Kickflip

by Christina Lee

  I pulled onto the side street and stopped at the red light that intersected with the main road. “Where to?”

  “Quarry.”

  My head jerked back. “Isn’t it closed after dusk?”

  “Afraid of getting caught?” His voice was rough and clipped. “You’ve never done anything illegal?”

  My back stiffened. “Have you?”

  “You think I have,” he said. And now the last few days made sense. He knew I’d been having doubts about him. “So let’s leave it at that.”

  I shook my head in frustration. “If you never fill in any blanks, then I can’t help but make everything up in my own head. That’s what everyone in this town does, you get it?”

  I felt heavy gusts of air against my nape, and I attempted to hide the tremble that traveled across my skin.

  “Fucking brilliant,” he mumbled. “Just drive.”

  I gunned the gas harder than I’d intended, and as we shot off, his hands gripped my shirt even tighter. But he must’ve felt unsteady because his fingers sank further into my flesh. My stomach muscles quivered, and if he didn’t realize before, he could tell now how affected I was by having his hands on me.

  My dick thickened against my zipper, and I couldn’t help my thoughts from going there. To his fingers drifting down and grasping the front of my pants.

  “Better hang on,” I said, trying to rid myself of this off-the-charts tension. “Have to get on the freeway until the next exit.”

  His hands settled around my abdomen, one hand higher than the other, and I could feel his pulse thrumming through his fingers. Maybe he was as turned on as I was. Maybe he wanted this closeness as well. I felt him lean into the embrace, and I adjusted myself on the seat so that his groin would settle flush against my ass.

  I heard an audible gasp, and then his breaths turned harsh as he tucked his chin between my shoulder blades. I definitely felt his stiff cock against my lower back, and it was so validating, so damned arousing, that I nearly cut through my lip from biting down so hard.

  I angled my head toward him. “The quarry, huh?”

  No response, just a firm grip, his fingers nudging beneath my shirt to my skin. If he kept it up, I was going to hurtle into the fucking ditch.

  “True or false: you’re trying to kill me.”

  He huffed out a breath. “You’re the one driving like a bat out of hell.”

  I braced myself. Could I have been reading him wrong this entire time? But then I felt his thumb slide purposefully across the top of my waistband. Fine, I’d play his little game. Besides, he was at my mercy on this bike.

  Off the exit, I headed toward the national park. The quarry was located just inside, and though you were allowed to ride through after dusk, you weren’t supposed to park your vehicle. In my younger days, I’d gotten caught a few times steaming up the back seat. Plenty of kids had. The idea of doing the same as an adult merely seemed pointless.

  But now the thrill of driving through and parking with Jude felt clandestine and completely provocative. And what was with that illegal-activities topic of conversation we had at the light? How could he not be doing something against the law if he was involved with the Disciples? Why was it that I didn’t care anymore? Was my lust for him blinding my decisions? I couldn’t muster up the brain cells to be concerned.

  Which is probably why I got bold with my next question. “True or false: you like men.”

  He gulped a lungful of air. “I…I like you.”

  Holy fuck, he actually admitted to something. “So you’re gay?”

  As I turned down the dark road heading toward the quarry, I heard him mutter fuck under his breath as if he hadn’t meant to confess that much.

  “Sorry, you don’t owe me anything. I’m just trying to understand.”

  “Bollocks. It’s been…complicated,” he said in a rough voice, as if remembering someone or something.

  Damn, what in the hell was he talking about? And then a thought rose up, flooding my chest with fear. Did it have anything to do with all those scars on his back? Shit.

  I pulled into the empty lot while I mulled over his answer. I didn’t want him to feel on guard around me or to clam up, so I wasn’t going to press him about it. Him telling me felt organic to our ride, and I’d rather it stayed that way.

  I rolled into the deserted lot and came to a stop. Immediately, I twisted toward him. “I’d never do anything to hurt you, Jude.”

  His gaze met mine and held, heavy as steel. “I know,” he murmured.

