The Sparkler - Gin Rickey 2

by George, G. R. ; George, Renee;

  “Reach back and spread yourself for me.”

  Alex’s face pressed into the mattress as he followed Ricky’s command. He used both his hands to hold himself open. It should have embarrassed him, but it didn’t. He trusted Ricky with this physical intimacy between them. Alex trusted Ricky to take it seriously. To take him seriously.

  “God,” Ricky whispered. Without another word, Ricky picked up the shaving lotion and pumped a generous amount into the palm of his hand.

  Alex bit his lower lip and moaned when his lover’s clever fingers slathered the creamy lotion down his crack.

  “You’re going to have to hold still,” Ricky said, his voice gentle. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  Alex hadn’t realized he’d squirmed until Ricky said so, but now he made a concerted effort to hold perfectly still. Even so, he gasped as he felt the cold blade of the razor glaze against his skin. His dick moved, the tip dragging against the towel beneath him as it grew impossibly hard. Fuck. He wanted to let go of his ass and jerk himself while Ricky shaved him. It felt even more intimate, more erotic, than when Ricky put his mouth there. Maybe because there wasn’t a barrier.

  He concentrated on the tug of every stroke. Ricky shaved with his left hand while he used his other to pull and stretch the skin tight where it was naturally loose or creviced. The slow caress of the blade in Ricky’s hand, made Alex feel cherished.

  When he finished the shave, Ricky drew a towel over Alex and cleaned the excess cream and hair from him.

  “God damn,” he heard Ricky say right before he felt nimble fingers dancing down his freshly shaved skin. Goose flesh rippled over his ass and legs.

  His breath hitched when the top of the lube bottle clicked. His pulse raced with anticipation. He moaned, letting go of his ass when Ricky’s slicked finger pushed inside him. He forced himself to relax even more, allowing the stretch to happen without resistance.

  Ricky leaned over Alex’s back, adding a second finger, thrusting and twisting with gentle, insistent movements. His thick erection pressed between Alex’s thighs.

  Squeezing his thighs together and trapping Ricky’s cock, Alex moaned as he pushed back against Ricky’s hand, eager for more.

  Ricky pulled his hips back while keeping his fingers inside Alex. He nudged Alex’s legs together and spread his own legs to straddle him.

  Alex quivered when Ricky plunged his oiled cock between Alex’s thighs again. Ricky thrust his hips, his length sliding past Alex’s balls.

  “Ah!” Alex cried out.

  “Squeeze your legs together, Alex. Tightly,” he added.

  “Oh, Jesus,” Alex whispered, as the heat of ecstasy burned him to the core. Between Ricky’s twisting fingers and the glide of his slick cock against Alex’s balls, Alex’s climax had begun its slow burn on a short fuse. He squeezed his legs tighter as Ricky’s panting breaths and excited groans pushed him to the edge. He wanted Ricky inside him, fucking him without mercy, but he also didn’t want to wait for Ricky to put on a condom. The idea of Ricky inside him without anything between them sent Alex over the edge. He grabbed his dick and in two strokes his body went rigid as the frenzied scald of his orgasm took over.

  Ricky yanked his fingers from Alex, grabbed Alex’s hips with both hands, digging in as he rammed himself between Alex’s thighs in three quick, hard thrusts. He shuddered forward on the last, whispering, “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” over and over. When Ricky finished, he rolled off Alex and onto his back.

  “That was different,” Alex said.

  Ricky laughed, and draped the back of his arm over Alex. “I’d say.”

  “Fun though.”

  Ricky rolled to his side and propped up on an elbow. “Was it? I mean, for you?” He used one of the small hand towels to wipe the lubricant off his dick.

  Alex smiled, loving the way Ricky looked naked—hard or soft, it didn’t matter. “Definitely.”

  Ricky nodded once and tenderly stroked the side of Alex’s face. “Good.”

  Alex raked a calculated gaze over his lover from his scruffy hair, his tattoos, the happy trail that led to his perfect package, and all of him wrapped in a skinny bundle of tightly coiled muscle. Those green eyes of his, though, bright and inquisitive, were always the biggest surprise. They were gentle and full of humor. A strange contrast to the rest of him.

