by S. E. Harmon
“Blue?”
“Maybe. You’ll have to open the door to find out.”
I didn’t need to find out. I knew his voice as well as my own. “Oh my God.”
He paused. “Is that a good ‘oh my God’ or bad?”
I let out my breath in a silent rush. “Good,” I finally said.
“Okay, then.” He came a little closer to my stall, so close his feet were a little under my door. I quietly slid one of my shoes next to his and gave his shoe a hello tap with mine. I heard his amused puff of breath. “So. The hotel seems nice.”
I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. Everything was beautifully appointed but not pretentious. “It certainly is. Lot of amenities. Nice staff. Connor and I were thinking about using the indoor pool.”
“Yeah? Maybe I’ll join you.”
“There’s also a nice restaurant on the bottom floor.”
“I think I saw it.” His tone was as conversational as my own. “Mexican?”
“Tapas. Small plates and communal tables.”
“Good pricing?”
“A little expensive, but they have a huge selection.”
“Mm-hmm. Hey, Kel?”
“Yeah?”
“You think maybe we could do this face-to-face?”
“I don’t think so.”
I could hear the amusement and exasperation in his voice. “Yeah? And why’s that?”
“Because you’re going to make me come out,” I said darkly.
“Not necessarily.”
Oh yes, necessarily. I narrowed my eyes at the door. He was going to say things about having courage and being brave and doing things that scare you and all that shit that really belonged on an inspirational pillow and not in real life. Before you knew it, I’d be on my way to conference room B and the humiliation that waited within.
“Are you going to open the door, or do I have to take it off the hinges?” His voice suddenly sounded muffled, and I could tell he was examining the hinges and actually considering it.
“Hang on,” I growled.
Despite my shame at being found cowering in a bathroom stall like a little kid and my absolute certainty that he was going to get me to come out, I knew I had to open it. I stood on wobbly legs and unlatched the stall door.
I was still a little stunned to see him standing there, all polished and put together in a beautifully tailored gray suit. It was clear he’d gone through some effort, and I stared at his silk pink-checked tie. I loved seeing him all dressed up. In his day-to-day life, he wore suits every now and again for special events he couldn’t get out of, but his usual mode of dress was athletic gear. And while he did sportswear very well, his toned and defined body did wonderful things for suits—wonderful, unspeakable things.
I swallowed. Even in the middle of a crisis, my fertile mind could whip up a creative fantasy. I saw the front, and I wanted to get a good look at the back, wanted to see if his incredible ass looked just as incredible in those fitted pants.
Since I very well couldn’t ask him to lift his jacket and turn around—without seeming like a horrible perv, I focused on other things, mostly greeting him properly, warmly. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Nice greeting that is.” He crowded me backward in the stall like the pushy bastard he was and pulled the door behind him. It was a tight fit, and I had to grab on to his lapel so I didn’t have to straddle the toilet. “What do you think I’m doing here?”
“I think you’re supposed to be at the charity event.” Another thought occurred to me, and my eyes widened. “Are you going to get in trouble?”
“Probably,” he said with a cheeky grin. “They’ve probably realized I’m gone by now.”
“Blue!”
“It’ll be fine. I skipped out early, but I wrote a nice check. Frankly I’m sure they can use that more than me standing around for a few hours, anyway.”
I knew it wasn’t quite that simple. When the team owner requested the players to be at an event, he expected them to show up. He expected them to shake hands and schmooze and let all his wealthy friends take pictures with them. I didn’t doubt there would be some sort of piper to pay, just as I knew Blue wouldn’t tell me about it.
I searched his eyes for any judgment or blame and found only concern. I tried to smile, but it wobbled a little, so I let it drop completely. He leaned forward and kissed the tip of my nose, and I briefly closed my eyes.
“You okay?” was all he asked.
“Yeah. Now I am.”
He got what I was saying, and I didn’t have to get all sappy about it. He wrapped his arms around me. “Then it’s worth all the trouble.”