  I blew out the breath I was holding. Why it mattered so much, I didn’t know.

  Jude slid off the bike and scanned the area, as if for onlookers.

  I jerked down the kickstand and lamented the loss of his heat behind me. I hung the helmet on the handlebar and swung my leg over the seat.

  Jude’s gaze slid down my body to my semi-hard cock. No way to hide it now.

  “To answer your question…yes, I’ve always felt more of an attraction to men. So I suppose that confirms your suspicion that I’m gay.” His voice was gruff, and I thought he sounded pissed, until I looked at him. A seductive smile lifted the corner of his lips. “And you are far too tempting, Cory.”

  I inhaled sharply through my nose. Holy Christ.

  12

  Jude moved toward the water like he was all too familiar with this sort of nighttime scene, and I had to wonder if he did this often. I, on the other hand, hadn’t been out to the quarry in years. The park had closed at sundown, and yeah, for me, this was as illegal as it got. Maybe back in the day I did some stupid shit, but now I was an adult with responsibilities and a grandmother to look after. I didn’t need to be paying fines up the wazoo just because some hot guy led me here one night after dark.

  The quarry was small and shallow, but the water was fresh and warm and blue in the daytime. Like a natural spring pond, if you wanted to compare it to something.

  I felt a spot of water on my cheek, and my stomach tightened. There was no thunder or lightning. Still, for me to be out on a bike during a rainstorm was huge. It happened unexpectedly sometimes, but I always sought shelter immediately or stayed after-hours at the shop to avoid it. I’d been so into my ride with Jude that I’d all but forgotten that the forecast called for showers.

  But there was something different about being here with Jude. He was like an electric force field I naturally gravitated toward, despite the danger signs written all over him. I couldn’t help thinking back to the day he took care of my ankle or how meticulous he was about practically everything, especially his words.

  I walked to the water’s edge and stood staring into its depths next to Jude. It was partly cloudy, and moonbeams shined down along the water’s edge. He cocked his head, as if expecting a string of protests to fall from my lips. But my throat was dry and my lips felt glued shut as I anticipated his next move. He seemed different tonight, almost defiant, on edge. Similar to how he was on his board, with his stunts. The one area in his life where he seemed to break loose and sail free.

  Droplets of water broke the glass surface, and I was mesmerized as it brought me back a few years to when I used to love rainstorms. I wished I could get back to that serene place again. But too many large waves had already crushed that tranquility.

  I found out my mother was dead the afternoon of a wicked storm, a few minutes after I’d arrived home soaked from school. I remembered my grandpa pulling me into the safety of his arms. He died five years later, and the cemetery was a muddy, watery mess the day of his funeral. And that last day with Damon. Fuck. We did everything wrong that day. If I could take it all back, I would.

  I turned to look at Jude, about to say something about the rain and getting back home and off the road, when he lifted his arms and stripped off his shirt. I gulped as I took in his smooth, lean chest that I’d now seen on more than one occasion.

  “What are you doing?”

  He unbuttoned his shorts with a shrug. He was back to being the silent Jude with
the mysterious gleam in his eye. And Silent Jude was apparently going into the water.

  I watched in complete awe as he effortlessly yanked down his shorts, which left his boxer briefs. I could plainly see the outline of his long, stiff cock, and all I could think was that I’d done that to him. Unless he was some sort of exhibitionist.

  As his fingers inched to the waistline, he stared into my eyes with so much longing, I could’ve swum in it.

  Though this was the boldest I’d ever seen Jude, I could also tell that revealing himself to me like this was colossal. There was a small tremor in his fingers, and all I wanted to do was reach for him, hold him, help steady his nerves.

  Then suddenly he turned, yanked down his underwear, and walked with purpose into the cool water. I only got a glimpse of his tight ass before the water concealed it. My erection began throbbing in my pants, and I tried to rein in my thundering pulse.

  “Is it warm?” I asked past the lump in my throat.

  He nodded.