  He could still feel the abrading of Ricky’s beard against his cheek. He wished he was brave enough to steal a kiss. It dawned on him how weird it was that he was bold enough to ask Ricky to shave his ass, but he didn’t have enough courage to ask for something as simple as a meeting of the lips. That kind of affection was rare between them, and usually only when they were in full-on foreplay.

  A couple of days earlier, Ricky had kissed him during an orgasm. Alex’s hand went to his lips as he remembered swallowing Ricky’s moan. The moment had made him damned near giddy.

  “What?” Ricky asked, bringing Alex back to the present. “Where’d you go?”

  Alex smiled. “Nowhere.” It was only then that he noticed the flesh colored bandage on Ricky’s shoulder. “Did you hurt yourself?”

  “Huh?”

  “There.” He gestured toward Ricky’s shoulder.

  “Oh.” Ricky shook his head. “Another tattoo started is all.”

  “Can I see?”

  Ricky shrugged. “Sure.” He pulled the top of the bandage down, revealing the slightly welted black outline of some kind of beast made of scrollwork.

  Alex wanted to reach out and trace the ridged lines with his finger.

  Ricky stopped his raised hand before he could actually touch. “It’s still too fresh.” He covered the tattoo again.

  The words felt like a rebuff, but Alex covered his hurt with more questions. “You had this done tonight? After work?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Why tonight? Or why a tattoo?”

  “I don’t know. Both, I guess.”

  “Tonight, because the artist was free, and the tattoos, because they mean something to me.”

  “All of them.”

  “Each and every one.”

  “So what is this one supposed to be?”

  “It’s a griffin. Or it will be when it’s done. It has the head and wings of an eagle and the body of a lion.”

  “What does it mean to you?”

  Ricky stared at Alex for a moment. His prismatic eyes narrowed.

  Afraid he’d crossed a line, Alex nearly took back the question. Nearly. Ricky said all his tattoos meant something, and Alex really wanted to know the answer. He held his tongue, waiting Ricky out.

  Finally, Ricky nodded. “The griffin is a protector. Fiercely loyal. Once someone is put in its care, it is responsible for that person in this life and after death. I have people in my life I’ve promised to take care of, Alex. This griffin is my reminder of that promise, so that I never forget.”

  Ricky’s gaze held an edge Alex couldn’t decipher. He was a mystery Alex wanted to solve, but before he could ask another question, Ricky sat up and moved to the edge of the bed.

  He stiffened when Ricky stood up and slipped his pants on. “Where are you going?”

  “Home,” he said, as if it were the most logical, natural progression.

  Was this a rejection—another act meant to keep him at a distance? “Why?”

  “I have an early day tomorrow, and I still have some prep work I need to get done for my rounds.” He stepped into his jeans, pulling them up over his narrow hips.

  “You know, you could bring some of your work here if you wanted.” Alex sat up, worried once again that he was saying the wrong thing. “I mean, I don’t mind. It just might be more convenient is all.” He tried to sound like he didn’t care about Ricky’s answer.

  “Maybe next time.”

  The “maybe” sent a small thrill through Alex. They’d never stayed all night together. They didn’t have that kind of arrangement, but maybe�
�Impulsively, almost recklessly, he blurted, “My parents have a Fourth of July party every year.”

  Ricky pulled on his socks. “Yeah?”

  “Do you want to come with me?”

  Ricky’s eyes widened. His deep frown creased his brow.

  Why had he asked? And why was he a man suddenly possessed by a sabotaging idiot? Take it back. Take it back, his mind chanted. But once again, he held his tongue and waited.

  Ricky walked out of the bedroom and out of Alex’s sight.

  Alex grimaced. He’d blown it! Ricky made him feel good, better than anyone had in a long time. He kept Alex guessing, he kept it exciting, and fresh, which was a major part of Ricky’s appeal. Why was Alex messing with their chemistry now? Why was he trying to make things between them more than they were? Sighing, he waited for the slam of the front door.

