by Leigh Carman
“Jesus, Toby. You feel….” Van’s breath hitches, and he drops his head. His muscular body held up by two strong, corded arms on either side of my head, Van’s blond hair tickles my chin as he watches the place where our bodies connect, mesmerized by the sight of his dick disappearing into me with each measured thrust.
“Faster,” I breathe. Van lowers himself to his elbows so our chests touch and my dick is trapped between our bodies. He drives his hips faster, but it’s still nowhere near as much as I need. It’s more of a sensuous undulating of his hips than a hard thrusting. Van lifts his head and presses his lips against mine, kissing me thoroughly in a filthy melding of mouths as he continues to make love to me.
Van lifts his head, brushing his nose against mine. “I can’t explain what’s happening, Toby.” Van’s huge hands thread into my hair, and he holds my head still as he licks a path up one side of my neck. I shiver all over, and Van gasps when my body clenches around his cock. “This need I have for you, to be around you, to be inside you, to take care of you. I don’t know what to do with it.”
I slide my hands down his broad, rippling back, stopping when I reach the rock-hard globes of his ass. Using them for leverage, I lift my hips off the bed and fuck myself on his dick, driving his cock deeper with each thrust.
Van’s expression turns from awe to dark and carnal. With a snarl, he pulls out and kneels, ignoring my whimper and yanking me by the waist until my entire lower body is tilted up, resting on his enormous thighs. Van hooks one of my ankles over each of his broad shoulders and plunges back into my empty ass, filling me perfectly in one hard thrust.
“Oh God! Yes!” I cry, clawing at the bedspread for some sort of leverage.
“Fuck, Toby. I can’t resist you, can’t stay away. Can’t lose you.” Van leans over to give me a filthy and sloppy kiss, folding my body in half as he begins to truly pound my ass.
“Yesssssss,” I hiss, my eyes rolling back into my head as Van angles his lower body to hit my prostate over and over with each snap of his hips. “Fuck, Van….” My entire body shudders violently.
“I got you, baby.” Van reaches out and grabs my dick, jerking it hard and fast.
“Oh! Ungh. Van, I’m gonna… holy shit. Don’t stop.” I let out a loud shout, and my body clenches forcefully. Blinding lights burst behind my closed eyelids, and my balls pull tight. A half second later, I detonate and fall over the edge, shooting streams of come into Van’s hand and all over both of our abdomens.
“Yes, baby. Fuck!” Van releases my cock and leans back on his heels, holding my thighs as he fucks me hard, sweat dripping from his body. He slams into me a few more times and convulses, his mouth open in ecstasy. I watch, mesmerized, as all those sculpted tan muscles tense. Van’s eyes are squeezed shut, and his head is thrown back as he comes with a roar. “Oh God, yes, Toby, baby! Fuck!” Van dives deep one final time before collapsing on top of me in a sweaty, come and sweat-slicked mess.
After a few minutes, Van pulls out and grabs a tissue to dispose of the condom, then tosses it to the floor. He picks me up and easily maneuvers my sated, limp body until his front is pressed to my back. Van wraps his strong arms around me, and his hot breath gusts across my neck. I listen as his rapid breathing evens out and allow myself to drift off in the arms of a man who is definitely not good for me, who has already burned me once and will certainly hurt me again. But I don’t worry about the fact that despite my brain telling me to run, I’m right where I want to be.
Van
I WAKE up sweating, which isn’t unusual if I forget to turn on the ceiling fan before going to bed. I run hot, so I’m always burning up. It takes a minute to blink the sleep away. When I finally regain my senses, I realize I’m not in my bedroom. I attempt to sit, but someone has their head on my chest, one arm and one leg slung over my body, holding tight.
Toby.
Memories rush back in: the crippling fear I felt watching Toby flip and jump up and down from the roof of that decrepit building, powerless to do anything to keep him from getting hurt. Even now, with Toby safe in my arms, a chill sweeps down my spine.
More surprising than the forcefulness of my protective instinct with regard to Toby is the fact that we made love. I’ve never made love to anyone in my life. Sure, I’ve fucked plenty of guys. Less since I became famous, simply because I have to use discretion with my hookups. Yet I never felt a thing for a single one of the men I was with.