  “You shouldn’t go any deeper because of your tattoo,” I said, mostly to keep myself talking. “I wouldn’t want you getting an infection.”

  “Then come in and keep watch.” His shoulders glistened in the moonlight, and right then he was a vision, my every fantasy come true. He stood staring at me, water droplets hanging off his lips and chin from the light rain, willing me to discard my clothing and join him. And I definitely didn’t want to blow it. It felt heady, thinking he desired me. Even if this was only a one-time crazy-ass thing.

  That thought drove me forward, the rain forgotten. When I yanked off my shirt, Jude’s eyes became hooded, and I swallowed thickly. When I took down my jeans, his teeth bit into his lower lip, and he looked away as if to give me privacy. It felt good to let my erection loose as I kicked out of my briefs, and the cool water would help soothe the fire rampant inside me.

  I strolled into the water, the cold liquid calming me. “This feels amazing.”

  “This is as deep as the water gets,” he said, turning back to me and creating a gentle splash in my direction.

  I raised an eyebrow. “You tricked me.”

  “Did it work?” he whispered.

  He gave me one of his rare smiles, which turned very serious after a few more seconds of gazing into each other’s eyes. My stomach was buzzing, and my raging hard-on felt even tighter with anticipation.

  I was wading in the quarry in the middle of the night, completely bare, with a guy who was not only giving me strong signals that he wanted me, but also made my head fuzzy with emotions I hadn’t felt in years.

  It was like being in a perilous game of chess. Jude stepped forward, and I knew instinctively he needed to be the one to make the first move. He was a guy running from something, and if I wanted to find out anything more about him, I needed to play it cool.

  Especially since he’d been struggling to admit he was gay. I’d been with guys who weren’t out of the closet yet. Everyone moved on his or her own timeline, but if one thing was certain, it was that I never wanted to be somebody’s dirty little secret again. And though my head was telling me that was exactly where this was headed, I still couldn’t stop myself from experiencing one taste of this man.

  We were inches apart, our breaths mingling, sharing a sliver of air between us. That’s when I knew without question that he wanted me like I wanted him. Here in the dark, with the rain sprinkling softly and the only light our shared moon, I felt exposed. Standing so close to Jude, I could have simply leaned over and sampled his wet lips, and yet I waited.

  His eyes traveled between my mouth and eyes as if he was contemplating his next move. “Cory.”

  Just as I sighed, his hands rose out of the water. “I…I want to—”

  “Go for it,” I replied, not even sure what I was agreeing to, but if it had anything to do with him touching me, I was all in.

  His fingers feathered against my throat, and his thumb brushed over my collarbone, making me shiver. Anguish filtered through his eyes as if he was fighting himself on something, so I remained silent and motionless, transfixed by the heat and texture of his hands on my skin.

  He slipped behind me, dragging his fingers across my shoulders as he went. Our bodies aligned in the wet darkness, and his hot breaths fanned against my nape. His solid chest was brushing my back, and I could feel the ghost of his erection throbbing firmly against my hip. I thought I might break apart right then and there.

  He maintained this sensual position as his fingers tracked over the ink on my biceps and shoulders. His hand clutched the nape of my neck and then skimmed across the hollow of my throat. I tried remaining still and quiet; this felt incredibly intimate, and I didn’t know how to unpack what was happening between us.

  He burrowed his fingers in my hair, and his warm breath wafted across the side of my face. It was like an electromagnetic shockwave had pulsed over my skin, zapping the entire surface area along my arms and legs.

  “Your hair’s really soft. I’ve wondered what it would feel like,” he murmured, and never in my life had I craved somebody more. Just one twist of my head and I could capture his mouth, savor his lips. But fuck, that would ruin everything.

  His hand glided between my shoulder blades, down the center of my back, slowing at my waist as a moan surged from my lips. As the fingers on his other hand painstakingly traced up and down my spine, my breaths became choppy and broken.

  His lips found my ear, and when he spoke again, his voice startled me. “True or false: you’ve injured your back.”