  After a few minutes, and no door slam, Alex tried to stay calm when Ricky walked back into the bedroom. He was completely dressed, and the serious expression on his face made Alex nervous. Was Ricky going to break up with him? Of course not. They would have to have a relationship to break up. Was Ricky going to tell him they couldn’t see each other anymore? Alex believed that was a good possibility.

  “I’ll go with you,” Ricky finally said, and without another word, he left.

  Dumbfounded, Alex moved until he sat at the edge of the bed. A nervous smile twitched at his lips as he asked himself a very honest question. One in which he had no reply. “What the fuck did I just do?”

  Chapter 5

  Too Fucking Right

  Ricky spent the morning at the hospital doing rounds and the afternoon sitting through lectures and new patient intakes. He’d gone straight from the hospital to The Other Team Sports Bar & Grill for his even shift. Cooking at the bar was a relief after the day he’d had. It gave him a place to keep his hands busy and his mind free.

  For the past two weeks, things had been awkward between him and Alex. Not bad, just unnatural—weird. With only one week left before “event,” he asked himself the question he’d asked himself every day since Alex popped the question: Why?

  The only answer he could think of was that Alex was using him as a way to rebel. Ricky would be the bad boy Alex brought home to his uptight parents. Ricky rolled his eyes. Did it really matter? He’d committed to going, and unless Alex told him he didn’t want him there, Ricky was going to make an appearance—even if the event had disaster written all over it.

  Jay Lincoln, the owner of The Other Team, walked into the kitchen. He was taller than Ricky, but not as tall as Alex. Even so, he was more imposing. He’d been dating Dr. Grace, Ricky’s mentor and attending, for a while. Dr. Grace had helped Ricky to get the job at the bar. He was grateful to both of them for the chance—even if he’d almost blown it less than two weeks in when he’d been caught half-naked in the storage room with Alex. Jay had been really cool about it. He hadn’t even told Dr. Grace.

  Jay was self-made. He managed every day to run a successful business without a college education or rich parents to back him. The fact that he was discreet only added to Ricky’s admiration.

  “So,” Jay said. He smoothed back his short hair. “You ready for next week?”

  What did Jay know? “Did Alex say something to you?” Maybe Alex had sent Jay in as a way to rescind the invitation. “Look, if he doesn’t want me to go…”

  “Calm down,” Jay said. He shook his head. “Alex hasn’t told me anything. Harvey said something in passing, and I probably should’ve kept my mouth shut.”

  “Oh.” He’d forgotten about his conversation with his mentor a week earlier. The doctor and Jay had been going through their own relationship trouble at the time, and Ricky had shared his insecurities about the party with Dr. Grace in an uncharacteristic gesture of solidarity. “I’m fine about it.”

  “I can see that.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Ricky flipped two burgers on his grill and shifted the toasted buns to the warmer corner.

  “Nothing. You’ve just been a little tense the last couple of shifts.”

  “I’m fine,” he repeated.

  Jay put up his hands. “Okay.”

  After Jay left the kitchen, Ricky plated the burgers, lifted the fry basket to let it drain, and then dressed the burgers. When he finished, he added the fries and a pickle spear to each of the plates. The meals were for Alex’s table, and Ricky’s stomach fluttered with anxiety. They’d been so cautious with each other lately. He wondered if he’d feel angry or relieved if Alex backed out of taking him to the party.

  He opened the door between the kitchen and bar. Alex was standing near a table with Tucker Thompson. The easy way they talked and laughed made Ricky’s chest squeeze. He knew he didn’t have to worry about Tucker—the young man was completely committed to his partner Todd, but Alex…

  Alex had wanted Tucker from the first time they met. Ricky knew he’d been a consolation prize, or worse, a place holder. Someone to fill the void until something real came along. Jesus. Why did it even matter? It wasn’t like Ricky wanted more. Right? So then why was he going to “meet the parents”? Did Alex want there to be more between them? His gut knotted. Did he want there to be more between them? Maybe.

  Alex laughed at something Tucker Thompson said, and Ricky’s mood darkened even more. “Order,” he barked.

  Alex’s eyes widened at Ricky’s sudden appearance, and Ricky heard him tell Tucker, “That’s mine.”

