Straight Shooter (Rear Entrance Video, #3)

by Heidi Belleau

  Master Puck signed autographs and posed and glowered for his loving public, arms crossed, while Austin simultaneously seethed with jealousy and preened with pride that he knew the real Liam. Watched him so intently that he didn’t notice when a small shoulder bumped his own.

  Bobby, of course. “So what’s up with you and him?” he asked with a cheeky little smile, his eyelids low.

  “Who?” Austin asked, but his loud gulp totally undermined any attempt to play it cool.

  “You know who. Liam. You two were getting pretty close on that chair.”

  Austin prickled. “Nothing. Well, nothing’s between us. Maybe he imagines there is. Maybe he wants there to be. You seen his videos? His whole thing is fucking straight dudes. No wonder he’s into me.” No, that sounded dangerously douchey. “Not that I’m offended or scared of it, okay? Just, no thank you, thanks but no thanks, I’m flattered, whatever.”

  “Uh-huh.” Bobby shrugged, nudging Austin as he did. Surprisingly, Austin didn’t mind them standing this close. That was an improvement. Maybe he could stay living where he was after all. “Well, it’s cute. Kinda weird when he treats you like a little brother, but cute.”

  “Weird? What’s weird?”

  Bobby shrugged again. “It’s a strange dynamic, that’s all. For him to obviously be sexually attracted to you but then do that whole kid thing he keeps pulling.”

  He’s into me? Austin flushed.

  “Maybe he’s trying to remind himself you’re not for fucking.” Bobby tapped his lip thoughtfully. “Or maybe he’s into that whole pseudo incest daddy-play thing, who knows.”

  How the hell could Bobby be so relaxed about this? Talk about it so nonchalantly?

  Because you played it cool, and now he’s following your lead, dipshit. “Wait, wait, wait,” Austin blurted. “What the hell is ‘daddy play’?”

  Bobby snorted. “Oh, honey,” he said, shook his head, and walked away.

  Nearly one in the afternoon, and Austin was beginning to think that he’d seriously undercooked his master plan. Sure, propositioning the porn star sounded easy enough in theory, but not so much in a store packed wall-to-wall with people, including, oh, all but one of Austin’s coworkers/roommates. Including Bobby, who was totally onto him.

  The only way this could be worse was if his whole team were here, too.

  Luckily, though, they weren’t. Because they’d have definitely torn him a new one when he finally figured out how to put his plan into motion.

  Because shortly after one, Master Puck stood and announced, “All right, my adoring public, thanks for coming, I love you all, but I need a break for some lunch and some me time. Giving my shaking hand a rest.”

  And Austin almost—okay, no, there was no “almost” about it—shouted: “I’ll come with you!”

  Liam blinked, and Austin turned to Beverly sheepishly. “If that’s okay? I’ll buy him lunch on behalf of the store and, uh, make sure he doesn’t run off or anything.”

  Bobby gave Austin a suspicious look but didn’t speak. Damn, for a guy Austin had been treating like shit for weeks on end, Bobby sure wasn’t holding it against him now.

  Beverly looked to Liam, who shrugged. “Well, I wasn’t planning on running away to anywhere, but sure, kid, I could use the company.”

  “Get some money from the cash drawer, then,” Beverly said. “Don’t take him anywhere too pricy.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to say stuff like that behind my back or outside of earshot or something?” Liam asked as Austin trotted to the counter and opened the till, snatching up a twenty.

  Beverly smacked him on the shoulder. “You’re lucky I’m not sending the boy to get you a burger and fries off the dollar menu somewhere.”

  “Yikes!” Liam’s eyebrows shot up. “Point taken. Okay, kiddo, lead the way. I hope you like sushi.”

  Ugh, fuck no. But for Liam? To get a chance at being alone with Liam?—today, before he lost his fucking nerve? Austin would eat every raw fish the Japanese could throw at him.

  They headed for the door, and it was only when they made it to the sidewalk that Austin realized Liam hadn’t put a coat on, hadn’t done a single damn thing to cover up his flashy Dom wear. And, oh God, people were looking at them. Well, they were looking at Liam, because he was the bare-chested one in all the leather. But Austin was with him, walking beside him, and like it or not, that made them something of an item. Together.