No one hugged me like Blue did. No one. Like he could fix every problem I ever had just by holding me together—human duct tape for my soul. “How’d you even get here?” My voice was muffled in his jacket, but he understood me.
“I asked my buddy Ryan to do me a favor. He has a small Cessna, and he’ll use any excuse to fly it. As long as I reimburse him for gas, we’re all good. I also told him if we make the playoffs, I’ll give him tickets for seats so good he’ll be able to punt the football himself. So we’re square.”
“But… but what about your team?”
“You’re my team,” he said, effectively silencing my sputters. Then he pressed a kiss in my hair and held me away from him so I could see his eyes, so I could see he meant every word. “This is important.”
“What were all the gifts about, then?” I asked. “A fakeout?”
“No, I actually arranged for those yesterday. But then I realized that all that was just stuff, and our relationship has never been about stuff.”
He was right. It was about faith and love and trust and everything that made us us. We had our problems, just like everybody else, but in the end, we had each other’s backs every time it mattered.
“You’re damn right. Our relationship has never been about stuff.” I kissed him soundly. “It’s about sex.”
“Kelly,” he scolded, but his lips twitched, and I could tell he wanted to smile. “I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
He rubbed his hands briskly up and down my arms. “If you’re fine enough to work that sassy mouth, then you’re fine enough to get out there.”
“I knew it.” I glared at him, and he rolled his eyes in return.
“Yes, my evil plan is to get you out of this bathroom. Like any good villain, I have a sixty-page manifesto that I will now read aloud.”
“Ha-ha.” I wrinkled my nose. “You’re so cute.” He absolutely was not.
“You do this kind of thing every day, Kel, and you don’t even realize how amazing it is. When you get up there in front of all those students? This is just like lecturing a class, and I know you’re gonna rock it.”
“I guess.”
“That’s just the enthusiasm I was looking for.”
I had to laugh. “That’s the best you’re getting out of me.”
“All right.” He blew out a breath and appeared to be thinking hard. “How ’bout this. When you finish, I’ll be naked in your bed, and you can have your wicked way with me.”
That kind of motivation I could get on board with. I looked him up and down appreciatively. I had plans for that tie. Maybe even bending him over and fucking him in that suit. My mind raced even as my cock filled. Maybe I could even use that tie to bind his hands to the headboard. But I deflated a little when I remembered the headboard was upholstered panel.
A chair, then—there was a nice desk chair in the room that would do the trick. I rebounded nicely with another freaktastic vision. I’d bind his hands behind him as he sat in the chair and ride him until he was a quivering shivery mess. Then I’d finish him off in my mouth.
“Are you ready to give that speech now?”
I stared at him dumbly for a second as his sky-blue eyes sparkled with amusement. It was clear he realized exactly where my thoughts had drifted, but I wasn’t embarrassed. The way he looked, combined w
ith that offer of carte blanche? He was lucky we weren’t standing in a puddle of drool.
“The suit stays on,” I croaked.
He looked like he was barely holding back laughter. “I can certainly do that.”
“Okay. Yeah, that works.” I nodded. “Now out of my way. I have a speech to give.”
He shrugged as though he couldn’t care less. “Whatever you want.”
“God, I love it when you say that.”
“Enjoy it, because you won’t be hearing it again.”
Not even with your dick in my mouth as I torture your ass with my fingers for as long as I want? I smiled enigmatically, and his gaze turned suspicious. “We’ll see” was all I said. “We’ll certainly see about that.”
WHEN WE finally emerged from the bathroom, the first thing I saw was Connor leaning against the wall, busily texting on his phone. He sent me a smug look. “I told Kennedy that you finally manned up,” he said cheerfully. “She was threatening to kick your ass.”
“Thank you,” I said with a glare. “Not sure why you apprised her of the situation at all, but thank you.”
