Asher, but he was selfish. He wanted Joel for himself.

  The door opened. Two women entered with a male assistant. He rolled a cart into the room and positioned it near the tables. The women spoke to him in Spanish. He nodded, grabbed Joel’s and Asher’s bags of clothes and adjusted several dials on the wall on his way out. As the door closed, soothing lavender mist billowed from vents above the tables. Water trickled like a babbling brook behind the tropical plants, and the room grew warmer.

  The women laid towels on the tables. “Sir.” One of them indicated for Asher to get on the table. “Your robe.”

  “Ready?” Asher asked Joel as he slipped off his robe.

  “I guess.” Joel dropped his robe. He was still hard. Joel’s cock wasn’t as big as his, but it was thick and heavy. The head was dark and the slit deep. A drop of pearly essence glistened at the tip.

  Asher swallowed, shrugged from his robe and positioned prone on the table. Bending his arms, he pillowed his hands under his cheek. The tables were staggered, his slightly in front of Joel’s. With a subtle glance back, he watched as Joel climbed onto his table. He lifted his head and for a moment, their eyes met. Joel smiled, slipped a hand under his groin and repositioned his cock.

  Soft warm water cascaded over him. Asher took a deep breath. The sounds soothed. The scents of the sea and lavender relaxed. The warm water was replaced by a warm mist. The woman opened jars on the table. Digging her fingers into one of the wide-mouth jars, she scooped up a shiny mixture of salt and oils. She didn’t speak as she started at Asher’s feet. Her strong fingers worked the gritty scrub into his skin, rubbing his heal, instep and toes.

  Joel moaned from the other table.

  “Feel good?”

  “Oh, my god.” Joel groaned again.

  Asher glanced back to Joel. The woman ran her hands along the inside of his legs. Joel’s buttocks tightened as he thrust his hips against the table. Her fingers pushed into his flesh, drawing up the hamstring and along the crease of his buttocks. Small circles worked the mixture into his flesh until it glistened. Muscles flexed then relaxed as she used her palm and fingers over Joel’s ass.

  “Relax,” the woman scrubbing Asher whispered. Her hands caressed his calves, his legs, but his ass and inner thighs weren’t getting the treatment Joel’s were.

  Joel’s ass arched higher. Was the woman giving him a hand job? Asher leaned up to get a better look at exactly how close to the goods her hands were venturing.

  “Sir, is something wrong?”

  Asher dropped back to the table. “No, you’re doing fine.” Although her partner seemed to be doing too good of a job judging by the moans coming from the other table. She was practically touching Joel’s dick.

  Slippery, oiled fingers slid between Asher’s ass cheeks. “Ah.” He moaned as she firmly gripped his ass and scrubbed him with more of the oils. Asher rested his forehead on the table and widened his thighs just a little. The woman’s fingers slid between his legs. His dick jumped, the weight of his body pressing him firmly against the towel beneath him. Pressure built in his balls.

  He closed his eyes as she scrubbed his hips, back, and ran her palms along the ladder of his spine. Her hands were firm yet feminine. But it was Joel’s moans sending Asher into an erotic torture. Asher wanted to be the cause of that rasping heaviness.

  “Ah, that feels good.”

  Asher shifted his gaze to see why Joel was feeling so good. The woman had a spigot. Water flowed over Joel’s legs. She moved it slowly higher, rinsing the oily salt from his buttocks, back and shoulders. Water slicked his skin, drenched the towels draping the table, and cascaded onto the tile floor. Steam filled the room.

  “If you’ll turn onto your stomach.”

  Joel lifted his head, his gaze locked with Asher’s. “Turn over?”

  She nodded and handed the hose to her partner. Now it was Asher’s turn for rinsing. His muscles melted as the water flowed over his legs. Still, he watched Joel.

  “I’ll cover you.” The woman lifted the edge of a water-soaked towel in the center of the table.

  Joel quickly flipped onto his back and the woman draped the towel over his groin…but not before Asher glimpsed his hard, flushed cock.

  He dropped his forehead to the table. This was his brilliant idea. As much as Joel’s body turned him on, he could only take so much. His own cock throbbed. He hated having a hard-on and not being able to do anything about it. Fuck, he needed to come. But not with the women in the room. He needed Joel alone.

  That was more fantasy than reality. What would he do, grip his dick and beat off? Joel had made it clear last night had pissed him off. Well, maybe pissed wasn’t the right word. But Joel hadn’t seemed thrilled with the idea of Asher getting off and even less thrilled knowing Asher had been naked while they were in bed together. But they were naked together now, and Joel was definitely enjoying the woman’s touch. The wet towel molded to his cock, the shape, thickness and length in perfect relief.