  Every person who passed them on the sidewalk, every person who spotted Liam in his eye-catching getup, also saw Austin at his side. Saw Austin and made some assumption, came up with some explanation, as to why they were together. Austin wondered what those explanations were. Did they think he and Liam were just unlikely friends? Coworkers? People who had met on Craigslist to buy and sell a used mattress or bookshelf?

  Or did they think Austin was Liam’s slutty jock sub and that underneath his hoodie and jeans, he had pierced nipples and a big plug up his ass?

  The thought simultaneously made Austin so sick to his stomach he wanted to puke right there on the sidewalk and so turned on his whole body thrummed with it.

  He wondered if Liam knew.

  God, he kind of wanted Liam to know.

  Well, soon he would. Because Austin was going to ask. Ask him to fuck him, dominate him, whatever.

  Hell, they were alone; he could do it right now. All he had to do was open his mouth—

  Open his mouth and admit he wanted it up the ass.

  Sign him up for the weekly newsletter and pull out your dicks, boys, because Austin Puett was G-A-Y gay. Oh God, he couldn’t do this, he couldn’t go through with this, he needed time, he needed—

  Shit! They were already at the sushi place. How had they gotten here so fast? Before he could convince himself not to, Austin grabbed Liam by the wrist and gave him an urgent tug, preventing him from going through the front door. “So, uh, it doesn’t make a guy gay if he does stuff with another guy, right?” he asked. “I mean, you know, your one series, like, those guys aren’t gay, they just, they just do some stuff. With guys. But they’re still straight?”

  Liam didn’t laugh at him, merely gave him a careful look. “You’re asking me if Gay for Pay is a thing?” He put a hand on Austin’s shoulder, and that was all it took for Austin to breathe deep and relax a little. It was okay. Nobody was going to find out. There were no newsletters. Nobody was going to make him suck their dick just because he’d jerked off to a little bit of gay porn. “I wasn’t lying before, little buddy. Of course it is. You gotta do what you gotta do to earn a pay cheque. Doesn’t change who you are or what you feel. It’s a job.”

  Austin flushed. Licked his lips. “Yeah. Of course. Yeah. But what if . . . what if they weren’t . . .”

  What if I wanted you to fuck me for free?

  What if it’s not just a job?

  Oh God.

  “I mean, I’m straight. Obviously.”

  “Right,” Liam said.

  “Well, I’m straight, and I was thinking, you know, maybe I could be in one of your videos. Gay for Pay. Yeah.”

  Yeah. That made perfect sense. If Austin did this thing for money, then it didn’t change who he was at all. It would be no different than any of the other dumb shit he’d done for the dollar, like that time he’d drank straight from a bottle of tabasco for twenty bucks and burnt the shit out of his mouth.

  He’d still be him.

  Nobody would question his straightness; they’d think he was in it for the cash.

  He’d get a wad of money, still be the same straight Austin, and he’d get the painful reality of a dick up his ass to deter him from any future fantasizing. It was win-win-win.

  Liam was staring at him, dumbfounded. “Waitwaitwait. Did you ask to tag along so you could ask for a job?” He pushed open the door to the sushi place, a hand on Austin’s back guiding him through.

  “Irrashaimase!” called the chefs and waitresses.

  Aaaand now they were having this conversation in the mid
dle of a restaurant full of people. He was propositioning a man for sex with the smell of soy sauce in his nose.

  “Um, yes?” Austin tried.

  “Hooooly shit.” Liam laughed. “I did not see that coming, straight kid. I did not see that coming at all. Holy shit. Holy. What makes you think you can do porn, anyway?”

  Now Austin felt completely humiliated. He squirmed, hands balled into fists, wishing he could say something clever and convincing, but simultaneously macho and not too eager. “Well, I mean, I watch a lot of it. I have a pretty nice body. I work out. I like people looking at me. How hard can it be?”

  Liam shook his head. “How hard can it be, he says. Oh, Lord help me.” He moved up to the counter. “Chirashizushi to go, please. How about you, kiddo?”

  Straight kid. Buddy. Little buddy. Now kiddo.