  13

  I struggled to move my lips as I took in his question.

  “And it’s got something to do with a motorbike,” he added when I didn’t say anything.

  I thought of that night I hurt my foot and then freaked when he wanted to drive me home. Still, I remained stubborn. He wanted me to reveal something personal, and I wouldn’t share it with just anybody. At least not somebody who wouldn’t give anything in return.

  “How’d you get those scars?” I asked into the darkness.

  I could feel his heart battering against my back, matching the rhythm of mine. We were at a standstill. And it was ridiculous. So I decided I had nothing to lose, even if I never saw him again.

  “I had a boyfriend who died in a motorcycle accident. It was a rainy night, and we should’ve waited before leaving the party. It was a bad decision, and he lost his life,” I said, almost in a whisper. “His name was Damon.”

  Not being able to see his eyes helped, though I wondered what I’d find in them. His hands tightened around my torso, his fingers skimming across my waistline as if to soothe me. I hadn’t said those words to anybody in a very long time. I hadn’t even said them to myself.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

  I closed my eyes and dropped my head. I felt his fingertips feather across the very center of my back, and it made me shiver.

  Then he spoke, allowing me a small grain of truth. One that no doubt weighed an inordinate amount. “I frustrated my stepfather quite a lot. And he had one hell of a way of showing it.”

  My chest tightened into a fist, and I turned in his arms. “Fuck, that’s… Goddamn. I’m sorry.”

  I lifted my hand to reach out to him, then dropped it, realizing the same rules didn’t apply to him, though I could’ve sworn I spotted a hint of disappointment in his gaze.

  “True or false,” I said, leaning forward. “You want me to touch you.”

  He trembled. “Yes. More than anything.”

  “Fuck,” I whispered under my breath. “Please let me.”

  He unexpectedly grabbed my hand and gently placed my palm against his chest, the area right above his heart. His pulse was going wild, and it was as if he was showing me exactly what I was doing to him. I swallowed hard against the raw ache in my throat.

  We stood staring at each other like we had all the time in the world, while rain dotted our faces. Whereas at one time, I’d have sought shelter from the deluge, now I welcomed the water
as it melded into my heated skin, slid in rivulets down my chest.

  When he finally loosened his grip on my hand, my fingers lifted to his jaw, feeling the light scruff there as his lips parted in a silent gasp. I lightly traced his throat, collarbones, and brushed over one of his nipples, which pebbled at my touch. His skin was warm, his muscles firm. He watched me, panting shallowly.

  I moved in a circle around him, admiring his biceps and shoulders, then slid his hair aside to graze the nape of his neck, and he shuddered. My hands traced over his spine where the canvas of his scars began. Showing him in my own way how much I admired him. How much I longed for him too.

  A whimper escaped his mouth as I touched the center of his back where most of that tree had already begun to heal. When my fingers trailed down his spine to his narrow waist and then over to his flat abdomen, I took a chance and tugged him more solidly against me.

  “Cory.” He rocked against me, trembling. As if he’d die if I didn’t touch him.

  My hand slipped lower, giving him enough time to object before my fingers fastened around his erection. He angled his head and moaned openly.

  “Damn.” I couldn’t believe I was touching him. He was uncut, his shaft smooth and silky, and I had a burning desire to make him come. I pumped him up and down, my fingers pulling down the foreskin, my thumb swiping across his engorged head.

  When he twisted his head back to look at me, his lips slightly parted, I leaned toward him, hoping his mouth would meet mine halfway. Instead, he inched his face away, and his tormented eyes flicked guiltily up to mine. He rolled his lips inward as if to keep them protected, and I kicked myself for wanting to taste him so badly.

  I focused on making him feel good. “Is this okay?”

  A strangled, throaty whimper released from his mouth, causing the hairs on my neck to stand at attention. He was already close, and I knew exactly how he felt because I was hanging on the precipice of my own orgasm simply watching him come undone.