  Damn straight, Ricky thought possessively. Too fucking right. Then another thought occurred to him: How in the hell was he going to get through the next week?

  Chapter 6

  Independence Day

  July 4th…D-Day

  Alex tapped his fingers nervously on the steering wheel as he drove his Mustang down the highway. Luckily, the weather was decent. Hot, a bit humid, but no rain in sight. His parents’ property was a thirty-minute drive from the city, but from the moment Ricky got into the car with him, time seemed to speed up exponentially. It was 6:45 p.m. in the evening when they pulled into the long driveway already saturated with cars and SUVs parked along the sides. The cedar siding on the large three-story home complimented the wooded acres that served as its backdrop.

  Off to the left was a small pond, complete with fountains and an arched walking bridge, vibrant in the same deep orange-brown color as the house. The decorated path went around the same side of the house and led to the well-manicured and landscaped backyard, where the party was in full swing.

  As Alex turned off the engine, he glanced over at Ricky. He’d worn black slacks and a black button down, long sleeve shirt that covered his tattoos. Had that been on purpose? Ricky was over dressed for a barbeque, but damn, did he look fine. He’d styled his dark, messy hair back away from his narrow face, and he’d trimmed his beard.

  Ricky turned his vibrant green gaze on Alex and shrugged. “You ready?”

  Alex nodded. His dick perked unbidden, and he shifted uncomfortable. Damn, the man had a way of making him horny with just a glance.

  Ricky raised a questioning eyebrow, and Alex wondered for the umpteenth time what the hell he’d been thinking.

  Alex had half expected Ricky cancel on him. Their encounters since the invitation had been silently strained. They’d never talked much about personal things, but what little talking they did do had ceased to exist. Had he already ruined them by asking Ricky to come? Would their tenuous relationship—however it was defined—survive a day with his parents and their friends? He hoped so. Alex might not want to admit it out loud, but he didn’t want to lose Ricky from his life. Not now. Maybe not ever.

  Ricky got out of the car and waited in front for Alex to join him. They walked, shoulder to shoulder, around the back of the house. Country music played softly from speakers down by tree line, and his parents’ guests were in clustered groups—drinking wine and beer, devouring delicious canapés, laughing and conversing about inane topics.

&nb
sp; Alex studied Ricky’s face. It was carefully blank. He could only imagine what Ricky thought of the pomp and pageantry. It didn’t take long for his parents, both in dressy beige shorts, yellow short-sleeved polo shirts, and white canvas shoes, to see him and start their way toward them.

  “Alex,” his mother crowed. “It’s about time you showed up.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek.

  “How’s school, boy?” His father asked, holding out his hand.

  Alex patted his mother’s back and shook his father’s hand. “Fine, sir.”

  “Good, good.” His father turned his attention to Ricky, but didn’t say anything.

  It was his mother who broke the ice. “So, introduce us to your guest.”

  “This is my friend Ricky. Ricky McNeil.” He looked from Ricky to his parents. “Ricky, this is Jonathan and Milly Michaels. My parents,” he added.

  “Nice to meet you,” Ricky said. “You have a lovely home.”

  “Oh, your accent is interesting,” Milly said.

  Ricky threw her a flirty smile and winked. “Tis’ part of me Irish charm,” he said, affecting a heavy brogue, and completely disarming Milly and Alex at the same time.

  However, Alex noted his father bristled, and the silence became uncomfortable.

  “Ricky’s a doctor,” Alex said, drawing a raised brow from Ricky. He wanted to smack his own forehead the minute the words spilled from his mouth. What difference did it make whether Ricky was a doctor or not? As if his dad would be less of an asshole because of his sudden revelation.

  Alex’s dad looked around, trying to find an escape route. He gestured toward a group of men and women a few feet away. “There’s Simon Camp. I need to speak to him,” he said in way of apology. “It’s good to see you, son.” On that note, he walked away.

  Milly Michaels had the good sense to blush. “I better go distract Simon’s wife,” she said as her own way of apologizing. “It’s nice to meet you, Ricky.” She kissed Alex on the cheek again. “I’ll talk to you in bit.”

  “Sorry,” Alex said to Ricky.