“Hey, I didn’t know what we were going to have to do to get you out of there,” he said, clearly unapologetic that he’d spread word of my cowardice all up and down the East Coast. He made a horrible Paul Revere, that was for sure.
A little farther down the hall, I spotted Dr. Arlo talking with a stressed-looking Carole. She widened her eyes when she saw me and rushed over to grab my arm.
“Sorry about that, Carole. I—”
“It doesn’t matter. Connor told me about your situation.”
“My situa—”
“The explosive diarrhea,” she said in a confidential whisper that was a hair too loud. Blue turned his guffaw into a cough, and Dr. Arlo’s ears went a little red. Carole pulled at my jacket. “Come now, we’re only a few minutes behind schedule.”
She hustled me along down the hallway, and I managed to give Connor a dirty look behind her back as we ran/walked to the conference room. It wasn’t easy, but I was pretty sure I was able to send him a message with my facial expressions alone.
He waggled his eyebrows in return. If I had to guess, his return message was a little something like Maybe next time you don’t hide in a bathroom, and you can control the narrative.
I could already hear my introduction as Carole pushed me through the doors, and there was no more time to balk. I kept my eyes trained on the front as I headed up to the podium, but when I finally turned to face the room, there was no avoiding the people. Lots of people. The hundred I saw before my freak-out had doubled. Maybe tripled.
I arranged my speech on the podium for easy access and pushed on it a little too hard. Apparently the podium was made of papier-mâché, and it listed forward. I grabbed it back just in time, and the mic squealed. The audience tittered as I resettled the podium—I wouldn’t even be able to grip the flimsy damn thing for support. A bead of sweat slid down my spine in slow motion.
I gazed out at the audience, and Blue’s encouragement drifted helpfully through my mind. You do this kind of thing every day, and you don’t even realize how amazing it is. This is just like lecturing a class. A huge class, but still.
The room was slightly darkened, but not so much that I couldn’t make out people. My eyes landed on Connor and Blue in the back row. They both gave me encouraging looks and pulled horrible faces that startled a laugh out of me. I rubbed my face. When I glanced back in their direction, they were still making faces at me. I swallowed down another inappropriate laugh and scratched my temple with my middle finger.
Their silliness gave me the jolt I needed, and I finally began. “Ladies and gentlemen. On behalf of the esteemed American Society of Physics, it is my honor to welcome you to the twenty-first International Physics Divisional Conference….”
AFTER THE success of my speech and a fifteen-minute Q and A session, I was able to enjoy the rest of the lecturers for the day. I checked the schedule, and much to my delight, there were four lecturers left and another five the next day. The last day of the conference would be a meet and greet and a luncheon.
Blue made it through three of the lectures, which was three more than I expected. I got another keycard from the desk and sent him up to the room with the promise that I wouldn’t be more than an hour. Carole corralled me after the last lecture of the day, and that hour turned into two. Then I had a few celebratory drinks with Connor that stretched two hours into three, but I knew Blue wouldn’t mind. If I knew him like I thought I did, he was probably already asleep.
By the time I finally got back to the room, Blue was in bed, sitting up against the headboard, his iPad on his lap. He’d ditched the suit for a low-slung pair of soft-looking blue-checked sleep pants, and his hair was mussed like it always was when he woke up. Some sports highlights show was on the TV on low, and I briefly wondered what he would do if he couldn’t find ESPN—run screaming into the night, I suspected.
I was very, very glad he was up. It would probably be rude to wake him with my dick, not that manners had ever stopped me before.
He’d been riling me up all day long with little soft touches when no one was looking and sending me dirty texts even when we were sitting a few feet away from one another. Giving me a hard-on in the middle of Dr. Arlo’s speech about conductivity? Unforgiveable.
From the saucy grin he sent me, he remembered my discomfort and wasn’t one bit sorry. “Hello, dear.”
“Don’t you ‘hello, dear’ me.” I shrugged out of my suit jacket and draped it over the other bed. Then I started to work off my tie. “Why aren’t you in your suit? I had plans, you know.”