Until now.
“Hello!” A door slams, and a loud voice calls from the main room of the apartment.
I stiffen, and I’m not sure if it’s from fear of being discovered in bed with Toby or if it’s raging jealousy that another man has a key to Toby’s apartment. Does Toby live with someone? Am I the other man in his life?
I jump out of bed and yank on my jeans, my sudden movement jolting Toby awake.
“What’s going on?” A sleepy and well-fucked Toby is staring at me in the soft light. He frowns when he sees me pulling on my pants.
The voice calls out again. “Hellllooooooo! T? Are you here?”
“Oh God,” Toby whispers.
“Yeah, oh God,” I growl, unable to keep the hostility out of my voice. Toby flinches as if I slapped him, but I can’t worry about that right now. I’m more concerned with the person waltzing into my man’s apartment like he owns the place. “Who the fuck is here, Toby? Your boyfriend?”
“What? No.” Toby hurries out of bed and tugs on his briefs. “It’s Leo. He lives next door.” Toby finds his shorts and pulls them on. “I’ll go get rid of him.”
“Toby?” The bedroom door opens, and we both freeze like kids caught breaking curfew. “Oh!” A slender young man with bleached-blond hair swept over one eye and wearing some of the brightest colors I’ve ever seen is standing in the doorway, a hand covering his open mouth. My stomach plummets into my feet when I realize he’s the same man my asshole teammates harassed in the bar that awful night.
“Oops! I’ll uhhh, go,” the blond says, backing away. I see his eyes flick over to me and widen.
Fuck. Does he recognize me? From the bar or from football? Shit.
“Leo, don’t leave. I’ll be right out,” Toby says, somehow exuding calm.
“Sure, T,” Leo says, never taking his scrutinizing gaze off me. Finally Leo spins on his heel and shuts the bedroom door behind him.
“Shit.” Toby scratches the back of his head in what I know is a sign of building anxiety. “Wait here and I’ll get rid of him.”
I’m torn. On the one hand, hiding in here will give Toby time to explain, and I can hope Leo didn’t recognize me. Going out there will only give the guy another chance to see my face, and it would be without the benefit of dark curtains and low light. On the other hand, every cell in my body is screaming at me to run for the front door and get as far away as possible. The fear of discovery, of this Leo telling the press I’m gay, has my bowels clenching in abject horror.
Toby slips from the room before I can say a word. Okay. I guess I’m waiting here. I yank on my shirt and drop onto the bed, freaking the fuck out. To distract myself, I pull out my phone and answer a few e-mails. Cal sent a text wanting to go to dinner later at Rusk, a steakhouse near the stadium. After his weird behavior in the cafeteria, bringing up that night in the bar where our teammates were total dickheads to Toby and Leo, I’m not sure I want to be alone with the tight end where he can pick me apart. Then again, I’m probably making a mountain out of a molehill. Besides Griff, Cal is my best friend. Griff is the only one who knows I’m gay. I tap out a response telling Cal I can meet him at Rusk at seven.
The bedroom door opens, and Toby enters. “Um, I explained everything to Leo. He’s not going to say anything.”
My stomach heaves and does a triple flip. “Wait, what did you tell him, Toby?”
Toby scowls and takes on a defensive posture, crossing his arms over his chest. “He recognized you, Van. From the bar, and he knows your name. Knows who you are. What should I have d
one?”
“Fuck.” I rake a hand through my hair. I am so fucked.
“Stop.” Toby crosses the room and straddles my lap. He glides his hands up and down my chest, his touch soothing me. “He won’t tell anyone. I promise. Leo is a good guy.”
“He probably hates me,” I grumble, my insides knotting at the thought of someone knowing my secret.
“No. He gets it. He’s not stupid, Van. He knows you couldn’t out yourself in front of your friends.”
“They are definitely not my friends.”
“Okay, your teammates, then. Leo knows you and the other guy—”
“Cal.”
Toby raises a brow. “Okay, he knows you and Cal were holding them back. That they probably would have followed us outside and made trouble if you two weren’t there. He said to tell you thanks.”