  Austin burned. “Nothing for me, thanks.”

  Liam clucked and rolled his eyes. “He’ll have a California roll.” He turned to Austin, explaining helpfully, “That one’s cooked.”

  “Right, um.” Austin reached into his pocket for the money Beverly had given him. “How much?”

  “Forget it,” Liam said, and reached into his pocket for his wallet. “I can afford my own lunch.”

  They waited at the counter awhile, and Austin thought maybe that was the end of the conversation, but after Liam had paid and the guy behind the counter had handed over a plastic bag with two styrofoam containers, Liam gave him that calm, assessing look again. “You must be tight on cash,” he said.

  “N-not really,” Austin replied. The explanation—the lie—came a lot easier than he expected it would, considering he’d come up with the let-me-be-in-your-porn angle on the fly. “I had a scare where I thought I was getting kicked out of my place and losing my job in the same month, and it made me think I should put some money in the bank, you know? For a rainy day type thing. So I thought, I could do a movie for you, and that money could be my rainy day money.”

  Liam sighed deeply. Grabbed Austin by the shoulders and steered him toward a small corner table still littered with dirty dishes. Sat him in a chair and then took the one opposite. He cleared his throat. Gave Austin a level stare. “Look, Austin. It’s gotta be a no, buddy. I’m not looking for any talent right now, and even if I was, I only take guys with experience.”

  “What do you mean, experience? What about for Straight Sub Setup, those guys aren’t gay porn stars, they’re straight guys like—”

  “Yeah, I’m gonna have to stop you there. That series is all an act, Austin. It’s not real. If we did that shit for real, with the bait and switch and the contracts and all of it, it’d be rape. The guys we hire know exactly what they’re getting into and what’s expected of them.”

  What? Austin recoiled like he’d been slapped. Damn, was Liam going to tell him Santa and the Easter Bunny and Jesus weren’t real while he was at it?

  “And as for the ‘straight subs,’ some are straight, some are bi, and some of them are gay but can pull off the appearance of straightness. Or stereotypical straightness, at least. Point is, it’s not real. It’s staged and scripted and edited into a pretty package. All porn is. If you don’t even know that, there’s no way I can hire you in good conscience.”

  A waitress wandered up to clear the dishes from their table, shooting them an irate look as she did so, presumably for seating themselves despite the sign. And the people still standing around the podium waiting to be seated.

  Liam cast a guilty look at her walking away and sighed. “Look, I understand money troubles. If you’re really worried, I can talk to my partner, ask her if she’s got some behind the scenes stuff you could do, even if it’s, I dunno, stuffing envelopes. Or sweeping floors, or whatever.”

  “I don’t want to sweep floors!” Austin snapped, slamming his fist on the table. “And quit fucking treating me like a kid! First it’s kiddo, then it’s buddy, now you’re telling me I’m not big enough and bad enough to be able to decide for myself whether I want to do porn. What happened to being all mad Sandra thinks you’re too stupid to make your own decisions, huh? Aren’t you doing the exact same thing?”

  “Lower your voice,” Liam said, reaching out to touch Austin’s forearm.

  Austin snatched it back before Liam could make contact. “Don’t you pull that daddy play shit on me. You know what, you can take your kiddos and your floor sweeping and your California rolls and . . . and . . .” Oh no, he was going to say it. Nope, correction, yell it. “Shove it up your ass!”

  And with that, he stormed out, leaving Liam sitting at their table for two, alone and looking shell-shocked.

  He had a copy of STRAIGHT SUB SETUP 2 pirated on his computer. He booted it up the minute he got home from the sushi place, compelled to hate-watch it. He’d seen this one three times already; he knew at least a third of the dialogue by heart. This was the one where the sub followed the letter of the contract, but passive-aggressively, half-assing all of Master Puck’s commands until all of a sudden Puck cut him loose and threw his clothes at him and told him to get the fuck out if he was too much of a pussy to honour a deal properly. Of course, by that time he’d already had a taste of what Master Puck had to offer, and apparently the guy was like a drug—or a potato chip—because the sub needed more despite himself. Couldn’t bring himself to walk away.