  “Your turn,” his technician said.

  Asher rolled to his back and she draped a soaked towel over his cock. He closed his eyes as sh
e worked his legs, barely slipping her fingers beneath the towel to reach his upper thigh. He chewed the inside of his cheek, almost unable to enjoy the scrub…almost. It still felt good, but his focus was on Joel and the stretched hardness of his own cock.

  The woman scrubbed his chest and shoulders. He sighed, relaxed his tense muscles and breathed through his nose. Inhale. Exhale. Think of anything but Joel, naked on the table next to you.

  “The shower is ready,” the other woman spoke to Joel.

  Asher opened his eyes. Joel leaned up on his elbows and turned toward the archway leading to the shower room. “So we’re done?”

  “You’ll have fifteen to twenty minutes before your massage. Although if you’d like more time alone together, that wouldn’t be a problem. Many couples ask for additional time.” The woman dried her hands and put lids on the salts and oils on the cart.

  As he sat, Joel kept the wet towel draped over his groin. “Thanks.” Joel smiled at the woman. “You have great hands.”

  Asher bristled. Joel was flirting. She certainly did have wandering hands. Maybe they’d like to have a few minutes alone.

  Joel stood from the table and strode to the shower room. The wet towel clung to his hips and buttocks. Water trickled along the back of his thighs. While his shoulders weren’t broad, his torso tapered to a trim waist. Joel was fit, his body toned and hard in the right places. At least he’d been hard when he’d been on the table.

  “When you’re ready, put on your robes and open the door. We’ll take you to the massage room.”

  Asher hadn’t realized he was finished. The two women left. Asher turned toward the shower room. Steam billowed from the opening. Asher slid from the table and wrapped his towel around his waist. Joel would appreciate his discretion considering he was still sporting a boner.

  Asher paused at the threshold. Mist surrounded Joel. He stood at the far side of the shower—nude—with his back to Asher. Spray surged from all six showerheads. Joel’s head bowed, one arm braced against the wall.

  Asher dropped his towel and entered the shower. He didn’t speak, maybe because of the stillness, because of Joel’s quiet strength. But he felt as if he was intruding on a private moment. He stepped beneath the sprays and titled his face up.

  But the temptation to stare at Joel was too great. The curve of his spine, the dimples above his ass and the lean musculature of his legs. Asher turned to the side for a glimpse.

  Joel stood beneath the spray, back stiff and muscles flexed. His head was still bowed, staring at the hand he had wrapped around his dick. Asher’s pulse spiked. His gut clenched and fiery heat sizzled over his flesh.

  Joel wasn’t stroking the shaft. He didn’t move, didn’t seem to breathe. He just fisted his cock.

  What did Asher say? After last night, he was afraid to joke about masturbation. But fuck he wanted to watch Joel pleasure himself. “You okay?”

  Joel shook his head but didn’t speak the words. Was he waiting for permission? Or did he just want to be left alone? He slowly lifted his head. His lips were slightly parted and water clung to his lashes. Intensity radiated from his smoldering eyes. He focused on Asher, but Asher could feel the uncertainly coming off him in waves.

  Without pausing to consider his actions, Asher gripped his own cock. He stared into Joel’s eyes—eyes that haunted his fantasies. Intense green with thick lashes. Eyes he wanted to stare into as the man he loved fucked him for the first time. That might never happen. This, right now, was more than Asher believed possible.

  Asher slowly pumped his fist. He didn’t wait for permission. Didn’t wait to be told no. Slightly bending his knees, he leaned against the tiled wall and stroked his dick, just the way he liked, a gentle grip and a quick stroke.

  Joel’s gaze drifted lower. A moment passed, his stare fixed on Asher’s hand gliding to the tip, grazing the head then slipping down the length. Asher watched Joel’s eyes, focused on the pattern of his breathing, the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed. They were only a few feet apart, yet Asher felt the heat of Joel’s stare as intimately as the caress of his hand.

  The water was hot, the situation hotter. Joel tentatively gripped his cock, obviously still debating whether he could masturbate in front of another man.

  “Joel—”

  Not responding, Joel shook his head, lowered his gaze, and visibly released a breath. With a firm grip, he worked his hand up and down his shaft. Fuck, the man was hot. Water sluiced over his head and streamed down his body. His long fingers circled the girth. The head swelled, deepening in color. Veins threading the shaft plumped and darkened. The skin was stretched taut and his balls tightened and flexed with each stroke.