My brain stutters and stalls. “Wait. He wants to thank me? For standing there and letting those assholes talk shit to you?”
Toby smiles, lighting up the dark room. “I told you, he’s a good guy. Plus, I have to admit, it’ll be nice to have a friend I can talk to about us.”
Relaxing a bit, I smile and wrap my hands around Toby’s slender waist, my fingers so long they almost span the entire circumference. “Us, huh? Is there an us?”
Toby nods shyly, and my heart nearly bursts with happiness. I lean forward and capture Toby’s mouth with mine, keeping the kiss chaste. “Us.” I test the word. “I like it.”
We both sit there grinning like idiots, Toby’s adorable dimples on full display. I can’t help but wonder when Toby will get sick of being shoved in the closet, kept as a dirty little secret from the world. How long will he accept my life before he decides I’m not worth it?
As usual, I push those thoughts away, continuing to live in my little world of denial. A magical universe where everything is perfect. I don’t have to worry about my job or being gay, no one will hate me or be disgusted by me, and Toby will stay by my side forever.
I know the dream can’t last, but if I can only have it for a while, I’m going to make sure I enjoy every single second.
Toby
“REALLY, WHAT are you thinking with this guy, T?” Leo flits around his studio, gathering straight pins and measuring tapes and stuffing them into various drawers. The designer he works for, Mia Taylor, promoted him over the summer to help design for her new menswear collection, so Leo’s been working a lot of extra nights and weekends. “I swear, you just don’t think sometimes, Toby.” Leo grabs his messenger bag and slings it over his shoulder. “Let’s go.”
“Are you sure you want to have dinner, Leo? Because if you’re going to be rude and bitchy all night, I’d rather just go home.” I haven’t seen or spoken to my best friend for three days. Ever since he caught me in bed with Van. Now he thinks I’m the biggest idiot on the planet. Falling not only for a guy in the closet, but a professional jock surrounded by homophobes day in and day out. When Leo called and asked if I’d meet him at work and go out to eat, I figured he had worked through his frustration.
I was wrong.
Leo gives me a sad look. “Sorry, T. You’re right. I am being rude. It’s your life.” He waves a hand in the air as if dismissing my stupidity. I nod stiffly, and we leave the studio. Leo locks up, and we hop in my car to make the short drive to West Hollywood. It’s a very gay-friendly area of town, and Leo feels more comfortable there than anywhere, even though LA is pretty open-minded.
I sigh as I pull out into the horrific LA traffic. It’s Sunday, but no one here cares. The roads are still thick with cars. “Leo, I know you’re just worried about me. Hell, I’m worried. I’m not stupid. I know Van isn’t the safest guy for me to date, that he’ll be in the closet forever, and that he’ll probably break my heart someday.”
Leo turns to stare at me from the passenger seat. “Yet you still want to see him?”
“I can’t explain it, Leo. With him… we’re just…. We click, you know? It’s like we’re opposing magnets or something. We both need each other.”
“Holy shit,” Leo whispers. “You love him.”
His comment takes me so off guard I nearly rear-end the car in front of us. “What? Love? No, I don’t think so. We’ve hardly spent any time together.”
“So what?” Leo waves me off with another flick of his wrist. “When you find your soul mate, you just know. And now that you have, there’s no going back.”
I huff out a laugh. “Soul mates? Really, Leo?”
Leo nods enthusiastically. “Yes. Don’t laugh at it, T. You found your soul mate, and if you say he feels it too, then you’re destined to be together. Oh my God, it’s just like a fairy tale.” Leo stares out the windshield, a dreamy smile on his face.
“Of course you would believe in soul mates and all that bullshit, Leo. Me? I’m a little more cautious, especially after Austin. Trust is very hard for me to give. I don’t even trust Van yet. Not after….” I let my sentence taper off, referring to the night in question.
“But he earned it back, didn’t he? He sent those tickets and came to see you after the game.” Leo sighs. “He pursued you, T. He didn’t give up. That’s so romantic. Your knight in shining armor.”