  Austin watched the guy beg on his knees for a second chance, blubbering and moaning, while Puck coldly stood over him, unswayed. Austin wasn’t going to jerk off to this. He wasn’t. He resolutely ignored his throbbing hard-on, focusing instead on trying to pick out any signs of not-straightness from the sub as he pawed at Master Puck’s thighs, then fell prostrate and began to lick the toes of his boots.

  “Please,” the sub begged, and Austin squinted at the screen, trying to discern any lisp in his voice, any femininity in his posture, any gay tattoos, anything. Anything to prove that what Liam had said was true and not some bullshit meant to send Austin packing. But there was nothing, nothing at all, and the longer Austin watched, the more convinced he was that Liam was giving him the run around. Playing father-knows-best like the hypocritical piece of shit he was. What did this sub have that Austin didn’t? Austin was damn sure he could beg better than that, could crawl better than that, could take pain better, could suffer pleasure better. Austin could take a hit and keep fighting. Austin knew what it took to prove himself, and more than that, what it cost. He wouldn’t be caught dead crying and begging, hell no. Liam had underestimated him, treating him like a stupid kid who couldn’t handle the consequences of his decisions. And no wonder, if this sub was an example of the kind of guy who usually got tangled up with him, asking for something—no, begging for it—and then crying like a bitch when he got it.

  It was almost infuriating, really, to see how bad this guy sucked and know he could do better, but also know that Liam refused to give him a chance. The same way his team refused to give him a chance at being alternate captain. A chance to prove his worthiness, that was all he fucking wanted. How could he prove himself if Liam didn’t even give him a chance?

  And then Master Puck said a line Austin didn’t remember by heart, maybe because by this point in the scene, he was usually coming all over himself like a fifteen-year-old.

  Well, this time Austin was in a position to hear it when Master Puck said, “That’s it. Cry like a little pussy for me. Just like that. Cry, and prove how much you want me.”

  Not prove you can handle it, because the way he’d spoken made it sound like Master Puck actually enjoyed the fact that the sub couldn’t handle it.

  No. It was prove how much you want me.

  Liam had given Austin a chance to prove something, after all. Only, it wasn’t about proving himself, or proving he could handle what Liam dished out, oh no. It was about proving that he really wanted what Liam had to give him in the first place.

  And looking at it that way . . .

  Liam had said no in the sushi restaurant, refused Austin’s proposal, shown Austin the
same resistance he was showing his boot-licking sub by making the sad fucker crawl and beg. He’d wanted Austin to push back, to beg, to crawl, to prove he wasn’t proud, to prove that yeah, he wanted this, wanted it more than his dignity, wanted it bad enough to cry and degrade himself.

  And in reply, Austin had given up and walked away.

  Prove you want this.

  Oh, Austin wanted it, all right. He’d wanted it for a long time, had been gunning for it all of last year.

  The alternate captain position, he meant. And the fact that he’d gotten it as a result of some sketchy team politics didn’t change the fact that he’d wanted it and earned it.

  Too bad acting all apologetic and guilty after Warren had made the announcement really didn’t put that across.

  Well, that ended today. Because he did want it. Wanted it enough to fight for it. To take whatever abuse his team planned on putting him through for it.

  “I have something to say,” he announced in the changeroom before their first off-season on-ice practice.

  Nobody looked up, of course. They kept lacing their skates, adjusting their pads, bullshitting back and forth with one another, pointedly ignoring him all the while. Like he was a ghost.

  So he tried again. “I have something to say.”

  Nothing.

  He stood. Instantly remembered the uneasy feeling of standing on his skate blades on rubber flooring. Squared his shoulders anyway. “Listen up, douchenozzles!”

  That got Ben’s attention, at least. He looked up from strapping on his massive shin pads with a grin. “Isn’t that the part that goes up the girl’s snatch? Yeah, the nozzle, right? Nice!”

  Austin wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Only you could twist that into a turn-on, Kibby.”

  Tim laughed. “No shit! Somebody get this poor motherfucker laid already before he starts popping boners at tampon commercials.”

  “All right, all right,” Warren cut in. “I think, for once, that I speak for everybody here when I say nobody wants to hear that stuff. So, Austin, didn’t you want to say something?”