  Asher rubbed his chest and circled his nipples. Cum churned in his balls, building toward release. His cock pulsed beneath his palm as he pumped his fist. Muscles in his arms bunched. Heat radiated out from his core, engulfing him in erotic power. He was high on lust.

  He quickened his pace. Faster. The lightest touch to bring him the most pleasure. But it was having Joel with him pushing him over the edge. “Ah, fuck.” He stared at Joel’s cock and a euphoric numbness swam in his head. He lifted his gaze to Joel’s face as the first wave of release jolted through him. Hard pulses shot through his dick. Heat streaked along his spine and his knees weakened. Jets of white cream splashed over his fingers and blended with the steaming water of the shower.

  “Ahh.” Joel squeezed his dick and nearly doubled over. Cum erupted from his cock. Pulse after pulse bathed his chest, hand and abdomen. But he never looked away from Asher. They stared across the few feet of space, breathing hard and spent.

  And then Joel smiled.

  Asher relaxed, stood straighter and dipped his head under the water. When, or if Joel wanted to talk, he’d have to speak the first words. At least, the tension eased—both in Asher’s body and in his mind. He turned his back to Joel, pumped a few squirts of shampoo from the dispenser on the wall and washed his hair. After the scrub and the orgasm, all with Joel, he felt…sated. His lips stretched into a smile. Whatever Joel was feeling, Asher hoped it felt just as good.

  The crack of a towel sounded a split second before Asher felt the sting against his ass. “What the—” He rinsed his hair and turned to Joel.

  “Hurry up, time for our massages.”

  Chapter Five

  Joel stretched out his legs, adjusted his sunglasses and took a long sip of his mojito. “I’m glad we opted for sun and sand rather than robes and hemp drinks.” He burrowed his toes into the warm, white sand. Although they’d been offered to relax in the arbor area of the spa and have a healthy smoothie, Asher had suggested booze and surf were a better way to relax. He’d been right. Maybe they’d just had a few too many intimate glances after the shower.

  Joel still couldn’t believe what he’d done. But he didn’t regret it. Knowing Asher the way he did, Joel knew he’d be okay with sharing a shower. It wasn’t as if they touched. Why then did Joel feel as if he’d done so much more than touch himself?

  The tattoo of his heartbeat spiked. Light, nervous energy surged through him. Yeah, it was hot, not just the steam, but the whole afternoon. The scrub felt great, but it was Asher, with his don’t-give-a-fuck attitude, said what he wanted, and did what he wanted, fuck the consequences and fuck anyone with an opinion that got to him.

  While in the spa, Joel had understood the freedom of not giving a shit. But this was Mexico. Hell, since walking into his stripped apartment, he hadn’t felt like he was living his own life. Girlfriend gone. Boyfriend fantasy. Vacant house, yet his best friend was ready to move in. He took another long drink of his mojito. “I’m going to need another.” He shook the ice cubes in his empty glass.

  “So our last night in Cabo, baby. What do you want to do?”

  Images of Asher—naked—flitted through his mind. Oh, there were numerous things he could think of doing, but would never have the balls to initiate. A smile curled his lips.

  “Whatever you’re thinking, the
answer is yes.”

  Heat crept up Joel’s neck.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “Nothing,” he said and stood, “except getting another drink.” Joel headed toward the grass-roofed cabana. Asher followed him.

  Several bartenders opened beers and mixed drinks. Salsa music pumped through the speakers. “Do you want a drink?”

  “You have to ask?” Asher rolled his eyes.

  “I guess not.” Joel lifted his glass and held up two fingers. The bartender nodded.

  Asher came up close behind him. “Just so you know,” he whispered. “You don’t have to ask for anything.” He spoke louder, losing the tone of intimacy. “It’s our last night, and I’m game for anything. What happens in Mexico stays in Mexico.”

  “That’s the theme for Vegas.”

  “Applies here, too.”

  “So what are our options?” Joel picked up their mojitos and handed one to Asher.

  “The options are endless. The club we were at last night, or we can catch a cab and go resort hoping.” Asher shrugged as they walked away from the bar. “I’m sure we can find a bit of trouble just about anywhere.”

  “Oh, my god.” Joel put his hand on Asher’s arm, stopping him. “Look.”

  “Fuck, they’re waving.” The girls from the club approached. “Here they come.” And they were smiling, wearing bikini tops and sarongs wrapped low around their hips. “I told you, you made an impression.” Asher laughed.

  “Fuck you. Veronica couldn’t keep her hands off you and the friend couldn’t keep her eyes off you.”

  “I can’t help that I’m adorable.”

  “You’re a pain in the ass and if you don’t figure out a way to discourage them, we’re going to be stuck with them.”

 

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