“We’re here,” I say, ending the conversation. I don’t want to talk about Van anymore. I want to trust him, but I can’t. Not yet. My battered heart is still healing from my last relationship. This time I’m guarding it better.
Love and soul mates. Yeah, right.
But Leo’s words echo in my head all through dinner. If he thinks I’m in love, maybe I’m not guarding my heart as well as I thought.
“UGH, I’M so full,” Leo complains as we unlock our adjoining apartment doors.
“I told you not to order dessert,” I say with a chuckle.
Leo pouts. “I love chocolate, T. I couldn’t help it. I’m weak.”
I shake my head as my door swings open. “See ya, Leo.”
“Bye, T. Remember, I’m here if you need anything.”
“Thanks.” I enter my apartment and shuck my shoes, reaching for the light. The bright fluorescents hurt my eyes. I have to squint for a minute to adjust. Once I do, I realize I’m standing on a large manila envelope.
Curious, I bend over and pick it up, turning it over in my hands. No writing, no address, nothing is written on the outside. Weird. I smile. Maybe it’s another surprise from Van. While walking to the bedroom to undress and take a shower, I slide my finger under the seal and open the envelope. A handful of photos fall out, along with a single sheet of paper.
I scoop everything up and sit on the bed to take a look. The smile falls off my face, and I nearly hyperventilate at what I find. My vision blurs, and I begin to tremble so violently, the photos slip out of my hand and scatter across the bedroom floor. Room spinning, I curl up in a ball on the bed and hold my stomach. The pain is excruciating, and my chest is so tight it’s difficult to breathe.
I should have known. Happiness never lasts. It’s a myth, a dream, something that happens to other people, not me. Not now. Not ever.
Chapter 9
Van
“IS YOUR phone timed to explode or something, V?”
I turn to Cal, who is sitting beside me on the team bus from the Newark airport to our hotel for our game on Sunday against the Giants. My brows furrow at his question.
“You haven’t stopped looking at the damn thing every two minutes since we landed. Wanna tell me what’s going on?”
I stare into Cal’s dark eyes. I’ve known Cal since we were roommates in college. Pure luck had us drafted to the same team when we graduated. I’ve been friends with him for a long time, yet I’ve never trusted Cal with my biggest secret.
“Just waiting for a call,” I reply, stuffing the phone in the breast pocket of my suit. NFL rules, or more specifically, Wild Cats rules, dictate players wear suits and ties during all travel both to and from home games and while flying to away games. It sucks, but it is what it is.
The ebony skin around C
al’s eyes crinkles, and his teeth gleam as he laughs. “Whatever, man. How long have I known you? Six, seven years? You can’t fool me. You’re nervous as hell, and it’s got something to do with whoever you’re waiting on to call your sorry ass.”
My heart leaps into my throat, and my fingers dig into my slacks. I open my mouth to reply, only nothing comes out.
Cal pats my arm lightly. “I’ll leave you alone.” He mimes zipping his lip and sits back in his seat.
I almost wish he’d keep talking. Not about me, but anything to keep my mind off Toby. After spending the day together Thursday and recovering from the horrifying appearance of his friend Leo, Toby hasn’t returned a single call or text I’ve sent. Friday is a busy day for the team—training, discussing plays, and watching film of the opposing team. This morning we had a run-through at our home field before heading to the airport.
Now it’s Saturday evening, late afternoon in LA, and I’m stuck in East Rutherford, New Jersey, for the weekend, checking my phone like an obsessed teenage girl, and I’m not being very subtle about it if Cal is noticing, although the man is eerily perceptive. The bus pulls in front of our hotel, brakes squealing as it coasts to a stop.
Everyone piles out and heads for the lobby, bags slung over our shoulders, half the guys with earbuds in place. Our travel manager hands us our keys as we pass him, each one in an envelope with our name on it. Cal and I always share a room. It was mandatory the first two years with the team, but even though we’re allowed to get individual suites now, we still bunk up. Neither of us has any family to bring along to away games, so having some company is better than hanging out alone. Plus, Cal isn’t much for going out and picking up women on the road, thank God, so he never questions me for not bedding the cleat chasers like the other guys.