“You took too long. No kinky suit sex for you.”
“That sucks.”
“Luckily for you, so do I.” His gaze was glued to me as I tossed my tie and began to unbutton my shirt, my movements quick and concise. “And could you remove that a little slower? Give me something to work with. Damn.”
I rolled my eyes but indulged him as I slowly peeled the garment off. The shirt got stuck at my wrists, and I struggled for a few seconds before I had to concede defeat. I slunk over to him and held out my restricted hands. “Not a word,” I warned. “Or I’ll hurt you.”
He didn’t look worried. “Oh yeah?”
“Mortal Kombat, finish-him style.”
Even though his lips were pressed tight and his eyes sparkled, he somberly unfastened my cuff buttons and freed my hands. I went back to my impromptu strip show and took off my belt. I channeled my inner stripper and whipped it over my head. The belt curled in a circle and slapped my shoulder, and I yelped and dropped the belt like a hot potato.
Blue covered his mouth with his hands as I rubbed the injured spot. When he got his laughter under control, he finally asked, like a decent fucking person, “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I said with a scowl. Clearly my Magic Mike vibe was totally ruined. Judging from the tenting of his pants, Blue didn’t seem to mind. I hooked my thumbs in my belt loops. “The show must go on.”
“Maybe we should get some insurance before you continue.”
“Maybe you should show me how it’s done, funny guy.”
He didn’t hesitate. He tucked his thumbs in his pants, briefly lifted up to get them over his hips, and kicked them off. His cock bounced against his stomach as he sat back down, and he closed his hand over it with a soft groan. I watched avidly as he slowly stroked up and down—firmly, authoritatively. He knew what he liked, and he didn’t mind me watching. On the fifth stroke, he paused at the head, smeared his thumb through the liquid, rubbed it around the head, and used the rest to slick his way back down.
It took me a couple of seconds to realize I was still staring at him, mouth slightly open, hands paused at my zipper. I yanked off my pants and tossed them on the floor. My boxers followed shortly after. Then I kneeled on the end of the bed and started to stroke myself, matching his rhythm until my breath came hard and short in my chest, harsh in my own
ears.
“So.” He gazed over me in a lazy appraisal. “How do you want it?”
It was a simple question, but he might as well have asked me to interpret an ancient scroll. My focus was hazy, blurred. I wondered how we went from teasing arousal to “gotta have you now” so fucking quickly. The implications of his question certainly didn’t help. However way you want it, I can give it to you.
“Now,” I answered simply.
I crawled up the bed and over his splayed thighs. I pushed him back, followed him down, and pressed my body into his. He shifted to accommodate me, eyebrows raised, and his breathing wasn’t all that steady either. “I guess that answers the question of who’s getting fucked.”
“That okay with you?”
It was a rhetorical question. Not only was I already lubing up his hole, but we both knew he wanted it… maybe even needed it. He equally hated and loved giving up control, but I tried not to let him overthink it. He lived in a world where people expected him to be aggressive and in charge—begging someone to “Fuck me, fuck me now” certainly didn’t belong in that world.
I slid a finger inside of him, and a groan escaped his tightly compressed lips. “I need you to get lower,” I commanded, “and open up for me. Let me see that pretty hole.”
He glared at me even as he slid down farther on the bed and spread his thighs more. I slipped my fingers in, and he practically melted under my touch, canting his hips up every time I pulled out. I loved all his reactions—the way he bit his lip when I hit his spot, the way his cheeks got all pink and flushed…. He grabbed my wrist, and I paused, just checking to make sure he was with me.
“Don’t stop,” he ground out.
“Wasn’t planning on it.” He ignored my wicked look, and I chuckled. I’d fuck him any way I could get him, but I loved to make him beg first. I nuzzled at his throat. “You all right with this?”
“Yes.” He leaned back and bared his throat so I could get better access. “You want a notarized statement?”
“I just want to make sure we’re on the same page.”
